The Perfect Lunch (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Threesome, Anal, Breast Play, Teasing, F/F, Cuckquean.

Prologue:

“Harry, darling, are you quite done? Hermione said the party starts at seven and it’s six already.”

Unspeakable Daphne Potter pushed open the door to her husband’s office and walked inside, grinning and rolling her eyes at the sight that greeted her.

“Seriously?” she teased, hastily shutting the door behind her. The Ministry had officially closed for business for the day but there were still people in the building and it wouldn’t do for one of them to walk in and see the Minister’s assistant bent over his desk, getting dicked down to within an inch of her life.

Penelope barely acknowledged her presence but Daphne doubted she was in any condition to do so. Her eyes were glazed over and she was moaning loudly around the lacy red panties stuffed in her mouth. Her parted pink lips gleamed with the drool coating them, as did her creamy cheeks. Her luscious brown hair was free from its usual bun and fell in waves down her back. Daphne resisted the urge to bury her hand in the girl’s gorgeous locks and pull her curvy body towards her.

Penelope Clearwater was a diamond in the rough. Demure and innocent, few people knew she was a bombshell underneath her baggy clothes and stern visage. Daphne honestly preferred it that way.

Penny was a treasure that neither she nor Harry ever had an intention of sharing with anyone else.

“Two minutes,” Harry grunted as he pushed his hand into Penelope’s hair himself and pulled her flush against his chest. Knowing how much his wife enjoyed the view his free hand shifted to grab one of Penny’s thighs and he pulled her legs apart, giving Daphne an unobstructed view of their girlfriend’s gleaming core, dripping with arousal and desperate for attention.

Daphne’s eyes flickered to the thick shaft thrusting in and out of the girl’s ass for a brief second and she bit her lip to stifle the groan building up in her throat.

She kicked aside Penelope’s white uniform robes as she made her way to the desk, her grin growing as she studied her husband’s assistant.

On the surface, nothing had changed. Penelope Clearwater was a dedicated employee who followed every rule in existence without deviation or hesitation. She still wore her Ministry robes without making any modifications to them and still wore her hair in a severe bun. She was at her desk ten minutes before the arrival of her boss without fail and never left his side until he left the building.

People joked she was the Minister’s second wife.

If they only knew how true that is, Daphne mused, shamelessly ogling the naked girl.

While things remained outwardly unchanged, in reality, everything had changed over the past three months.

For one, while she still religiously wore her uniform robes, Penelope had stopped wearing anything underneath them except stockings and her heels, giving Harry easy access to her whenever he wanted it.

Which was just as well, because pregnancy had left Daphne perpetually horny. Fate had also seen it fit to give her a difficult pregnancy (Greengrasses were famous for those, after all), which meant her only way to blow off steam was to watch her husband plow his secretary twice a day.

A trickle of arousal leaked out of her as her eyes followed the gentle bounce of Penny’s heavy breasts. Her pink nipples had pebbled and stood at attention, two rosy peaks crowning her creamy mounds. Harry hadn’t bothered to stop thrusting in and out of her, his thick cock plunging deep into her ass every time he rocked his hips. Daphne clamped her thighs together, rubbing them to generate friction as she stared at her husband effortlessly dominating the older brunette.

Penelope’s wanton moans were muffled by the panties stuffed in her mouth, her mind hazy with the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Didn’t you have her for lunch?”

“Blame her,” Harry grunted. “She ‘dropped’ a file and bent over to pick it up.”

“Shorry mishthress,” Penelope mumbled, her wide blue eyes fixed on the woman she loved.

“You don’t need to apologize, darling,” Daphne said, leaning over the desk. She reached out and pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I know it’s not your fault. The man we love is a devious bastard,” she teased. She gently pinched a stiff pink nipple, her core tingling at the quiet yelp of surprise from Penny when she twisted the rosy nub.

Cakes weren’t supposed to fall in love with her husband (and certainly not with her, most viewed her as the competition, not a companion). They were supposed to get fucked, then get out.

Somehow, sometime in the past three months, Penelope had fallen for them both and she had allowed it instead of cutting her off.

“Absolutely not,” Daphne finally said, going against the very loud and persistent voice in her head that demanded that they skip the party and spend the night in Harry’s office. “Your two minutes is actually twenty minutes and I can’t arrive at Hermione’s birthday party looking like this. Not when Thornberry is on the guest list.” She scowled. “I need at least an hour and a half to shower and get ready.”

“Can’t leave Penny like this,” Harry grunted, his thick cock effortlessly pistoning in and out of her puckered hole. His shaft gleamed with the lube he had generously slathered on it, his firm thrusts making quick work of the feeble resistance offered by her walls.

“Then don’t. Dress our doll up and bring her home. You can finish her off later tonight,” Daphne murmured, kissing Penny’s cheek. “I’m sure Penny understands that you can’t be late, or Merlin forbid, skip your best friend’s birthday celebrations.”

Penelope groaned in disappointment but didn’t protest, knowing better than to try and argue against Daphne.

“W-what’re you saying?” Harry nearly stumbled in surprise and paused, looking at his wife with wide eyes.

“I’m saying we take sweet Penny home,” Daphne murmured, pulling the panties free from Penelope’s mouth. She quickly pressed her lips against hers, drowning out Penelope’s disappointed groan when Harry paused mid-thrust.

“What?!” Harry exclaimed in surprise. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath and his eyes searched his wife’s face, trying to figure out if her words were a test.

They had rules in their lifestyle and they had never deviated from them. Ever.

And for good reason.

Despite the freedom she gave him (or because of it) the only person he had ever wished to come home to was her.

Although Penny had wormed her way into his heart and the protective side of him rebelled at the thought of throwing the sweet, innocent girl to the wolves once they were done playing with her. To his surprise, it seemed Daphne felt the same way.

“They say it takes a village, right?” Daphne gently caressed the gentle curve of her belly. “We’re Lily’s parents, Harry. You, who literally burned a teacher with your bare hands and broke every school rule in existence during your time in Hogwarts. And me, who got kicked out of Mungo’s because I couldn’t be arsed to follow their bureaucracy and their stupid rules. Our child is going to need someone to teach her the importance of rules and boundaries. And who better than Penny, if she’ll have us?” Daphne whispered as she pulled away from Penelope, a thin trickle of drool still connecting their swollen lips.

Penelope’s heart soared but she looked up anxiously at Harry, not wishing to accept before she knew what he thought about the proposal.

“Are you sure, Daphne?”

“I’m quite done with fending off people like Thornberry who think just because I like being a cuckquean they can replace me. And-” She raised a hand to stop Harry from speaking. “I know it’s irrational but I’m tired of being afraid that the next cake we find will replace me. Penny is sweet, kind, and loves us both equally.” Daphne grinned, her eyes flickering to Penelope’s heavy breasts. “Plus, you have to admit she’s hotter than every cake we’ve had before.”

“So hot,” Harry groaned. His cock twitched inside Penelope, the sudden stretching of her tight ass causing the girl to squeal loudly.

Daphne was already wavering but then she made the mistake of looking at the innocent wide-eyed puppy dog expression on Penny’s face and she broke.

It’s not like I need him to get ready, she reasoned.

“Alright. Twenty minutes. That’s all you get,” Daphne growled, leaning in to kiss both of them quickly. “I want both your asses at home before they’re up or I swear Penny and I are kicking you out of bed for a month, dearest.”

She winked at Penelope, who giggled dreamily.

Harry smiled lazily before he began to thrust again. “Guess I get to have my cake and eat it too.”

It had all started with the perfect lunch.

---

Three Months Ago:

“Alright, I’m done for the day Penelope.” Harry sighed and placed the shut file on his assistant’s desk. It was barely noon but it felt like he had been working for days.

Being the Minister of Magic was hard work.

Being a competent Minister is hard work, Harry reminded himself. Following Fudge’s example would have been easy and as the man himself had proved, consequence-free. After all, Fudge had nearly ruined their society and let Voldemort win and was enjoying retirement at a lovely beachside house in Cornwall. What a reward for sheer stupidity and incompetence.

Harry sometimes wondered about disappearing, about roaming the world without a care to burden his shoulders. Fanciful thoughts, he knew. Kingsley had led them well for nearly twelve years, working tirelessly to rebuild a better society for them after the war and it was up to him to finish the job.

Anything else would mean that the deaths of his friends would be in vain.

So he labored day and night to fix everything that was wrong with their world, and there was a lot. So much, in fact, that even Kingsley had not been able to repair all the rot that had seeped into their society in his twelve years in power.

“Leaving early, Minister?” his assistant asked, breaking him free from his thoughts.

Harry smiled at the brunette. Penelope Clearwater. She had been a few years above him, a Ravenclaw who had briefly dated Percy Weasley.

That, and the fact that she had returned to fight in the final battle was all he really knew about her.

His assistant was a reserved woman. She arrived before him and never left until he had. Her work was impeccable and she often anticipated what he needed before he had realized it himself. Austere, simple, and a lover of rules, he could see why Percy had once thought they’d be a good fit. Her sleek brown hair, like always, was secured in a simple bun. He had never seen her in anything but the baggy white robes trimmed with blue that was the official Ministry uniform.

Nearly everyone else in the Ministry added their own spin to it but his assistant wasn’t one to deviate from regulations.

“I’ve been going over the draft treaty with the centaurs for nearly three hours now. I need a break.” Harry rubbed his tired eyes. When Firenze had warned him about his brothers, he hadn’t been kidding. The centaur delegation had elaborated on even the minutest of points in great detail, wishing to cover all future possibilities.

He’d have respected their attention to detail if he wasn’t the poor bugger expected to go through it all.

“I can ask Thornberry from Legislative Affairs to join you if you’d like some help, sir. I’ll have some lunch delivered to the office while the two of you pour over the minutiae of the treaty,” Penelope offered, her voice crisp and business-like.

Harry smiled fondly. Efficient as always. She was half the reason his first year in office had been such a success. The other half was why meeting Thornberry in his office was a bad idea.

“Trying to have me sleep on the couch for a month, are you, Miss Clearwater?” Harry teased with a crooked grin. “The couch in my house’s living room is tiny and if I develop a crick in my neck I’ll make it everyone’s problem.”

Penelope blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t quite understand-”

Harry cut her off with a chuckle. He carelessly waved his hand, putting the anxious girl at ease. “Relax. I’m just messing with you. It’s just that my wife and Miss Thornberry don’t like each other.”

Understatement of the year. Daphne Greengrass and Patricia Thornberry trading insults at every Ministry Ball and Function was a sight to behold. They carefully couched their venom in sweet words and backhanded compliments which were an art form in their own right.

“Why?” Penelope asked, blushing lightly when she realized she had overstepped her bounds and asked what was a highly personal question. It was none of her business and she had no right to ask such a question to her boss, but she was burning with curiosity and couldn’t help herself.

All of Magical Britain had been fascinated by the union of Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, and time had done nothing to diminish that curiosity.

“It’s… complicated,” Harry said with a disarming smile. Their friends (well, Hermione and Luna) knew about their private life, but Harry had no desire to broadcast it for the world to see. There was no such thing as a real secret in the Ministry and he had found that gossip spread faster than fiendfyre.

He doubted Daphne wanted the world to know about her peculiar tastes. No, it was bad enough that Thornberry needled her about them at every official function. Thornberry, who had heard the rumors through the Pureblood grapevine and made the cardinal mistake of assuming that Daphne’s tastes meant she could be easily replaced both in his heart and in the power hierarchy of the Ministry.

A fatal error.

Daphne had paid the woman back for her arrogance, subtly but in a way that still left no doubt about the source of the retribution.

His wife was the perfect Slytherin and not a woman he ever wished to cross.

If she ever decides to be a Dark Lord we’re all well and truly fucked.

“Oh. I’m sorry for the intrusive question, sir.” Her voice broke him free of his thoughts once more and Harry watched as Penelope shrunk back in her chair, chewing her lower lip in worry.

Harry reached out and patted her shoulder to reassure his overanxious secretary. “You’re fine, Miss Clearwater. It’s better you know this if I’m honest. My wife will make me sleep on the couch for a month if she learns I was alone with Miss Thornberry in my office for an extended period of time, especially if said period involved a meal. So let’s make sure that never happens, hmm?”

He doubted Daphne would actually do anything of the sort. She trusted him. She also trusted Patricia to be true to her nature.

The last thing he needed was a blood feud between the Greengrass and Thornberry families because Patricia’s clumsy attempts to seduce him enraged his wife enough that she hexed her rival to have horrible acne for a year.

“Understood,” Penelope said with a firm nod.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Daphne will undoubtedly want to show me what she’s been working on,” Harry murmured as he pulled away. She’d undoubtedly also want to do something else but that part wasn’t something he cared to mention in the prim and proper company of his secretary.

Penelope nodded and returned her attention to the correspondence she had been sorting on her desk, watching him leave from the corner of her eye.

It was a short walk from his office to the elevators and Harry was thankful he didn’t meet anyone along the way or in the lift itself.

“Department of Mysteries,” he told the gangly youth who was operating the lift before making his way to the back of the small space. He leaned against a wall and shut his eyes, his mind drifting to Daphne.

Love over a bottle of Skele-Gro, he thought with a quiet chuckle. It wasn’t exactly accurate but that was the story they told everyone.

It hadn’t been love, at least not originally. He had hated her and her rather unconventional means to make him drink his medicine.

Their relationship hadn’t been something anyone had seen coming and that had been by design. The first time they’d met was in the Hospital Wing, as was the second, and the third. She had helped Madam Pomfrey patch him up every time and since he was a regular visitor they had taken up talking and formed a strange sort of kinship. She had been one of three Slytherins to stay back and protect the school during the Final Battle. After everything was said and done he found her tending to the wounded, ignoring the half-dozen cuts and scrapes she was bleeding from herself.

He’d never forget the look on Ron’s face when he cupped her soot-covered cheeks and kissed her hard.

“Here we are, Minister,” the youth squeaked as the lift shuddered to a halt.

Harry smiled at the boy as he walked out of the lift and into the dark and foreboding atmosphere of the lowermost floor in the Ministry building. He knew better than to enter the Department proper without a guide. Instead, he turned right and walked down the heavily carpeted hallway, glancing at the names on the doors on either side of him until he reached his wife’s office.

‘Unspeakable Daphne Potter’

He wondered why she hadn’t kept her name, at least in the professional setting.

“Darling,” Daphne murmured without looking up as he walked into the room.

Harry chuckled. “You’re a witch, woman. How’d you know it was me?”

“It’s lunchtime.” Daphne shrugged and did not elaborate. She looked up at him with a happy smile on her face. “You look deep in thought. Still struggling with the centaur treaty?”

Harry groaned. “There’s so much to go through. I’ll need a stronger pair of glasses by the time I’ve finished reading the fine text,” he muttered. He used his foot to shut the door behind him before walking towards the large oak desk that dominated the small office. “But no, I was wondering why you didn’t keep your name in the workplace like Hermione did or even hyphenate like Ginny.”

Daphne shrugged again. “I like my name.” A small smile played at the corner of her lips as she looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Plus, everyone knows I’m a Greengrass. There’s a lot of advantage in reminding them I’m a Potter too.”

She pushed her chair away from the desk, making space for him to squeeze in between her and the table. She kept her legs crossed even though she needed stress relief just as much as he did. Their lunch dates always ended the same way but she liked to push his buttons, make him work for it until he cracked and ravished her.

Granger had enough of gentle missionary and sweet pillow talk for both of them. No, what Daphne craved was toe-curling, bruising, utterly sinful ravaging.

The only thing she wanted more was to watch him do it to someone else but suitable options had been somewhat scarce ever since Hermione had chosen the monotony of monogamy. She had no intention of letting any and every floozy who fantasized about replacing her as Mrs. Potter get their hands on her husband.

“So, what are you working on?” Harry asked, interrupting her mental search for a suitable partner.

“The same thing I’ve been working on all year,” Daphne replied, rolling her shoulders to work out the tension building up in her back. “Infertility. So many witches suffer from it and given our precarious state after the war, you’d think we’d devote more resources to solving it.”

“I’ve assigned the finest mind in my employ to the problem,” Harry pointed out with a proud smile. “Although it would be remiss of me to point out that you’d make more progress if you cooperated with St. Mungo’s.”

Daphne growled and pushed her chair back in frustration, getting to her feet. “Those old farts are more concerned about their ideals than doing the right thing for their patients. They kicked me out because I dared to suggest that fertility rituals rooted in blood magic were the solution to our problem, remember?”

“Daph-”

“What do I always say?”

Harry chuckled and pushed his arms under her shoulders. He effortlessly lifted his wife off the ground and turned, depositing her on top of the parchments scattered on her desk. “Never let your sense of morals stop you from doing what is right.”

A very Slytherin way of looking at things, he supposed.

“Exactly. I’m close to a breakthrough, I just need to work out two more pages of runes. Their meaning keeps escaping me.”

“Did you ask Mione?”

“She’s on her honeymoon, Minister,” Daphne reminded her husband. Her hands rested on his firm chest, slender fingers toying with the buttons of his white shirt. He had ditched his cloak, something she was immensely thankful for. She rather liked looking at her fit husband and if she wasn’t concerned that every woman from the ages of eighteen to eighty would jump him, she’d have made him come to work shirtless. “Although, now that I think about it, she might welcome a break from the drab mediocrity Ronald brings to bed.”

“You’re incorrigible.” Harry groaned softly as Daphne’s hands shifted down to his crotch and she gently palmed the rapidly growing tent in his pants.

“I’m just saying, for a smart woman, she made a very dumb decision,” Daphne whispered, leaning forward. Her lips brushed against his ear and her hot breath tickled his skin as she slowly undid the button of his pants. Her fingers hooked in the waistband of the trousers and she inched them and his boxers down his firm thighs, teasing him without completely removing the pressure on his rapidly hardening cock. “I have it on good authority that the man she was with before her marriage fucks like a god.”

Harry’s breath hitched when she finally let his trousers pool around his ankles, his throbbing manhood springing free. He groaned quietly at the sudden disappearance of pressure, his eyes fluttering shut when her hands immediately moved to wrap around the base of his impressive girth. She gave his shaft an experimental pump, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Does he now?” Harry rasped, his throat dry.

“Hmm. That’s what I’ve heard. Maybe I need a refresher to remind me…” she whispered, the nail of her thumb grazing over Harry’s sensitive tip.

Harry groaned and bucked his hips, the gentle sting causing a trickle of precum to leak out of his tip. It dribbled down onto her fingers, staining her skin.

“Have you ever thought about practicing what we preach?” Daphne asked casually, knowing exactly which button she needed to press to push him over the edge. She brought her hand to her lips and made a show of licking her fingers clean, never once breaking eye contact with him.

Her free hand moved to his shirt and she quickly unbuttoned it, her gaze finally lowering when he rolled his shoulders and shrugged off the garment. It fluttered to the ground and she took a minute to shamelessly admire her husband’s broad chest and firm muscles.

He had always been handsome but a few years of proper nutrition and exercise had turned him from the boy she had crushed on from their second year in Hogwarts to the Greek god he was today.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, tugging on the strings that held her robe together.

“I mean we’re doing so much to help the magical population recover from the aftermath of the war… it’d be hypocritical of us not to pitch in ourselves.” She picked up the small vial of Birth Control Potion from her desk and twirled it between her fingers, the bright green liquid sloshing around in the tiny glass container. “I’m supposed to take this today but I could just…” She stretched out her hand, holding the vial over the bin next to her desk.

Harry’s eyes widened and for a second she worried he had forgotten how to breathe.

“Are… are you serious?” he whispered, unable to believe what she was saying. A family of his own was his biggest dream and she knew just how badly he wanted it.

If she was truly ready for it…

His cock throbbed as the fantasy consumed him.

Daphne simply smiled and dropped the vial in the bin to answer his question. “You. Me. Baby. Now,” she whispered, her gray eyes twinkling with suppressed excitement.

Harry roughly pushed her down on the desk, his trembling fingers moving to unbutton her blouse. While he worked to take off her clothes she reached up and freed her hair, letting her gorgeous blonde locks fan around her head in a golden halo.

She giggled when his fingers fumbled with the strap of her bra. “Let me,” she said teasingly, arching her back to allow her hands access. The bra was wordlessly pulled away the minute it was unbuckled and Daphne moaned quietly as her heavy breasts bounced free.

Harry stood fixed in place, entranced by the gentle jiggling of her perfect tear-drop-shaped breasts.

He’s such a boob man, Daphne thought with a giggle. She shimmied out of her skirt and panties, letting them dangle from her ankles.

“You know, they’ll get bigger if you put a baby in me,” she teased, snapping him free of his reverie.

Harry growled and grabbed her knees, roughly pushing her legs apart. The skirt and her panties fluttered to the floor and she lay on the desk, without a stitch of clothing covering her. His eyes roved over her perfect body, his cock twitching with increasing frequency as his gaze moved from her perfect cheekbones down to her creamy breasts.

She spread her legs further and his eyes shifted to her slick slit, her bare core guarded by pink puffy lips gleaming with the arousal leaking out of her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry said hoarsely, utterly captivated by the vision of beauty below him. Their lives would never be the same, he could feel it in his bones.

Unnoticed by either of them, a pair of eyes spied upon them through a crack in the door, knowing what she was doing was wrong but unable and unwilling to pull away.

For the first time in her life, Penelope Clearwater decided to abandon the rules that were so precious to her and be a bad, bad girl.

Notes:

I have been writing for a year non-stop and have crossed nearly half a million words in all my stories combined. Without realizing it burnout crept up on me and my motivation suffered during the past two weeks so I took a small break. I'm really thankful for the kind words and support from all you in my Discord Server. Ideas from Patrons make for some of my best stories and I have a feeling this two part story is going to be a banger! Thank you to the Patron who suggested a Harry/Daphne story set in the Ministry and the one who requested a Harry/Penelope story!