Holiday With Harry (Part 1) (Exclusive) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Holiday With Harry

Part 1

Victoire flung the wardrobe doors wide, let her dressing gown slip off her shoulders, and peered in, her hands on her hips. She’d already had three piles on the bed … her swimwear, sleepwear, and all the potential pieces that she hadn’t fully decided on. The “potentials” pile was the biggest and included a skirt so short that it was guaranteed to stiffen some cocks.

“Rose, come here and tell me if this is totally insane, or just a little bit insane,” Victoire called out while holding a powder-blue triangle bikini at arm’s length. It was just a few scraps of material held together by thin strings. 

Rose rolled off the bed and looked. She tried for disinterest, failed. “That’s a bit mad,” Rose said through a giggle. She covered a smile with her hand.

“That’s what I thought!” Victoire said triumphantly and tossed the bikini into the suitcase.

Rose looked around at the mess and sighed. She had her bags packed with everything inside perfectly folded. She’d even labeled the compartments in her toiletries kit. She had picked up some of Hermione’s habits over the years. 

“Do you really think Harry won’t tell your mum if we … if you wear that?” Rose said.

Victoire’s eyes flashed. “Harry’s not going to tell her a thing. If he did, he’d be admitting he spent the summer ogling our tits.” She smirked and went back to the wardrobe. “And anyway, we’re both adults now. We can look as slutty as we want.”

Rose blushed. “We?”

“Exactly,” Victoire said. “He’s so stubborn that we’ll both have to work on him.”

The Weasley family was going on holiday for the next two months. It was their longest trip ever, and they asked Harry to pop in once a day just to make sure the girls were doing okay. Victoire and Rose couldn’t go since they both had new jobs and couldn’t get the time off. So, instead of forcing Harry to take the time to come over every day, Victoire suggested that she and Rose should just stay at Harry’s place. Fleur had agreed, and she talked Harry into accepting them. 

Rose hadn’t slept in two days. It wasn’t just the nerves. It was the possibility that this summer might actually be fun. Victoire’s kind of fun, that is, which was a lot more sophisticated than Rose’s usual “read and go to bed by ten” type of fun. 

Victoire laid three bras out on the bedspread. They were scarlet, ivory, and black lace. She picked up the black one, considered it, then tossed it to Rose. “You’re darker than me,” she said. “It’ll contrast too much with my pale skin, but you could pull it off. Try it.”

Rose glanced at the door, and then at Victoire. She then held the bra to her chest. The cups were a little too large. “Here,” Victoire said and flicked her wand. The cups shrank down a size. “That’s much better. You should wear black lace more often. It looks great on you.”

Rose giggled. “I’ve never worn black lace,” she reminded her. 

“Exactly,” Victoire said, with an excited smile. “That’s what summers are for … you know … to get a bit crazy. Besides, I’m sure Harry would enjoy seeing you in it,” Victoire teased, which caused Rose to blush fiercely. 

They packed for another ten minutes, and Victoire packed increasingly sluttier clothes as time went on. Finally, Victoire fell backwards onto her bed, her arms spread. “God, I cannot wait for this,” she said. “Harry’s house is so much nicer than the Burrow. His pool is to die for. Make sure to pack your tiniest bikini. We want to show off for Harry after all.”

Rose pulled out her smallest bikini, and she made a face. “It’s really not that small,” she commented as she examined the two pieces. Victoire smiled cheekily. 

“That’s what Shrinking Charms are for,” she said, and they burst into a giggle fit. 

Holiday With Harry

As soon as they arrived, Harry greeted them on the porch. He was as handsome as always, and he cracked a smile at the sight of them. “You packed for every occasion, I see,” he said, eyeing Victoire’s three suitcases and Rose’s two.

“You should have seen the rejected pile,” Victoire shot back. She planted a kiss on his cheek and dragged her bags inside, immediately calling dibs on the room overlooking the back garden. Rose, trailing behind, just blushed, waved, and tried to avoid doing anything that would make her look silly. 

Harry helped carry their things upstairs. The house was clean and spacious. Rose’s room had an enormous four-poster, already made up with clean white sheets, and a wide window that overlooked the pool. “If you girls need anything, I’ll be in the den,” Harry told them. 

Rose nodded, then set about unpacking and avoiding Victoire’s pile of lacy underwear and pastel nighties, which had already colonized half the closet.

Victoire changed into her bikini before Rose had even found her own. It was the powder-blue triangle one from the night before, but it looked even smaller in the daylight. The bottoms were nothing but two tiny blue triangles and a string, and the fabric so thin it showed off the shape of her taut pussy lips. Victoire tied her ponytail even higher, posed in the mirror, and arched her back. She turned to Rose, who was still fumbling through her suitcase.

“Well?” Victoire asked, her hands on her hips. “What do you think?”

Rose stifled a laugh. “You may get arrested for indecent exposure,” she giggled. 

“Who’s going to arrest me? Harry?” Victoire winked. “Do you think he’ll strip-search me?” They both giggled loudly. 

Rose’s bikini wasn’t as scandalous as Victoire’s, but it showed off way more than she ever had before. She’d shrunken it with a charm last night as a joke, but now, seeing it stretched across her chest, she realized it barely contained her at all. Her nipples threatened to pop out if she moved too quickly.

Victoire clapped. “Perfect!” she cheered. “I told you black was your color.”

Rose cinched a towel around her waist. “I’m not walking through the house like this,” she muttered.

Victoire shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Downstairs, Harry was in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. He looked up as they entered, his eyebrows rising. His eyes lingered on Victoire’s chest before he caught himself and grinned.

“It’s nice to see you’re making yourselves right at home,” he said with a smirk. 

Victoire planted her hands on the kitchen island and leaned forward, intentionally showing off her incredibly perky breasts. “We’re going swimming. Do you want to join us?”

Harry dried his hands and nodded. “I’ll be done in ten minutes, and I’ll meet you out there.” Victoire smiled prettily while Rose’s heart began to hammer in her chest. 

Victoire grabbed Rose’s arm and towed her through the sliding glass door. The pool was Olympic-sized, with a row of submerged tiles forming a ledge along the deep end. The sun was out in force, baking the stone tiles to the point where you would burn your feet if you stayed in one place for too long. Victoire dropped into a deck chair, stretching her legs and basking in the sun. Her pale skin practically glimmered in the intense sunrays. 

Rose lay on her stomach, propped on her elbows, towel firmly in place. She peeked at Victoire, who was already adjusting her bikini top to better display her cleavage.

“I think you might give him a heart attack,” Rose said, half-laughing.

Victoire smiled up at the sky. “I’d settle for him attacking me.”

Rose shook her head and giggled. She liked Harry, and she had had a crush on him for years. Rose obviously knew that Victoire felt the same way, but she also knew Victoire’s idea of “working on him” involved things Rose had only read about in Witch Weekly and never dared try.

Harry emerged, carrying a tray with three tall glasses of lemonade. Ice cubes clinked against the inside of the glass cups as he walked. He set them on a side table, then pulled off his shirt, revealing a lean build with muscles that instantly had the girls drooling. Rose was caught off guard by how muscular he was. She hadn’t seen him shirtless in years. 

“Ladies first,” he said, gesturing to the pool.

Victoire rose and sauntered to the edge of the pool, her wide ass bouncing as she walked. She bent to adjust her thong, likely for Harry’s benefit, then dove in. She gracefully sliced through the water, emerging in the deep end with her hair slicked back and her skimpy top still miraculously clinging to her perfect tits.

Rose stood and nervously removed her towel. She looked at Harry and saw him checking out her soft, smooth body. Rose blushed deeply and inched to the edge. She then slipped in as quietly as possible. The water was so cold her nipples hardened instantly, and the black top felt even tighter. She pushed her hair off her face and tried to look anywhere but at Harry, who was just lowering himself in at the shallow end.

Victoire swam over, splashing Rose as she went. “It’s freezing!” she yelled. Rose giggled as her body slowly acclimated to the water’s temperature. The pool was so clear she could see Victoire’s painted toenails as they kicked beneath the surface.

Harry swam up and leaned against the ledge, his arms resting on the stone. He was tanned from the Quidditch season and had a graceful confidence in the water. Rose caught him watching her and Victoire, but he didn’t say anything about their choice of swimwear.

Victoire, not satisfied with the amount of attention she was receiving, did a dramatic spin in the water, then climbed out and arched her back so her tits pointed at the sky. She twisted her hips and gave Harry a perfect view of her ass, which was basically naked save for the blue string buried deep between her pillowy cheeks. She turned, caught his eye, and grinned.

“What do you think of our new suits, Harry?” Victoire asked, with her chest thrust forward.

Harry looked her up and down. “I think you’ll give the neighbors something to talk about.”

Victoire giggled cutely. “They can’t see a thing unless they’ve got telescopes. Besides, you’re the only one we’re showing off for.”

Rose floated nearby. She almost hoped Harry wouldn’t say anything, despite the fact that she was desperate for his approval. He turned to Rose, who blushed under the scrutiny. “You look great, too,” he said, gentler this time. Victoire shot Rose a look and waggled her eyebrows, as if to say I told you so.

They swam in lazy laps for a while, and Victoire occasionally splashed water at Harry or floated onto her back to sun herself. Even though the water was slowly heating up, Rose was still cold and shivering. “Are you cold?” Harry asked, swimming over to her.

“A bit,” Rose admitted. Her teeth were nearly chattering.

“Here, get on the ledge. The water’s much warmer here, and the sun will warm you up,” he said, pointing to the row of submerged tiles. Rose perched there, the water only up to her waist. Harry sat down next to her. 

Victoire joined them and slid in on Harry’s other side. “I’m still freezing,” she pouted, snuggling into his shoulder. She pressed her body close, letting her breast squash against his arm. She intentionally rubbed her thigh against his. 

“Maybe you should have worn more fabric,” Harry teased, but he didn’t pull away.

Victoire pouted cutely. “Rose, get over here. He’s nice and warm.”

Rose nervously shuffled closer. Victoire grabbed his arm and pulled it across her own shoulders so his hand rested on her far side. She leaned in, her face close to his. Harry wrapped his other arm around Rose.

“That’s much better,” Victoire said. “See? Now we’re all warm.”

Harry looked at Rose, a little amused. “Are you okay?”

Rose nodded, and she could feel how hot her face was. She was acutely aware of the way her top stretched across her chest, the way her cold, hard nipples tented the thin fabric, and the closeness of Harry’s hand, barely a breath away from touching her hip.

Victoire winked at her over Harry’s shoulder, and, for the first time, Rose didn’t want to run away or disappear. She wanted to see what would happen if she pressed even closer, if she let Victoire take the lead, and if she stopped worrying about what would happen and just enjoyed it.

She leaned in and let her body relax against his. Victoire giggled out a happy sound and nudged Harry’s hand a little lower onto her waist. Harry’s fingers squeezed her thick flesh, and Victoire fought back a moan. All she could think about was Harry gripping her fleshy hips as he pounded her wet, waiting pussy from behind. Just thinking about it made her pussy tingle. Victoire shuddered and rubbed her tits harder against his arm. Harry responded by running his hand down her thigh. Victoire smiled. Her plan was working.

Holiday With Harry

After dinner that night, the girls retreated to their rooms. Harry lingered in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, pots, and pans with a few waves of his wand. He then grabbed a rag and wiped down the counter. Through the half-open door, Victoire watched his arms flex as he worked. She stood there for a moment, admiring the view. She then smirked.

Rose, exhausted from her day in the sun, had flopped on her bed and started a new book. Unable to concentrate, she read the same paragraph three times. Her mind kept drifting to Harry. Victoire entered quietly and shut the door.

“Rose,” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

Rose set her book down. “Do you think Harry will let us sleep in tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”

Victoire climbed onto the bed, put her face an inch from Rose’s, and grinned. “He may have no choice.”

Rose closed her eyes and braced for whatever plan was coming. “What are you plotting now?”

Victoire leaned in close, her hair tickling Rose’s cheek. “He’s alone downstairs. I say we go down there and show him what he’s missing.”

Rose opened one eye. “Wearing what? Our pyjamas?”

Victoire rolled off the bed, rummaged through her luggage, and produced two silky pieces of fabric. “These,” she declared, holding up two identical camisole tops, each so sheer it might as well have been made of wet tissue paper, and a pair of matching thongs that wouldn’t hide a damn thing. 

“You can’t be serious?” Rose said. She couldn’t believe Victoire was being so bold. 

Victoire tossed the thong onto Rose’s stomach. “I certainly am.”

Rose picked it up, stretched the waistband between her fingers, and found it had less fabric than an eyepatch. “You’re evil,” she whispered, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her full, pink lips. 

“Come on. It’s only polite to dress up for our host.” Victoire had already pulled her shirt over her head. Her nipples were already stiff with anticipation. She shimmied out of her shorts and panties and stood totally bare. She slid her arms into the cami and pulled it on. It clung to her like a second skin and did nothing to hide the hard nipples underneath. She spun for Rose. “What do you think?”

Rose squirmed on the bed, but she couldn’t stop grinning. “You look like you should be on the cover of Witch Weekly.” She stared a little too long. Victoire took the opportunity to lean forward and give her a view of her deep cleavage before stepping back. Victoire then stepped into her thong and pulled it up her legs. The tiny triangle in the front showed off more than half of her smooth, hairless mound. 

“Your turn,” Victoire said. She placed the second camisole on the bed and then peeled off Rose’s sleep shirt. Rose’s nipples were as hard as pebbles. Victoire helped slide the cami down over Rose’s breasts, smoothed the fabric with her palms, and then reached for the thong. “Lift up.”

Rose hesitated, but Victoire’s energy was contagious. She pulled down her knickers, then slipped the thong up her thighs, watching as the fabric disappeared between her soft pink pussy lips. Victoire adjusted it, making sure the string nestled in exactly the right place. Rose pulled a pillow over her face and giggled. “If my mum could see me now,” she muttered, but she was glowing.

Victoire opened the bedroom door, peeked into the hall, and signaled Rose to follow. The pair of them padded quietly down the stairs, the cami straps barely staying on their shoulders. At the bottom, they could see the flickering orange glow from the fireplace. Harry was sitting on the couch with one leg up on the coffee table and a thick book in his lap.

Victoire tiptoed behind him and put her hands over his eyes. “Guess who,” she whispered into his ear.

Harry nearly dropped his book, but he caught it before it could fall. “Let’s see … I think it’s that troublemaker who tried to smuggle Firewhiskey into her sixth-year dorm.”

Victoire released his eyes and sat beside him, tucking her legs up under her. “You remember that?”

“I remember your mother yelling about how she raised a no-good, troublemaking daughter,” Harry replied, which made Rose giggle madly. 

“Well … I’m an adult now, so that means no more getting yelled at by her,” Victoire happily stated. Harry chuckled and shook his head. 

“Good luck with that,” he smugly said. 

Harry looked at her, and then at Rose, who hovered at the edge of the rug with her arms crossed over her chest. The firelight was bright enough to make her cami almost transparent. “That’s … quite an outfit,” he said, unapologetically checking out their bodies.

Victoire patted the couch. “Come on, Rose. Don’t be shy.”

Rose sat down, carefully keeping her thighs together. Her face was flushed, but she didn’t seem embarrassed. It was more like she was waiting to see what would happen next. Victoire curled up on Harry’s right, and Rose pressed in on his left. Harry closed his book, set it aside, and cleared his throat. “So, what are the two of you up to?”

Victoire leaned her head on his shoulder, and her hair tickled his neck. “We got lonely upstairs,” she said with a pout.

Rose nodded, trying to sound playful but mostly sounding nervous. “It’s scary up there all alone.”

Harry laughed softly. “You’re both incorrigible.”

Victoire shifted her legs and planted her feet right in Harry’s lap. “I am a bit of a tease,” she giggled, wiggling her toes against his stomach.

Harry looked down at her feet, then at the length of her legs. His gaze tracked from her ankles to her thighs, then to the place where the thong disappeared under the camisole. He swallowed hard.

Rose’s thigh pressed against Harry’s. Her skin was warm even through the thin material. She saw him staring at Victoire and, for once, didn’t shy away. Instead, she shifted closer, her thigh pressing harder into his side.

The room went quiet except for the crackling fire. Victoire ran her fingers up Harry’s arm, caressing slowly toward his shoulder. “We missed you during the swim,” she purred.

“Someone had to go and make you two hooligans some lunch,” Harry said teasingly. His hand settled on Victoire’s shin. She arched her back, pushing her tits harder against the camisole. Her nipples poked through the fabric and were clearly visible in the firelight.

“But you took so long to come back,” Rose replied, doing her best to tease him back. “You must have hated our suits.”

Harry blinked at her. “Hated? You two nearly gave me a stroke.”

Victoire smirked and hooked her arm through his. “Maybe we can do even better tonight.” Her toes kneaded Harry’s stomach as she pressed herself against his side, practically purring.

Harry glanced at Rose. She sat with her knees pressed together and her hands folded in her lap, but her face gave her away. She was practically trembling with anticipation. Her cami had ridden up just enough to show the dark line of her thong at her hips. Harry reached over and rested his hand on her knee. “Are you cold?” he asked softly, already knowing it wasn’t the chill that was making her tremble. 

Rose shook her head. “It’s just … I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Victoire rolled her eyes. “She’s so innocent. Isn’t it cute?”

Harry squeezed her knee, then slid his hand higher up her thigh. “It’s very cute,” he agreed. Rose shivered from the touch.

Victoire grabbed Harry’s hand and placed it on her thigh. Her skin was warm and smooth, and his fingers sank into the soft flesh. She shifted to straddle his lap, her thong and camisole riding up high on her hips. “She might act innocent …” Victoire said. “... but she’s dying to learn how to be naughty.” She shot Rose a wicked grin.

Rose stared wide-eyed, then leaned in and kissed Harry on the cheek. She glanced at Victoire, who nodded enthusiastically. Harry’s hand tightened on Victoire’s thigh as he turned to Rose. Her hair fell over one eye, and her lips were parted. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Rose bit her lip, nodded, and leaned in again. This time she kissed him full on the mouth, her tongue sliding tentatively against his. Her whole body trembled.

Victoire, not about to be outdone, kissed down Harry’s neck and nipped at his collarbone. She made sure to rub her tits against his arm. She ground her hips against his thigh, and her thong was already soaked through.

Harry felt dazed as both girls pressed against him, their bodies soft and hot, and it was almost too much. He slid his hands up Victoire’s thighs to her hips, and down the backs of Rose’s legs. Rose got bolder first. She grabbed Harry’s hand and guided it under her cami, pressing it flat against her bare stomach. She let out a shaky breath. “You can touch me,” she whispered.

Harry slid his hand higher, caressing the curve of her waist before cupping her naked breast. Her nipple was rock-hard and poking into his palm. Rose let out a tiny, involuntary moan, arched her back, and pushed her breast harder into his hand. 

Victoire grinned as she watched. She yanked her cami up and over her head and flung it onto the rug. Her pale, perfect tits bounced free, and her nipples were stiff and crinkled. She grabbed Harry’s other hand and pressed it to her breast. “You can touch me too,” she said, her voice husky. Harry squeezed her breast and pinched her nipple as she rolled her hips into his lap.

Rose, emboldened by Victoire’s courage, removed her own top. Her skin was a shade darker than Victoire’s, and her nipples were a little bit pinker. Harry stroked her naked breast, using his thumb to circle the crinkled tip. Rose whimpered and pressed against his hand, and her thong wetly clung to her quivering pussy lips.

Victoire pulled Harry’s shirt off, grabbed Rose’s hand, and pressed it to his chest. Rose stroked his hot skin, trembling with desire. She excitedly played with his muscles while she stared down at his crotch. She looked up at him. “Can I …?”

He nodded, and she slid her hand under the waistband of his sweatpants and found his hard, throbbing cock. She gasped at the size of it. Her fingertips couldn’t even touch when her hand was wrapped around his girth. Victoire giggled and kissed Rose on the cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” Victoire said through her giggles.

Rose shyly stroked him before growing bolder. Harry’s breathing went ragged, and he grabbed Victoire’s ass, pulling her close. She ground her pussy against his thigh, and her thong so wet it left a large wet spot on the fabric of his sweatpants. 

Harry slipped his hand between Victoire’s legs and felt the heat radiating from her pussy. He stroked her through the thin fabric, exploring the outline of her taut lips, and then found the tiny bump where he knew her clit was. He added pressure and rubbed it agonizingly slow. 

Victoire bit her lip and rode his hand, moaning. “Please, faster,” she huskily begged. She reached down and yanked her thong aside so he could touch her directly. He slipped his fingers inside her, and Victoire cried out as her wet, silky walls clutched his digit. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” she gasped.

Rose spread her thighs. “Me too,” she said, her voice almost pleading.

Harry shifted so that Rose could follow Victoire’s lead. Rose was suddenly straddling his left leg and Victoire his right. He slid his hand between Rose’s thighs, and her black thong was already soaked. He stroked her pussy lips through the fabric, feeling how hot and wet she was, and Rose bucked against his fingers.

The room was suddenly filled with the sounds of two girls gasping for breath. Harry worked Rose’s pussy through her thong, and his fingers became damp and slick. She ground against his hand, and her face was flushed, and her eyes were fluttering. 

Victoire kissed Harry hard and slid her tongue into his mouth. She grabbed his other hand and held it hard against her pussy as she bounced her hips and rode his finger. He alternated between them, rubbing both their pussies in a perfect rhythm.

Rose, who was already worked up, couldn’t hold out. She thrust her hips hard against Harry’s hand, the pressure wedging the fabric tight between her swollen lips. Harry rubbed her faster, working her throbbing clit with two fingers, and her entire body went rigid. She bit down on his shoulder to muffle a scream, but a desperate whimper escaped anyway.

She came hard and fast, shuddering as her thighs clamped tight around Harry’s hand. When it subsided, she slumped forward and buried her face in his neck. Her chest was heaving. 

Victoire burst into giggles. “Did you just …?”

Rose dazily nodded and giggled. “You said to get crazy.”

Victoire giggled even harder. She straddled Harry’s lap, pressed her tits to his chest, and kissed him so hard she practically sucked the breath from his lungs. “We’re not even close to crazy,” Victoire said, and reached down to guide Harry’s fingers back to her pussy.

Rose curled up on Harry’s other side, her hand low on his stomach. She watched Victoire ride his fingers, grinding her hips in desperate, hungry circles. The firelight made Victoire’s pale skin look even sexier. She tossed her blonde hair back, moaned, and pressed down harder, rubbing her clit against his hand.

Rose slid her hand under her thong, and her fingers were still shaking. She was wet and swollen, and she played with her clit while watching Victoire grind and moan.

Harry stroked Victoire’s breast with one hand, fingered her with the other, and pressed his thigh between Rose’s legs, letting her grind against him. All three writhed together, and Rose came again while staring at Victoire’s beautiful face. Victoire followed a moment later, her cries muffled against Harry’s chest.

When it was over, the girls collapsed in a heap, giggling and gasping for breath. Rose rested her head on Harry’s shoulder, and Victoire draped herself over both of them. “I didn’t think you had it in you,” Victoire said to Rose.

Rose wore a satisfied smile. “Neither did I.”

Harry was still playing with their bodies when Victoire kissed him again. “Enough with the teasing. Take us upstairs, Harry,” she breathlessly demanded. Harry knew exactly what she wanted, and he was more than happy to give it to them. 

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