HERMIONE'S WILD ADVENTURE
August 1st, 2000
Dear Journal, My name is Hermione. I was going to graduate a few days ago, valedictorian of my school, Hogwarts, when I overheard Parvati and Lavender talking about Parvati's wild night in Paris the summer before, when she lost her virginity for the first time. Then again, and again, and again. It made me so wet just thinking about it. I thought it would never happen to me.
Then I visited Sirius one night in Christmas Vacation, and he told me about his story about Venice. It was about making love in a gondola. He said that he couldn't have settled down with Tonks, his girlfriend, now two months pregnant, without having this experience. Because he was a sort of surrogate father to me, he said that he wanted me to do it. I thought he was nuts. Who would fuck me?
He told me about Silvodagna. She was an Italian who hung around all alone in the Piazza, drinking butterbeers and rum. He liked her for his ability to seem lost in her own little world while the other witches and wizards all around her argued over the galleons they dumped on the table to pay for their butterbeers. One day he approached her. She asked him point blank what he wanted. "Dinner," he said, "and let's get a gondola afterwards."
And they fucked. Right in front of the guy who steers the boat. He honestly used the word fuck. He said they were like animals in heat. He said it was dead wrong to tell you that you should ignore your animal instincts. You should come to grips with them, resolve them. "And most of all, drink deeply," he said.
So I'm in Italy. I've got plenty of money and a large, economy size pack of condoms, compliments of Sirius. I will fuck in a gondola with people watching.
August 2st, 2000
A woman watched from her balcony. So did the gondola guy. I felt the same thing as Sirius: power, lightness, like a weight had been lifted off my pendulous breasts, nut brown from so much time in the Mediterranean sun.
But, when Sirius told me what he wanted for me, he meant that he wanted me to experience it with a man. And so I did. And so I did.
I don't know what happened in the gondola. I was drunk, but I wanted her, the woman in the balcony, the moment I saw her, her full breast dangling over the railing, eyes sucked into my cunt. I really felt that: she couldn't move her eyes from my pussy if she wanted to. I've never felt that way about a woman. I wanted to feel a woman's tongue, her tongue, licking me all over. I knew she hungered for me. When I sucked Antonio's cock into my mouth I did it for her. I've never taken one that deep before. I almost gagged. All I though about was pleasing her, making her pussy all wet and sticky.
When I handed the condom to Niccolo, I was sad that I wouldn't be able to lie back afterwards with his come dribbling out of me. I figured she'd like that. I figured if she was with me she'd have a great deal of fun licking me clean. I imagine her like a cat, her little rough tongue cleansing me of the sticky mess and stimulating me at the same time. But she's more like a big cat, a tigress, viciously passionate. I saw her being fucked hard from behind while I masturbated in the bottom of the tiny boat. She liked it hard. She liked the big cock ramming into her like Apollo's Grecian battering ram.
Right now I can't help touching my clit. Wait while I inch the chair toward the window. Behind the gauzy curtain I touch myself. My clit pops out all angry and fired up to meet my fingers. I reach for the railing with my left foot, looping my toes around the iron bar and with my right foot I kick the curtain away so that it whips around behind me, exposing me suddenly to the street and apartments across.
August 8st, 2000
I never wear panties anymore. She has been following me around, but never talking, never getting to obvious. She looks between my legs. I like that she doesn't give up, when she glares in the direction of my pussy for a long time. My legs snap open for her. She will see my cunt if she waits. Honest.
August 13st, 2000
Jeez I'm hot. My fingers slide along my pussy slit like it's greased velvet. If I feel her watching I'll not only come but I'll wet the chair. I feel the breeze on my legs, cooling the wetness of my cunt. Harry, who was with me at the time, said I rub myself like I'm trying to start a fire. He liked to watch me get myself off. He liked me to orgasm in restaurants, at the ballgame. And I did. With my secret skirt, the one with the bottomless pockets, I'd slide my hand in and rub. Once the greasy old bartender caught me and watched until he had to sit down to hide his erection under the table. I squeezed it and he was surprised but happy. Then I finished. It rocked the table for a second but I don't think anyone else knew what I was doing. Except Harry, who'd always ask me to let him kiss my hand when what he really wanted was a whiff of my pussy juices.
August 20st, 2000
Last night in the parking lot Harry laid me across the trunk of his car and "layed some hose," as Ron liked to describe it. He just lifted my skirt and fucked me from behind. I liked it a lot but he hadn't touched my clit so when he finished I had to turn around and prop myself up with my elbow on the trunk lid and finger myself until his soupy come started running down to the trunk of the Axminster (which were illegal). I couldn't stop, not even when people came out of the bar all bloated and excited and gossipy. I guess I've always liked to have people around when my cunt is exposed. It makes me hot. I come so hard it's like I've been shot.
August 24st, 2000
My thoughts to the lady from the balcony:
"Now, watch me take my clit between my thumb and forefinger and gently twirl. The tiny motion is weird, because inside I'm about to explode. I'll have to get a towel because the seat is gonna be sopping when I come. Yes, I feel it. Do you see it? My cunt getting all frothy wet? My hand making squishy noises as I flatten it out on my hot little pussy in preparation for the final lap, the spasms that will rock me? You see it? You must--you are part of it. I feel your eyes like a cock wedge my cunt lips apart. Please make me come. Pleaseā¦"
She came down the balcony, runny liquid all down her ankles.
I feel a hot wetness around my own ankles, then a caress slowly up my calf: she, behind me. I shift my weight to the railing so I can spread my legs apart for her. I wait an eternity while her tongue navigates my thighs toward the swampy intersection where my clit awaits her lappings. She answers my groans by shoving her tongue into my cunt. I lean far over the little railing so when she throws the bottom of the wrap over my back it will stay. Her thick, silicon cock probes my cunt. I push backward and the soft head wedges its way into me. I push back again, but she follows my movements so her cock is barely in. She is teasing me. She is inside me, her cock mimicking the boy's sudden, frantic pistoning.
I can't help it--I grab the railing and push back as hard as I can, meeting every thrust. Her balls graze my clit and I want more pressure there but can't spare a hand, I'm pumping the railing harder and harder so that I'm losing myself in the exertion. It's simply fucking, spiritual and pure.
Her cock is driving into me with increasing frequency and her fingers strumming my clit hard and fast. I can't stand it any more. "Faster! Piu veloce!" I stammer. Perspiration stings my eyes. I whip my head around to loosen the strings of hair from my forehead and notice myself panting. The lady, too, grunts from the exertion and soon we are like angry curs, growling and thrashing wildly to a beat.
The hot spurt of her come lashes against the walls of my cunt. I clamp my thighs and feel the waves of orgasm pass over me, encouraged by a pulsating bite like an electrical shock radiating from my clit. My cunt clamps and holds her cock for a while, then I release it to feel the liquid remnants of our sex flow down my thighs.
I lean, exhausted, against the railing, head down, sweat dripping off my cheeks making small ripples in the water below. When I rise up, I shake the remaining dribbles of sweat off my chin.
