Christmas at The Burrow (Ch. 10 - Adventurous Hermione) (Patreon)

Disclaimer: This story takes place after Hogwarts. All characters in this story are consenting adults (18+).

Hermione's cream jumper was bunched at her collarbone, her bare tits on full display in the middle of the Burrow's living room.

Harry stared, transfixed, as his best friend stood there with her magnificent breasts exposed to the afternoon light, her pink nipples already stiffening in the cool air. She was looking past him, checking the doorways, her chest heaving with nervous breaths that made those perfect tits rise and fall. The cream wool framed them like a gift, pushed up high enough that every inch of soft flesh was visible, from the delicate curve where they met her ribs to the dusky pink peaks standing at attention.

Then she yanked the jumper back down, cheeks flaming crimson.

"There," Hermione whispered. "That's... that's more than a kiss on the cheek, isn't it?"

Merlin's fucking beard.

Harry's brain scrambled to catch up with reality. Boxing Day at the Burrow. The house was loud somewhere else, the clatter of dishes and muffled voices drifting from the kitchen where Molly was organising leftovers. It had started innocently enough, maybe five minutes ago, when Hermione had found him alone in the living room.

She'd kissed his cheek. A soft, shy brush of her lips against his stubbled jaw while her hand rested on his chest, her brown eyes bright with badly hidden arousal.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you all morning," she'd whispered. "About... about what we did. What you did to me."

Harry had raised an eyebrow at her. After everything that had happened this holiday, after she'd begged him to cum inside her, after she'd shared his cock with Ginny and Gabrielle and knelt there with his seed painted across her face, a chaste kiss on the cheek felt almost insulting.

"That's all I get?" he'd asked.

Hermione had blushed furiously. Her gaze had darted to the kitchen doorway, then to the stairs, checking and double-checking that they were alone. And then, with trembling hands, she'd grabbed the hem of her jumper and lifted.

Now she stood before him, jumper back in place but nipples clearly visible through the soft wool, her whole body vibrating with the thrill of what she'd just done. Her bushy brown hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, exposing the graceful line of her neck. She wore dark leggings that clung to her hips and thighs and the generous swell of her arse, and Harry's mouth watered.

"Happy?" she asked, trying and failing to sound casual.

"No."

Hermione blinked. "No?"

Harry stepped forward.

His hands slipped under her jumper before she could react, palms sliding up her soft stomach, fingers finding the warm weight of her breasts and cupping them fully. Hermione gasped, her back arching into his touch, her hands flying up to grip his forearms.

"Harry!" Her whisper was frantic. "We can't, not here, someone will see!"

His thumbs found her nipples and rubbed slow circles. Hermione's protests dissolved into a whimper. He ducked his head and pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter wildly against his lips, tasting the salt of her skin as he kissed and sucked at the sensitive flesh.

"Harry, please..." Her voice cracked. "This is insane, anyone could walk in..."

He wasn't listening.

His hands withdrew from her tits just long enough to grip her hips and spin her around, pressing her against the back of the sofa. Hermione caught herself on the cushions, bent forward at the waist, her magnificent arse presented to him in those sinfully tight leggings. She was facing the room now, looking toward the kitchen doorway and the stairs, completely exposed to anyone who might wander in.

"Harry, what are you—"

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings and peeled them down.

The fabric slid over the swell of her arse like unwrapping a present, revealing inch after inch of soft, pale flesh. No panties beneath, just bare skin, her cheeks round and full and absolutely fucking perfect. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he pulled the leggings down to her thighs, as Hermione's glorious arse was exposed to the cool air of the Burrow's living room.

Fuck me.

Her cheeks were plump and generous, begging to be grabbed and squeezed and spread. And between those magnificent cheeks, visible now as she bent forward over the sofa, her pussy glistened pink and wet and ready.

Harry's cock throbbed painfully in his trousers, already hard, already aching. His hands found her cheeks and squeezed, feeling the soft flesh dimple under his fingers, watching the way her arse jiggled with every movement. He spread her open and groaned at the sight of her pretty cunt, her lips puffy and slick with arousal, her entrance clenching around nothing.

She's been thinking about me all morning. Been wet all morning. Probably soaked through her leggings while she worked up the nerve to flash me.

"Harry..." Hermione's voice was muffled against her arm. "Someone's going to see..."

"Let them." He freed his cock with practised speed, sighing at the relief of his shaft springing free from his trousers. "Let them see what a desperate little slut you are for my cock."

Hermione whimpered, but she didn't move. Didn't try to straighten up or pull her leggings back on. She stayed exactly where he'd put her, bent over the back of the sofa with her bare arse raised high, her pussy dripping, her face burning with arousal.

Harry lined himself up and pushed inside.

Hermione's moan was loud enough to make them both freeze. She clamped her hand over her mouth immediately, but the damage was done. The sound had echoed through the living room.

No footsteps. No shouts of alarm. The distant clatter from the kitchen continued unchanged.

Harry exhaled slowly and began to move.

She was tight and absolutely soaking, her cunt gripping his shaft like it never wanted to let go. He pulled back slowly, watching his cock slide out of her, glistening with her juices, then pushed forward again, sinking deep. Hermione bit down on her own hand, muffling the moans she couldn't hold back, her whole body trembling.

"This is insane," she whispered between her fingers. "We're in the living room. Anyone could walk in. Harry, anyone could just—"

He thrust harder, and her words became a squeak.

"You love it," Harry growled, gripping her hips. "You love the risk. The thought of getting caught with your leggings around your knees and my cock stuffed inside you."

"I don't—" Another thrust. Another squeak. "I don't love—" Another. "Oh, Merlin, Harry, right there..."

Her protests were pathetic and they both knew it. Every time he pushed deep, her cunt clenched around him. Every time he pulled back, she pushed her arse toward him, desperate for more. She was dripping down his shaft, her arousal coating his balls, the wet sounds of their fucking obscenely loud in the quiet room.

Harry found his rhythm. Long, slow strokes at first, savouring the view of her magnificent arse spread before him, the way her cheeks rippled with each thrust, the glimpses of her pink hole winking at him above where his cock disappeared into her pussy. Then faster, harder, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency.

Hermione's hand wasn't enough to muffle her anymore. Her moans escaped in broken gasps, her body rocking forward with each impact, her tits swinging freely under her pushed-up jumper. Harry reached forward and grabbed a handful of cream wool, yanking it higher, exposing her entire back and those perfect tits hanging heavy beneath her.

My brilliant best friend. Bent over in the living room. Taking my cock like she was made for it.

"Please," Hermione whimpered. "Please, Harry, harder..."

He gave her harder.

The sofa creaked beneath them. Hermione's gasps turned to moans turned to desperate little cries she couldn't quite suppress. Her fingers clawed at the cushions, her face pressed into her arm, her arse bouncing against his hips with every punishing thrust.

"Someone's going to hear," she gasped. "Harry, they're going to hear me, I can't keep quiet, I can't—"

"Then don't."

"But everyone will know, they'll know we're—"

Harry gripped her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her spine to arch, changing the angle so his cock hit something deep inside her. Hermione's whole body went rigid.

"Let them know," Harry growled against her ear. "Let the whole house hear you screaming on my cock."

Hermione was close. He could feel it in the way her walls fluttered around him, the way her moans grew higher and more desperate, the way her thighs trembled with the effort of holding herself up. She was right on the edge, teetering, and he was going to push her over.

His hand slid around to find her clit, rubbing in tight circles while he fucked her, and Hermione let out a strangled sob she couldn't swallow. Her hips bucked wildly, her cunt clenching and releasing in spasms that threatened to drag him over with her.

"That's it," Harry encouraged, his voice rough. "Cum for me, Hermione. Cum on my cock."

"I'm going to—I can't—Harry, I'm—"

"Magnifique."

Hermione's eyes flew open and locked on the doorway, her whole body going rigid in Harry's grip.

Fleur Delacour stood in the kitchen entrance, leaning against the door frame with one hip cocked, her silver-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a silk dressing gown that did absolutely nothing to hide the outline of her perfect body beneath, the fabric clinging to her curves, the neckline dipping low enough to show the swell of her magnificent tits. She took in the scene before her without the slightest hurry.

Bill's wife stood there watching Harry rail his best friend over the back of the sofa, Hermione's leggings around her thighs and her tits hanging free.

Harry's cock buried inside her.

Hermione went scarlet from her hairline to her chest.

"Fleur!" She tried to pull forward, tried to escape, tried to do anything to salvage the situation. "This isn't—we weren't—"

Harry's fist tightened in her hair, holding her right where she was.

He didn't stop.

His hips continued their rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of Hermione's clenching pussy while Fleur watched with undisguised interest. Hermione whimpered helplessly, her face flaming, her body betraying her completely as her cunt squeezed him even tighter.

"Please, please, please," Hermione babbled, though whether she was begging him to stop or keep going, Harry couldn't tell. Her hips were still pushing back to meet his thrusts, her body moving entirely on instinct, chasing the orgasm that had been ripped away from her at the moment of discovery.

Fleur didn't leave.

She stayed exactly where she was, one perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip, her full lips curved in a knowing smile. Her gaze travelled slowly from Harry's face to where their bodies joined, watching his thick cock disappear into Hermione's dripping cunt with evident appreciation.

"Do not stop on my account," Fleur said. Her accent made the words sound like honey and sin. "I was just coming to see eef anyone wanted tea, but zis is far more... entertaining."

"Fleur, please," Hermione whimpered. "Don't look at me, I can't—"

"But you look so beautiful, ma chérie." Fleur's smile widened. "All flushed and desperate, taking 'is cock like a proper little slut. Does she always make zat face, 'Arry? Zat one where she looks like she might cry and cum at ze same time?"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, mortified beyond words. But her pussy told a different story, clenching so hard around Harry's cock that he groaned out loud.

She likes being watched. She's fucking loving this.

"Answer her," Harry commanded, never breaking his rhythm.

Hermione shook her head frantically.

"Answer her, or I stop."

He slowed his thrusts to a torturous crawl, barely moving inside her, and Hermione let out a broken sob of frustration.

"Yes!" The word tore out of her. "Yes, I always—I can't help it—please, Harry, please don't stop!"

Fleur laughed. "Ze shy one is not so shy after all." She pushed off from the door frame and took a step into the room, her silk robe swishing around her thighs. "Tell me, 'Ermione. Are you going to cum on 'is cock right 'ere? In front of me?"

Hermione tried to twist her face away, but Harry's fist in her hair held her head up, her flushed features on full display for the beautiful Veela watching her debasement. Unable to hide, she squeezed her eyes shut, and still her hips never stopped moving, pushing back against Harry with increasing desperation, her cunt fluttering around him.

"I think she eez," Fleur observed. "I think she eez going to cum for us like a good girl. Is zat right, 'Ermione? You want to show me 'ow good 'Arry makes you feel?"

"Please," Hermione whimpered, though she wasn't sure what she was begging for anymore. Her whole body was burning, the mortification and the arousal tangling together until she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. "Please, I can't—I need—"

"Zen take eet." Fleur's voice dropped, husky and commanding. "Cum on 'is cock. Show me what a desperate little slut you are."

Harry resumed his punishing pace.

Hermione exploded.

Her scream echoed through the living room, through the whole house probably, as her orgasm tore through her. Her pussy clamped down on Harry's cock so hard he had to grit his teeth, her whole body convulsing with the force of her release. She shook and trembled and wailed, past caring who heard her, past caring that Fleur stood right there watching her fall apart.

"HARRY!" Her voice cracked on his name. "Oh Merlin, oh fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, please, please cum inside me, fill me up, I need it, I need your cum!"

Harry's control shattered.

He slammed forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt, and came harder than he had all morning. Rope after rope of hot cum flooded Hermione's spasming cunt, pumping her full while Fleur watched with hungry eyes. Hermione sobbed with pleasure, her inner walls milking him, squeezing every last drop from his pulsing cock.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted deliriously. "Fill me, Harry, give me all of it..."

When it finally ended, when the last pulse of his cock faded and his vision cleared, Harry became aware of Fleur's gaze still fixed on them. He pulled out slowly, his softening cock dragging against Hermione's sensitive walls, and watched his cum begin to leak from her stretched pussy.

A thick white trickle ran down her inner thigh.

Fleur's eyes followed it hungrily.

"Magnifique," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. She lingered for one more long moment, drinking in the sight of Hermione bent over the sofa with Harry's seed dripping from her well-fucked cunt, and Harry saw her thighs press together beneath the silk, saw one hand drift to the tie of her robe and toy with it, her breath coming a little quicker than before. When she caught him looking she did not stop. She smiled, slow and dangerous, her eyes dropping to his glistening cock as if she were already imagining it somewhere else.

"I think," Fleur said, "zat I will 'ave my tea later."

She turned and walked back toward the kitchen, leaving them alone with the smell of sex heavy in the air and Hermione still trembling in the aftermath.

Disclaimer: This story takes place after Hogwarts. All characters in this story are consenting adults (18+).