Red Light District (Ch. 48) (Patreon)

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

Red Light District 

Chapter 48

Fleur was giddy and a little nervous. She smoothed the front of her white lace camisole and stared at the last stack of folded clothes on her dresser. The bedroom was bigger than her room at Beauxbatons, and it made her a little sad that she would probably never see her Beauxbatons room again. The walls were painted blue, and a collection of photos covered every available surface. Her old trunk was propped open on the bed, and it was stuffed with carefully packed robes, high heels, and a small army of lingerie sets. She had spent the entire morning folding, packing, and triple-checking her list.

She wasn’t sad that she was leaving France. She wanted to be in England, in Diagon Alley, in Harry’s arms. Every time she thought about living with him, her heartbeat jumped, and a fluttery sensation ran through her belly. She would no longer be just the Veela guest. She would be the one with her own bedroom, her own bed, and her own boyfriend. Fleur smiled to herself, then blushed as she wondered if he would even let her sleep in her own bed. She knew he was waiting for her so he could transport her stuff to England. Fleur moved a little faster. 

She shut her trunk and charmed it to float beside her, then slipped into the hall. Her small, dainty feet silently padded over the polished wood. Fleur walked through the hallway, listening for the sound of Harry’s voice. She was about to call out his name when she heard a familiar, throaty giggle.

She stopped at the stairwell landing, cocked her head, and listened again. There was a loud, shuddering gasp, a quick intake of breath, then a squeal, followed by a thud and more giggling. Fleur tiptoed to the edge and peered over the banister. Down below, in the main sitting room, she saw the top of Harry’s head. His raven hair was even messier than usual. He was sitting on the plush white couch with Apolline curled up on his lap.

Apolline was wearing a thin summer dress and nothing else. The fabric was bunched up around her waist, and her bare legs were draped over Harry’s thighs. Both her arms were around his neck. Harry had his hand jammed up under her dress, and his palm was squeezing and kneading Apolline’s large, braless tits. He had her pinned in place, and she was moaning into his mouth like a woman half her age.

Fleur rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the little heat that blossomed between her legs. She crossed her arms under her own chest and waited for them to notice her. They didn’t. Harry kissed Apolline like he was starving for love and attention. He tugged down the front of her dress, exposing both of her breasts. He groped one and latched his lips onto the other, sucking the stiff pink nipple between his teeth. Apolline let out a long, satisfied moan and arched her back so that her tit pressed deeper into Harry’s mouth.

“You are such a bad boy, ‘Arry,” Apolline gasped, then melted into a fit of giggles as he rolled her nipple between his fingers.

Harry growled and gave her a playful bite. “You said you wanted to say goodbye before we left,” he replied. His voice was muffled against her chest.

Apolline twisted her fingers in his hair and pressed his face tighter to her cleavage. “I did not mean you could eat me alive,” she teased, and then she let out another happy squeal as Harry flicked his tongue over her nipple.

Fleur let them go on for another few seconds. Then, she stomped down the first two steps, making the trunk bump and thump behind her. She planted her feet, put her hands on her wide hips, and cleared her throat with an unmistakable French flair.

Apolline froze, and her eyes went wide, but the cheeky smile didn’t leave her lips. “Oh, bonjour, ma chérie,” she called out. She didn’t bother to cover herself, even as Harry kept kneading her breast and licking the tip of her nipple.

Fleur raised an eyebrow. “Are you finished, or should I leave you two alone?”

Harry finally looked up. His lips were red and glossy, and he wore the faintest smirk. “You’re back,” he said, as if nothing was amiss.

Apolline winked at Fleur, then ruffled Harry’s hair. “We were just saying goodbye,” she mischievously explained. “It is my duty to make sure your boyfriend is properly taken care of.”

Harry grinned and licked her nipple again. “She takes her job very seriously,” he said, and he tweaked her other nipple for good measure. Apolline gasped and batted at his hand, but she didn’t try hard to escape … especially when Harry’s hand dipped between her legs, and his fingers began caressing her wet, naked pussy. 

Fleur huffed and marched down the stairs. Her hips swayed with every step, and the hem of her short dress bounced around her thighs. She stopped in front of the couch and glared at them both. “You are coming to visit next week, maman. ‘Arry is not going off to war. You do not need to drain ‘im dry every time you see ‘im.”

Apolline sighed and slipped a hand down to cup Harry’s cheek. “But what if ‘e misses me?”

“ ‘e will survive,” Fleur said, but her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “You can write ‘im a letter if you miss ‘im so much.”

Apolline fluttered her eyes and pulled Harry’s face back to her chest. “ ‘e is very sweet, Fleur. You are lucky to have ‘im.” She caressed Harry’s jaw, then guided his mouth back to her breast. He kissed it obediently, making Apolline shiver.

Fleur waited. “Do you want to say goodbye to my tits as well, ‘Arry?” she asked, annoyed at being ignored. Apolline laughed and wiggled her ass in Harry’s lap.

Harry looked up, and his green eyes were smoldering. “I was hoping for a proper send-off, actually.”

Fleur tried to glare at him, but she just shook her head and smiled. “You are both so annoying.” She dropped her trunk to the floor a little harder than intended, then bent at the waist to make sure the lock didn’t come unlatched. Her ass stuck out, and her dress rode up, baring her thighs and the smooth curve of her bare bottom. She could feel Harry’s eyes on her ass, and she heard Apolline let out a little hum of approval.

“Very nice. You’ve been keeping up with your good diet and training, I see,” Apolline said with a knowing grin.

Fleur straightened up and gave her a peck on the cheek. She then leaned in and gave Harry a quick, steamy kiss. His lips were warm and smelled faintly of Apolline’s perfume. Fleur gripped his hair and nipped his lower lip before pulling away. “We need to go, or the Portkey will go off without us,” she said.

Apolline gave Harry’s cock a gentle squeeze through his trousers, then patted his cheek. “Take care of my ‘er, ‘Arry,” she told him. She stood up, shook out her silvery hair, and adjusted the top of her dress. Her tits jiggled, and she made no effort to hide her nipples, which were still stiff from Harry’s loving attention.

Harry gave Apolline one last, slow kiss, then got up from the couch and laced his fingers through Fleur’s. Fleur pulled him in close and towed him upstairs to help with her trunk.

As they reached the landing, Fleur glanced back and saw Apolline watching them from below. She wore a smug, satisfied smile. “ ‘ave fun, you two,” Apolline called after them.

Fleur shot her a look and then whispered to Harry, “I swear, sometimes I think you are more trouble than you are worth.”

Harry smiled and leaned in to kiss her neck. Fleur shivered, then hooked her arm through his and led him toward her bedroom.

Red Light District

It was raining in Diagon Alley, and the drizzle left every street wet and slippery and left puddles on every doorstep. Fleur didn’t care, though. She clutched Harry’s hand and stared up in awe at the biggest, grandest building on the whole street. The former hotel was impossible to miss. It was five full stories of Romanesque splendor. Its facade gleamed white even in the gray daylight. Tall, smooth columns lined the front entrance, and a set of carved marble steps swept up from the busy cobblestones to a set of enormous iron doors. The sign above was modest, but the building itself radiated importance.

Fleur’s heart hammered as she squeezed Harry’s hand. She was dressed to impress, in a blue minidress and matching stilettos, but she felt tiny next to the grand entrance. She felt even tinier when she saw the huge doorman guarding the entrance. 

Harry steered her past the main entrance and down a little alley to a private door. It was painted black, with a set of heavy brass handles. He opened it for her, ushering her into a dim, paneled hallway with plush navy carpet. The air was warm and scented with fresh flowers. At the far end was a sleek, modern lift. It was something she had never seen in a magical building.

Harry thumbed a button, and the doors opened silently. Inside, everything gleamed in gold and glass, and there were mirrors on every wall. Fleur caught her reflection, smoothed her hair, then smiled at Harry as he pressed the “P” for penthouse. The doors slid shut, and they rushed upward so quickly that Fleur had to grab Harry’s arm to stay upright. She squealed and buried her face in his shoulder.

Harry just laughed. “It’s fast, huh?”

“Much faster than the stairs at Beauxbatons, that’s for sure,” she admitted, then playfully bit his shoulder to tease him.

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened into a sunlit foyer with white marble floors. Two tall vases of hydrangeas framed the entrance. Beyond them was a living room twice the size of her parents’ house. Floor-to-ceiling windows ringed the entire space, and every inch of the penthouse was lit with natural light. The walls were pale and soothing. The furniture was elegant, but there were little cozy touches everywhere. She particularly liked the throw rugs spread here and there. 

Fleur could barely believe her luck. She wandered in and trailed her hand over the back of the couch. Her heels clicked loudly on the polished stone. There was a sleek and modern fireplace, and judging by the bowl of green powder on the mantel, Fleur guessed correctly that it was already connected to the Floo Network. The kitchen was tucked into a corner, and an open hallway led off to the bedrooms.

She spun around with wide, excited eyes. “Mon Dieu!” she gasped, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “It is … it is beautiful, ‘Arry!”

Harry smiled, pleased that she was happy. “I’m glad you like it. You can change anything you want.”

She floated toward the window, touched the cold glass, and watched the Red Light District below. “You made all of this for us?”

Harry shrugged. “I figured you’d want something better than a tiny flat above the club. Hermione helped with the decorating.” He leaned in and quietly teased her. “You should see the bedroom. The bed is very big and bouncy.”

Fleur let out a giddy laugh, then pounced on Harry and kissed him hard. He lifted her off her feet and spun her in a circle, making her giggle helplessly. For a moment, she didn’t care about anything except the way his hands gripped her ass, or the way his mouth tasted, or the way her body tingled with excitement.

A loud “Eeeek!” echoed from the hallway, and a blur of chestnut hair and bare skin shot out from one of the bedrooms. Hermione appeared at full speed, then skidded to a halt on the slick marble. She wore nothing but a pair of tiny white panties and a set of strappy, bright white heels. Her perky tits bounced with every hurried step, and her eyes were as round as saucers.

She spotted Harry and Fleur, and she smiled happily. “You’re here!” Hermione rushed over, completely unconcerned by her state of undress. She threw her arms around Fleur and squeezed her tight. Fleur could feel the warmth of Hermione’s bare skin.

“You look amazing,” Hermione said, then she stepped back and eyed Fleur’s minidress. “That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You are the sexiest thing I ‘ave ever seen,” Fleur replied with a giggle, and she pinched Hermione’s nipple.

Hermione squealed and batted at Fleur’s hand, then turned to Harry, hands on her hips. “So, she likes your new place, huh?”

Harry just stared, unable to stop himself from grinning. “It sounds like it. You look incredible, by the way.”

Hermione glanced down at her own body and laughed. “Oh! Oops. I was changing and didn’t know you’d get here so fast.” She didn’t bother to cover herself. “I guess I should give you the tour?”

Fleur grabbed Hermione’s hand and dragged her down the hallway. “Show me everything!” she demanded.

Hermione led them at a run, giggling, and her breasts jiggled and bounced with every step. The first bedroom was painted a soft blue, and it was filled with sunlight. The bed was enormous, and it was covered with a thick white duvet. Fleur dove onto it and rolled around, burying her face in the pillows. She then flopped onto her back and stretched her arms overhead. She felt completely at home.

Hermione bounced down onto the bed next to her, then hugged Fleur. Fleur giggled and hugged Hermione right back. Harry leaned against the doorway, watching the two of them roll around together. Harry just stood there for a moment, enjoying the view. 

He cleared his throat. “Is there room for me, or am I sleeping on the sofa?”

Hermione shot him a playful look, then wiggled her bare ass at him. “Only if you’re very, very naughty,” she said, and the two girls started giggling even harder. Harry was too busy stripping down to reply. 

Red Light District

Harry walked through the building with his hands shoved in his pockets, watching the Goblin scrawl notes on a thick clipboard. The ground floor was a mess. There were piles of dust, exposed copper pipes, and a pair of construction wizards arguing over whether the ceiling needed a double layer of soundproofing. The Goblin barely noticed the chaos. He walked with brisk, even strides, concentrating on the task at hand. 

Harry waved his arm around the cavernous space. “This entire floor is going to be a strip club. I want two stages … one there, and one there.” He pointed to the left and right corners. “The bar goes straight back against the wall, and I want a proper DJ booth on the mezzanine, not that joke of a cubicle the last architect drew up.”

The Goblin scribbled furiously, and his beady little eyes darted to the places Harry indicated. “Dressing rooms?” he asked.

“Put them in the big room behind the bar,” Harry said. “But add a side corridor leading directly to the main hall, so the girls can come out wherever they want.”

The Goblin nodded, flipping a page. “VIP rooms?”

“I want ten of them. Make sure they’re double-soundproofed, with their own access to the bar and kitchen.” Harry grinned. “If we do it right, people will pay a fortune for an hour in those rooms.”

The Goblin didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “What about security?” he asked.

“Hidden, but everywhere,” Harry replied. “If you need to bring in a goblin crew to do it, I don’t care. Just make sure nobody can get a wand past the entry without us knowing.”

The Goblin grunted. “What about the second story?”

Harry led him to the stairs. “The second floor is the brothel,” he said. “But I don’t want that cheap Knockturn Alley nonsense. I want it to look like a palace, with private suites, king-sized beds, and the finest linens. I want real luxury.”

The Goblin’s quill paused for a moment. “You want to make it look like a palace?”

Harry grinned. “I want the richest bastard in England to walk in here and feel like he’s not good enough for it.”

The Goblin made another note. “And the girls?”

Harry shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about those. I’ve got that taken care of.”

The Goblin’s yellow eyes narrowed with admiration. “You know, Potter, I wasn’t sure about working with a wizard, but you’ve got good instincts for business.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied, feeling slightly smug.

They walked through the unfinished suites. Sunlight streamed through the open windows, illuminating the bare plaster and the buckets of paint scattered across the floors. In the center of the largest suite, a wizard in overalls was spackling the wall while humming to himself. Harry pictured what it would look like in a few months.

He turned to the Goblin. “You’ll have blueprints ready by next week?”

The Goblin tapped his quill against the clipboard. “I’ll have a full set of plans for your approval by Friday. After approval, we’ll get right to work. We’ll be done in time for your grand opening next year.” He tucked the clipboard under his arm and extended a short, sturdy hand.

Harry shook it. The Goblin’s grip was stronger than expected. “Thanks, Gornuk.”

“Pleasure,” the Goblin said, and then he stalked off, barking instructions at a pair of terrified construction wizards as he went.

Harry lingered for a while, listening to the echo of voices and the faint clink of tools. He walked over to a dusty window, gazed out over Diagon Alley, and smiled. His plan was finally coming together. He couldn’t wait to see it finished.

Red Light District

Harry spent his afternoon in his penthouse while Fleur and Hermione were out for the day, exploring the magical shops and boutiques or, more likely, drinking coffee and gossiping about his increasingly ridiculous schedule. He envied them a little, but not too much … not when he had an afternoon like this to himself.

The photography room was one of his favorite indulgences. The space was cavernous, and the walls and floor had been enchanted to shift on command. With a flick of his wand, he could conjure a thick velvet curtain, a sun-drenched beach, or a classic Hogwarts dormitory. He could change the light to any hue or intensity, but for this shoot, he’d gone for something simple. It was a simple room with a king-sized bed.

Amelia Bones was spread across the bed with her back arched, her knees slightly bent, and her thick brown hair fanned out on the pillows. Amelia had a body built for power and pleasure, with wide hips, strong thighs, and a pair of breasts so large that it seemed a crime to restrain them in a bra. She had agreed to this shoot after Susan convinced her. Both women were going on holiday, and they needed a bit more gold. Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t producing any more chocolate frog cards until the summer ended, so Susan had no way to earn any extra gold. Harry was, however, doing some photoshoots for his upcoming magazine, and Amelia had the perfect body to model. 

Harry was completely naked with his camera in hand, which he wielded like a true professional. He worked quickly, moving around the bed. He sometimes knelt and sometimes lay on the floor to get the right angle. He captured Amelia’s body as she shifted in the silky sheets. Her skin looked silky smooth, and her nipples were stiffened into crinkled peaks. 

“Shake your chest,” he instructed, and Amelia rolled her eyes but did it anyway. She sat up and made her breasts bounce. They jiggled gently at first, but then she shook them with more force, until they slapped softly against her ribcage. Harry couldn’t help but stare, and more than once, his cock throbbed at the sight of her. Amelia noticed and grinned wickedly.

“You’re supposed to act like a professional, Harry,” she teased, but her cheeks were flushed and her breath was a little shallow now. She liked being watched, and Harry liked watching her.

“It’s not a crime to enjoy your work,” he wisely stated, and he made no move to hide his arousal.

“Do you want me to do anything else?” she asked, still bouncing her tits for his enjoyment.

Harry lowered the camera for a moment and approached the bed. “Take off your panties,” he told her. Amelia hesitated, then propped herself up on her elbows and looked him dead in the eye.

“Do you want me to take them off, or do you want to take them off me yourself?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Harry chuckled. “You do it, but do it slowly so I can get some good pictures.”

She nodded and ran her hands down her belly, and her fingers lingered on her soft flesh. She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her black panties and then paused. Harry started snapping pictures again, capturing every frame of the slow reveal.

Amelia pulled her knees together, then drew them up toward her chest, so the curve of her ass and the backs of her thighs were the first thing to show as she tipped her hips forward. She wiggled a little, pulling the fabric into the crease, and then peeled the panties up until they were stretched tight between her thighs. Her pussy was just barely hidden, and Harry could see the plump outline of her pussy lips and the dark shadow of her slit through the fabric. He took picture after picture as she pressed her knees together and used both hands to tug at the elastic. Her panties moved up her thighs until they snapped off her ankles.

Her pussy was now bare, and Harry felt his cock jerk again as he watched her. Amelia held the pose. She lay back on the sheets with her legs together and her pussy perfectly framed by her thighs. She reached down and ran her hand over her mound, then parted her lips just enough to reveal a tight, puffy slit and a flash of pink. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He circled the bed with his camera in hand, snapping photos from every angle. “Your lips are so smooth,” he said, voice tight with arousal. “They look so soft, and they’re so swollen. You can see the shape even with your knees together.”

Amelia purred at the praise and reached down to touch herself. She grazed her fingers over the outer lips, then used two fingers to gently spread them apart. “Do you want a close-up?” she asked him.

Harry nodded, and she let her legs fall open, exposing everything. Her pussy was shaved smooth, with the outer lips tight and puffy around the slit. The glossy pink inner lips peeked out, and the hood of her clit was swollen and ready to be sucked. Harry dropped to his knees and leaned in with the camera, focusing on every detail. He took a dozen shots, then set the camera aside and just looked at her.

“You look amazing,” he said, caressing her inner thigh. 

Amelia shifted her body and spread her feet wider on the bed. She dipped a finger into her slit, pushing gently, and then ran it up and down the seam. She was already wet, and as she pressed her lips together, her pussy bulged a little. The delicate flesh looked slick and shiny in the light.

“Describe it for me,” she said in a breathless voice. “I want to know what you see.” This naughty stuff was really turning her on. 

Harry reached out, ran his thumb along the edge of her folds, and smiled. “It’s perfect,” he said. “It’s tight and puffy, and your lips are as smooth as silk. There’s not a mark or a bump anywhere. It’s almost like it was sealed up, except for the tiniest line. If you didn’t spread them, I might think you didn’t even have a pussy.”

Amelia laughed, then moaned as he moved his thumb up to her clit. He pressed against the hood and watched her squirm. Then he gently flicked it. She arched her back, and her tits shook again. “Can you photograph it like that?” she asked. “With your thumb holding it open?”

Harry did as requested, and he used one hand to part her lips and the other to work the camera. He took many pictures, and each one was more explicit than the last. He angled her hips to get the light just right, then snapped close-ups of her clit, her opening, and even the faint blush of her inner lips.

Amelia grew wetter with each picture, and soon, her pussy was glistening with wetness. Harry couldn’t help but touch her, and she helped him by guiding his fingers with her own.

“Tell me what you see now,” she said.

Harry leaned in, and his breath was hot against her skin. “It’s so tight I don’t know how anything fits inside. And it’s so puffy it looks like you’re trying to push it out at me.”

She bit her lip and moaned. Harry got the sense that she was close to cumming already, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. He made her hold the pose with her legs open and pussy exposed while he finished the last roll of film. By the time he was done, his cock was throbbing painfully. 

He lowered the camera and looked her in the eye. “You’re incredible,” he said. “Do you want to see?”

She nodded, so Harry conjured a mirror and angled it so she could see herself spread open with her pussy gleaming and perfect. Amelia blushed, but she couldn’t look away from her own reflection.

Harry set the camera aside, crawled up onto the bed, and kissed her softly on the mouth. She kissed him back, and the kiss was harder and more needy than he expected. Amelia must have really been worked up. Her hands found his cock, and she stroked it hard before guiding him between her legs. Judging by the way she was looking at him, Harry knew he was in for one hell of an afternoon.