Mr & Mrs Cuck - Chapter 02 (Patreon)

Preface:

Excuse the magic phones please, I just find this kink so much hotter with teasing via sexting etc.

Also, I overly use ‘perfect’ in this chapter. I’m writing from Ginny’s POV and it’s just how she sees Fleur - it’s almost ironic, as if she’s insulting her with the term. I’m fine with it, but I felt I should point it out early and escape a little of my much-deserved derision.

Fleur Weasley - Lea Seydoux (as always)

Chapter 2

She’d been smiling so wide and for so long that her cheeks had genuinely started to ache.

Ginny had known, objectively, that her first niece would mean something special to her - that she’d love her. Seeing her though, so tiny and wrapped up like an adorable little kebab in her baby blankies instantly melted her heart.

Getting right down into her face, Ginny groaned. ‘Ugh, I could eat you! Look at your cheeks, so adorable!’

She’d rushed over after practise, Hermione letting her know that she was finally ready to start accepting visitors. Harry and she had visited briefly while Hermione was recovering at Saint Mungo’s, but this was the first time Ginny had seen baby Rose since.

‘I can’t believe how small she is,’ Ginny cooed as she fussed over her. Hermione, looking far less exhausted than she had through the floo, just smiled as she watched her sister-in-law acting like a complete fool while playing with her niece.

‘You know, you and Harry could make one of your own.’

‘Ugh,’ Ginny grimaced, pausing in her efforts to try and make her baby niece smile to look up at Hermione with genuine pain in her features. ‘You’re starting to sound like my mother - is it, like, a disease or something all mothers get?’

Hermione laughed, raising her hands in a peace offering. ‘Sorry, sorry. I guess I just want you to be able to feel even a fraction of the happiness I’m feeling right now.’

Ginny sighed and shook her head at her best friend fondly. ‘Some day, but not anytime soon. Harry and I aren’t ready - we’ll let the rest of you start pumping out babies for now.’

When Rose gurgled, her perpetual little grimace shifting in what could, perhaps charitably, be called a smile, Ginny’s ovaries nearly exploded. ‘Oh Merlin, she's precious!’ she all but squealed, mindful to keep her voice in check as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a hand-sized, rectangular piece of black crystal, her fingers dancing on the surface before she aimed it at the baby and started taking photos.

‘Is that - no way! - is that what I think it is?’ Hermione asked, eyes wide with shock as she huddled next to her friend and watched the photos populate on the screen.

‘Yup,’ Ginny said with a proud grin, not pausing in her rapid fire photography.

Merlin, it’s so much more convenient than Magicameras.

‘It’s Harry’s latest Muggle adaption,’ she explained, reaching into her pocket and pulling out another two identical pieces and handing them to a wide-eyed Hermione. ‘Take one and bind it to you - you do that by holding it between the palms of your hands until you feel a surge of warmth.’

Hermione excitedly followed her instructions. Harry had expected her reaction, so he’d handed her two prototype copies to give to his oldest friends when she’d told him she’d be dropping by after practise.

‘Now what?’ Hermione asked with excitement, vibrating with glee as the screen on her device lit up at her touch.

Ginny snorted and reached over with her own device and held it against the back of Hermione’s until there was a soft chime.

‘That chime lets us know the comms - that’s what he’s calling them, MagiComms - that they’re now linked, look,’ Ginny explained as she turned the screen to Hermione and showed her how to navigate the menu to the contacts page. It was very intuitive, similar to how Muggle smartphones worked. The screen itself was populated by three names - Harry’s, Hermione’s and someone called Daddy - only the former having a picture of his grinning face next to his name while the others were blank. Ginny felt an excited thrill shoot through her when Hermione’s eyes glazed over the name - not understanding the significance and likely thinking it was her father’s. ‘I’ll show you how to add your picture later - I just need to press your name and…’

Hermione squealed with glee when her phone started to gently vibrate and chime. At first, pretty much every young witch or wizard would admit that, while it was annoying that most Muggle tech malfunctioned when surrounded by heavy ambient magic, having the ability to wield phenomenal, cosmic power trumped it every time.

Then Muggles invented smartphones, and while not enough to get them to forsake their magic or magic-dense homes just to use them, their utility was something that drove most all young witches and wizards green with envy. That was doubly true for muggleborns and those with muggle or half-blood parents.

No one had been able to figure out a way to get them to work in magic-dense areas yet, or invent an equivalent device that could emulate the technology, and interface with their networks.

No one except Harry, apparently.

He’s so hot when he’s brilliant and changing the world.

Ginny’s grinning face had shown up on Hermione’s screen, accompanied by text that let Hermione know she was calling. ‘Just swipe up on my face to accept the call. If I had swiped left on your name instead of tapping it, it would have initiated a picture call instead.’

‘Muggles call them video calls,’ Hermione answered automatically as she swiped up on her face and held the device to her ear.

Ginny mirrored her. ‘Magicals don’t know what a video is - picture call makes more sense anyway.’

Hermione’s eyes widened when she heard Ginny’s voice coming from both beside her and the device itself, her voice sounding much better than the muggle equivalent was capable of.

‘To end the call, just swipe my face away when you’re done with a flicking gesture.’

Looking both impressed and excited, Hermione did just that and smiled when it worked seamlessly and easily.

She had expected no less from her other best friend.

After ending the call, Ginny navigated back to the contacts page on Hermione’s comms. ‘If you swipe right on the contact, you can send a text message. Swiping left, as I already said, lets you start the picture call. You can also hold down on the contact to access other features like muting, blocking, un-synching - it really is incredible.’

‘Wow,’ Hermione exclaimed in awe as she rapidly navigated through all the device’s menus. Ginny should have figured, she would be much more comfortable with the familiar interface. ‘This is amazing. Everyone is going to want one of these, how will Harry ever keep up with demand?’

Ginny smirked proudly. ‘If you think the comms are impressive, you should see what he made to mass-produce them.’

‘What about owls?’ Hermione pondered with a frown as she gently rocked the fidgeting Rose to sleep. ‘They’re next to useless now.’

‘Harry says they’ll still be widely used to deliver packages. He’s even working on better space-expanding pouches for them to carry so they can make even bigger deliveries,’ she explained - having asked that very same question herself - as she started snapping some more pictures. ‘He has to make sure to keep them happy. Rather hard to sell anything without someone to deliver your product - and he’s not really interested in opening up and manning a storefront.’

Hermione snorted in amusement. ‘Sounds like Harry alright. So he’s thought of everything then?’

Ginny shrugged, a sly grin on her face. ‘You know Harry, he certainly thinks he has, we’ll see. I’m just hoping we’ll have enough money to buy a place with a pool now.’

Hermione laughed at the absurd notion, shaking her head at her friend’s one-track mind. ‘You don’t already? Harry’s family was pretty wealthy and you’re one of the Harpy’s best players, if your brother is to be believed.’

Ginny grinned cheekily. ‘Don’t tell him you told me that, he’ll blow his top,’ she said before sighing. ‘Harry spent most of his family’s money to fund his workshop, and as for me, my contract doesn’t expire for another few years yet. I don’t know how much you know about professional sports contracts, but they don’t have any incentive to renew my terms - not enough to get me to extend anyway.’

Seeing Hermione’s troubled frown, she continued.

‘Dromeda says if I keep improving on my current trajectory, management will get increasingly more desperate to keep me as my contract slowly expires - that’ll give me all the power in negotiations.’

Hermione’s troubled frown deepened. ‘You know me Gin, I’m no sports-fan, but that sounds awfully risky - what if you get injured?’

Ginny sighed, falling back on her bum and running a hand through her coppery locks. ‘That’s the big risk, obviously. If the worst happens, and I get injured worse than magic can heal, I’ll be screwed - but at least I’ll have a filthy-rich husband to fall back on now.’

They both laughed as Ginny took out her comms again and started to take more pictures of the adorably sleeping Rose.

‘How good is the quality of the camera?’ Hermione asked curiously, looking over her own device with a critical eye. Apparently she was more interested in examining its physical make-up than toying with its features and finding out for herself.

Not that she could blame her. Ginny still didn’t understand how it captured images with enchanted gems.

‘The quality is perfect,’ Ginny gushed and, after taking a few more pictures of her baby niece, handed her comms over to Hermione so she could see for herself. ‘Harry showed me how the muggle ones look and, while you’ll never convince me what they do isn’t magic, his is way better - though Harry says they’re getting better every year.’

Hermione’s eyes widened at the quality as she started scrolling through the pictures with a smile. ‘This looks much clearer than my parents’ phones.’

‘Muggles are apparently happy with keeping the pictures on their phones and computers?’ Ginny asked with a questioning tone, earning a nod from her friend. ‘Harry doesn’t think that’ll translate well, he’s working on a way to let people print out - what? What’s wrong?’

Ginny stopped her explanation, her eyes wide with surprise as Hermione’s face had turned a deep red. She’d begun frantically swiping and tapping at the screen before giving up and throwing the phone back at her with a cry of frustration.

Ginny, her reflexes allowing her to snap the comms straight out of the air before it even hit her, flipped the device around in her hand and, when she saw the picture on the screen, she blushed prettily. ‘Oh, oops. Sorry Mione, forgot those were in there.’

On the screen was one of the many pictures she’d taken last month during her night of passion with Raheem - the picture in question showing the huge, and very obviously not Harry, man spearing her delicate pussy with his monstrous tool while he stood between her splayed legs.

It had actually been the first time she’d been able to use the device and, what better time than when her husband was barred from watching her fuck her big, dominant lover to give it a test run?

He’d certainly approved after the fact, and they’d gotten plenty of use out of the photos since.

In retrospect, taking the photos had been an accidental stroke of genius. Reliving the memories, with magical assistance and without, was certainly incredible, but there was just something delicious about sending your husband naughty photos while he held important business meetings.

Photos accompanied by equally naughty messages.

The ability to do that was enough to justify the invention of the MagiComms on its own, in her utterly biassed opinion.

Mmm, I miss Daddy.

She felt her pussy start to tingle in phantom pleasure as she relived the memories, before shaking her head, remembering where she was and tucking her comms away. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised again, her cheeks flushed. ‘I didn’t mean for you to see those.’

Hermione cleared her throat, her cheeks equally red and stood to put the sleeping Rose in her cot at the other end of the room. When she returned, Ginny had gotten up off the floor and sat in the nearby armchair, her legs and arms crossed while Hermione did likewise.

She was struggling to meet her gaze.

‘It’s…okay. Ron already told me about that after Harry told your brothers. It’s just… I was surprised. It’s one thing to know, and quite another to, well, see.’

Ginny grinned, taking a perverse delight in how uncomfortable her prudish friend was with everything. While she wasn’t as flustered as Hermione, and definitely not as prudish, it was still a little embarrassing.

‘So,’ Ginny said, breaking the awkward silence and getting Hermione to finally meet her gaze again. ‘What do you think?’

‘What do I think about what?’ Hermione asked a little too quickly and a little too defensively. ‘I don’t have any opinion. What you two do in your own time is your own business -’

She cut off her rambling answer with an even stronger blush as Ginny started chuckling at her, grinning knowingly. Realising how ridiculous she must have sounded, she saw the humour in it and joined her.

‘Mione,’ Ginny began, her voice soothing and her smile genuine. ‘We’ve been sisters far longer than you’ve been married to my brother. I know you, and I know you have a million questions.’

She didn’t have to be a freakishly skilled legilimens like Harry to know that about her sister-in-law, she was practically vibrating in her seat with repressed excitement as she desperately tried to suppress her inquisitive nature.

‘Does Harry really enjoy it?’ she asked, her brown eyes wide, her words coming out in a breathless rush as she stopped holding herself back. Ginny only smirked and Hermione shook her head before she could answer. ‘Never mind, stupid question. Not even you could make Harry do something he doesn’t want to do.’

Ginny just grinned wide, lifting her long-forgotten glass of wine up to acknowledge the point. She was rather enjoying this. Harry and she had been playing this game for years - she’d always yearned to have someone she could confide in about it.

There was always her teammates, but their relationship wasn’t quite close enough yet to share that much of her life with them - though the thought of Harry fucking them in front of her always got her juices flowing.

‘So,’ Hermione tried again, her cheeks flaming, ‘Harry’s really a cuckold?’ she whispered, as if the word was taboo. ‘I never would have guessed it from him - he’s too prideful.’

‘We’re both cucks,’ Ginny confirmed, smirking at Hermione’s wide-eyed look of shock. ‘How much did Ron tell you?’

‘Nothing about you,’ she admitted, and while she was trying her best not to look judgemental, she was certainly looking at her differently now, a fact which had her womanhood tingling. ‘He told me they thought you were cheating on Harry, and when they confronted him to tell him, Harry explained that it was all consensual - you’re both cuckolds? How does that even work?’

She shrugged, feeling a surge of warmth in her breast that her brothers cared about Harry enough that they’d rat her out like that for his sake.

‘We both get turned on by watching the other shag other people - it’s that simple really,’ she explained with a shrug. ‘It’s not a lifestyle for us - if that’s why you’re confused - just a kink we partake in every so often. It’s…really hot. For both of us. Think of it like a limited open relationship, but both of us are also extreme voyeurs.’

Hermione, her cheeks red and her gaze fixed on her lap, took a moment to absorb that. She clearly looked troubled and surprised by the specifics, but apparently didn’t want to appear too judgemental.

She often struggled with that.

‘How long has this been going on?’ she asked, finally looking up from her lap and sinking deeper into her armchair, breathing out and relaxing her tense shoulders.

Ginny grinned, her expression no doubt reminding her friend of the Kneazle that caught the Fwooper. ‘Since we started dating back at Hogwarts.’

Hermione’s face scrunched up in confusion as she tried to process that nonsensical factoid, and failed. ‘You two didn’t start dating until after - Oh my God!’

Ginny’s grin widened and she chuckled. ‘Yuuup.’

Hermione’s eyes widened further, and she pointed at her accusingly. ‘Oh my God!’

Ginny only grinned smugly, letting her get it out of her system.

The story Harry and she had told everyone had been that they hadn’t started dating until after she’d graduated. The truth, however, was a bit more complicated. They’d started dating in Harry’s final year at Hogwarts, but had kept it on the down-low. It was far easier to indulge in their kinks if their peers didn’t suspect anything.

Way less pointless drama too. Pretty much every bloke she’d shagged had expected her to swoon and swear herself to them, while every girl Harry had been with had basically fallen in love at first sight.

We’re both just a couple of filthy, degenerate, heartbreakers.

Hermione finally got over her shock and turned back to her, her head tilted and her eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’

‘What d’you mean?’ She asked, frowning in confusion. ‘I told you, because it turns us on.’

Hermione made an adorable, frustrated sound in her throat and vibrated in her seat in annoyance. ‘What about it turns you on? Don’t you get jealous? Angry? Doesn’t seeing Harry with another girl make you want to hex his bollocks off?’

Ginny closed her eyes and remembered. Two months ago, Harry had brought home the rep from the company that provided him the truesilver he used in his inventions. She was beautiful, with olive skin, a mane of voluminous, black hair, thick-rimmed glasses and lips that could suck the scales off a dragon.

She’d been bound and forced to watch as Harry had brought the woman to several screaming climaxes, all the while the woman looked at her like she was a nutter, like she was disgusting, worse than gum on the heel of her ten-thousand galleon shoes.

She’d made her feel small, pathetic, and not good enough for her own husband.

The memory caused her pussy to start tingling in need. She desperately wanted to touch herself, Hermione be damned, but she couldn’t.

She was a good girl.

‘That and so much more,’ Ginny finally admitted, letting out a deep breath and opening her eyes to see Hermione looking at her with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

Apparently she hadn’t done as good a job at hiding her arousal as she’d thought.

‘But all those feelings combine with my love for Harry and it just makes everything…so hot.’

‘So why do you need to involve other people at all?’ she asked, her voice boiling over into true frustration at her lack of understanding. ‘Is Harry not enough for you? Are you not enough for him?’

Ginny sighed and took another sip of her drink. ‘We don’t need it, we want it - how many times a week do you shag Ron?’

Hermione reeled back in shock at the unexpected and highly personal question. She almost looked ready to build up a head of steam and chew her out for her impropriety, but thankfully thought better of it.

It would be pretty ridiculous given their current conversation.

She blushed and looked away from her, at everything but her. ‘Once a month, maybe? If we’re lucky.’

When Hermione saw her brows raise in surprise, she hurried to defend her husband and their sex life. ‘You’ll understand if you ever have your own children - they monopolise your time and energy.’

Ginny felt unreasonably thankful that Hermione had said if and not when. She was honestly at her wit’s end having to endure her mother’s badgering about them starting a family and giving her more grandchildren.

She still seemed to think that Quidditch was just a phase, or a silly game for her, a pointless frivolity that distracted her for what really mattered.

‘Right, well, obviously I can’t really speak to that, but I am a professional athlete,’ she began, shrugging her shoulder and taking another sip. ‘It’s not like I’m ignorant to being low on energy, but having said that, Harry and I still have sex pretty much every single day.’

Hermione’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline when she noticed the complete lack of mirth or boasting in Ginny’s tone.

‘That…’ she began, choosing her words carefully, ‘sounds really exhausting.’

She grinned. ‘You’re not wrong, but all Harry has to do is let me know he has a date, or remind me how much prettier than me his last shag was, or how much sexier, tighter, how much of a better wife they’d make - anything along those lines and it’s all I can do to not vanish all of my clothes and fuck his brains out. Likewise, all I have to do is show Harry one of those pictures you saw and he’ll caveman drag me to the nearest surface and have his way with me. We’re always horny, and we can’t keep our hands off each other - it’s lead to an amazing sex-life.’

Hermione was speechless, her cheeks fully blazing now for an entirely different reason. Ginny watched as her eyes glazed over, her mind floating away into the land of fantasy.

She had to put a stop to that disaster in the making.

‘Don’t even think about it.’

Hermione’s eyes cleared and she looked at her in confusion. ‘Beg pardon?’

‘Cuckolding,’ Ginny clarified, her tone serious and absent the light-hearted, sexually-charged nature of everything that had come before. ‘Don’t even think about it. It’s not for you two. It’s not for most people.’

She puffed up, somehow offended by the claim and, Ginny was sure, not even sure why. As much as she loved Hermione, the woman had a colossal chip on her shoulder when it came to being told she couldn’t or shouldn’t do something.

‘Mione, I know you both. It’s not for you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have other kinks you can explore to spice up your sex-life - like getting caught shagging in the library.’

Her indignance quickly made way for shock and mortification.

‘How could you possibly - I’ve never - oh, my God, did I?’

Ginny laughed, Hermione’s reaction pure gold. ‘No Hermione, you do not talk in your sleep. That’s the most obvious Hermione kink I could think of though.’

She looked away, flushing in embarrassment, looking especially frumpy with her thick, knitted sweater and frizzy hair. Ginny knew better though, her best friend was a bombshell - when she wanted to be.

‘Am I that obvious?’

Ginny chuckled more quietly, without any hint of mockery, mindful of the sleeping Rose. ‘Just because it’s obvious doesn’t make it any less titillating. And maybe it’s not just the library, maybe you like the idea of being a naughty girl and being caught in general?’

Her dropped gaze and fidgeting gave her away.

‘Don’t let Ron ever say I don’t do anything for him - but just think about that. Imagine someone walking into your office and catching Ron bending you over the desk like a common slag. Imagine your tits, big with milk, flopping all over the place as they watched in shock - how could they ever look you in the eye again? What would they think -?’

‘Enough, I get it!’ Hermione laughed, her face a brilliant crimson but her smile wide and radiant as she fanned herself and shifted awkwardly in her seat, her knickers no doubt as damp as her bra. ‘And that kind of dirty talk is all it takes and the two of you are going at it like rabbits?’

‘Well, our fantasies stem from real-life experiences, so it’s a bit different - you just need to find out what Ron’s kinks are,’ she explained as the two settled back comfortably in their seats. ‘Talk to him about it, the conversation alone might be enough, honestly.’

Hermione waved her off, taking a sip of her steaming tea as she leaned back in her plush armchair, the crackling fire bathing the room not wholly responsible for the warmth both were feeling. ‘I don’t need to, I know my husband well enough. I just need to lick his bum and he’s instantly ready to go.’

She started to laugh hysterically at the look of sheer disgust on Ginny’s face.

‘I could have gone the rest of my life happily not knowing that.’

‘Oh grow up,’ Hermione chided with an eyeroll. ‘Show some maturity. I shag your brother, you’ve seen plenty of evidence of that tonight.’

Grimacing, she cursed Hermione for putting that disgusting image in her head. ‘I think the fact that I didn’t projectile vomit all over you shows a remarkable amount of maturity, thank-you-very-much.’

Hermione giggled again, but rolled her eyes and let the matter drop.

‘At least we know the dirty talk works,’ Ginny joked, motioning over to her best friend. ‘You haven’t stopped fidgeting in your seat since this conversation started. I bet your nipples could cut glass.’

Hermione blushed prettily and, slipping a hand under the hem of her jumper, confirmed the truth of Ginny’s words with a wide grin.

Ginny was smiling wide, fond memories of evenings spent at Hogwarts in either of their dorm rooms where they’d talk late into the night resurfacing and filling her with a different kind of warmth. ‘You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to talk to somebody about this.’

‘It is rather nice,’ Hermione admitted with a shy smile as she took another sip of her tea. ‘Even if it has made me terribly randy. I almost want to touch myself right now.’

Ginny shrugged, leering at her and wagging her eyebrows. ‘Don’t let me stop you. Just because I can’t touch myself doesn’t mean you can’t. It’ll be just like old times.’

Hermione frowned after getting over her embarrassment, and Ginny realised what she’d accidentally let slip.

‘What do you mean -’ then her eyes widened, her cheeks reddening again. ‘Tonight?!’

Ginny smiled and shrugged. ‘If I touch myself, he’ll know - Harry always knows - then he’ll lock me in the cupboard and I’ll only be allowed to listen instead of watch.’

‘That’s utterly barbaric!’ Hermione exclaimed, any traces of embarrassment long gone and replaced with righteous indignation.

Indignation that quickly faded as she winced, realising she had been a bit too loud. They sat there in a tense silence, waiting to see if they’d woken Rose before sighing when it became apparent they hadn’t.

While they waited, Ginny had pulled out her comms and started scrolling through her illicit image collection. When it became clear Hermione’s outburst hadn’t startled Rosie, Ginny turned the device to her with a raised brow. Hermione flushed crimson at the image showing her lying prone on her bed, capturing both the mammoth, obsidian shaft buried half-way in her and the man-mountain behind her. It was a selfie, and while Hermione only had eyes for the sexy man and his legendary equipment, Ginny pointed at the cupboard door in the background.

‘Harry’s in there while I’m shagging Raheem, tied to a chair and forced to listen instead of watch because he was a naughty boy,’ Ginny explained with a grin as Hermione’s cheeks became progressively redder. If the only thing she got out of this conversation was seeing how easily and rapidly she could redden her friend’s cheeks, it was all worth it.

Hermione had stopped trying to climb on her high-horse and Ginny grinned as she stared, transfixed, at the erotic image before her.

‘He broke free of his bindings and destroyed his chastity cage so he could wank. He was punished for that. It’s just how we play.’

Ginny wanted to laugh at Hermione’s expression. It looked as if her brain had stopped working, from the picture of the incredibly handsome adonis shagging her sister-in-law being shoved in her face, to the news that Harry endured the utterly ‘barbaric’ treatment she thought was only imposed on her and finally, to him wearing a -

‘A chastity cage?’ she squeaked in shock.

Ginny smiled wide. ‘You know what they are?’

If her face gets any redder I’m worried her head will pop off.

‘I may have read about them,’ she admitted while fidgeting in her seat and Ginny’s smile widened even more. While she was certain cuckolding wasn’t for Ron and Hermione, Dom and Sub play definitely was, in her opinion.

The fact that she might have put the idea in Hermione’s head made her want to cackle in glee.

‘Then I’m sure you’re aware it adds a lot to the humiliation and angst. You know men, their entire self-worth seems to be tied to the size of their cocks.’

They both giggled knowingly at the truth of her words.

‘So I’m not allowed to touch myself and, when I get home tonight, that armchair in our room you love so much? Harry made it for me. The second I sit in it, straps will grow from the leather and bind me completely - stopping me from getting free and being a bad girl.’

‘But that didn’t stop Harry,’ Hermione said - bless her - defending her.

She only shrugged. ‘The downsides of being married to a genius artificer. He’s unfortunately quite…handy with his wand. If I get him horny enough, there’s nothing I can do to stop him from breaking free.’ Then she leaned forward, her eyes shining with glee. ‘You’re a genius too, though. How good are you at enchanting?’

Hermione shrugged at the praise, surprised by the non-sequitur. ‘I’m not as good as Harry, but I’m sure I could get by, why?’

She started to get excited as the idea formed in her mind. ‘I’ve been meaning to find a chastity cage for him that he can’t just break, but magicals suck at making sex toys that aren’t, you know, dangerous.’

Hermione’s eyes gleamed, Ginny had thrown down the gauntlet and given her a problem for her analytical mind to solve. ‘Yeah, you don’t want to mess about with dark artefacts, no matter how appealing they may seem.’

‘So?’

Hermione leaned back in her chair and shrugged. ‘Is that all? You just want an unbreakable chastity cage that Harry can’t just overpower?’

‘At least, sure,’ Ginny agreed, almost bouncing in her seat with excitement. ‘Can you do that?’

‘That’s easy,’ Hermione said with a puzzled frown. ‘Just go and buy a chastity cage and inscribe an unbreakable charm - is that really all you were struggling with?’

Ginny rolled her eyes in annoyance. ‘You and my husband are both the same. Enchanting is an advanced NEWT class for a reason, Hermione!’

Hermione flushed at being called out and shrugged. ‘You’re talented with a wand, I’m sure you can learn it.’

Ginny waved her off. ‘That’s what I’ve got you for. Self-cleaning is obviously a must, if that also vanished any bodily fluids, that would be amazing too.’

Hermione started to fidget in her seat again, the conversation exciting her far more than normal. ‘A general cleaning enchantment will handle that - is that all?’

Ginny thought, biting her lip and fidgeting as well as another idea crystallised in her mind.

Heroine wasn’t the only one turned on by the conversation.

‘Is it possible…to make his cock and balls shrink once the device is locked? Temporarily? Only while he’s caged?’

Hermione frowned, apparently confused by that request. ‘Okay, that sounds harder. May I ask why? I can’t imagine there’s much point once he’d locked away anyway.’

Ginny grinned. ‘You know, I always suspected you two had shagged at least once over the years, but never admitted it to spare our feelings or some such bollocks. You guys were always so suspiciously close - what, with all those mysterious late-night studying sessions and all. I guess that really wasn’t the case.’

Hermione’s eyes widened indignantly. ‘What? Me? With Harry?!’

Ginny rolled her eyes. ‘I say that because you wouldn’t have asked me that if you had seen him. Harry’s…big.’ Hermione flushed scarlet when Ginny held her hands eight inches apart. ‘Not as big as the bloke in the photos, but bigger than most. And he’s a shower, not a grower. He mostly just gets thicker when he gets hard.’

From memory, she held her hand in a claw-like shape, as if she were actually holding her husband’s hard cock, her fingers and thumb not touching.

Hermione’s eyes widened further.

‘Right? It makes finding men to cuck him with a right nightmare. I need to find blokes with bigger dicks than him or he’s just not as turned on by it - again, the humiliation thing. If I could shrink him though? That would be so wicked, and convenient.’

Hermione was just gaping at her like a fish, not knowing what to say.

‘Can you do it?’ Ginny asked with a raised brow, after several moments of tense silence.

Her question snapped her out of her reverie and, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, her blush calmed as she frowned in thought. ‘Each enchantment on its own isn’t terribly difficult - even the localised shrinking charm. I’m assuming you’d also want some pretty advanced locking charms so he can’t just get out of it with magic.’

‘Naturally,’ Ginny agreed with a sexy grin.

Hermione sank back into her chair and took another sip of her tea before grinning cheekily at her. ‘Buy a chastity cage that’ll fit him and leave the rest to me. This actually sounds like fun. I wish I could see the look on his face when he tries to break out of it and can’t.’

Ginny mirrored her laugh and took another sip of her wine. ‘I’d take a picture and show you, but I’m not sure your husband will approve of having photos of his naked brother-in-law on your phone.’

They both giggled again before lapsing into a companionable silence. One Hermione broke with her nose raised in the air as she affected a pompous stance. ‘As for my payment…’

Ginny grinned as she waited for what she’d say.

‘I want to see the rest of those photos. I’m really rather randy, you know.’

Ginny cackled and the two met on the two-seater while Ginny scrolled through all the photos of Daddy shagging her brains out, Hermione getting increasingly hornier with each new image.

Ginny pretended not to notice when Hermione discreetly slipped a hand into her lap and started rubbing herself over her trousers. She didn’t know why she tried to hide it, they’d openly masturbated in front of each other at Hogwarts before.

Maybe now, as a mother, Hermione thought she was above such kinkiness.

Ginny would have to disabuse her of that notion.

Hermione’s eyes widened and she turned to Ginny with rosy cheeks, an image of her riding Raheem reverse cowgirl, his huge dick spearing into her little pussy filling the screen.

‘So Harry’s on a date right now? Is he with anyone I know?’

Ginny’s lascivious smile faltered and she felt the all-too familiar queasiness in her stomach as she answered.

-

The second Ginny had sat down in her special armchair in their bedroom, naked as the day she was born, the expected straps grew out of the back, arms and legs to secure her tightly.

She always felt so vulnerable like this, completely unable to shield herself and utterly exposed to the women Harry brought home to make love to.

Exposed like a filthy little pervert, a degenerate who didn’t deserve someone as wonderful and incredible as her husband. When the women would look at her with gazes that said as much, like she was pathetic, pitiable and stupid, it was like adding fuel to the inferno burning inside of her.

When she heard the sound of the Floo flaring, followed by the all-too familiar laughter that accompanied it, her stomach started doing loop-de-loops while her pussy tingled, desperate for her attention. She looked down at her naked body and whined, the thought of what the insanely beautiful woman would think when she saw her making her feel incredibly insecure.

She doubted she was the only woman who she made feel that way, though none of them were likely in this situation…

When they stumbled into the bedroom attached at the lips and their hands all over each other, a powerful pang of jealousy and arousal spiked through her and inflamed her pussy further.

The fact that they completely ignored her only added to her arousal.

Fleur looked incredible - when does she not? - dressed in a black turtleneck, red tartan skirt and black stockings. Ginny had always been jealous of the beautiful Frenchwoman, ever since she’d seen the way Harry and she had bonded back at Hogwarts, her inferiority complex starting from all the way back then.

And now she would watch her shag her husband.

They finally pulled apart, their faces only an inch apart with Fleur’s forearms resting lazily over her husband’s shoulders and Harry’s arms encircling her slim waist and holding her against him.

Bloody hell, they make such a beautiful couple.

Ginny’s breathing became ragged as she watched them gaze into each other’s eyes, their desire for one another so thick in the air and palpable she felt she could cut it with a knife. Fleur then started speaking to Harry in French, a language her husband spoke but she did not. She’s quiet, her tone sultry and sexy and, even though Ginny had no idea what she was saying, the words inexplicably turned her on.

That brought Ginny up short.

While Hermione and she had done some questionable things for two straight witches to do in the privacy of their bed canopies at Hogwarts, it had never crossed the line. They’d helped each other with spells to get off in the best way possible, never once had she been turned on by her beautiful best friend. The way Fleur’s voice sent her pussy tingling had her frowning and examining herself internally.

I don’t think it’s her allure…

She had enough experience with mind magics that she was confident she’d be able to detect if Fleur was affecting her in a supernatural way.

She didn’t think she was.

So…?

Was she turned on by Fleur? By a woman?

She bit her lip and whined as she allowed the sinful thought to drift out of her mind. They were speaking to each other in quiet French, still utterly ignoring her and looking very much like real lovers.

They looked like husband and wife, and she, just a dirty pervert who was forced to watch them.

With a wide smile, Harry gently pushed Fleur down onto the bed and lifted one of her long legs up so he could meticulously unbuckle her boot. Fleur leaned back on her arms and watched him with a heated, half-lidded gaze, biting her plump lip and eyeing her lover hungrily.

The way her husband was so gently, so lovingly treating Fleur had Ginny’s stomach tied up in knots. It was both distressing and incredibly arousing.

He’s treating her like a princess. Like she’s me… but better.

With her boots off, Fleur slid back onto her bed and bit her lip as Harry first removed his shirt, then trousers.

Harry would never be confused with men like Raheem. He was no uber-buff beefcake who spent every waking hour in the gym. He was slim, but he ran and did bodyweight exercises every day, leaving him a physique packed with shredded, wiry muscles.

Standing there in just his pants, he looked like he belonged on the cover of one of Hermione’s illicit romance novels. In her opinion, her husband was stupidly handsome, which only made his envious glances at her bulkier lovers all the more ludicrous and sexy to her.

Fleur seemed to agree and likewise approve, her eyes raking up and down his physique as he stood there and smiled down at her, muttering something to her in French.

Why does everything in that language sound so sexy?!

Whatever he’d said earned a wide smile from Fleur. Ginny’s breath hitched when, as if prompted by something Harry had just said to her, the beautiful woman flicked her gaze in her direction, her eyebrows raised in challenge and her beautiful crystal orbs dancing with mirth.

With only the briefest of glances at her naked, bound body, Fleur immediately looked away with a casual dismissal that drove Ginny crazy. So much so that she writhed against her immovable restraints and whined deep in her soul, desperate to touch herself but, unlike her slippery eel of a husband, she had no chance of even summoning her wand and freeing her hand.

When Harry dropped his pants, it was Fleur’s turn to whine as his long, thick cock unfurled itself and hung heavily over his bollocks. With a whimper, Fleur extended her long, graceful leg and, with the tips of her toes, brushed the length of Harry’s gorgeous shaft as it rapidly started to harden and he groaned in appreciation.

Both Fleur and Ginny’s breath hitched when Harry crawled onto the bed, his emerald eyes dark with lust as he started trailing kisses up the French woman’s perfect body. He started at her perfect ankles, then trailed kisses up her perfect calves. Her perfect knees soon followed and then he trailed his tongue along the insides of her perfect thighs before swerving around his panting and wide-eyed lover’s perfect womanhood.


Bloody hell, how is she so flipping perfect?!

She felt a gentle tingling in her mind and her eyes widened, her breath hitching as she desperately tried to clear it.

If Harry’s sideways glance and cheeky grin at her was any indication, she was…less than successful.

Who came up with this ‘clear your mind’ bollocks?! It never works!

She flushed in shame. Harry had no doubt glimpsed into her sinful thoughts and witnessed her less than subtle admiration of Fleur’s body.

Feeling like a child who’d had her hand caught in the cookie jar, she watched as Harry trailed kisses up his writhing lover’s body and captured her lips in a heated, passionate kiss that earned him a deep moan that he eagerly swallowed.

In between kisses, they were constantly speaking in French and giggling like high-school sweethearts. Not knowing what they were saying was driving her wild - she felt like an imposition in her own home, only feet away from her own bed. Fleur seemed to have picked up on her angst, because she kept looking over at her bound and naked form, grinning cheekily while locked in a passionate embrace with her husband.

It made her want to scream, whether in arousal or frustration she couldn’t rightly say. What she could say though was that she’d soaked the chair she was sitting on, her juices flowing freely, leaving copious evidence of her arousal.

She could do nothing though but watch as another woman, one she’d always felt inferior to, passionately kissed the man she loved. She whimpered again and, finally noticing her desperate mewlings, Harry pulled away from his lover and finally stopped kissing her luscious lips.

Ginny perked up, biting her lip when her husband’s gorgeous emerald eyes were finally focused on her.

Then her stomach churned with angst and jealousy when Fleur palmed his throbbing member and gave him a gentle squeeze, instantly pulling his attention back to her. He looked at her with a loving smile and said something to her in French. They both chuckled and Ginny audibly and pathetically whined. That only earned more chuckles from the beautiful couple and Ginny was so jealous and turned on she was grinding her leaking pussy as much as she could against the drenched, textured fabric of the armchair.

Ginny ignored her mounting desire when her husband pulled away from the gorgeous woman and gently removed her tight, turtle-neck. Fleur lifted her arms to help him and, by some miracle or wicked sorcery she couldn’t divine, her perfect, wavy blonde hair somehow looked untouched.

Harry next unzipped and pulled off her tartan skirt, leaving the stunning woman in naught but her slutty, black lace lingerie and stockings with garters.

Ginny found her attention equally being pulled between the stocking-garter combo and Fleur’s perfect, lace covered breasts. It was honestly unfair how effortlessly beautiful she was and, as if somehow sensing her thoughts and lustful desires, Fleur looked over with that infuriating, sexy smirk that was quickly driving her wild.

Even more wild…

Fleur hummed in approval when Harry rested one of her long legs against his chest, her foot right next to his head, as he started to kiss the inside of her ankle again. Fleur closed her eyes and moaned in surprised delight when he kept kissing her there while running his fingers gently up and down the inside of her knee.

This was Harry’s secret weapon. Not his huge dick or his impressive stamina, but his affinity for mind magics. Even as experienced and formidable a witch as her sister-in-law was, she doubted she could detect the presence of Harry reading her surface thoughts like she could - at least not without a lot more experience.

There’s no way she’s not going to get that experience now. I very much doubt she’ll be content with only fucking my husband once, the filthy, sexy slag.

She felt the tingling in her mind again and she flushed in shame and arousal as Harry looked over at her with a raised brow and cheeky grin.

This was where she and Harry differed in their similar cuckolding kink. Where Harry got turned on watching blokes shag his girl better than he could, or seeing her act like a slut for more physically imposing men, she was different.

Ginny loved it when he played on her inferiority complex. When he brought home stunning women and treated them like he normally treated her. The more dismissive and mean he was to her, the better.

It was two sides of the same coin. Harry was more turned on by the visuals, she by the mental aspect.

There was no way Hermione would understand if she just explained it like that, but it was the truth. She didn’t know why, but she did know that, afterwards, when Harry held her and pampered her, the love she felt for him would be at its zenith.

Almost as if he was sampling the best and sexiest the world had to offer, and always coming back to someone as middling and average as her.

Ginny was sweaty and panting with undisguised need at both the show Harry and Fleur were putting on for her, and her self-deprecating thoughts. She watched as her husband pleasured his longtime friend with an expertise Ginny didn’t doubt the woman found confounding and inexplicable.

Fleur had all but forgotten she was there as Harry gently stimulated her erogenous zones and ratcheted up her arousal by orders of magnitude. Ginny had watched him do this countless times and she never got tired of it. Harry was like a maestro that would not be rushed, his lovers his instrument that he played to perfection.

I wonder if she’ll break like the others too?

Fleur was chanting something in French, something sexy and needy and just a little bit whiny. Clearly his ministrations were having an effect, every sensual utterance coming out of Fleur’s mouth sounding more desperate than the last.

It took him twenty bloody minutes of foreplay just to get to the insides of her thighs. Fleur was clearly as desperate as she was for him to move on and get to the good part, but every time she made to speak, Harry would silence her with a look.

The dominating move was so sexy and powerful, both Fleur and Ginny would shudder with desire. The mewling and needy woman even looked at her several times afterwards, sans her haughty attitude and smirks, her face flush with arousal and question. The two bonded in those moments, a shared understanding of what Harry could do and did to them and their bodies.

Fleur bucked and almost came when Harry finally removed her knickers, the flimsy, lace material so damp with arousal Ginny could feel it when he carelessly flung the sexy garment at her, surprisingly eager, face. When Harry gently blew on her quivering womanhood, Fleur moaned the loudest she had yet, her back arching and her hands reaching out to intertwine and lock with her lovers.

Ginny screwed her eyes shut and swallowed her own moan. Even her pussy was perfect. Everything looked supernaturally tight and clean and pale down there, her inner lips nowhere in sight until Harry spread her open with his fingers and gently blew again into her womanhood.

Fleur’s back arched and she cursed, but Harry only chuckled and instead started kissing and licking the insides of her thighs and around her general groin area, paying special attention to everything but her desperate and leaking pussy.

Fleur threaded her graceful fingers in her husband’s ebony locks, and Ginny whimpered at the sight of Harry’s face so close to such a perfect pussy. When Fleur heard her, she looked over at her with a face flushed with arousal and her breath coming in excited gasps, her cheeky grin back in full-force as Ginny desperately tried to get a better angle to see the action.

Seeing what Ginny was trying to do, how she was leaning against her restraints to get a better viewing angle, Fleur laughed and lifted her beautiful, quivering thigh to block her line of sight, earning a pathetic whine from the bound, angsting cuckold.

She didn’t need to see to know when Harry finally started kissing and putting his lips directly on her pussy though, Fleur’s violent reaction was telling and sexy enough.

More rapidfire words in French escaped the beautiful witch’s mouth, her eyes wide and her back arched as Harry pressed forward, pushing the flat of his tongue against as much of her as possible while wrapping an arm around each of her thighs to hold her down and stop her from accidentally hurting him.

Fleur’s head rocked from side to side, a continuous moan escaping her lips that alternated between high and low and every note in between. She had her forearm covering her eyes white the fingers of her other hand were threaded in Harry’s hair, holding him firmly against her gushing womanhood as she luxuriated in Harry’s expert oral attentions.

‘Make her squirt baby,’ Ginny pleaded, unable to hold back anymore, pulling against her restraints so hard her lithe, toned muscles bulged with the effort. ‘Ruin our bed, make her cum all over it!’

Fleur cursed when Harry stopped licking her and looked over at his wife with a raised brow and amused smirk. Ginny’s heart skipped a beat when he didn’t just ignore her lusty pleadings and seemed to consider them.

Before she could pull out her wand and curse him, Harry looked at his lover and started conversing with her in French again, calming the irate Veela down. Whatever he’d said had clearly done the trick, her annoyance shifted rapidly to excitement and her eyes widened with desire before darting to her, a giddy grin on her face. She nodded and bit her lip, earning a chuckle from her husband.

Ginny’s breath hitched when Harry spun Fleur around on the bed so she was laying sideways, her unfairly perfect, glistening pussy pointing directly at her. Ginny found her eyes drawn to the lines of juices leaking out of her womanhood and trailing down to the crack of her ass.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than for Harry to release her from her bindings so she could get in there and lick up that trail of girl-cum herself. When she felt the familiar tingling in her mind, she didn’t even bother trying to hide her sinful thoughts, her face turning redder than her hair as she refused to meet her husband’s eyes.

Harry didn’t position himself between Fleur’s legs like before. Instead, he mounted her in a sixty-nine position, his head above her pussy and his heavy cock no-doubt hanging in the beautiful woman’s face. Then, as if to show he had gleaned exactly what she had been thinking, Harry licked up the line of juices that had so captured Ginny’s attention.

He chuckled at her piteous whine.

When she heard sucking and slurping coming from the other side of her bed, Ginny had to use her overactive, degenerate imagination to picture what was happening. She bit her lip as she imagined Fleur’s thick, pouty lips spread obscenely wide as she took her husband’s shaft into her mouth.

In her naughty imagination, Fleur, the perfect little slut that she was, didn’t even have to try to fully throat Harry’s prodigious member. She was just naturally gifted and perfectly able to satisfy each one of her husband’s sexual needs. She felt her insides churn at the thought, and had a sudden, intense desire to see those perfect lips stretched around Harry’s cock.

Instead, she consoled herself with watching the show her husband was putting on for her. She watched as he grinned up at her before slipping his fingers into Fleur’s unfairly pretty pussy, hooking them backwards and gently rubbing her g-spot. Fleur’s entire lower half jolted at the contact, her appreciative moan muffled by her husband’s dick, but Ginny only had eyes for Fleur’s nethers. She watched, transfixed as her pale, fleshy derriere undulated and shook as she gyrated her hips in a hypnotic dance.

Harry, also apparently appreciative of his lover’s show, bent down and started planting featherlight kisses around Fleur’s clit, each time eliciting another titillating jerk and deep, needy moan from the beautiful woman. Despite her desperate whines though, Harry took his time, gently applying more and more pressure to her g-spot while teasing her clit.

Ginny watched on eagerly, an insane sense of pride threatening to burst from her chest as she watched her man expertly handle her annoyingly perfect sister-in-law. Harry must have seen the jealous turmoil in her features, or read them from her surface thoughts because his lips paused their kissing of Fleur’s womanhood, even though his fingers still undulated and danced inside Fleur’s leaking quim.

‘Hey,’ he whispered, instantly getting her attention and surprising her by finally addressing her directly. ‘Stop comparing yourself with women who outclass you in every way, it’s not healthy.’

Ginny whined at the words, her entire body lurching and struggling against her restraints. Tears of love, lust and frustration leaked from her eyes as she desperately tried to break free and kiss him for his beautifully cruel words. She wanted to worship him, to prove she was more than a useless bint riding his coattails.

Harry didn’t need to be a master legilimens to read her inner turmoil, he knew her well enough at this point to know exactly how hard to push her buttons, and when to pull back and instead massage her ego.

Besides, Fleur had featured in their bedroom fantasies so many times that he knew exactly how his wife felt about her.

Maybe a little too well.

‘I love you,’ she mouthed and Harry winked at her before bending down and licking a tight circle around Fleur’s obviously perfect clit.

Apparently spitting out his hefty cock, Fleur let off a fiery series of rapidfire insults in her mother-tongue that earned a delighted laugh from Harry, and a shake of his hips that had his hefty shaft slapping the cursing woman in the face with a meaty thwack. In response, Harry gave her delectable, meaty inner-thigh a firm slap before going back to teasing her and rubbing her g-spot.

Ginny moaned with wanton lust, her husband sending her a cheeky grin when he heard the noise. He didn’t need to read her thoughts to know what she was thinking. She’d been on the receiving end of this treatment so often that they’d put a permanent cleaning enchantment on the bed and rug so they wouldn’t have to keep remembering to cleanse it of her juices.

Fleur might be bitching now, but she would be singing a different tune soon enough - and Ginny would have a front row seat to her climax, Fleur’s perfect, gushing pussy put on display by her husband.

I’m definitely not a lesbian, but if there was ever a pussy to tempt me…

At the risk of sounding repetitive, Ginny couldn’t help but marvel at Fleur’s tight, perfect womanhood. It was truly a work of art, she wanted to take a picture of it and hang it on her wall - a magical one, so they could see the juices beautifully leaking from it in perpetuity. It was the kind of pussy that virginal, teenage boys idolised because they, frankly, didn’t know better - but this one was real, and it belonged to this French whore.

And her husband was playing it like a maestro, Fleur’s desperate moaning his reward.

And despite having that vision of perfection in his face, her husband still looked up at her with desire - at her perky tits with their pebbled nipples, at her flushed and needy face, at her gushing pussy and at her crunching abs as she strained against her bindings.

The desire in his eyes as he beheld her and the effect he was having on her was enough to assuage her bruised and battered ego.

Ginny jerked when Fleur spat out Harry’s cock again and started screaming something in French. Harry responded with a soothing tone, unperturbed by her urgent cries. Not for the first time Ginny found it maddening that she was left out of the dirty talk between the gorgeous lovers.

Then, Harry bent down and finally planted a gentle kiss directly on Fleur’s quivering clit, followed by a long teasing lick.

Fleur sang. Her pelvis thrashed as she was assaulted by pleasure - her moans didn’t carry the usual tone of a slutty cry of ecstasy as it did a choir of angels singing.

Where did that come from?

Harry continued kissing and licking her clit, his hand applying increasingly more pressure on her g-spot while his other hand blindly pointed at her. Ginny gasped in shock as her armchair silently levitated off the floor and brought her closer until her face was right in the thick of the action.

When she realised what her husband intended, Ginny screwed her eyes shut, bit her lip and moaned with desire. When she opened them again, her vision was filled with the sight of Fleur’s mouthwatering pussy. She was so close the squelching sounds of her husband’s large hand pistoning in and out of her needy quim was like thunder in her ears and Ginny found herself licking her suddenly dry lips with desire.

This isn’t a joke anymore… if I wasn’t bound…

Ginny closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. She even smelled perfect. Ginny allowed Fleur a lot given her beauty and genetics, but on this, she called bollocks.

She must take some kind of potion that makes her juices smell like…is that honeysuckle?

Ginny moaned as she inhaled the tantalising scent, wondering naughtily what she’d taste like. She secretly reminded herself to ask her sister-in-law for the recipe - it was the least she could do after allowing her to fuck her husband.

As if sensing her thoughts, Harry looked up and grinned cheekily at her. Her cheeks flushed crimson when she felt the tingling in her mind recede and she gasped when Harry switched hands, his free hand taking over for the one covered in Fleur’s juices.

Her breath hitched when he held out the soiled hand to her, running his fingers along the corner of her plump lips. He didn’t force her, mostly because he knew he didn’t have to. Screwing her eyes shut, her cheeks burning with shame, she opened her mouth and tried to ignore the chuckle as Harry thrust his soiled fingers into her mouth.

When Ginny tightened her lips around his digits, she suckled and groaned in approval as her tastebuds were greeted with the flavour of, as she’d expected, honeysuckle.

She opened her eyes and gazed needily into her husband’s darkened, lust-filled stare. Fleur was babbling something again, but they only had eyes for each other. Harry’s breathing was heavy as he watched her eagerly and greedily lick his entire hand clean of Fleur’s juices and Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle at the naked desire in his eyes.

I have to admit, he definitely pulled the short straw. I very much doubt Raheem’s cum tasted anything near as nice as Fleur’s…

Fleur’s hips were now undulating like a wave, her chanting increasing in both intensity and volume. Ginny hadn’t the foggiest what she was saying, but it was clear she was on the verge of an epic orgasm.

Apparently expecting likewise, Harry bent down and sucked in his lover’s clit again and started to more violently rub her g-spot. With a squeal, Fleur came on the spot, her back arching and a fountain of juice shooting right out of her cunt with her exultant scream - unbeknownst to her, drenching Ginny in the process.

Ginny shuddered and screwed her eyes shut as the beautiful woman’s squirt soiled her face and chest. Without prompting, her tongue snaked out and started to lick up whatever of the juices she could reach, groaning at the delightful flavour.

Definitely honeysuckle…if I could choose though, I quite fancy butterscotch…

Harry did so adore his butterbeer.

When she finally opened her eyes again, her breaths coming in rapid, excited pants, it was to see both Harry and Fleur watching her with matching, amused grins, the latter looking exhausted, sexually satisfied and supporting herself on her elbows, her perky tits sitting ever so perfectly on her chest.

Ginny flushed under the intense scrutiny, unable to even turn away to hide her shame or cover the clear signs of her arousal.

Fleur turned to Harry and smiled beautifully at him, looking radiant in her post orgasmic glow. She said something, her tone thick with amusement and they both chuckled.

At her, no doubt.

They were playing her perfectly, and they knew it.

When Fleur got up off the bed on shaky legs, giving Harry a look of desire and appreciation as she grasped his shoulders for support, Ginny’s breath hitched when she approached her. In that moment, Ginny stopped lying to herself, Fleur was clearly the sexiest person she’d ever seen and she found herself desperately hoping she’d bend down and capture her lips in a kiss much like the one she’d been giving her husband.

Ginny even closed her eyes and embarrassingly puckered her lips in anticipation as her sister-in-law approached. Instead, Fleur chuckled deep in her throat and started running her fingers all over her soiled chest, neck and face, everywhere she’d been soiled by her release.

Ginny shivered, her eyes wide and needy as Fleur collected some of her own juices on her finger and slipped the digit unopposed into her mouth with an amused smirk. Ginny’s entire body shuddered at the show of dominance, but she obediently sucked regardless.

Fleur continued to do this, feeding her her release as Harry made himself comfortable on their bed and stroked his impressive shaft. He said something to Fleur and Ginny looked back at her sister-in-law to see her biting her lip, her crystal-blue eyes burning with desire and lust as she looked down at her bound form.

Ginny had always felt, even when their relationship had become less hostile, that the beautiful older woman constantly looked down on her. Having her literally do so while having just been made to cum by her husband sent her guts int a churning fit, her pussy aflame with desire and desperate to be touched.

Ginny was so desperate to be touched that, had Fleur gotten on her knees right there and started licking her cunt, she wouldn’t have uttered a peep of protest. Hell, if her hands were free, she’d wrap her fingers in her perfect, golden tresses and hold her face against her desperate and needy quim.

As far as Ginny knew, Fleur wasn’t a legilimens, but the smirk she was gracing her with somehow let her know that she’d read her thoughts without the use of magic. Seemingly done playing with her, Fleur chuckled as Ginny whined and tried to follow her teasing, leaving hand but was foiled by her accursed bindings.

Ginny bit her lips and watched with desire as Fleur crawled over her man. They were face to face now and snogging passionately, Fleur’s bum and perfect pussy only barely blocked from her line of sight by her husband’s towering shaft.

She leaned over and looked around Harry’s cock to get a better look at Fleur’s leaking quim as they remained entangled in their lover’s embrace. As a straight woman, she hadn’t expected to be affected by her sister-in-law so drastically, but seeing this gorgeous specimen making love to her husband, her unreal beauty dangled in front of her like a tantalising and exotic treat, she felt an emotion she hadn’t expected to feel.

At least not in the way she was currently feeling.

Jealousy.

Not of Fleur, but of her husband.

She was jealous that Harry got to kiss those plump lips, that he got to grip that perfect, meaty bum, play with the delicate petals of her flower, suckle on those alluring nipples - just got to be with her in general.

Ginny gasped when she felt the invasive but gentle probe in her mind, her eyes screwing shut in embarrassment and shame as Harry looked around Fleur to stare at her with wide-eyed shock.

She should have known her devious thoughts would be picked up on. Harry was constantly scanning her surface thoughts not only when they made love, but especially when he was cuckolding her. It was how he knew how to perfectly press her buttons and how far to push her at all times.

It was how he made each kinky experience perfect for her.

Ginny opened her eyes tentatively and her husband’s look of shock had changed to one of delight and amusement, his wide smirk as electric and powerful as if he’d touched her aching and desperate pussy directly.

He sat up, pulling Fleur so she was sitting beside him as they watched her squirm in her seat. At Fleur’s questioning tone, Harry leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Ginny squirmed in her seat, her guts doing loop-de-loops as Fleur’s eyes steadily widened in shock before pulling away and scrutinising her bound form in an entirely different way, truly assessing her for the first time.

When Fleur grinned sexily at her, biting her plump lower lip, Ginny closed her eyes and moaned long and loud, bucking futilely against her restraints. This was too much, her mind was hazy, warped by her arousal. She was more horny than she’d ever remembered being and wanted desperately for somebody, anybody to touch her.

When she opened her eyes, she gasped when she found her vision filled with Fleur’s beautiful, grinning face. Fleur’s hands were on the armrests of her chair and she was bent over, her lips barely an inch away from her own. Ginny looked past her, at her husband who was standing behind her and grinding his aching manhood against her fleshy behind. Ginny then looked down, trying desperately to avoid this alluring siren’s gaze and was instead met with her delicious hanging tits.

An amused chuckle ripped her gaze back towards her sister-in-law’s crystal blues and her eyes widened when the smug, superior expression shifted to one of pure ecstasy as her husband no doubt slowly parted the lips of her flower and slid that big cock of his into her.

Fleur’s head hung limply, her blond tresses falling into her lap and tickling her already hyper-sensitive nethers as Harry slowly thrust in and out of her, ripping deep, guttural moans from his lover. Looking down the length of her back, Ginny’s eyes widened at the impossibility of what she was seeing.

She watched, transfixed as her husband groaned in delight, Fleur’s bum rippling as he bottomed out in her with each thrust and her absurd pussy easily took the entirety of his eight-inch cock.

She watched, her eyes wide with shock until Fleur lifted her head again and blocked her vision once more, her crystal-blues twinkling with mirth and arousal. Ginny’s breath hitched as Fleur leaned in and she wet and puckered her lips expectantly. She flushed with shame however when Fleur instead slipped past her mouth with a chuckle and instead put her lips right against her ear, her warm breath sending pleasant tingles down her spine.

‘I’ve wanted to fuck your man for so long,’ Fleur moaned, for the first time that night not only speaking to her, but speaking in English. Ginny whined at the sinful words, fidgeting in her seat and rubbing her desperate pussy against the textured seat.

‘Did you know,’ she began whispering again, her voice oozing such sex appeal that Ginny was worried she’d cum from the sound of it alone, ‘that aside from our unearthly beauty, and our magical allure, part-Veela only share one other trait with our full-blooded cousins?’

Ginny was hanging on her every word, the deep moans Harry ripped out of her as she spoke only added to the power of her voice. It was as if she’d been hypnotised, rendered docile by pure sex appeal alone.

‘W-what’s that?’ Ginny asked, hating how weak, shaky and desperate her voice sounded to her ears.

She could hear her smug grin in her tone.

‘Our vaginas extend to perfectly match the length of our lover’s shafts,’ she whispered, and Ginny’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Ow do you think your ‘usband feels? To finally be making love to a woman who is worthy of ‘im?’ Ginny whined at her cruel words as they paradoxically set her pussy alight with lust and desire. ‘Do you think ‘e is ecstatic to finally be fucking someone ‘e does not ‘ave to worry ‘e will break?’

Fleur finally pulled back, her crystal blue eyes almost shining as she stared into Ginny’s wide, brown ones.

‘It was a mistake ‘aving me here. ‘Ow can you ever compare?’

Ginny shuddered violently at her cruel words, her eyes wide and her breaths coming in rapid, excited gasps. It was as if Fleur had pierced right into her mind and plucked out her deepest insecurity and said the perfect thing to fan the fire of her arousal.

Did Harry tell her what to say?

Ginny opened her mouth as if to speak, but Fleur shushed her with a smirk and a look. Her mouth still hanging open, Fleur leaned up and, grabbing one of her perfect, perky tits, she fed her an equally perfect nipple. Ginny shuddered violently but froze as if she’d been petrified, her eyes wide with surprise and arousal.

It all happened so fast, and Ginny was so muddled by her arousal and emotional turmoil that she didn’t even think to turn her head when presented with the pale pink, galleon-sized nipple.

Then, she was so turned on that she didn’t even hesitate to suckle.

Fleur groaned with delight, burying her face in Ginny’s coppery tresses as both husband and wife pleased her at both ends, spiking the arousal of everyone in the room tenfold. While her vision was obscured by a waterfall of blonde, lavender-smelling tresses, her husband’s groan and the sound of his thrusts picking up in speed let her know what the cheeky cad thought of the direction the night had taken.

Fleur was back to chanting something incredibly sexy in French as Harry shagged her like a machine, the words close enough to her ear that it set her body tingling with arousal.

She’d never felt so pathetic as she did in that moment, suckling on the tits of her husband’s far more beautiful lover.

She had also never been more turned on. It felt like this moment would star in their fantasies forevermore and she wondered how they would ever top it.

Ginny only knew that they were both nearing completion when the sounds of Fleur’s increasingly needy moaning picked up in volume and the tempo of her husband’s powerful thrusts increased and became more erratic.

Fleur looked back at Harry, imploring him in French as the sounds of his groin clapping against her meaty cheeks became louder and more violent. Fleur then whirled around, burying her face in her coppery tresses again as she chanted one word over and over, her entire body shaking and convulsing.

I guess that means ‘cumming’?

If she wasn’t so desperately horny, Ginny would have laughed at the absurdity of finally picking up some of the romantic language in such a bizarre situation.

Fleur’s entire body stiffened, the chanting ceased, her moans died in her throat and she convulsed as her orgasm ripped through her incredible body. Then both she and Harry let out deep, guttural moans as he no doubt emptied his seed in her horny, mokeskin pouch of a magical perfect pussy.

Honestly, that is SUCH bullshit.

Silence reigned for several moments as everyone worked to catch their breaths and regain their senses.

‘I can feel ‘is cum in me,’ Fleur whispered sinfully in her ear, her voice sounding like pure sex. She pulled back, laughing as a rather obstinate Ginny refused to give up her nipple without a fight. ‘Do you want to see?’

Ginny gasped, her eyes wide as Fleur finally stood before her in all her perfect glory, grinning down at her with smug satisfaction. Before she could answer, she turned and bent over, presenting her once-again alarmingly tight pussy to her as if for inspection.

Harry walked around her, his half-hard and slick cock shoved in her face.

‘Clean me you worthless slut.’

Ginny whined at the harsh words but eagerly obliged her husband. She bent over and took his flagging cock in her mouth, sucking and licking up all of their combined juices with a gusto she would have never expected to feel until tonight.

Her eyes never left Fleur’s gorgeous pussy though. Both Harry and Fleur laughed when they realised where her attention truly lay. When Harry’s cum eventually started leaking out of the impossibly tight hole, she whined around his thick cock and they chuckled again.

Harry reached down and spread Fleur’s delicate flower, allowing his cum to properly start oozing out of her.

He then reached up and ran a hand through her ginger hair. Turning her head so she was forced to look up at him, her eyes wide and pleading, he grinned. ‘Are you going to be a good little hostess and clean up the mess I left in our beautiful guest?’

Ginny’s eyes widened at the unexpected but not entirely unwanted escalation. Both she and Fleur groaned and her sister-in-law showed her eagerness by backing up so far into Ginny’s face she was sitting astride her armchair, her knees resting on the armrests and her pussy only millimetres away from Ginny’s suddenly too-dry lips.

‘Lick her clean you disgusting little cuck.’

The harsh words lit a fire in her and crashed into her as if they were a physical blow. Almost involuntarily, Ginny shot forward and buried her face in Fleur’s meaty behind, her tongue sticking out and squireling itself into her tight pussy and eagerly swallowing the familiar seed.

I’m going down on a woman. I’m going down on a woman. I’M GOING DOWN ON A WOMAN!

The mantra only served to fan the flames of her arousal, and when her husband praised her, calling her a ‘good girl,’ the effect only increased.

‘Such a good little cunt-licker,’ Fleur groaned, reaching back and forcing her face further into her perfect pussy. She rocked back and forward, clearly approving of Ginny’s technique as she rode her face. ‘’Arry, I must insist that you lend me your pathetic, whore wife whenever I have a pussy full of cum. She is… gifted.’

‘Would you like that?’ Harry asked, leaning down to his wife’s ear and hugging her head against his groin, his tone thick with his desire.

No shit. There’s no way he’d have been expecting this, he must think it’s his birthday and Christmas rolled into one.

‘Please,’ Ginny begged, her voice muffled by Fleur’s delectable womanhood.

‘Hm?’ he asked, though Ginny knew full-well he knew what she’d wanted.

‘Please touch me,’ she begged again. ‘I need to cum, please let me cum. Please, please.’

‘I asked you a question,’ Harry replied, not giving into her pathetic pleading tone and while his tone wasn’t cruel or mean like it had been earlier, his soft, commanding tone sent a shiver through her body.

‘...yes.’

‘Yes?’ he prompted, and Fleur sucked in a breath at the submissive tone of her voice - and at what they meant.

‘I’ll clean her whenever she wants me to.’

It was Fleur’s turn to moan with unbridled desire at the sinful, sexy promise as Ginny dove back into her womanhood, finding she was rather enjoying herself, despite how embarrassed she was. She slurped up the thick dollop of her husband’s cum that had oozed out of her and she moaned at his familiar flavour.

It was then that she realised Harry was no longer stroking her hair and comforting her. Pulling back, ignoring Fleur’s annoyed curse, her eyes widened when she saw Harry pointing his comm at her and taking pictures.

Almost out of sheer embarrassment, and with a desire to hide her face, she dove back into Fleur’s womanhood and started licking her delicious pussy all over again.

It wasn’t until Fleur released all over her face that Ginny had realised she had long since cleaned her sister-in-law’s pussy of all of her husband’s cum, she’d just lost herself in eating out a pussy for the first time.

When she realised this, she pulled back her eyes wide with shock but also a little pride.

I guess I’m bi-sexual?

As Fleur stood on shaky legs, patting Ginny’s head appreciatively, she almost cried in frustration as she watched Harry lead her over to their marital bed again and was forced to watch them make slow, passive love in front of her while completely ignoring her existence. No matter how much she begged or pleaded for them to let her join them, they just acted like she wasn’t even there and lost themselves in their passion for one another - years of pent up desire being unleashed before her very eyes.

They kept at it for hours, her husband showing off his incredible stamina as he brought his lover to half a dozen orgasms. They were so beautiful together that it honestly made Ginny sick to her stomach.

By the time the lovers had had their fill of each other, sunlight was peeking through the windows. Ginny started awake at the sound of them softly speaking to each other in French. They were laying in bed, Fleur fully naked and snuggled up against her husband’s equally naked chest and smiling up at him beautifully.

They looked less like friends and more like real lovers. She could imagine a timeline in which their friendship at Hogwarts extended further than it had and it was she that Harry married.

The thought made her sick, but as she watched Fleur dress, the sexy siren sending both she and her husband teasing grins as she made a show of it, she was amazed to find that her lust for the part-Veela extended into this morning.

It wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. Ginny was genuinely attracted to Fleur.

To another woman.

With one final, passionate kiss - one that Ginny knew, deep in her soul, wouldn’t be their last - Fleur finally left after Harry handed her a pair of MagiComs for herself and Bill.

She wondered if they were loaded with pictures of the previous night’s festivities.

The naughty thought had her whining again.

When it was just the two of them alone in the silence of their apartment, Harry approached her. He was still naked, his big, spent cock dangling between his legs as he, with a flick of his wand, dispelled her bindings and finally freed her.

‘Please,’ she whined, almost delirious, her mind still addled by sleep.

She collapsed into his arms, so tired that she didn’t even have the energy to touch herself, despite how desperately she wanted and needed it.

Instead, Harry bent down and picked her up like a princess, carrying her to their bathroom. She actually started to cry when she saw he’d already drawn her a bath with her favourite, soothing potion and she just about sobbed when he lowered her into the regenerative waters.

She made to plead with him again, desperate for her husband to touch her but he silenced her with his lips. Ginny moaned into his mouth, her flagging energy surging as she devoured him with a sudden and mounting fury.

Then she squealed and sobbed for real when she felt his fingers spreading the sensitive and truly desperate lips of her womanhood, gently rubbing and caressing her just the way she loved.

When she came, it wasn’t with a scream, but with a relieved whimper. She held onto her beloved husband like he was a buoy in the stormy sea, her body quaking and shuddering with pleasure and released tension.

After Harry gently dried her and carried her to their bed, she started to whine and shiver anew when he snuggled up behind her, pulled the blanket over them and whispered into her ear.

‘Her pussy was so incredible, my love. The best I’ve ever had.’

Her body quaked at the meanness of his words, and at their timing. It hit so much harder coming right after their moment of love and tenderness.

Her husband knew her too well.

‘I never had to be careful. I could fuck her as hard and as deep as I wanted, and she’d just massage me the whole time. It’s like her pussy was made for my dick.’

It sounded like her pussy was made for every dick, but that didn’t mean the words stung any less. Ginny found, almost against her will, her hands trailing down her body and to her leaking womanhood. Harry’s deep chuckle right in her ear earned full-body shiver, and he gently bit her ear before continuing.

‘Is that why you were always such a cunt to her? Were you worried she’d take your man?’

Ginny whined, her body and reaction answering for her.

Harry pressed himself so tight against her, it was hard to tell where she ended and he began. His lips were right against her ear and, while pinching a nipple and rubbing her clit, he whispered the most sinful thing of all.

‘You should be.’

Ginny’s orgasm was so powerful her vision whited out and she knew no more.