Chapter 8: The Butterfly Effect
Three weeks. It had been three weeks since he got laid. He was frustrated.
That was an understatement.
He could go see Cho.
Would she even open the door? Probably not.
He rubbed himself.
Fuck! What would be the point if he couldn't even get it up?
Harry jerked harder.
What was wrong with him?
He didn't want to fuck...well, yes he wanted to fuck, but he didn't want to fuck.
That didn't even make sense to himself.
Harry looked down at his crotch.
You're so lame.
He needed a drink. Yes, he still drank. Not as much as he used to, but he hadn't entirely quit.
Wouldn't do any harm to go out.
Yes, if he drank in public, then he couldn't get wasted and do something stupid.
Okay. Let's go out. No one has seen you in a while. Let's grace the fuckers with our presence.
Am I trying to convince myself?
I shouldn't be hiding. I'm Harry-fucking-Potter.
The Leaky Cauldron was too public.
I don't want that much attention.
I could go into London.
Can you imagine the field day The Prophet would have with that?
Okay, The Hopping Pot then.
...
Ugh...The Hopping Pot? More like the Stinking Pot.
It was dead. There were, maybe 15 people here.
Ick. Is this where the ugly people hung out? Well, I'm already here.
"Triple shot of fire whiskey." He waved off the waitress. "You know what-, just bring me the bottle."
She was okay looking; adequate breasts, flat tummy, firm ass.
She'll look better after a few drinks.
She returned with a bottle. "Do I know you? You look familiar."
He shook his head. "I don't think so."
"It'll come to me." She walked away.
He grabbed the bottle.
To my health.
...
"Hey mister." She shouted at him. "We close in ten minutes."
Harry nodded. He was drunk again; two bottles in and feeling good.
"You wanna even out your tab?"
He looked around; the bar was empty; everyone had eventually stumbled their way out.
"How about I pay you in dick?"
She frowned. "Sorry?"
"I said, how about I fuck you until you can't walk?"
"Not interested."
"Really? Don't you know who I am?"
"I don't care if you're Voldemort. Pay up."
He laughed stepping out of the dark. "Would you care, if I was Harry Potter?"
She screeched. "Oh my God. Mr. Potter. I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you."
Harry smirked. "How much?"
"On the house, of course." She giggled.
Harry caressed her arm. "I couldn't possibly. ..surely there is something I could do for you."
/
She was bent over the bar, as the savior of the world, pounded mercilessly into her. Her skirt had been flipped up, her breasts rubbed deliciously against the wooden counter.
He held onto her waistband, pulling and pushing her roughly into his thrusts.
Shit, it felt good to fuck again.
"Oh Merlin. You're so big. Fuck me Harry Potter."
"Shut up." He grabbed her small breasts and squeezed. Her small mounds fit perfectly in his hands. Harry squeezed harder, pulling her nipples through his fingers.
"Mmmm. Ohhh.. Yes. Harry Potter is fucking me so hard."
Harry wrapped his fingers around her neck. "Shut up and open your legs."
"Ohh. Ohhh. Yes. Harry Potter."
Stupid whore. Why did she keep saying his name?
He tightened his grip on her neck, squeezing harder.
"I can't breathe."
"Sluts don't need to breathe." He slapped her ass hard.
"Oh Harry Potter. You're so good. So big."
She was just another whore. She just wanted to tell all her friends that she fucked Harry Potter.
He slapped her ass again, hard, leaving a hand print.
...
"Ow it hurts."
They'd been fucking for 15 mins and she was drying out.
"Don't you want it? Don't you want me?" He pushed one of her legs up onto a bar stool. "Open your fucking legs."
Harry grabbed her hair, thrusting against her body's resistance. She whimpered. "Too hard. You're hurting me."
"You love it. You love my big dick." He bit her shoulders.
"Ow. Please. It hurts."
"Don't you want a good story, for your friends?" He pinched her clit.
"Please, slow down."
"Shut up or I'll put it in your ass."
She whimpered again. "No. Just cum. Please cum."
He flipped her, setting her on the stool and throwing her legs over his shoulders. Her back arched painfully against the bar.
He continued to fuck her. Her head banged against the counter. She moaned in protest. "Oh. Oh. Harry. It hurts."
Harry's frustration was climbing. "Stupid slut. Squeeze my dick."
She squeezed against him. He ripped through her tightness. She held onto the stool as it creaked and wobbled. "Cum. Oh Gods, cum. I can't take anymore."
He snarled. "Your pussy is so loose. How many dicks have you taken tonight?"
She bit back a tear. "None. You're just too rough. I can't."
"Lies." He roared. "You'd fuck anyone who walks in here."
She pushed him away. "Fuck you!" She stood and pushed her skirt back down. "Just because you can't cum, doesn't make me a whore."
He stared at her, breasts hanging out of her shirt, dry juice streaking her thighs. "If it looks like a duck-"
SLAP!
"I don't care who you are, get out. And don't come back."
Harry tucked himself back into his pants and strolled out of the bar. Bitch was batty.
