Chapter Eight: The Fine Art of Self-Control
"My turn," said Ginny.
"Wha-what?" Harry was frozen in a kind of stupor as his eyes traveled up and down Ginny's lithe, athletic body, taking in every dip and curve.
"My turn," she repeated, "to undress you."
Harry swallowed hard. "You-you're going to undress...me?"
"Of course," said Ginny, grinning. Harry couldn't believe it. She was standing there wearing nothing but a very skimpy pair of lacy white knickers and acting entirely nonchalant about it all.
"Uh, are we...I mean...we're not going to...you know," Harry stammered, wishing of course that they would do just that. And very, very soon.
"No," said Ginny firmly. Harry felt his erection deflate. Just a bit.
"Why not?"
"Because," said Ginny patiently, shifting her weight so that her hips moved enticingly. "You need a bit more practice with control. If I'm not mistaken you're about to rip through your trousers as it is. So, I need to help you learn how to calm down."
"I'm supposed to calm down when you're standing there practically starkers?" said Harry in a strained voice.
"Yes," said Ginny simply. "Breathe, Harry."
"Right," Harry choked, sucking in a huge gulp of air and trying not to let his eyes linger on the way the candlelight flickered and cast erotic shadows on her skin. He took another deep breath as she strode toward him, her movements decidedly feline, feminine, outrageously sexy.
"Don't move," she said softly. She came very close to him, stood up on tiptoe, and kissed him slowly, opening her mouth and pressing her tongue against his. He groaned and reached for her but she gripped his wrists.
"No," she whispered. "Breathe. Relax."
Easy for her to say! Harry thought angrily, but then she kissed him again, her tongue doing wicked things in his mouth. He felt her hands move up to this shirt and she began to undo the buttons. She stepped back, breaking the kiss.
"How do you feel?"
"Horny," said Harry.
"Relax," she said again. "You're awfully tense, you know." She continued to undo the buttons of his shirt, moving down.
"Gee, I wonder why," Harry said sarcastically, taking another deep breath as she finished unbuttoning his shirt. He wore a white t-shirt beneath. She reached up and pushed the button-down from his shoulders and pulled it off him and let it drop to the floor. She moved closer to him and kissed him again, grabbing his wrists to keep him from touching her. She broke the kiss again and pulled his t-shirt from the inside of his jeans.
"Are you breathing?"
"Sort of," said Harry, but when her fingers reached beneath the t-shirt and touched his stomach he sucked in his breath. She gripped the hem of the t- shirt and pulled it upward; instinctively he lifted his arms and let her pull the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor.
"Relax," she said a third time, as her fingers trailed over his chest and stomach, leaving little trails of icy, tingly heat in their wake. Harry shivered.
"Cold?" she asked.
"No," said Harry, sucking in his breath again as she stepped still closer to him. Their bodies-naked from the waist up-were inches apart.
She leaned up again and kissed him, moving her lips and her tongue with his, and then just as Harry thought he was getting the hang of things, that maybe he could in fact handle standing a few inches away from a gorgeous, nearly naked girl without his shirt on, Ginny moved in and pressed herself against him, putting her arms around his waist and trailing her fingers up his back.
Harry groaned as she pressed her breasts against him. The feel of their skin together was sweet agony. He threw his arms around her and was just about to pick her up and throw her on his bed when she gripped his wrists again and pulled his arms away.
"No," she whispered. "Control, remember?"
"This. Is. NOT. Fair," Harry choked, but he let her put his hands to his sides.
"Shh," she whispered, kissing him lightly. "Just stay calm."
Brilliant, he thought, just stay calm. No problem. She pressed herself against him again and he took a deep breath, then another, then another. He was not there. Ginny was not standing in front of him, naked but for a pair of knickers, rubbing her breasts seductively against his bare chest.
Except that he was there, and a million dead kittens couldn't help him now. He concentrated on breathing, which began to get a bit more labored when he felt Ginny's lips leave his and start a trail down his neck. He closed his eyes and let his mind focus on the sound of his breathing, the sound of Ginny's breathing, the feel of Ginny's mouth as she trailed kisses along his collarbone.
He gasped when he felt, rather than heard, her reach for the buckle of his belt. She unfastened it without no trouble whatsoever (they ought to make bras that easy to unfasten, Harry thought for a split second), then pulled it slowly through the loops of his jeans and dropped it on the floor, where a pile of discarded clothing was fast accumulating.
"Okay, Harry?" Ginny asked, trailing her fingers up his bare back.
"Yeah," he said, opening his eyes and looking at her. Big mistake. The minute he saw her freckled face, the way her eyes looked sleepy and sexy and sparkling and the way her bare skin glistened in the candle light, his erection throbbed rather painfully again.
"Close your eyes, if it helps," said Ginny, reaching around and taking hold of the top button of Harry's jeans.
Harry said nothing, only nodded and closed his eyes again. The truth was he wanted to look at Ginny but he knew if he did he might not keep things under control-he was barely doing so as it was. He felt Ginny open the buttons of his jeans, felt her fingers flutter over the waistband of his boxers. He felt Ginny's mouth on him again, trailing over his shoulders, then lower, across his chest. He felt his erection throb again. If nothing else, he thought, getting these damn jeans off will be a huge relief. Provided, of course, he didn't lose himself in the process.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, forcing himself to breathe, as Ginny began to pull down his jeans. Her mouth had moved lower, lower, onto his stomach.
"Dear god," he heard himself moan, and he clenched his fists at his sides. He opened his eyes for a moment and looked down to see Ginny kneeling in front of him, pulling his jeans down to his ankles, her mouth making light kisses on his stomach.
Stop looking! a voice in his head screamed. The image of Ginny kneeling like that was doing nothing to relieve the throbbing between his legs, but then he realized that he was no longer wearing his jeans, and let out a sigh of relief that nothing was there to pinch at him anymore.
He opened his eyes once more and now Ginny was standing level with him, a foot away, looking him in the face.
"How are you doing?" she asked.
"Well," said Harry, trying for a light tone, "I definitely feel a bit better now my jeans are off, thanks."
Ginny giggled. "Poor men. I'm glad I don't have your equipment."
"I'm glad you don't, either," said Harry, feeling his erection ease up a bit. "But they do cause some embarrassment, that's for certain."
She took a step closer to him. "You're doing really well. But now comes the real test."
Harry gulped. "What do you-oh." The last bit came out as a strangled moan. Ginny was reaching inside his boxers and stroking his behind. She pulled her hands out and then moved closer, lowering her hands so that they hung in front of his thighs.
"Look at me," she said. "Look at my eyes."
Harry nodded, and looked into Ginny's eyes, which had taken on a beautiful kind of green/gold glow in the candlelight.
"I'm going to touch you," she said huskily. "Just look at my face, and do whatever you need to do to stay relaxed."
Harry nodded again, his eyes widening. He gasped when he felt Ginny's fingers brush against his thighs, lifting the legs of his boxers.
"God," he whispered, feeling his erection straining at him.
"Think of other things," Ginny instructed. "Talk out loud if you need to."
"Right," said Harry, as her fingers drifted closer to his crotch, but then skipped away. "Uh, Quidditch. School. Charms Lessons. Herbology. Astronomy- oh GOD!"
Her fingers brushed across his swollen erection, teasing him through the fabric of his boxers.
"Keep talking," said Ginny quickly, still stroking him.
"Bludgers," he said out loud, then quickly threw that idea out-thinking of balls wouldn't help his situation. "Uh, uh, shepherd's pie. No, uh, Potions. Bubotuber pus. D.A. meetings. Uh, uh, Professor Sprout!"
"Ew," said Ginny, stopping mid-stroke.
"Give me a break!" Harry gasped.
"Right," said Ginny, and she resumed fondling him. Only this time she reached inside his boxers.
"Dead kittens!" Harry said loudly, hoping like hell he'd remembered to close all the windows in the house so that the neighbors didn't hear. "Oh, my GOD. Uh, uh, Blast-Ended Skrewts. Spattergroit! Polyjuice Potion! Professor Umbridge!"
"Now that's REALLY gross," said Ginny, pulling her hands from the inside of his shorts.
"It's working, isn't it?!" Harry cried, torn between wanting her to continue what she was doing and wanting to run from the room and never let another girl touch him like that again. It was pure, unadulterated, fantastic, wonderful torture.
"I think that's good for now," said Ginny, stepping back from him.
"Oh, come ON!" Harry protested, realizing that yes, indeed, he DID want a girl to touch him like that. He wanted Ginny to touch him like that. He wanted a whole lot more to happen. "We can't quit now. It was working! I can handle more stuff, I swear!"
"Harry, I don't want to...overdo it with you," said Ginny.
"You won't!" Harry insisted, but now he was sounding a bit whiney.
"Harry," said Ginny, eyeing him perceptively.
"This isn't fair," Harry grumbled, feeling his erection deflate a bit. He sat down heavily on his bed.
"I know it's hard," she said sympathetically.
"Bad choice of words, Gin," said Harry, running a hand through his hair.
"Sorry." She paused in the midst of buttoning up her blouse. "Look, Harry, the whole point of this isn't to get you into bed with me. It's to...to prepare you to go to bed with Cho, remember?"
"Yeah," said Harry, not really caring to think about Cho at that moment.
"Do you really think Cho would appreciate it if you had sex with me right before having sex with her?" Ginny was pulling on her jeans now.
"She wouldn't know," said Harry stubbornly.
"But you would," said Ginny, sitting down at his desk chair. "And I know you, Harry. You're too good, you're too honest a person to hide your feelings. You couldn't live with yourself. And to be perfectly frank, I don't know that I could live with myself."
"What?" Harry asked, surprised. "Why?"
"Because you're my friend," said Ginny. "I want you to be happy. That's why I'm helping you. To give you a bit of confidence, maybe, so you don't go around feeling like you're not good enough for the girl of your dreams. I don't want to ruin it for you, and if we had sex, it would ruin it for you."
Harry looked at her and felt a small lump in his throat. She knew him better than he realized.
"You're incredible, Ginny," said Harry, meaning it. "How do you know what's going on in my head when half the time I can't even figure it out?"
"I pay attention," said Ginny. "I'm also not quite so horny as you all the time. Being constantly randy has a way of clouding one's mind."
"Shut up," said Harry playfully, blushing.
"I should go," said Ginny, smoothing her hair. "Take this." She handed him her bra.
"Uh, that's your bra."
"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes. "Practice on it, opening the clasp. Next time I want to see you do it one handed, okay?"
"Okay," said Harry, feeling a bit better now that Ginny was fully clothed. Well, almost fully clothed. She wasn't wearing her bra. Harry felt a slight stirring in his shorts. Good lord, he was incorrigible. Or rather, IT was incorrigible.
"And keep reading those books," said Ginny. "Foreplay, you know? It's really important. You...uh...you showed some aptitude in that...tonight." She went red in the face.
"I did?" said Harry, blushing.
"Yeah," said Ginny, pulling on her jacket. "Didn't you hear me...you know...moaning?"
Harry swallowed hard. "Uh, yeah," he said, feeling the stirring in his shorts grow stronger. He probably should just stay seated. "I...sort of wondered...you know, if you were faking it."
"I wasn't," said Ginny. She looked briefly at her shoes and then at him. "You have great hands, you know. Rough, but...gentle. Did you...read about that in the books?"
"No," said Harry, finding it suddenly difficult to talk. He had turned her on! he thought wildly. He, Harry Potter, biggest loser in the universe when it came to women, had managed to sexually arouse Ginny Weasley! He felt like throwing himself a party. He felt like grabbing Ginny and tearing off her clothes and throwing her on the bed and doing more things to her. Instead he sat, frozen in place.
"Well, it was good," said Ginny, picking up her handbag and blushing very red, so that her face matched her hair. "Keep it up."
"Oh, it's up," Harry blurted, shifting slightly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Men," she said, grinning. "Honestly."
"My turn," said Ginny.
"Wha-what?" Harry was frozen in a kind of stupor as his eyes traveled up and down Ginny's lithe, athletic body, taking in every dip and curve.
"My turn," she repeated, "to undress you."
Harry swallowed hard. "You-you're going to undress...me?"
"Of course," said Ginny, grinning. Harry couldn't believe it. She was standing there wearing nothing but a very skimpy pair of lacy white knickers and acting entirely nonchalant about it all.
"Uh, are we...I mean...we're not going to...you know," Harry stammered, wishing of course that they would do just that. And very, very soon.
"No," said Ginny firmly. Harry felt his erection deflate. Just a bit.
"Why not?"
"Because," said Ginny patiently, shifting her weight so that her hips moved enticingly. "You need a bit more practice with control. If I'm not mistaken you're about to rip through your trousers as it is. So, I need to help you learn how to calm down."
"I'm supposed to calm down when you're standing there practically starkers?" said Harry in a strained voice.
"Yes," said Ginny simply. "Breathe, Harry."
"Right," Harry choked, sucking in a huge gulp of air and trying not to let his eyes linger on the way the candlelight flickered and cast erotic shadows on her skin. He took another deep breath as she strode toward him, her movements decidedly feline, feminine, outrageously sexy.
"Don't move," she said softly. She came very close to him, stood up on tiptoe, and kissed him slowly, opening her mouth and pressing her tongue against his. He groaned and reached for her but she gripped his wrists.
"No," she whispered. "Breathe. Relax."
Easy for her to say! Harry thought angrily, but then she kissed him again, her tongue doing wicked things in his mouth. He felt her hands move up to this shirt and she began to undo the buttons. She stepped back, breaking the kiss.
"How do you feel?"
"Horny," said Harry.
"Relax," she said again. "You're awfully tense, you know." She continued to undo the buttons of his shirt, moving down.
"Gee, I wonder why," Harry said sarcastically, taking another deep breath as she finished unbuttoning his shirt. He wore a white t-shirt beneath. She reached up and pushed the button-down from his shoulders and pulled it off him and let it drop to the floor. She moved closer to him and kissed him again, grabbing his wrists to keep him from touching her. She broke the kiss again and pulled his t-shirt from the inside of his jeans.
"Are you breathing?"
"Sort of," said Harry, but when her fingers reached beneath the t-shirt and touched his stomach he sucked in his breath. She gripped the hem of the t- shirt and pulled it upward; instinctively he lifted his arms and let her pull the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor.
"Relax," she said a third time, as her fingers trailed over his chest and stomach, leaving little trails of icy, tingly heat in their wake. Harry shivered.
"Cold?" she asked.
"No," said Harry, sucking in his breath again as she stepped still closer to him. Their bodies-naked from the waist up-were inches apart.
She leaned up again and kissed him, moving her lips and her tongue with his, and then just as Harry thought he was getting the hang of things, that maybe he could in fact handle standing a few inches away from a gorgeous, nearly naked girl without his shirt on, Ginny moved in and pressed herself against him, putting her arms around his waist and trailing her fingers up his back.
Harry groaned as she pressed her breasts against him. The feel of their skin together was sweet agony. He threw his arms around her and was just about to pick her up and throw her on his bed when she gripped his wrists again and pulled his arms away.
"No," she whispered. "Control, remember?"
"This. Is. NOT. Fair," Harry choked, but he let her put his hands to his sides.
"Shh," she whispered, kissing him lightly. "Just stay calm."
Brilliant, he thought, just stay calm. No problem. She pressed herself against him again and he took a deep breath, then another, then another. He was not there. Ginny was not standing in front of him, naked but for a pair of knickers, rubbing her breasts seductively against his bare chest.
Except that he was there, and a million dead kittens couldn't help him now. He concentrated on breathing, which began to get a bit more labored when he felt Ginny's lips leave his and start a trail down his neck. He closed his eyes and let his mind focus on the sound of his breathing, the sound of Ginny's breathing, the feel of Ginny's mouth as she trailed kisses along his collarbone.
He gasped when he felt, rather than heard, her reach for the buckle of his belt. She unfastened it without no trouble whatsoever (they ought to make bras that easy to unfasten, Harry thought for a split second), then pulled it slowly through the loops of his jeans and dropped it on the floor, where a pile of discarded clothing was fast accumulating.
"Okay, Harry?" Ginny asked, trailing her fingers up his bare back.
"Yeah," he said, opening his eyes and looking at her. Big mistake. The minute he saw her freckled face, the way her eyes looked sleepy and sexy and sparkling and the way her bare skin glistened in the candle light, his erection throbbed rather painfully again.
"Close your eyes, if it helps," said Ginny, reaching around and taking hold of the top button of Harry's jeans.
Harry said nothing, only nodded and closed his eyes again. The truth was he wanted to look at Ginny but he knew if he did he might not keep things under control-he was barely doing so as it was. He felt Ginny open the buttons of his jeans, felt her fingers flutter over the waistband of his boxers. He felt Ginny's mouth on him again, trailing over his shoulders, then lower, across his chest. He felt his erection throb again. If nothing else, he thought, getting these damn jeans off will be a huge relief. Provided, of course, he didn't lose himself in the process.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, forcing himself to breathe, as Ginny began to pull down his jeans. Her mouth had moved lower, lower, onto his stomach.
"Dear god," he heard himself moan, and he clenched his fists at his sides. He opened his eyes for a moment and looked down to see Ginny kneeling in front of him, pulling his jeans down to his ankles, her mouth making light kisses on his stomach.
Stop looking! a voice in his head screamed. The image of Ginny kneeling like that was doing nothing to relieve the throbbing between his legs, but then he realized that he was no longer wearing his jeans, and let out a sigh of relief that nothing was there to pinch at him anymore.
He opened his eyes once more and now Ginny was standing level with him, a foot away, looking him in the face.
"How are you doing?" she asked.
"Well," said Harry, trying for a light tone, "I definitely feel a bit better now my jeans are off, thanks."
Ginny giggled. "Poor men. I'm glad I don't have your equipment."
"I'm glad you don't, either," said Harry, feeling his erection ease up a bit. "But they do cause some embarrassment, that's for certain."
She took a step closer to him. "You're doing really well. But now comes the real test."
Harry gulped. "What do you-oh." The last bit came out as a strangled moan. Ginny was reaching inside his boxers and stroking his behind. She pulled her hands out and then moved closer, lowering her hands so that they hung in front of his thighs.
"Look at me," she said. "Look at my eyes."
Harry nodded, and looked into Ginny's eyes, which had taken on a beautiful kind of green/gold glow in the candlelight.
"I'm going to touch you," she said huskily. "Just look at my face, and do whatever you need to do to stay relaxed."
Harry nodded again, his eyes widening. He gasped when he felt Ginny's fingers brush against his thighs, lifting the legs of his boxers.
"God," he whispered, feeling his erection straining at him.
"Think of other things," Ginny instructed. "Talk out loud if you need to."
"Right," said Harry, as her fingers drifted closer to his crotch, but then skipped away. "Uh, Quidditch. School. Charms Lessons. Herbology. Astronomy- oh GOD!"
Her fingers brushed across his swollen erection, teasing him through the fabric of his boxers.
"Keep talking," said Ginny quickly, still stroking him.
"Bludgers," he said out loud, then quickly threw that idea out-thinking of balls wouldn't help his situation. "Uh, uh, shepherd's pie. No, uh, Potions. Bubotuber pus. D.A. meetings. Uh, uh, Professor Sprout!"
"Ew," said Ginny, stopping mid-stroke.
"Give me a break!" Harry gasped.
"Right," said Ginny, and she resumed fondling him. Only this time she reached inside his boxers.
"Dead kittens!" Harry said loudly, hoping like hell he'd remembered to close all the windows in the house so that the neighbors didn't hear. "Oh, my GOD. Uh, uh, Blast-Ended Skrewts. Spattergroit! Polyjuice Potion! Professor Umbridge!"
"Now that's REALLY gross," said Ginny, pulling her hands from the inside of his shorts.
"It's working, isn't it?!" Harry cried, torn between wanting her to continue what she was doing and wanting to run from the room and never let another girl touch him like that again. It was pure, unadulterated, fantastic, wonderful torture.
"I think that's good for now," said Ginny, stepping back from him.
"Oh, come ON!" Harry protested, realizing that yes, indeed, he DID want a girl to touch him like that. He wanted Ginny to touch him like that. He wanted a whole lot more to happen. "We can't quit now. It was working! I can handle more stuff, I swear!"
"Harry, I don't want to...overdo it with you," said Ginny.
"You won't!" Harry insisted, but now he was sounding a bit whiney.
"Harry," said Ginny, eyeing him perceptively.
"This isn't fair," Harry grumbled, feeling his erection deflate a bit. He sat down heavily on his bed.
"I know it's hard," she said sympathetically.
"Bad choice of words, Gin," said Harry, running a hand through his hair.
"Sorry." She paused in the midst of buttoning up her blouse. "Look, Harry, the whole point of this isn't to get you into bed with me. It's to...to prepare you to go to bed with Cho, remember?"
"Yeah," said Harry, not really caring to think about Cho at that moment.
"Do you really think Cho would appreciate it if you had sex with me right before having sex with her?" Ginny was pulling on her jeans now.
"She wouldn't know," said Harry stubbornly.
"But you would," said Ginny, sitting down at his desk chair. "And I know you, Harry. You're too good, you're too honest a person to hide your feelings. You couldn't live with yourself. And to be perfectly frank, I don't know that I could live with myself."
"What?" Harry asked, surprised. "Why?"
"Because you're my friend," said Ginny. "I want you to be happy. That's why I'm helping you. To give you a bit of confidence, maybe, so you don't go around feeling like you're not good enough for the girl of your dreams. I don't want to ruin it for you, and if we had sex, it would ruin it for you."
Harry looked at her and felt a small lump in his throat. She knew him better than he realized.
"You're incredible, Ginny," said Harry, meaning it. "How do you know what's going on in my head when half the time I can't even figure it out?"
"I pay attention," said Ginny. "I'm also not quite so horny as you all the time. Being constantly randy has a way of clouding one's mind."
"Shut up," said Harry playfully, blushing.
"I should go," said Ginny, smoothing her hair. "Take this." She handed him her bra.
"Uh, that's your bra."
"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes. "Practice on it, opening the clasp. Next time I want to see you do it one handed, okay?"
"Okay," said Harry, feeling a bit better now that Ginny was fully clothed. Well, almost fully clothed. She wasn't wearing her bra. Harry felt a slight stirring in his shorts. Good lord, he was incorrigible. Or rather, IT was incorrigible.
"And keep reading those books," said Ginny. "Foreplay, you know? It's really important. You...uh...you showed some aptitude in that...tonight." She went red in the face.
"I did?" said Harry, blushing.
"Yeah," said Ginny, pulling on her jacket. "Didn't you hear me...you know...moaning?"
Harry swallowed hard. "Uh, yeah," he said, feeling the stirring in his shorts grow stronger. He probably should just stay seated. "I...sort of wondered...you know, if you were faking it."
"I wasn't," said Ginny. She looked briefly at her shoes and then at him. "You have great hands, you know. Rough, but...gentle. Did you...read about that in the books?"
"No," said Harry, finding it suddenly difficult to talk. He had turned her on! he thought wildly. He, Harry Potter, biggest loser in the universe when it came to women, had managed to sexually arouse Ginny Weasley! He felt like throwing himself a party. He felt like grabbing Ginny and tearing off her clothes and throwing her on the bed and doing more things to her. Instead he sat, frozen in place.
"Well, it was good," said Ginny, picking up her handbag and blushing very red, so that her face matched her hair. "Keep it up."
"Oh, it's up," Harry blurted, shifting slightly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Men," she said, grinning. "Honestly."
