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Story: Like a Rag
Storylink: https://uk.groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/seelvorfanfiction
Author: Seel’vor
Rating: NC-17 – No One 17 and Under Admitted

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Harry cried out as his orgasm erupted, sending squirt after squirt of his semen into his fiancé, who cried out as her release washed over her, too. Together, the soggy, sweaty pair collapsed together on the bed, panting heavily.

“You’re so good…” Hermione muttered slowly, feeling Harry’s spunk trickling out of her onto his softening tool. “So very good…”

He grinned slightly, feeling her begin to drift off to sleep. It was a curious aspect of their relationship; after sex, Harry always felt energized and ready for more, while Hermione was the one who began to sleep. He wasn’t adverse to it, since he enjoyed waking her up with a screaming orgasm, which was always satisfying. “Sleep, Hermione.” He cooed softly to her.

“M’Kay.” She mewed as Harry pulled himself off her, mewing again when she felt him slip out. “Sleepy…”

He kissed her, smiling at her half-hearted efforts to kiss him back. “I need a drink.” He whispered, hearing her grunt slightly as he got off the bed. Pressing a final kiss to her cheek, Harry left the bedroom.

Harry enjoyed walking naked around the house, especially on a relatively cool summer evening, while he was sweaty as hell. Of course, the fact that he was staying with his soon-to-be-in-laws made the act just a little more naughty. Hermione, although she never admitted it, loved the nakedness too, but she was a little more shy about it than he was.

He entered the kitchen, spotting Emma sitting at the table with a coffee and a book. She looked up when he entered and froze slightly, before turning, as conspicuously as possible, back to her back.

“Evening, Emma.” Harry said as he ambled to the sink, grabbing a clean glass from the drainer. “Nice night.”

“Hmm.” Emma said, not looking up.

As he ran the tap, wanting to get to the colder water, he glanced over at her. “Good book?”

“Mmmhmm.” She grunted, still not looking up at him, for obvious reasons.

Harry smiled as he filled his glass with water, before draining half the contents and refilling. Once he was less parched, he turned off the tap, and strolled over to the table. Emma was making certain to stare intently at her book, although the lack of eye-movement clearly proved she wasn’t reading.

“So… what brings you to the kitchen at this hour?” Harry asked, resting against the table, the cool wood remarkably satisfying against his buttocks.

“Book.” Emma said, keeping her eyes down.

“Emma?”

“Mmm?”

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?” He asked coyly.

“You’re naked.” Emma mumbled into her coffee cup, still making sure not to look up.

“You love it.” He cooed as he reached out with his free hand, stroking her hair. “We both know you love it, really.”

She couldn’t help but moan slightly as Harry’s fingers ran through her hair.

“Look at you.” He cooed again. “I’ve just finished fucking your daughter into the mattress, and all I have to do is touch you to make you wet. Are you wet, Emma?”

She nodded emphatically, her cheeks lighting up with a blush. She was so embarrassed… again.

“Well, I’m wet, too. Of course, I’m wet because your daughter squirted all over my cock while I was cumming inside her. Why don’t you clean me up?”

Cheeks now a fiery red, Emma looked up to Harry’s face, spotting his rather-sly smile. “Go on.” Harry prompted. “We both know you want to, you dirty girl.”

Emma reached out tentatively, taking hold of the base of Harry’s tool while she moved her mouth to the tip.

“Go on.” Harry said softly. “Take it into your mouth like a good girl.” He sighed happily as Emma’s mouth closed around the head, her tongue darting all over, tasting the combination of his ejaculate and Hermione’s. He was still at half-mast from his shag with Hermione, and Emma’s too-talented-to-be-legal mouth was enough to bring him back to full size within a minute.

“You’re so good.” Harry whispered happily, placing his glass on the table and using both hands to stroke Emma’s kinky hair. “I love how you suck your daughter’s cum off my cock.”

Emma’s blush was bright enough to light the room, but she never stopped her task. She let her hand drop as she leaned forward, taking more of Harry into her mouth, swallowing reflexively when he touched the back of her throat. Once at the bottom, she could smell her daughter on Harry’s pubic hair, and stifled a moan. She knew it was wrong. She knew that it was disgusting. She knew that she could never stop.

She moaned again as she felt Harry’s hands at the back of her neck. She took a deep breath as Harry’s hands ripped her shirt, tugging to make sure the tear went all the way down her back. Frantically, she pulled the ruined shirt down her arms, letting it land in a puddle on the floor. She’d stopped wearing bras ever since… ‘it’ had begun, and the feel of Harry’s hot hands on her back was heavenly.

“No bra?” Harry asked, as he did every time they played like this. “Honestly, Emma, you’re shocking, aren’t you?”

She nodded slightly, enjoying the moan he made as he shifted delightfully in her throat. She pulled back slightly, just enough to remove him from her throat so she could breath, before she leaned forward, swallowing him again.

“Enough.” Harry said, tapping her on the back of her head. Slowly, so as not to gag, Emma pulled back, looking deeply unhappy as she stopped. She squeaked as Harry took a firm-but-still-tender hold on her head and pulled her up, kissing her passionately. Emma gave back as good as she got, gasping as Harry’s hand left her head and began pinching her nipples. She mewed as the sensation rocketed through her, making a small damp patch appear on the front of her jeans.

Her hands trailed all over Harry’s body, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. Her hands though, inevitably, locked onto his cock and began pumping him furiously. He gasped into her mouth, squeezing her nipples tighter on each pinch. She broke the kiss with a fluid moan. “Oh god…”

“You’re… so good…” Harry gasped as Emma pleasured him with her hands. And it was true; Emma’s hands would be able to give a dead man an erection. She could make a corpse cum with her mouth (although, he was pleased to note that he’d never seen it, and hoped that he never would), but he greatest gift… ah, it was that time again.

“Enough.” Harry said, giving her nipples one final pinch as he pushed her back. He span her round, pulling her back against his chest as one hand wrapped tightly around her waist, while the other tugged expertly on the button of her jeans. “I’m going to fuck you, Emma.” He whispered lustily. “I’m gonna bend you over the table and pound on your pussy until you cum on my cock.”

Emma moaned as her jeans were pushed down to mid-thigh, before she yelped as Harry pushed her roughly over the table. She was glad that she’d forgone wearing knickers again. Ever since… ‘it’ had started, she’d only worn them during her monthlies… although, that had never stopped the love machine that was Harry.

The rough wood of the kitchen table felt fantastic as she was pushed roughly into place. The feeling of her jeans keeping her thighs effectively locked into place simply ramped up her desire to be fucked into the tabletop.

She felt a blunt object pressing up against her opening, although she was more than ready to take him inside her. He pushed in quickly, enjoying the feel of her clamping down on him. Even though she’d given birth to his fiancé, she was tight. Not to mention wet as hell. With Hermione, he built up to the brutal pounding that she enjoyed so much, but with Emma, he began at full thrust, his hips slamming into hers.

While Emma was being brutally-but-oh-so-enjoyably pounded, her mind flashed back as to how this wrong but so good situation started. It was her that had initially started ‘it’. One evening several months ago, she’d been in the kitchen, doing some late night dishes while Dan had taken an early night. Harry had come ambling into the kitchen, clad in boxers and a t-shirt, wanting a drink. He stood next to her while he filled a glass from the tap. At that point, she’d been hooked.

She could smell the residue from their energetic sex, and she could see the flush on his face from the exertion. She thought that she’d be able to have a fun stud lover who’d do what she wanted and when. Life with Dan had become insanely dull. He’d become a true old fart, in the sexual sense. He wanted missionary position, lights off and telly on. It lasted on average 2.9 minutes, and she never climaxed.

So, she’d taken the chance and kissed him, her hand expertly going into his boxers. She’d expected him to flinch or try to flee. Instead, he simply stared at her as she began to stroke him. “What are you doing?” He asked, making no move to leave.

“I need you.” She’d said simply. “I need to cum.”

Harry had stared for a moment, before she found herself pressed against the bar and her shorts round her ankles, with a far larger cock than she was used to slipping inside. She’d glanced over her shoulder, only to see him smile and say, “Okay.”

That had started the most curious affair she’d ever heard of. After her orgasm, the wrongness of what she’d done washed over her. She couldn’t look him in the eye the following morning, instead looking down at her breakfast meekly. That evening, after Dan had gone to bed at 9:30, she’d been in the kitchen, reading a book. When Harry had entered, grabbed her and kissed her, she’d tried to protest. For about three seconds. After the fourth second, she’d dropped to her knees and taken him into her mouth.

He was intoxicating. He was able to read her body like Braille, giving her exactly what she needed. She discovered that she liked the sensation of being ravaged by this man more than wanting to control him.

That’s how they’d gotten to this stage, where Harry was thrusting into her enough to make her pussy squirt lightly on each thrust. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were white, but she’d never stop him. He could give her brutal orgasms, almost enough to make her forget what she was doing and who she was doing it with.

She knew it was wrong to cheat on her husband.

She knew it was wrong to cheat on her husband with a boy who was young enough to be her son.

She knew it was wrong to cheat on her husband with a boy who was young enough to be her son, and was engaged to her daughter.

She knew it was wrong to cheat on her husband with a boy who was young enough to be her son, and was engaged to her daughter, just after he’d made love to her daughter.

She knew it was wrong, but she also knew she’d never stop this. She was his for as long as he cared to use her. And she was happy with that.

Emma gasped loudly as an orgasm ripped through her like a missile, and somehow, Harry managed to increase his pace.

“You cum so easily.” He scolded her teasingly. “You get turned on by the fact that I fucked your daughter before you sucked on my cock. You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes…” Emma whispered harshly.

“You enjoy cheating on your husband.” Harry said, releasing her hips and moving up to continue pinching her nipples. “You enjoy being fucked over your table.”

“Yes!” Emma near-screamed. “Fuck me, Harry, please!”

He, somehow, managed to increase his pace, a loud ‘slap’ noise reverberating round the kitchen as he pounded her. “Do you want to cum?”

“God, yes!”

“Then ask me nicely.” He said firmly, reaching down with one hand to begin pinching her clitoris. Her eyes rolled back in her head, but she knew she’d have to ask. Once before, when she hadn’t, he’d not let her cum, leaving her frustrated for three days. She’d learned her lesson.

“Please!” She begged. “Please let me cum! Please cum in me!”

Harry leaned forward, so his head was resting on her shoulder while his cock still drilled into her. “Such a good girl.” He muttered, before adding a hip-rolling motion to his thrusts. He could feel her begin to vibrate as the mother of all orgasms peaked in her belly.

“Cum!” He ordered harshly, feeling her pussy clench so tightly, it held him in place and caused him to cum, too. He could feel her juices washing over him as he pumped his sperm into her. She gasped and moaned as Harry’s pinching motions never ceased, making her orgasm stretch out deliciously.

She was panting harshly, knowing that she couldn’t make any more noise, but unable to keep herself silent. She gasped again as Harry stopped his delicious teasing, wrapping round her stomach as he hauled her upright and fell into the chair she’d been sitting in.

Harry sighed as they landed, feeling his slightly-softening cock get squeezed and lightly abused as she fell on him. As though on instinct, he leaned forward, taking hold of one of her nipples lightly with his teeth, before sucking harshly and nipping gently.

“Harry…” Emma mewed. “Please…”

He reached down to her still-restrained thighs and instinctively began to rub her clit. Her back arched, pushing her nipple further into his mouth, making him suck even more harshly. “Oh, god…” She muttered again as another orgasm began to boil.

“Cum on me.” Harry ordered. “I want you to squirt all over my cock, woman.”

Emma obeyed the order as the orgasm exploded, making her squirt again over his lap, leaving it a spectacular mess. Harry pulled his hand away from her crotch, holding it just in front of her face. “Kiss me.” He commanded firmly. He’d barely finished speaking when she’d grabbed his head, snogging him as though her life depended on it. And in a way, it did. For if Harry ever stopped treating her like his bitch, she’d have nothing but Dan left… and that was no longer enough for her.

Harry pulled back, smiling at her. “You’ve been a good girl.” He said, enjoying the wide smile on her face. “What do we say?”

“Thank you.” Emma replied emphatically, clenching with her inner muscles, mewing when she felt his flaccid cock slip out of her, making her feel empty. “Thank you very much, Harry. I’m glad you used me.”

“Any time.” He said, kissing her lightly, before pressing his hand against her lips. Like a good girl, she sucked his fingers into her mouth, cleaning her essence off him. “Now, I need to get back to bed. Don’t want to upset Hermione, do you?”

“No.” Slowly, Emma hauled herself off of Harry, pulling her jeans back into place. The shirt was clearly a dead-loss, but she enjoyed being topless around Harry. She liked the way he stared at her chest (not to mention abused it so perfectly). “Do you need anything else tonight, Harry?”

He glanced down at his crotch, noting it was wet with his cum and her juices, and pondered whether or not to get her to clean it up. He decided against it, knowing he’d been out here for a touch too long. “Nothing tonight, but make sure you’re ready for the next time.”

“Of course.” Emma said, nodding quickly. “You can use me at any time, Harry.”

“I know.” He said with a sly smile. “As it should be.”


Harry had grabbed the glass from the table and left the kitchen, heading back to his bedroom. He opened the door, spotting Hermione in the same position he’d left her in, lying naked above the covers.

Feeling mischievous and playful, he climbed onto the bed and began to stroke Hermione’s thighs, feeling her moan and part them slightly, even in her sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes, spotting Harry staring at her with his damnable smirk on his face. “Again?” She asked.

“Mmmhmm.” Harry grunted as his began circling her clit. “You know I can never get enough Granger.” He said with a smirk.

Slowly, never breaking contact, Hermione hauled herself upright and kissed her fiancé. Her hand ran lightly up and down his chest, before she broke the kiss, glanced down at his shiny-with-fluid member and smiled. “Look at you, Harry… you’re all messy. I should really clean that up, shouldn’t I?”

The smile on Harry’s face was slightly lusty as Hermione leaned forward, letting her tongue trail against the head as she took him into her mouth.

Maybe one day, Hermione would tell him that his Occlumency shields were useless against her.

Maybe one day, she’d tell him that she’d followed him downstairs one evening a few weeks ago, and had seen just what he’d been up to with her mother.

Maybe one day, she’d tell him that she knew, thanks to his cunnilingus-and-kissing routine, she knew perfectly well what she tasted like, and the essence of woman that she could taste on him now clearly wasn’t hers.

Maybe one day, she’d tell him that she knew everything.

She moaned as she took Harry deep into her throat, relishing the look in his eyes as she began to replay the memory of Harry’s latest kitchen encounter in his mind, watching every disgusting little detail in perfect sound and clarity.

Maybe one day, she’d tell him…

But that wouldn’t be today.

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