Day 30: doing something hot and whatever pleases you
Oliver flew in a loop-the-loop, his forearms flexing with the effort to hold on tight. His hands were sweaty and his dick was throbbing, but he had to finish this flight off with a bang. He clenched his fingers around the broom, panting loudly as the wind rushed through his hair.
"Keep going, Oliver, you're almost there," Hermione whispered in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her hair tied in a tight bun, and she held his cock in her hand. She gave it a swift tug, and Oliver almost tumbled off his broom. She laughed breathlessly, her eyes shining with mischief. "Don't stop, remember."
Oliver gritted his teeth and wrapped his arm tighter around her torso, keeping her flush against his body. Her elbow bumped into the corner of his ribs, but he didn't care. He needed her close, he needed more.
"Do you like how dangerous this is, Oli?" Hermione murmured against his throat. She gingerly licked the sweaty column of his neck, and Oliver's hands slipped for a second. The broom jerked under them, and Hermione laughed as she bounced onto his lap. "Oh, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
"Unfortunately not," Oli muttered. He didn't know how he had even talked his girlfriend into doing this with him (Hermione had been absolutely terrified of flying on a broom when she was younger), but now that he had, he fully regretted it. He had thought it would be fun, the adrenaline rushing through his veins while she played with his cock, but there was nothing fun about not being able to touch her like he wanted while she was free to do whatever she wished.
A few years ago, Oliver had successfully managed to get Hermione on a broom without freaking out after Harry and Ron had dared him to, and now she was casually giving him a handjob while on a broom. Oh, how fast time flies!
"Are we going to crash?" Hermione murmured, flicking her thumb over the head of his cock. She gathered the precome on her fingers and rubbed it up and down the sides of length. "Do you want to come before we do?"
Oliver stuttered, "Please…put me out of my misery, witch."
"Well, I do like it when you beg so prettily," Hermione cooed, kissing the stubble on his jaw before slanting her lips over his.
Oliver didn't know what to do. She was kissing him, so of course he kissed her back, but he couldn't fully enjoy the feeling unless he closed his eyes, but if he did that, they were sure to die. And if he landed the broom, Hermione would stop what she was doing to his cock, and there was no way on earth Oliver wanted that to happen. He really was in a conundrum.
Hermione squeezed his cock once more, and Oliver cried out as his orgasm hit him like a Bludger, the broom jerking and flinging him forward. Hot come dribbled down his cock and balls, all over Hermione's hand. Still as relaxed as she could be, she grinned and continued moving her hand up and down until his skin was so sensitive he had to beg her, "Hermione, Merlin, I can't—"
Sniggering, Hermione let go of his cock and pulled her hand out. And then, she raised her fingers to her mouth and slowly slid them past her lips. She licked and sucked the digits, letting go of each one with a loud pop, and groaned. "You taste delicious."
Oliver had had enough. He tightened his grip on the broom and swerved towards the ground. The wind whipped his hair over his face, and Hermione squealed in his neck and wrapped her legs firmly around his waist. "Oli, what are you—"
"Hush you," Oliver grumbled, readying himself for a rough landing. His knees jostled when they hit the ground; he clutched Hermione to his chest before leaping off and rolling onto the wet grass below. They spun over and over until they finally came to a stop a few feet away.
Hermione laughed breathlessly, her eyes bright and amused, her brown curls spilling out of her bun and tangling with the grass underneath her head. "I can't believe you jumped off the broom!"
"I couldn't wait any longer," Oliver stated, pinning her with his hips. He pushed himself up with one hand and yanked his shirt over his head with the other. He knew just how much it aroused her, and he took full advantage of that fact whenever possible—especially when he had just returned from a sweaty Quidditch practice or a match.
Hermione's eyes glazed over, her lashes fluttering, and her mouth fell open. Her cheeks pinkened at the sight of his naked, sweaty torso, and Oliver smirked. He lowered himself down on top of her and drawled, "So, witch, now that we're still alive, want me to make you come?"
Hermione nodded fervently.
