Sensations of Shemales: Christmas At Apolline's

by FanfictionWriter101

A festive spin-off to my sensations series involving a large gathering at Apolline Delacour's. Sex and perversion aplenty with enemies becoming intimate lovers, characters discovering all new-realms of pleasure, and a sufficiently fitting number of salacious shemales! (SMUT)

3. Chapter 3: Newfound Bliss

Chapter Three: Newfound Bliss

Tonks was excited. How could she not be? Having perused the proverbial talent at the brief group meeting downstairs, she had readily concluded that there were very few people she didn't want to pair up with. Those that ranked in that group were largely people she had explored the realm of sex so fully with that being paired up with them would be somewhat of a wasted opportunity. By and large, she simply couldn't wait to step through the small doorway and into the designated room. She barely let her hand rest on the door-handle and instead simply pushed through into the room beyond. Immediately, she was met with a rather delightful sight. Not that of her partner, but rather the setting. Of all the luscious rooms in the entire mansion, she lucked out in getting what appeared to be a communal bathroom of sorts. At the centre of the room was a large raised bathtub, easily big enough to fit a large group of people comfortably. It was seemingly filled, with wisps of steam rising from the hot water. The air itself seemed to be rather steamy as well, as if the bath had been sat there a fair while, steadily simmering and flooding the air with a thin mist. The steam itself wasn't enough to cloud Tonks' vision as she stepped into the room, the door sealing behind her, revealing that her partner was already in there. It didn't take her long to discern a figure standing at the opposite end of the room, her hands clasped behind her back, looking away. At the sound of the magical lock clicking, the woman turned to face her partner, staring with an austere professionalism in her unflinching face. It was a face that Tonks was all too familiar with and one that she didn't know how in the slightest to react to. Out of pure instinct, the purple haired woman straightened her back, and looked who was ostensibly her boss in the face, her voice steadying as she addressed her, "Miss Bones?

"Tonks? I… Well… I suppose that this…" Amelia breathed, taking a moment to contemplate. Frankly, she had been dreading who would walk through that door. It felt like no matter who she imagined, it always ended up badly. Yet, she failed to consider Tonks, who, of everyone in attendance was in Amelia's words, "I suppose that of all the possibilities, this is perhaps the most appropriate."

"How so? I mean we work together. I imagine this would be a HR nightmare," Tonks chuckled, relaxing slightly as her instinctive stance dissipated. Doing her best to keep a professional air between them, Tonks couldn't help herself, her eyes running across Amelia's rather ordinary body. She had a nice figure, with round hips and a pleasant ass, yet it was hardly remarkable in Tonks' opinion. Not that that was a bad thing. It had a mature allure about it. It didn't help that the woman was decked in the plainest underwear imaginable; something which Tonks found baffling given the sheer extent of Apolline's options.

"In that sense, I yes. But… Well… How to put this…" Amelia said, trying to find her words. The reasons why Tonks was perhaps the best option were endless, yet it all came back to the same sentiment; how she didn't want this getting out anywhere, "I can trust you to keep this hush, hush."

"I see… Students aren't exactly ones to hold the tongues," Tonks smirked, folding her arms, unwittingly doing so in a manner that plumped her breasts up. Realising the perverse take someone could have in response to her words, she corrected herself, in a manner she so often had to when working, "I didn't mean that in a crass way."

"I could always rely on you for innuendo…" Amelia smirked, the first hint of comforting familiarity cracking across her façade. Slowly, crossing the room, she kept her hands behind her back, the thin mist managing to cloud the light pink hue that was burning on her cheeks, "I don't know how best to approach this. Perhaps one of us relieves the other, then vice versa?"

"Relieves the other? Does it really need to be that formal?" Tonks asked, realising that Amelia's idea of relieving one another would be a comparatively modest, professional handjob when held alongside Tonks' wild ravenous imagination.

"Need I remind you off the purpose of this supposed peace talk? I might disagree with Apolline's methods, but the end goal is important regardless," Amelia sighed, taking Tonks' perverse undertones in her stride. She did after all work with the open and somewhat salacious woman. Doing her best to reason with Tonks, Amelia continued "Besides, as representatives of the ministry, I think its in our best interest to remain as presentable as possible."

"Well, I'm not here as a representative of the ministry. So… as a member of an unallied faction, perhaps it would be best to do our best to foster relations? Delacour style," Tonks suggested with a perverse grin, trying to remain as playful as possible. She had no intention of forcing Amelia into some wildly kinky situation by holding her hostage in this room, but she was hoping that for once she'd crack the professional façade and let loose.

"Tonks, please…" Amelia pleaded, trying to get Tonks to see what she saw as unequivocal reason. To Amelia, this was perhaps the most important gathering in recent memory, yet Tonks appeared to see it as an erotic swingers' event. Despite Apolline's assertions to the contrary.

"Oh, come on, Amelia. Outside this room, its all doom and gloom. In here, until that door unlocks, it's just us," Tonks reasoned, taking a rather modest approach. Amelia had expected the woman to launch into an argument derived from lust, trying to persuade Amelia that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Instead, she framed it as an escape. The suggestion had merit to Amelia. This room was a prison of sorts to the two of them. One that could only be escaped via lust and perversion. Perhaps, given that she was backed into a corner, it would be an opportunity to relieve the immense stress of working at the ministry in such times. Even then, Amelia wasn't so quick and eager to roll over and leap at the opportunity to fuck.

"Colleagues," Amelia reminded Tonks, putting their relationship firmly in its place, only to have the purple-haired woman surprise her once again. Stepping forwards, Tonks drew Amelia's averted gaze towards her with a smile and a rather soft-spoken counter to her statement.

"Friends?" Tonks suggested, the sentiment legitimate and not a thinly veiled attempt at seducing Amelia out of her knickers. They may have been colleagues, but after years of working with one another, they had fostered some relationship. At least enough to have playful banter about Tonks' proclivity for innuendo and Amelia's formal description of a handjob. Still, the suggestion they were friends took Amelia by surprise. She had few friends at the ministry, with her ideals making swift enemies of the more duplicit political figures, yet she never considered Tonks to be a friend. Though, she swiftly began to think of that as an oversight on her part. Seeing the surprise on Amelia's face, Tonks decided a softer approach to be applicable, "At least let's take a dip in the bath. That can be the extent of our debauchery?"

"Fine," Amelia conceded. In truth, the prospect of a bath seemed almost too good to be true. The last time she had properly soaked could have very well been months ago. With Amelia's agreement, Tonks leapt into action like an excitable child. Immediately, she began to unfasten the garments she had previously chosen, somewhat disappointed to be peeling away such a delectable ensemble. The faux corset fell away quickly, dropping to the ground and being swiftly followed by her panties. With her cock flopping free, Tonks pulled the rest of her clothing off, peeling the tights she was wearing unceremoniously off. Glancing up at Amelia, she noted the surprise on the woman's face. Realising her suddenness was somewhat startling, Tonks slowed down, bowing her head and quelling her childish excitement. A smirk curled on Amelia's lips as a result, the woman comforted by the glee on Tonks' face. Frankly, it would have been more disquieting to see her silent and stoic. Regardless, Amelia begrudgingly followed suit, noting the lack of swimwear. Realising she would have to wear the same underwear out of the room, she peeled her bra and panties off, laying them neatly on a nearby chair. Turning back to the bath, Amelia watched Tonks clamber up the small set of stairs, the woman's arse highlighted as she did so, bunching with each upward step. Biting her lip, Amelia couldn't deny the twitch that ran along her cock as Tonks descended into the bath, the woman moaning at the hot embrace of the warm water.

The tantalising shimmer of the still water was enough to get Amelia following after her. Having stripped naked, there was little stopping Amelia from the embrace of the hot water and the relative preservation of modesty it could provide. Sinking beneath the water, Amelia let out an unbecoming groan of pleasure, her cock steadily hardening out of the inherent satisfaction of the warm waters. Tonks smirked as Amelia took a position on the opposite side of the bath, sinking her body beneath the surface so only her head and arms remained above. It was startling the sudden shift from professional to relaxed. The water did wonders for Amelia, giving her a moment of reprieve amidst the still warmth. As much as Tonks wanted to pursue their inevitable orgasms, a part of her couldn't deprive Amelia of the satisfaction she was so obviously relishing. The smile on her face was genuine and sincere, the pleased look one of utter delight. Just seeing that on the stern face of her boss was enough to make Tonks melt into the water, deciding to do her best to share in the quiet, simple joy of a good bath. The water seemed so aromatic, with the thin mist of the room taking on a sensual effect, filling their nostrils with delightful scents. To Tonks' surprise, when she next opened her eyes, she spotted small floating flowers blossoming on the waters surface, seemingly filling the air with the delectable smells and further enchanting them into a deeper sensual haze.

"This is perfect…" Amelia let out, the deep sigh in her voice bleeding with pure catharsis. Sinking deeper beneath the water, she allowed almost her entire body to become enveloped, the woman angling her head backwards so that the water rested around her face, a mere inch being all that stopped her from sinking beneath the water entirely. Seemingly unaware of Tonks' presence, Amelia stretched out, her legs reaching further forwards, unwittingly grazing against her colleague's body. It took Tonks by surprise when she felt Amelia's foot graze against her own. Open her eyes, she glanced downwards, hoping to see through the shimmering veil of the water. Instead, she was forced to simply feel it. Inch by inch, Amelia's foot gliding along Tonks' leg. At first, it was innocuous, brushing simply against her calf. However, as it eased further and further, touching against her thigh, Tonks felt a rush of excitement surge through her cock. Having a part of Amelia's body so close to her cock was enough to get her blood pumping and her cock throbbing. And it seemed that Amelia was far from close to stopping. Further and further along Tonks' thigh the woman's foot reached, until the sole of her foot was pressed against Tonks's crotch, the heel resting in the join between Tonks's thigh and crotch. Breathing heavily, Tonks couldn't help as her cock hardened. All it would take was a slight inward twist from Amelia's ankle, and she would feel Amelia's foot firmly against her cock. Whilst Tonks would have ordinarily despised such a particular kink, the situation seemed to get her blood pumping in ways she didn't anticipate, her cock begging to be touched in any capacity; begging to explored in any way by Amelia Bones.

Breathing heavily, Tonks did her best to remain calm, knowing that her cock was on the precipice of a delightful wave of pleasure. Tentatively, she shifted herself, twisting her hips so that her slipped sideways. Stifling a gasp, she felt her cock brush against Amelia's ankle, the simple graze beneath enough to elicit a shudder of pleasure from Tonks. Had she been a clearer mind, she would have laughed at the ludicrous value she was placing on this simple, innocuous interaction, yet in the moment, she was completely unable to stop herself from relishing the slight shivers that came from the brief moments of friction. Dropping a hand below the water, Tonks pressed several fingers against the side of her cock, pushing it firmly against Amelia's skin, breathing slowly as she braced for a reaction from the older woman. Instead, she remained silent, smiling softly as she relished the chance to relax. As such, Tonks began to lightly work her hips back and forth, using her fingers to keep her cock pinned in place. Slowly, she dragged her cock along the side of Amelia's ankle, the feeling of her flesh being even slightly caressed acting as enough of a catalyst for Tonks' first soft moan. Keeping her eyes firmly on Amelia's face both to ensure she didn't suddenly realise what was going on and for a visual reminder that she was rutting her cock against her bosses' leg, humping gently away. It was a scintillating experience and one that quickly consumed Tonks' rational thought. What started as slow and furtive movements, were now becoming increasingly pleasure hungry, the still surface of the water beginning to ripple as Tonks cock begged for more tangible pleasure. Each thrust grew more purposeful and fiercer, to the point that Tonks eyes rolled closed, the water lightly splashing as she descended into the moment. Grinding her cock hungrily against Amelia in the only way she could, Tonks was only roused from her haze by Amelia finally taking note of what was going on. In a low and unassuming voice, she asked, "Tonks? What are you doing?"

"Oh? Me… Nothing," Tonks gasped, realising what had happened. As she opened her eyes, she found that one of her hands was placed on the bottom of Amelia's foot, lifting it slightly into the air. Furthermore, Tonks was lightly squatting in the water, her position allowing for longer and fluid thrusts. Quickly, she let go of Amelia's foot and sank back into the water, the older woman's shrewd lips curling into a smile.

"I suppose it would be prudent to address the elephant in the room?" Amelia chuckled, rising to a sitting position in the water, the shimmering surface hiding the very apex of her breasts. All that Tonks could savour was the slow outward curve of her tits, with the plump fullness and crowning nipple being hidden beneath the surface.

"What would that be?" Tonks asked nonchalantly, hoping that two of them could brush swiftly past her moment of unbecoming deviancy. Smirking at her feigned ignorance, Amelia silently commented on Tonks' inability to lie. Or rather, her inability to lie with her own face. She could deceive the Dark Lord himself when wearing another person's face, yet in her own, she wore her lies on the surface.

"And to think you were so eager to get your rocks off earlier," Amelia chuckled, trying to muster the confidence to express what she was thinking. Eventually, she bit the bullet and said, "I might be persuaded to take a more intimate approach to Apolline's door-locking magicks…"

"Persuaded? Well… I'm rather good at persuasion," Tonks grinned, realising that that was Amelia's best sultry invitation for a more passionate exploration than her previous grinding. It was remarkable how quickly Tonks shifted to from her bumbling clumsy self to a salacious and hungry allure. However, she wasted no time at all in persuading Amelia into wilder pastures.

Slowly, Tonks shifted forwards in the water, keeping her body submerged beneath the surface. Only her smiling face appeared above the shimmering waters as she came to the centre of the bath. It was surprisingly deep, requiring her to straighten her body a little to touch the bottom, but as she came into reach of Amelia, she made the bold and provocative next step. Instead of slowly rising out the other side of the bath, Tonks instead dipped below the water's surface, disappearing entirely. Surprised, Amelia quickly felt Tonks between her legs, the Auror planting her hands on the older woman's thighs to spread them. Obliging her, Amelia stretched her legs apart, resting her hands on the edge of the bath as Tonks wrapped hers around Amelia's cock. Any doubts Amelia had melted away with that first grasp of Tonks' hands. The softness of her palms reminded Amelia of the pleasures of another person. She hadn't had sex in a long time, with her work pressures dominating her time. So feeling Tonks silky hands running along her cock, gently jerking her off, gave Amelia a real sense of satisfaction, all the while reminding her that her stamina had waned as a result of her abstinence. And then came Tonks lips. They brushed gently against her tip, planting a submerged kiss against the sensitive flesh. Breathing inwards, Amelia moaned softly the moment that Tonks took her cock into her mouth, tightening those tender lips around her bulbous head. Immediately, Tonks went to work, her tongue weaving and carving across the soft purplish tip, levelling copious amounts of pleasure down upon the older woman's tip. Beneath the water, Amelia's sounds of pleasure were mere distorted murmurs, yet Tonks didn't care. The satisfaction of suckling on Amelia Bones' cock was pleasure enough.

Tonks was no stranger to an underwater blowjob. Her time in the company of Fleur resulted in many late-night swims or communal baths and as such, she knew exactly how to make what could be a stunted blowjob into an utterly heavenly experience. Slowly, she eased her lips down Amelia's cock, swallowing her thick and surprising length into her throat. Unbeknownst to her, Amelia was in heaven already, with the mere idea of a deepthroat being something she relished. Yet, Tonks went even further, taking the woman's cock easily into her tight and clutching depths. With little difficulty, she had her lips fastened around Amelia's base, her nose thrust into the untamed hair above the woman's cock, her heavy balls churning against her chin. Expecting Tonks to pull back for air, Amelia underestimated the woman's talents and foresight. Not only did she had no intention of pulling back, but she had also pre-empted her need to breath by mimicking the effects of gillyweed via her metamorphmagus abilities. Breathing through the thin slits in her throat, she kept her lips fastened in place, her throat bulging from the thick heavenly cock thrust deep within her. As much as Tonks wanted to have her own cock pleasured, she knew that this would be satisfaction enough. As soon as she was comfortable with her position, Tonks tightened her lips firmly around Amelia's base, almost pinching into her meaty cock. As she did so, she focussed on her throat, slowly tightening and loosening her gullet, using her unique abilities to squeeze Amelia's cock. The sharp intake of breath that came as a result could be heard even beneath the water's surface, eliciting a cock-stuffed smirk from Tonks. This was her best trick and one that could make anyone cum in mere minutes. The fluctuating tightness of her throat was similar to jerking someone off, yet instead of the softness of a hand, she was being stroked of by the warm, velvety wetness of Tonks throat. Alternating her technique, Tonks ensured that she kept Amelia constantly on her toes, the pleasure changing and morphing at a moment's notice, constantly taking her by surprise.

Above the water, Amelia was practically convulsing. To have her return to the sexual world be so intense and consuming was utterly unfathomable. Her cock sung in ways she didn't think possible. She felt an overbearing tightness in her core that was added to with each pass of Tonks' tightening gullet. The immensity of the pleasure came as a result of the fact that Tonks' throat was already amazingly satisfying, which meant that whenever the spike of intensity that came as a result of her gullet tightening went away, Amelia's cock was still plunged in the sexual equivalent of heaven. Pre-cum poured from her cock uncontrollably, and what had begun as soft and delicate moans became gritted grunts of near discomfort. Amelia's hand lightly pushed against Tonks's head, almost as if to say she wanted her to stop, but without enough conviction to actually halt the intense bliss. Tonks knew exactly what she was doing and wrapped her hands around Amelia's hips, holding the woman in place so as to stop her from pulling back. The woman's cock spasmed and twitched deep within her, suddenly pulsating as the pleasure began to mount. It didn't take long for Amelia's moans to increase in intensity, her lips parting as her eyes rolled closed. Hollow breaths of ecstasy rushed from between her lips as the unfamiliar feeling of an orgasm rushed through her body. She had forgotten the heaven that an orgasm could bring, and her moans were a thing of wonder to say the least. Her squeals and childish squeaks of delight were tantalising, as her cock erupted like a cannon in Tonks throat, spilling a thick and copious load deep into Tonks' gullet. Even spasm sent more cum into Tonks' mouth, the woman diligently swallowing it, taking every last drop as Amelia's body twitched in place. Her orgasm seemed to last for ever, but eventually, Amelia collapsed backwards, her breath heavy and ragged, her cock softening in Tonks' throat. With a satisfied smirk, the metamorphmagus pulled back, rising above the water and reverting her body back to its usual way, shirking the gills and her tailored throat.

"I… I should have expected that from you… Given your indulgence in using your powers flippantly," Amelia chuckled through hoarse and deep breaths. Her eyes looked up at Tonks, running across her water-drenched figure. Tonks had an eye for the perverse and her body reflected that. Her breasts were perfect for her frame, almost hand-sculpted to hang perfectly. The roundness of her hips and the deceptively pert ass cheeks were a thing of beauty.

"You'd describe that as flippantly? That's a first. I've had intense, heavenly… otherworldly. Never flippantly," Tonks giggled, briefly recalling the instances in which she used her throat like that. Needless to say, it was a popular trick across the board.

"You know what I mean," Amelia smiled, leaning forwards, her body still thrumming with a strange tingle. It was as if she was still processing the pleasure. Seeing Tonks' throbbing cock eagerly anticipating a returned favour, Amelia said, "I fear I'll be a poor alternative. It's been a while since I've sucked a cock,"

"Sucked a cock! I never thought I'd hear the day when Madam Amelia Bones talked about sucking a cock," Tonks snorted, finding yet another reason to commit this moment committing to memory. However, she had her mind thinking about other alternatives, "Then again, there are other ways…"

"It's been even longer since I've done that either… But it could be fun…" Amelia commented, quickly picking up on Tonks' suggestion. The idea of being fucked was utterly alien to her, yet she felt a quivering excitement nonetheless. Perhaps the intensity of her first orgasm had served to prime her for this. Maybe that was Tonks' intention. Nonetheless, it all led to Amelia standing up, water cascading over her body, her softened cock flopping between her legs. She then asked rather flippantly, "What position would you like me in?"

"Oh, you're going to make me choose? I need you to know that this doesn't reflect my thoughts on you in any professional capacity and is simple physical…" Tonks breathed, bracing herself for making the decision. Amelia smirked at the woman's clarification, with Tonks' apprehension about positioning her superior making Amelia all the more interested to know; just what position did Tonks imagine fucking her in. It would certainly cast those unassuming stares from in the office in a new light. Tentatively, Tonks confessed, "From behind…"

"I see… I'll do my best to ensure that doesn't affect out professional operations," Amelia smirked in a strangely alluring way. The way she spoke in that moment sent a shiver through Tonks' cock and told the purple-haired woman that there was definitely a time when Amelia was a sultry, perverse minx. Slowly, Amelia turned around, lifting one knee onto the side of the bath-tub as she bent over at the waist, pushing her arse outwards from Tonks to ogle and savour.

"Oh, that is a view…" Tonks breathed, admiring the soft curves and visibly soft plumpness of her rear end. It was an exquisite sight to say the least, one that brought Tonks' hand down to her cock, her hand gently stroking back and forth, ogling the subtle details of the woman's rear end. Casting a look over her shoulder, Amelia raised an eyebrow as if to prompt Tonks into action.

Stepping swiftly forwards, Tonks shifted into place behind Amelia, hesitantly sinking a hand into the woman's ass cheek. Even though she had previously choked on Amelia's cock, it still felt like a step too far to lay her hands on her boss' arse. Regardless, she did so, spreading her cheeks apart to reveal her tight hole. It definitely looked like it hadn't been fucked in a long time, with Tonks slipping a saliva slickened finger down to the woman's entrance in order to lightly tease it and ready her for the first plunge of her cock. Running her finger back and forth across the entrance, Tonks eventually managed to push past her ring, sinking her finger deep into Amelia's hole. Both of them moaned in unison; Amelia from the pleasure of being penetrated and Tonks in anticipation of her cock being pushed inside such a tight hole. Easing her finger all the way up to the knuckle, Tonks quickly began to make some changes. Shrinking her cock to a more amenable size, she ensured that even thought Amelia's ass was tight, she would still be able to be fucked rather swiftly. Using her other hand, she lathered her adjusted cock in saliva. Whilst the water would make it easier, saliva would work even better. Doing everything she could to get Amelia ready, Tonks pulled her finger back, plucking it out of Amelia's asshole. Immediately, her hole coiled back up, tightening to its usual state and sending shivers of excitement through Tonks' body. It was rare that anyone in the magical world got to fuck such a tight asshole. Given the proclivity of sex in society, most people were active from a young age, meaning that their holes could easily accommodate cocks. To have a hole as tight as Amelia's, you either had to be a complete virgin, or you purposefully resisted having sex as often as most people did. As such, Tonks was quite giddy at the prospect. There was also something erotically alluring about being in some way more experienced than her boss. Whilst Tonks definitely didn't feel like the dominant one in the situation, she did feel like the more knowledgeable one, which in turn had its own salacious sense of satisfaction in relation to Amelia. Brushing those thoughts aside, Tonks grabbed her cock by the base and brought it forwards, ready to fuck Amelia.

As she pressed the tip against Amelia's tightened entrance, she felt the older woman reach a hand behind herself, planting it on Tonks' hip. Slowly easing the tip forwards, she probed Amelia's entrance, using the woman's hand as a means to gauge her readiness for more. With a little back and forth, Tonks managed to wriggle the head inside, with Amelia's asshole rolling over the thick shaft. Breathing inwards, both of them let out dull moans of pleasure. Hesitating a little as Amelia pushed against her, Tonks began to tentatively ease herself forwards, biting her lip as the salacious pleasure of Amelia's tight hole began to flood her senses. Inch by inch, her cock carved into Amelia's ass, with Tonks rapidly bottoming out from the smaller length. Pressing her neatly shaven crotch against Amelia's ass cheeks, Tonks gave Amelia a moment to adjust. Smiling softly, Amelia was silently thankful for Tonks' conscientious adjustment of her size. In truth, Tonks presented herself with a rather large cock, so seeing the thick length swinging like a club between the woman's thighs gave Amelia a degree of trepidation. However, the modest cock was not only pleasurable, but manageable. As the dull ache of her stretched ass subsided, Amelia began to push Tonks backwards with her hand, encouraging the woman to start thrust. Taking the hint, she began to bounce back and forth, lightly fucking Amelia's ass with slow and purposeful thrusts. There was no slapping of flesh as Tonks instead pushed firmly into Amelia's ass cheeks, doing her best to get as deep into the woman as possible as opposed to slam into her as hard as possible. Minute by minute of slow, yet intensely pleasurable thrusts, passed and soon Amelia could feel her cock throbbing between her own thighs. Each thrust and push against her prostate milked more pleasure from her already pleasure-addled body, causing her cock to slightly harden. It didn't rise to full mast, but became rigid enough that Amelia dropped the hand on Tonks' hip and began to gently squeeze her dick, confident that a second orgasm was not only possible, but on the way.

Taking Amelia's hand moving away as a sign to increase her intensity, Tonks began to thrust that little bit harder, testing the waters and finally making good use of their water slickened bodies. That first smacking sound that filled the room when Tonks' crotch collided with Amelia's juicy arse was exquisite. Grunting at first, Amelia was about to plead with Tonks to slow down, yet the delayed wave of pleasure curbed her tongue. Thrust after thrust, she found her prostate hummed more intensely with pleasure, filling her body with delicious quivering delight. Her cock milked pre-cum into her already slickened hand, her breasts lightly bouncing beneath her, the wet flesh gently slapping in unison with the sound of her slapping ass cheeks. Breathing heavily, Tonks grew bolder with each thrust. What began as a nervous uncertainty as to the appropriateness of groping her boss's ass, quickly turned into avid and uncontrollable obsession with the round plumpness of the woman's rear end. Sinking her hands into each cheek, Tonks groped and pulled at the flesh, leaving red-handprints in her creamy rear from the sheet firmness of her grip. Using that grip to pull Amelia backwards onto her thrusts, Tonks quickly began to feel her balls tightening, each smack of her heavy sack against Amelia's beginning to coax her orgasm into fruition. A part of her wanted to hold off, yet another one saw the round delight of Amelia's ass cheeks as the perfect canvas for a thick and creamy load. As soon as Tonks made that inner realisation, she found herself dead-set on spraying her seed across Amelia's ass as soon as possible. Driving herself forwards faster and harder, she made sure to temper her desire for passion with Amelia's relative inexperience, constantly looking to the woman for approval as to whether or not her jamming thrust was to powerful. The constant drip-feed of moans was enough to keep Tonks happily pumping away at the woman's ass, thrusting deep and fast into the woman's hole. A part of Tonks wanted to see just how far Amelia could go by slowly increasing the size of her cock, yet Amelia was so tight that even the slightest inflation of her size would be immediately noticeable. Not to mention, it would probably ache immensely. As such, she continued as she was, the delight of an orgasm on the horizon.

It didn't take long until Amelia's cock spasmed once again in her hand. The orgasm itself was satisfying even if her cumshot wasn't. The few beads of cum she had left leaked over her fingers, her cock throbbing intensely in her palm. Her moans increased for a few seconds, before quickly subsiding, leaving the stage clear for Tonks' orgasm. Feeling Amelia tighten around her cock, Tonks knew there was no point holding back. Pulling her cock from Amelia's ass, she thrust it between her plump cheeks, the friction of her soft flesh being enough to bring her orgasm out in full force. Several long strands of cum poured from her cock, splashing across Amelia's ass and lower back in an delectable spread. Moaning happily as she squeezed Amelia's cheeks around her cock, Tonks pumped back and forth a few last times, milking the final couple strands from her tip, and finishing her diligent work. Streaks of cum added to the glossy shimmer of Amelia's body, making the rear view of her all the more attractive. Breathless and exhausted, the two lingered in place a moment, collecting themselves.

"I suppose, with that, we ought to get dressed and return downstairs…" Amelia breathed, slumping into the water for a few seconds, wiping away the cum that was doused across her ass and thighs. Once that was done, she clambered out of the bath, leaving Tonks in her wake. Grabbing a towel, she began to dry herself, commenting, "This was… this was rather pleasant."

"That's one way of putting it," Tonks replied, looking at Amelia, a thought crossing her mind, "You know what I said about outside this room being all doom and gloom? Perhaps… Maybe… That could be changed. I mean, this manor and party is separated from the true horror of the world. It's a retreat if anything."

"Your point?" Amelia asked, turning on the spot as Tonks clambered out of the bath, her cock slowly returning to its normal size, the slow thickening of the woman's cock attracted Amelia's delectable attention. It was enthralling to see it in action.

"That perhaps we should use this entire event as a means of relaxing escape. A proverbial bath. The manor is big and Apolline is quite the sexual deviant. No doubt we could find some quite interesting stuff. Come on… This is an opportunity like no other. No one here will judge you for wanting an evening of sexual escape. We can lavish ourselves today and go back to professional world politics tomorrow," Tonks suggested, doing her best to coax Amelia into submitting to the salacious frivolity of the event. It was a thinly disguised sex party and by committing to that, they could relish in its flippant delight, removed from the world. Smirking, Tonks added as she closed the distance between Amelia and herself, their breath intermingling, "Besides… You still owe me an orgasm."

"I… I disagree in many different ways to everything you just said… But…" Amelia began, her heart racing as her thoughts rushed back and forth, crashing against one another and losing themselves in the maelstrom of thought. This had been her mind for the past few weeks. Chaos. Yet… the reprieve she felt in that bath, in being bent over. It silenced it all. Crossing to the door, Amelia hesitated, looking back at her discarded underwear. Taking a deep breath, she fought her own chaotic thoughts and stepped forwards. As soon as she entered the corridor in complete nudity, the facile sexual nature of this gathering became clear. As did her thoughts. Turning back to Tonks, she said with a coy, alluring grin, "Left or right?"

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"Erm, hello?" Mrs Granger called out uncertainly, her eyes adjusting the transparent figure floating in the centre of the room. Her heart was racing wildly as she realised who she was paired with. In truth, Mrs Granger was exceptionally nervous about being paired up with anyone, with almost everyone in attendance being a complete stranger, however, she hadn't even considered that she would be paired up with one of the more unconventional attendees. So, it was a surprise to see the tall, elegant woman, clad in a long flowing dress, hovering in the air, her body wispy and translucent.

"Oh… Hello…" the figure replied, turning suddenly, her movements floaty and airy. Much to Mrs Granger's surprise, the ghostly figure appeared just as shocked to see her as she was. There was a moments silence between the two of them, neither quite certain how best to approach the situation.

"I'm Lianne Granger… It's… It's nice to meet you," Mrs Granger smiled, introducing herself as she fidgeted with her hands. She had to stop herself from instinctively extending a hand to shake the ethereal figure's, assuming that such a gesture would be inappropriate if not offensive.

"They call me the Grey Lady. I don't think I've heard of you before," The Grey Lady spoke, her words bearing a strangely resonant tone to them. It was almost as if they were echoing as they passed softly from her lips. She remained in place, eyeing Mrs Granger up as the muggle shifted nervously in place. It was astounding how she could be so sexually confident in her own world of salacious perversion, yet the moment she was placed in the world of magical sex, she felt completely out of her depth. A fact exemplified by the fact she was to fuck a ghost.

"I don't think you would have. I'm… I'm don't exactly frequent these circles. I'm er… the mother of one of the students," Mrs Granger continued, fumbling a little as she did her best to make small-talk, all the while running through the logistical issues of having sex with a ghost. Her mind imagined what lay beneath that flowing dress, all before she wondered if the dress could even be removed. Were the clothes a separate entity to the ghostly figure or were they encompassed entirely in the complete figure of the ghost.

"I see…" The Grey Lady spoke, not one for words. In truth, she felt rather unnerved by being here. The notion of sex was one she had long abandoned as a ghost. In life, she had been suitably sexually active and beyond a few furtive experiences when she first became a ghost, she hadn't pursued sex.

"Erm… So…" Mrs Granger began, bowing her head nervously, her thoughts running rampant. It got to the point where she finally snapped and voiced her concerns, desperate to know what exactly sex with a ghost involved, "I'm sorry, I must be honest. I've never met a ghost before, and I certainly haven't been intimate with one. Please excuse me if its improper of me, but… How does this work?"

"It's much the same as regular sexual intercourse," The Grey Lady explained, her expression unchanging. The passive ambivalence she held towards Mrs Granger was rather striking, to the point that Mrs Granger was unsure as to the effect her words were having. She didn't know if she was offending the woman or what. It was unnerving to say the least. Her expression didn't soften in the slightest and if anything, she was hardly interested in the physical woman standing in front of her.

"But… do you have… I mean… Is it a physical thing? Surely as a ghost, it's more… incorporeal?" Mrs Granger asked, trying to crack the ghost's façade and find some measure of common ground. Struggling, she slumped down onto a nearby chair and once again apologised, fretful that she had said something improper, "I don't mean to offend, but we don't have ghosts in the muggle world."

"Muggle world? You aren't a witch?" The Grey Lady said, her eyebrow raising as she looked down at Mrs Granger. Seeing that slight change on the ghost's face, Mrs Granger felt a moment of hope. She also felt a measure of concern that it was her status as a muggle that drew any form of emotional reaction from her. Hermione had briefed her on the distaste some magical folk had towards muggles, so her immediate reaction was that the Grey Lady embodied such a sentiment.

"No… Is that a problem?" Mrs Granger asked, watching the ghost's face for the slightest shift. It was remarkable how inexpressive the ghostly woman was. It was just as frustrating as it was impressive. Continuing to stare at Mrs Granger, the Grey Lady allowed her face to fall, staring wistfully at the floor.

"Not at all… I… It's been long since I have engaged with a muggle," she explained, sinking from her position in the air, dropping down to Mrs Granger's level. Her eyes ventured off, staring into nothingness for a moment, before a soft smile stretched across her pale lips, "It was one of my favourite things before I died. Some condemned my fascination as ignorant. No doubt many muggles saw a witch's anatomy as exotic and unbecoming. Many witches saw my interest in muggles as exactly that. Yet, they were always the most interesting lovers… The most memorable."

"Oh, I see. Well… Perhaps we can relive that…" Mrs Granger suggested, smiling at the Grey Lady, ecstatic that she managed to draw some emotional response from the steely faced woman. In her haste and excitement, she didn't consider her words and quickly realised the improper nature of her remark. Quickly retracting her words, she apologised, "I'm sorry, is relive an inappropriate word to use?"

"I've had a lot worse words used against me. But I think I should enjoy reliving those memories…" The Grey Lady smirked, finding Mrs Granger's conscientious concern to be endearing. Without another word, the Grey Lady unfastened the clasp on her dress. Years as a ghost had softened her sentiments. Where humans relished in small-talk and pre-amble to the affair, she was one to do what she desired when it occurred to her. Such was the fortune of a ghost. Nothing held her back in many respects, so she felt little reason to remain clothed as they ventured nearer and nearer to the inevitable sexual interaction. Her dress fell away swiftly, dropping to the ground to reveal her naked body, the features subtle and ever ethereal. Mrs Granger stared in awe at the woman, remarking in her figure. The strange thing was that it appeared as if the Grey Lady existed in a incorporeal world of her own. She was able to affect her own body as exemplified by the woman lightly squeezing one of her breasts and showing that it was malleable to her own grasp. The very concept of a naked ghost was so enthralling to Mrs Granger that she briefly overlooked the woman's actual physical attributes. She was well-endowed in most sexual capacities. Her ass had a nice roundness to it and whilst she couldn't comment on its soft plumpness, it had a most appealing curve. She could attest to the soft squishiness of her breasts as Mrs Granger had avidly watched that brief innocuous squeeze that the Lady gave herself. It was almost a torturous joke to the muggle that she could squeeze and salivate over those round puffy nipples. However, it was the woman's cock that took her most by surprise. It was thick. Remarkably so. And delightfully long. It was almost comparable to Hermione's. Mrs Granger had long thought that her daughter simply happened to be rather fortuitously endowed, yet after seeing The Grey Lady's cock and the considerable bulges in the panties of the other witches in attendance, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps large cocks were a given in the magical world. If so, Mrs Granger couldn't help but think she was born into the wrong society.

"My… You are… are very beautiful…" Mrs Granger breathed softly, enamoured by the strange sight. The ghostly shimmer seemed to only add to the delight. Perhaps it was the allure of the exotic that The Grey Lady previously described. Or maybe it simply accentuated the woman naturally preserved figure.

"As are you…" The Grey Lady smiled, lunging suddenly forwards at an inhuman speed. Within a fraction of a second, her face was lingering right up against Mrs Granger's, taking the muggle by surprise. Startled, she froze in place, feeling a cold aura emanating from the pale figure.

"Oh my…" Mrs Granger breathed as the Lady's lips hovered closer to her own. Kissing a ghost… The mere thought almost made her giggle. Yet, as the Lady pressed her lips softly against hers, Mrs Granger felt a barrage of strange sensations. The coldness of the woman was undeniable, yet it was made up for by the sensation of her lips. As a ghost, the kiss had no tension. Their lips didn't push against one another and the satisfaction of an intimate embrace was lost. However, the feeling of her lips resting against her own sent chills through Mrs Granger's body. She couldn't describe why it excited her so much, but her heart raced. The way the Lady's lips seemed to push past her own, igniting her nerves in ways that were physically impossible for a human to do so. It was enchanting. In the end, Mrs Granger chocked the thill down to the newness of the feeling. However, the warm thrum between her thighs and her rapidly slickening pussy betrayed the true reason for the excitement. In truth, the prospect the cold, tingling sensation brought about by the Lady's lips being brought down between her thighs gave Mrs Granger the rush of excitement she was feeling. Her hand lifted itself up and brushed against the Lady's cheek, revelling in the strange feeling of her skin. As their lips pulled away, Mrs Granger found her breath catching in her throat, her cheeks blushing as she licked her lips, "My clothes are getting a little tight…"

"I'm afraid you'll have to sort that yourself…" the Lady giggled, the sound of her laughter taking both of them by surprise. As the Lady pulled back, she turned her head away in contemplation. Such a giddy reaction was unbecoming of her. Her mournful cries were a thing of legend at Hogwarts. And yet… that giggle… She hadn't giggled in years. She hadn't even laughed in years. Her thought was interrupted as Mrs Granger spoke, blushing softly as she once again apologised for her improper words.

"Of course. Apologies," Mrs Granger said, rising to her feet and beginning to unfasten her lingerie. A part of why she adored lingerie was always in the slow stripping away of lacy garments, done amidst a heated embrace of scintillating passion. She enjoyed stripping away someone else's underwear, peeling it off to unveil their body. It seemed a waste that she had decked herself in such garments only to have to remove them herself. Regardless, she stripped away her bra, allowing her breasts to spring free, the woman unconsciously performing that same squeeze that the Lady did to herself. That squeeze, similar ignited a frustration in the Grey Lady. Just as Mrs Granger couldn't savour the pliability of the ghost's body, she couldn't delight in Mrs Granger's. It was a strange thing to say the least. However, The Grey Lady's thoughts were quickly occupied with other things as Mrs Granger dropped her panties and unveiled the delicate slit between her thighs, a neatly trimmed line of brown hair trailing up from her folds. It had been centuries since she had seen a pussy, and whilst it had been a long time, she had even occupied her thoughts with one, she found herself utterly taken by the delicate sight of such slick folds. Seeing the Lady's lustful stares, Mrs Granger stood in place, flaunting her anatomy, recalling how Hermione said that her pussy would undoubtedly appear as one of the most abnormal things at the party. She thought it strange that her cunt would be unusual, especially when she was stood next to a ghostly apparition. Nonetheless, she brushed the thought aside and said, "I'm not entirely certain how best to continue."

"I… Perhaps if you were to lay down," The Grey Lady suggested, floating to the side and gesturing to the sofa. Not knowing of a better way, Mrs Granger was quick to do as instructed, draping herself over the sofa and looking expectantly up at the ghost. Pausing for a moment, the Lady added, "As unbecoming a position as it is, perhaps it would be fitting for me to sit astride your face so as we may both pleasure one another."

"Oh? A sixty-nine? There's nothing unbecoming about that! It's practical if anything," Mrs Granger laughed, finding the notion that a sixty-nine was unbecoming to be hilarious. It was only in this moment that Mrs Granger felt… young. At least in comparison to the Grey Lady. Despite the ghost appearing as old as she was if not slightly younger, it was undeniable that she was older than her appearance let on.

"Sixty-nine? I've never heard it called that," The Grey Lady smiled, uncertain as to how the name fit such an act, yet finding it to be more concise than her means of describing it. Back in her time, despite the need for witches to be sexually satiated, she was considered somewhat radical in her appetites. In modern times, she'd probably appear somewhat conservative in comparison, "Before I died, it was considered improper. Perverse."

"I'd imagine a lot of modern sensibilities would be considered improper back then," Mrs Granger chuckled, sweeping her hair behind her head, getting comfortable for what was about to happen. As the Lady drifted closer to her, Mrs Granger quickly piped up one last time, realising that he initial question regarding how this would work remained unanswered, "Just a quick question. How do I… How do I suck your cock?"

"If you simply part your lips, I shall do the rest," The Grey Lady instructed, thinking that to be the best option. Nodding, Mrs Granger laid back and opened her mouth, stifling the giggle that came as a result of the realisation she appeared more like a patient in her dentist's office than a woman about to engage in sex. Still, she waited patiently as the Grey Lady lifted into the air, effortlessly readjusting herself to be horizontal, suggesting that ghosts could comfortably exist at any angle. Slowly, the Lady descended down, her body pushing cold air downwards alongside her, the chill rushing across Mrs Granger's body. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt each of the Lady's knees position themselves either side of her head, her ears becoming completely enveloped in the misty haze of the woman's ethereal form. Shivering, she saw the woman's cock throbbing above her, what seemed like a bead of pre-cum gathering at her tip. Suddenly, it dropped from the woman's cock and fell downwards. Expecting it to splash against her breast, Mrs Granger moaned loudly as the droplet coursed straight through her sensitive flesh, sending pleasurable bursts through her body, the droplet cascading through her entire frame and onto the floor below. That simple taste of what was to come gave Mrs Granger a spasm of excitement, one that was only intensified as she felt the Lady's cold breath cascading over her pussy, rushing against her folds. The cock above her remained angled away from her lips, yet as the Lady reached a hand down to readjust her cock, it quickly fell in line with her open mouth, with a single thrust being all that remained until Mrs Granger experienced a ghostly blowjob.

Slowly, the Grey Lady sawed her hips downwards, pushing her cock towards the open lips of Mrs Granger. As soon as the tip pushed inside of the woman's mouth, both of the moaned in pleasure. It was a strange sensation to say the least, yet Mrs Granger relished it. The cock pushed into her mouth, yet seemingly cared little for her lips. It felt like she couldn't stretch her lips wide enough even if she wanted to, yet the cock pushed into her mouth regardless, ignoring her lips entirely. The Grey Lady hummed softly, embracing the warm wetness of the woman's mouth. There was something undoubtedly satisfying about sheathing her ghostly cock inside of someone. Even the accidental instances where someone walked through her were fraught with the brief moments of ignited pleasure as her cock passed through the warmth of someone else. Yet, thrusting into Mrs Granger's lips had a carnal element of satisfaction to it. The simple sexual nature of the act made it more satisfying. Pushing downwards, she eased her cock into Mrs Granger's throat, her shaft not following the natural curve of the woman's gullet and slipping out of the confines of her actual throat. The sensation was much the same for the Grey Lady; an all-encompassing pleasurable warmth, combined with a delicious wetness and thrum of Mrs Granger's body. But for muggle, it was utterly bizarre. Feeling that cold chill pass out with of her throat and push into the flesh of her body, froze her in such a strange way, with the chill running through her nerves. She couldn't describe it a sexually pleasurable, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. The satisfaction she found in sucking a cock was completely and utterly lost. There was no throb or satisfying give to the Grey Lady's cock. However, as the ghost began to rock her hips back and forth, lightly fucking the woman's throat, she did in fact find a salacious erotic satisfaction to the act. Especially when coupled with the Lady's movements between her thighs.

Instinctively spreading her legs so as to give access to her pussy, Mrs Granger swiftly and suddenly discovered the bliss of ghostly sex. And it all came about as a result of a simple fleeting kiss against her dripping wet folds. Her pussy was incredibly sensitive as it was, the freezing cold touch of her lips was utterly scintillating. It was like an ice-cube rushing against her folds, yet it lacked the physical rigidity. Then her tongue lunged forwards. That first brush of the Lady's tongue was heavenly. Feeling it run along the cleft of her folds filled Mrs Granger's body with pleasure, her back forcibly arching as her pussy dripped. The warmth that she associated with sex was completely flipped on its head, with the cold chill acting taking the pleasure to the complete opposite spectrum. There was then the fact that the Lady's tongue wasn't bound by physical limitations, meaning that should casually and effortlessly reach those sensitive little spots that required someone to normally lap at her folds until they peeled steadily outwards. Ducking and weaving her tongue, the Lady quickly abandoned what she would call her natural instinct. Back when she was alive, her tongue was a thing of wonder, exploring and driving amidst any woman's folds. Yet, now, she was unable to carve along her slit and instead opted to simply move her tongue in relation to the squeals and moans that escaped Mrs Granger's mouth. If her tongue brushing across a particular fold elicited a strong pleasurable reaction, then she would focus on that for a few moments, flicking her tongue back and forth rapidly, savouring the exquisite grunts and squeals that escaped the woman's lips. Maintaining her slow and steady thrusts into Mrs Granger's throat, she lapped hungrily at the woman's folds, all the while memorising the sight of the muggle's pussy.

Licking Mrs Granger's cunt was both a delight and an unending frustration. On one hand, the shimmering glossy folds were an enchanting sight that the Lady had long since missed. The muggle woman's form was a delicate and salacious one and to see that exhibited so alluringly in Mrs Granger was a true delight. However, her tongue couldn't peel those folds apart. Her fingers could run circles across the woman's clit. She couldn't delve amidst those folds and explore their subtleties. Instead, she was forced to simply see Mrs Granger's pussy as it was. Admittedly, the stimulation of her tongue weaving across those folds were slowly coaxing them to naturally spread, yet it was not the true satisfaction that she once knew. Perhaps the most torturous aspect was the taste. She could no longer savour the heavenly taste of a woman. Just as Mrs Granger silently winced at each wasted drop of pre-cum that dripped through her body, the Grey Lady mourned the shimmer and dripping wet gloss of Mrs Granger's pussy. She was wetter than could be imagined, with her arousal beading and running along her thighs. Unlike with normal oral sex, that sweet nectar wasn't being licked away throughout, meaning that it was building atop itself, drenching her pussy into a slick and dripping wet mess of pink flesh. And the Lady was forced to taste it only in memory. That sweetness that she once delighted in and cherish was running across her tongue yet was failing to register as a sense. She could taste it in her mind, yet she was denied that physical satisfying flavour. It almost made her want to scream. Water everywhere, yet not a drop to drink. Regardless, she brushed such thoughts aside. As frustrating as it was, this was a situation to savour. This was the first muggle she had bedded since she died, and it was fruitless to mourn that which she couldn't relish when there was plenty to actually enjoy. Reaffirming her efforts, the Lady committed to making Mrs Granger scream in pure ecstasy, no matter what.

With that as her goal, the Grey Lady brought one hand towards the muggle's pussy. Slowly, she angled two fingers towards where she estimated the woman's entrance was and effortlessly eased them forwards. The digits carved past Mrs Granger's pussy lips and dipped deep inside of her. The groans of pleasure that erupted from her lips were a testament to just how incredible the pleasure was. Thrusting through nerve after nerve, the icy fingers poured countless reams of pleasure out across Mrs Granger's body, the woman's back arching even further causing her nipples to lightly brush against the Grey Lady's stomach, adding the pleasure she was feeling. It took little time for Mrs Granger to let out a squeal of pleasure, her pussy spasming and tightening wildly, an orgasm rushing through her body. The warmth of that raging orgasm and the increasing heat of her body made the delectable chill of the Lady's fingers sawing back and forth between her slick folds all the more delightful. Adding a second finger, the Lady finally managed to elicit that scream of pleasure as she pressed a finger down against Mrs Granger's clit. Over-estimating its location, what the Lady intended to be a casual rub was actual a complete occlusion of her sensitive bead, meaning that the entirety of the nub was encased in the Lady's digit. What would have been an exquisite sensation was made overbearingly brilliant by having every aspect of her clit that could possibly be pleasured, actual be pleasured. Writhing beneath the ghost, Mrs Granger struggled to find the ability to voice such pleasures, yet her quivering lips eventually managed to force them out. She had long since given up holding her mouth open, given that the Lady didn't even notice her close them. As such, she simply lay there, basking in the most intense barrage of pleasure she had ever had the good fortune of experiencing. It seemed that every mounting delight was followed by a further escalation, increasing the heavenly bliss with yet another step into the unfathomably pleasurable. Needless to say, that first orgasm was going to be one of many.

As she recuperated from the first explosion of pleasure, Mrs Granger found herself growing somewhat restless. Whilst she certainly wasn't averse to laying back and being serviced -her personal fantasies that she explored with her husband were testament to that dynamic-, she thought that this situation in particular didn't justify her inaction. As such, she searched for a way to add to the pleasure the Lady was experiencing. She thought about massaging the woman's balls, yet that was an uncomfortable angle that she struggled to get without plunging her hand through the Lady's stomach and coming from behind. As such, that left only one possibility. A possibility she had learnt from pleasuring her own daughter. Over the countless times she had gorged herself on Hermione's cock, she had discovered her daughter's enjoyment of having her ass toyed with; an enjoyment, Mrs Granger would learn, that her husband also shared. Figuring that it may be a somewhat universal sentiment, she thought why not do her best to provide such a pleasure here. Tentatively, she reached a hand up and curved it around behind the Lady's ass. Given that she couldn't spread the ghost's admittedly juicy cheeks, she had to make an estimated guess as to where her asshole was. Throwing caution to the wind, she plunged two fingers forwards, sinking them past the Lady's ass cheeks and deep into her clutching hole. The ghost's movements suddenly stopped, the woman freezing in place. Worried she had misjudged the Lady's tastes, Mrs Granger prepared to apologise, only to hear the lady moan a deep, guttural moan of satisfaction, her lips parted in a salacious ecstasy. Much to Mrs Granger's surprise, the Lady didn't stop her or reprimand her, but instead groaned in a low voice, "A little to the left…"

With that, Mrs Granger adjusted her position, shifting her fingers to the left prompting a low growl of pleasure from the Lady as her fingers slipped inside of the ghost's prostate. Remaining in place, the two savoured the moment before the Lady began to lightly thrust back and forth, her thrusts a little slower and shorter to accommodate the pleasure now derived from her asshole. Despite her endeavour to be more proactive, Mrs Granger found herself now simply holding her fingers where they were and allowing the Grey Lady to do the rest. Ultimately, the lack of give in the way their bodies interacted made more active sexual activities incredibly difficult. Even something as simple as massaging the other person was a tricky endeavour. Regardless, they did their best, savouring the sheer intensity their admittedly clumsy set-up allowed for. Moans filled the room, with the Grey Lady slowly growing louder and allowing the sounds of her pleasure to fill the room. The feeling of having her prostate pushed against was similar to Mrs Granger and her clit, with the two feeling much of the same pleasure albeit on complete opposite sides of spectrum. Where Mrs Granger felt the cold chill of the Lady's fingers, the Lady felt the encompassing heat of Mrs Granger's. It made for an interesting and infinitely pleasurable situation. However, as the pleasure continued, both were becoming increasingly numb to the sensations. In the same way that a hand goes numb when thrust into a bath of ice water, the once tender flesh of Mrs Granger's pussy was beginning to lack the same exquisite pleasure. It was still heavenly, yet it was noticeably less intense than before. Not to mention her arm was beginning to ache from its current position hovering above her. With a second orgasm on the horizon, Mrs Granger couldn't help but wonder if a change of either position or perhaps sex-act would make for a necessary spice-up. Fortunately for her, the Grey Lady was of a similar mind, with her cock hungering for a change of environment. Not to mention, she was lusting in particular for the personal satisfaction of once again penetrating a tight, wet pussy.

"What position are you most comfortable in?" the Lady asked, lifting herself up and swiftly reorienting herself so that she was standing upright. It took a moment for Mrs Granger's pleasure-addled mind to realise what was being said, but she swiftly and excitedly responded.

"I'm quite fond of riding a cock, but that probably won't work for this… Doggy?" Mrs Granger suggested, at first keen to ride a cock, but figuring that it would strain her knees unendingly to do so. With cowgirl out of the picture, the next best alternative was a hard fucking from behind.

"Doggy?" The Grey Lady asked, confused by her words once again, further emphasising their peculiar generational divide. Rolling onto her knees, Mrs Granger bent over the end of the sofa, proudly presenting her shapely rear end to the ghost. Seeing that, she quickly caught onto what the muggle meant, giggling once again to herself before saying, "Ah… After this, you'll have to teach me this modern terminology."

"It would be my…" Mrs Granger began, only to have her words robbed from her as the Lady leapt forwards, thrusting herself suddenly into the muggle's pussy. Mrs Granger's eyes rolled back into her head as the sensation stole any ability to think straight from her, her lips falling open with a soft groan, "Pleasure…"

It wasn't a massively new sensation as it was the same cold tingling, yet the shape of the Lady's cock made for a unique feeling. With the cock sheathed entirely inside her, Mrs Granger grunted. Instead of her pussy being stretched slightly to accommodate the cock, her cunt remained unchanged, with the shaft carving beyond the confines of her hole, stretching into her belly somewhat. It was an uneasy feeling that was mired with immense pleasure, however, she didn't have long to adjust to it as the Lady began to thrust back and forth, pumping her cock with slow and fluid motions, driving as far forwards as she could so as to savour the clutching warmth of the muggle's body. Their moans were the only sounds. Despite the Lady thrusting rather powerfully into Mrs Granger's pussy, she remained in place, the usual wet slapping sound that impact of flesh against flesh not occurring. It gave the room a strange eerie quality, a quality that was lost on the two of them as they simply relished the pleasure, they were both feeling. Biting her lip, Mrs Granger dipped a hand down to her pussy, lightly teasing her clit. It wasn't that she needed any additional pleasure, but rather she needed something that stood in contrast to the seemingly overwhelming chill resonating through her pussy. Her nipples were stood hardened on her breasts, her skin ignited with goosebumps. Moans fell from her lips and she could have sworn there were faint wisps of cold air escaping her own mouth. Perhaps the pleasure was simply getting to her. The Lady stared lustfully at Mrs Granger. The woman had a ripe round ass that begged to be squeezed, yet she was forced to simply admire its curves, unable to squeeze and pull at the tantalisingly juicy flesh; a frustration that the muggle shared.

Perhaps the most interesting feeling Mrs Granger felt was when the Lady's thrust didn't glide through her pussy. Given that there were no physical restrictions to the Lady's cock, each thrust had a tendency to impale Mrs Granger at a slightly different angle. Sometimes, she would push deep inside of the muggle and the thrust would align completely with her pussy. Other times, her cock would shift higher or lower. Sometimes, she would plunge deep into Mrs Granger's ass, giving the muggle woman a surge of completely different pleasure as her asshole was penetrated. Other times, the thrust would enter at her pussy, but carve upwards, probing partially into her ass. It was a bizarre roulette wheel of sensations, yet one that Mrs Granger was happy to spin endlessly. The feeling of having her ass penetrated without the stretching ache was to be treasured. Whilst she personally enjoyed the feeling of her hole stretching, it was an experience nonetheless to have her ass impaled without the associated pain. Thrust after thrust brought both of them quivering towards orgasms. Pre-cum beaded and dripped through Mrs Granger's body, the odd droplet catching against her folds or clit, adding a unique pleasure to an already scintillatingly diverse experience. Plunge after plunge brought Mrs Granger towards a second release. Before she knew it, her pussy was once again tightening, her arousal quite literally dripping along her thighs, her legs a mess of slickness as a result of the pleasure. Her legs were starting to ache a little, her knees quivering somewhat. The second orgasm was just as intense as the first yet was lost on the Lady whose only indication of said orgasm was the sharp increase in Mrs Granger's moans. Proud that she had brought the woman to orgasm twice, the Grey Lady turned her attentions towards her own orgasm.

Despite having not had an orgasm in centuries, the familiarity of the rising sensation was unmistakable. Out of pure instinct, The Grey Lady pulled back, plucking her cock from Mrs Granger's pussy as if it was entirely necessary. Grabbing her own cock, she jerked it a few times, pulling her foreskin back and forth until the first spurt of cum erupted from her tip. The explosive nature of her pent-up orgasm was remarkable, with the first strand reaching all the way along Mrs Granger's body, with the farthest splatter landing past the muggle's head. Startled by the sudden eruption, she felt the strands of cum land across her body and sink effortlessly through her, dropping swiftly to the ground. Several more sprays poured from the Lady's cock, with the ghost milking herself dry amidst wailing squeals of pleasure. The satisfaction was utterly encompassing, and the ghost felt her legs beginning to go numb; a sensation that had long since disappeared in her ghostly existence. A minute passed before the cumshot subsided, with the last droplets leaking from her cock and clinging to her hand. Slumping backwards, the Lady almost dropped to floor, her mind too clouded to keep herself suspended. Catching herself before she did so, she let increasingly laboured breaths escape her lips. Rolling onto her back, Mrs Granger relaxed, savouring the chance to catch her breath and the warm rush of air that washed over her from the nearby fire.

"That live up to your memories?" Mrs Granger smirked, reclining into the sofa. Looking over at the Grey Lady, she was surprised to see the ghost unable to speak, her heavy breaths impeding any attempt to force words out. Giggling, Mrs Granger added, "Never thought I'd get to say I fucked a ghost speechless..."

Silence fell for a few moments as the Grey Lady recuperated. Sliding onto the sofa and feigning a sitting position, the ghost turned towards Mrs Granger, glancing past her to the now unlocked door. A little anxiously, she broke the silence, inquiring about her partner's intentions, in a similar fashion to many other people in the mansion, "I understand there is no obligation for you to remain given the door is now unlocked, however…"

"You'd like to know what other filthy modern words I use to describe sex," Mrs Granger purred erotically, having now found her footing. The Grey Lady felt a tinge in her cheeks; a blush. Unnoticeable to anyone other than herself, she bowed her head and nodded.

"I wouldn't have put it like that, but yes Mrs Granger," the Grey Lady with a similar perverse drawl, mimicking Mrs Granger's modern allure. Turning towards the muggle, the Grey Lady shifted along the sofa, steadily advancing on the woman with a salacious understated smirk on her face. Bringing her lips closer to Mrs Granger's, the ghost said with a low, sultry tone, sending shivers along the muggle's spine as she did so, "Talk dirty to me…"

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Standing with his back to the door, Draco found himself unable to fathom why he had decided to partake in what amounted a facile attempt at fostering peace. Ever since taking his place as a Death Eater, he had found himself in a state of disarray, questioning his every decision. Every day, he contemplated the morality of what he was doing. It left him numb in so many ways. The cold oppressive world of the Death Eaters was suffocating. The pressures of his family added weight to every move he made. The need to live up to their expectations and to fall in line with the dark prevailing legacy of the Malfoy Family. Even now, he found those thoughts to remain fixed in his mind. He could barely bring himself to think about anything else. To think about the absurdity of the situation he was in. Even as he stood in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, awaiting a mysterious partner with whom he was supposed to fuck, he couldn't help but feel that pressure. He was expected to fuck this person for the sake of his family. He remembered back to his fourth year; a time when sex seemed so flippant and enjoyable. When he would bend Pansy over and rut away for no other reason that his own satisfaction. Now, even something as delectable as sex seemed tainted by the Dark Lord. It wasn't just highlighted in his current situation. Even at home, his libido had plummeted. What point was there in driving himself balls deep in Pansy when there was so much else to worry about. Needless to say, Draco wasn't looking forward to this. He felt obliged to remain in place, waiting for the door to open, yet he felt not inherent drive of desire. No want to partake in it. Even as he ogled the many scantily clad women downstairs, he couldn't muster any attention or lust towards any of them. If anything, he just wanted all of this to be over. With that in mind, he gritted his teeth and prepared to do the bare minimum to fulfil Apolline's perverse magical requirements.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the door open. As he turned, he didn't know what he expected. He didn't even know who he hoped would be there. He could list all the people he didn't want to appear, yet none came to mind that he would actually enjoy. However, he was surprised as he saw the flowing blonde locks of an all too familiar face stepping into the room. Clad in her pale blue lingerie, her buxom body perfectly accentuated, Draco brought his eyes up to meet the perfectly sculpted features of Fleur Delacour, "Bonjour, mon ami… I 'ope I did not keep you waiting…"

"No. You didn't," Draco said coldly, breathing steadily as he looked Fleur. His eyes instinctively followed her curves, tracing the bulge of her chest and the roundness of her hips. He remembered her figure fondly. His fourth year had been fraught with fantasies about her. Even the passing thought of her supple body was enough to get his cock quivering and throbbing for attention. But now… Seeing her dressed in the tightest of lingerie, with more of her body on show than not… his cock didn't react at all.

"Not one for small talk? No matter. We can get started if you like?" Fleur suggested, taking a step forwards, her boobs bouncing with her movement, her bra barely holding them back. Crossing over to Draco, she closed the distance between them, bringing their bodies within touching distance of one another. She didn't know much of the boy, but he certainly wasn't all too unappealing. His cold demeanour and distant look needed work, yet it wasn't nothing a little personable intimacy couldn't change.

"Bend over then," Draco ordered, gesturing to the nearby sofa. Her offer of getting directly into it was a welcome one, yet he misinterpreted her offer. She laughed at the brashness of his words, the crude direction he gave her. It was almost entitled.

"Oh, so forward. So presumptuous," Fleur giggled, not sure if he was being serious. She had never met a man who was so eager to get right down to the main event without at least a little pre-amble. After all, what kind of man would say no to a blowjob of all things.

"I don't take. I want to make that explicitly clear. So, if that's what you expect, you'd best…" Draco began, assuming that her reaction was in response to him implying that she was to take. His words grew a little heated and direct yet lacked the enthusiasm that he would have once defended his preference with.

"Zat's not what I meant. I do not mind taking," Fleur back-peddled, noting the heated frustration lingering in Draco's voice. The tension in his words. It screamed of a man who hadn't orgasmed in a long time. Or rather, properly orgasmed in a long time. Its incredibly easy to cum, but it takes a delicate hand and a little effort to make that orgasm a truly satisfying one. It was that which he seemed to lack.

"Then bend over. Let's get this over with," he reiterated, gesturing to the sofa, expecting her to bend over at command. He paid little attention to the fact that he wasn't even hard. It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive, but rather the prospect of fucking her for a couple minutes all to satiate some facile locking mechanism didn't exactly muster a sense of lust. But he didn't exactly care for the intimate approach either. Wasted time.

"No foreplay? No build-up? No sense of ze moment?" Fleur smirked, stepping closer to Draco, resting a hand on his chest, the warmth of her skin against his giving him a brief flash of excitement. It was short-lived as her sultry voice and attempt at a perverse allure quickly got beneath his skin, "Mon dieu, you must live a very dull life…"

"I don't care for your flashing eye-lashes and sultry words," Draco seethed, brushing her hand to one side, turning away from her. Crossing the room, he tried to put the distance back between them that Fleur had shortened, yet the French woman wasn't one to let up. She certainly wasn't going to commit to the drab encounter that Draco seemingly wanted and definitely wasn't just going to bend over for some half-hearted quickie.

"You have a limited understanding of sex if you think zat zat it all it iz. Sex isn't just ramming it in and having at it. It's everything else zat makes it worthwhile," Fleur purred softly, presenting her case as she followed him, gently poking at the cracks in demeanour, "Where iz your lust for intimacy? For a moment of heated passion?"

"I… I just want to get this over with," Draco said, almost pleading with her. He didn't want some great revelation to come from this situation. He already hated being trapped in a room with someone under these circumstances, and most certainly didn't want his freedom dangled in front of him at the expense of some life-altering conclusion, posited at him by some blonde French bimbo.

"And that iz the attitude zat will lead to an un-satisfying end," Fleur smiled, finally closing the distance once again, this time pressing herself ever closer to him. Slowly, she walked her fingers across his chest, delicately impressing each digit, using the movement to enunciate each of her words, purring softer with each one, "When was the last time you felt your cock explode uncontrollably, pleasure rushing through you without end?

"Just bend over or…" Draco began, trying in vain to come up with some threat that would curb Fleur's insistence on an intimate exchange. Draco ignored the affect she was having on him. He couldn't deny that it was her hot steamy breath against his ear that was getting his cock to stir. Not his want to get this over-with. It was her slowly moving fingers that were coaxing him from his sexually restrained shell.

"Or what?" Fleur continued, her fingers inching every lower, gliding across Draco's stomach, delicately tracing along the lightly toned abs that Quidditch playing had carved upon him. Seeing the conflict on his face beginning to steadily shift, Fleur continued, adding more salaciousness to each of her drawling sentences, her lips inching closer and closer to Draco, promising to soon graze against his sensitive flesh, "Ah, my friend… Relax a little. Indulge in the moment… Savour the sensual…"

"I…" Draco stammered in protest, his cock beginning to harden, the brief flash of pleasure that came from his erection being kindled acting as enough of a means to cloud his judgement. Any erection he had had for the past year had been meaningless. A casual unthinking reaction. As such, he never felt much pleasure or passion as a result of them. Yet… this slow hardening was brought about by a distinctly sultry air. And whilst his brain was fighting vehemently against it for whatever reason, his body was exhibiting the carnal hunger that he had long since forgotten.

"I'm not asking you to bottom. I'm not asking you to kiss me. I'm not asking you to do anything at all. Just… indulge the sensual," Fleur said softly, laying her hand flat against his stomach and inching it downwards, grazing over his crotch, her digits tantalisingly close to his rising bulge. It still wasn't prominent enough for Fleur to notice with her eyes, yet it was getting there. Her lips lowered towards his ear, her hot, sensual breath cascading over him. He swore he could feel her tongue against his skin, yet that was nothing but a subconscious thought. Her tongue was yet to move forth, however, it was certainly planning on. With a soft, final purr, she murmured, "Allow me…"

Those words brought about the first perverse contact between the two. As she said them her lips pressed against Draco's skin, grazing against his neck with a firm kiss. Her hand also committed to a gentle squeeze of Draco's cock, lightly fondling his rising bulge through the fabric of his boxers. A moan escaped Draco's lips; one unlike any he had heard recently. His few masturbation sessions brought about moans, yet never ones as driven as the one he uttered now. Shivering as he heard, his thoughts told him to push her away. That this was a distraction. Yet that moan. It was like the ones he used to make in his days of frivolous sexual forays. In the days of satisfaction. As such, his hands remained limp by his side, allowing Fleur to continue. Her lips pressed against his neck once again, this time firmer and with a flick of her tongue. That brief slick brush elicited another moan from Draco's, his hairs standing on end as she plucked her lips away from a soft sucking sound. Breathless, Draco awaited her next kiss, yet this time it was against his shoulder. Each kiss was paired with squeeze from her hand, each fondle she gave his cock ultimately serving to coax him to a harder state. Another kiss rested on his chest, this one slicker as she hovered, gently biting at his flesh as her fingers nimbly teased his cock. By now, he was almost entirely hardened, his cock leaking pre-cum into the fabric of his boxers, a wet patch beginning to grow from her constant gentle squeezes. It was surprising that such a meek sexual approach was enough to bring about this reaction. Draco remembered how hard Pansy had to work to get him leaking pre-cum like this. If anything, it highlighted the effect the last few years had on him. Regardless, he couldn't deny the satisfaction that it was bringing about, to have his cock tended to like this. To have any reaction like this brought about. As much as his mind battled his body, he found the physicality winning out.

Her next intimate kiss was pressed against Draco's nipple, her lips wrapping around the pink circle. Breathing sharply in, his instinct was to push her away as he had so often done to Pansy, yet as the warm wetness of her mouth enveloped the sensitive nub, he felt a strange compulsion to allow it. Especially as it was paired with Fleur's hand slipping inside his boxers. Her hand didn't even touch his cock, but simply rested flat against his shaven crotch. It was strange how miniscule an action had such an intense affect on his twitching cock. Flicking her tongue across his nipple, Fleur moved her hand downwards, wrapping it around Draco's cock. It was a modestly sized length. Hardly the largest she had had in her sexually prolific life-style, yet it was still an enjoyably girthy size. What surprised her, however, was just how wildly it throbbed in her hand, seemingly pulsating as pre-cum poured wildly from the tip, gleaming across her hand. It was startling, yet she remained coy about it, instead focussing her attention on his nipple. Tracing the tip of her tongue around the tender circle, she lathered it in saliva, coating the pink nub in a thin a delicate layer, all the while relishing the sharp inward breaths and the intense reactions such small movements had. Running her tongue back and forth, she began to abandon her paired movements and instead allowed her hand and tongue to move irrespective of one another. Groping at his cock, Fleur was unable to jerk him off whilst in his boxers. She was able to squeeze and lightly tug at his length, ultimately having a similarly intense effect as if she was jerking him off. It was as if Draco hadn't cum in years. Or rather, hadn't been touched by someone else in years. Or perhaps more specifically, hadn't been touched properly by someone else in years. Happy to oblige a flash of intimacy in the boy's life, she continued to work his cock, her tongue lapping wildly at his nipple, giving him a taste of the talented oral abilities, she boasted and just how intense they would feel when lavished upon his cock. Draco eyes rolled closed, the boy becoming consumed in his own conflicting world of pleasure. Every thought he had told him to stop, whilst every impulse in his body did nothing other than succumb.

Then, Fleur dropped down to her knees. That movement caused Draco to breathe suddenly inwards, his eyes following her down as her lips rested against his stomach. Her hand pulled itself out of his boxers, her fingers hooking onto his boxer-shorts as she stared up at it him through her crystal blue eyes. Slowly, she pulled his boxers down, peeling them over his throbbing bulge, allowing his cock to spring free. Gasping softly as the head of his cock brushed against Fleur's neck, Draco watched, completely enthralled by the sight before him. Breathing gently, he followed Fleur lips as the tenderly traced their way down his body, each kiss coming quicker and quicker, yet closer and closer together in proximity, inching torturously slow down his body. Eventually, her lips pressed against his crotch, her lower lip brushing against the place between the base of his cock met with his crotch. The way her lip simply rested in that place was intense to say the least. It seemed that every subtle detail was infinitely pleasurable and satisfying to Draco, so his eyes and body did everything they could to remain acutely aware of the slightest shift in the way that Fleur moved and where her lips fell upon his body. With clenched fists, he watched as she held her lips In place, almost as if she knew he was waiting for her to press them against his cock. Still she held them there. Resting softly against his crotch, her big, swimming eyes staring up at him. Biting his lip, he almost wanted to grab her head and forcibly press her lips against his cock, yet he held back, knowing full well that that would only result in turmoil. Instead, he allowed her to torture him with her inactivity, the warmth of her breath rushing across his exposed skin.

Instead of moving her lips however, she instead moved her tongue. Lunging her tongue forwards, she flicked it against his shaven crotch, running it against the very base of his cock. Groaning happily at the movement, Draco blushed a deep shade of red as he realised exactly what he was moaning at. The smirk on Fleur's face showed she knew exactly what she was doing. Pulling her lips away, she wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and held it upright, admiring it from every angle, her mouth close enough that her breath rushed against the slick flesh, sending shivers through his body. Draco's eyes were focussed on her, analysing her every movement. She was surprised at how avidly he watched her. It was quite satisfying in and of itself. She had anticipated an alluring performance being the extent of her titillation, yet the way in which Draco reacted was so enjoyable that she felt obliged to draw it out, taking things as slow and as tantalising a possible. Each slight squeeze was built up to, each movement of her lips thought out. It was a new experience for her as well and she was thrilled to have so avid and engaged an audience. Even if it did speak to the sexually starved nature of the boy. It was unfortunate that anyone would find themselves robbed of passion and bliss, forced to live with stunted orgasms and functional relief. What good was jerking off if it was simply a means to an end. A formality. If you couldn't enjoy the journey, then the ending was hollow. It was that notion that had Fleur ensuring that the journey to Draco's orgasm was as intense and delicious as was possible.

Parting her lips, Fleur held a moment before taking Draco into her mouth. That moment's hesitation gave Draco shivers as his cock thrummed in anticipation, the warm intake of from her lips rushing across his pre-cum soaked tip. Tightening her lips around the engorged head of his cock, she bathed his sensitive flesh in saliva, allowing her spittle to pool in her lips, her tongue casually running back and forth across the purplish tip, lathering it in the warm embrace of the slick substance, all the while basking in the salty taste of his delectable pre-cum. The warm wetness of her mouth was pleasure enough for Draco, yet the velvety way in which she brought her tongue back and forth was heavenly. Her hand remained tightened around the base of his cock, almost squeezing him as a way of milking a few additional droplets of pre-cum into her mouth; droplets that she was quick to relish and delight in herself. Her own cock was throbbing as she did all this, yet she ignored her pleasure entirely, focussing on weaving and wrapping her tongue across the sensitive hive of pleasure that was his cock-head. Focussing solely on that bulbous tip, she traced every inch, hooking her tongue around the mushroom tip, tracing the curves and contours and savouring the myriad of pleasured responses that came from Draco. His hands still remained tightened by his side, yet they flexed in such a way that suggested he wanted to grab her head and guide his cock further into her throat, the man desperate to sheathe himself further into her mouth. Holding that desperation above him, she kept her lips only around the tip, ensuring that the soft tightness of her mouth only consumed that singular sensitive aspect. Just when that pleasure began to stagnate, did she begin to ease her lips downwards.

When she did, she did so at such slow and incremental pace, her lips indulging themselves in every single inch, her tongue covering every aspect of his cock. She would slide lower and lower, letting her tongue flick and curl around his meaty cock, tracing the ridges and veins, often pausing to lavish a particular part at random, yet always ensuring that every single inch was doused in a layer of saliva. Inch by inch, she worked along his cock, sucking softly as she went, bathing his cock in pleasure, yet never pushing it far enough to completely satiate him. Yet again, his fists clenched, wanting to intervene, wanting to plunge his cock deep into her throat out a of a deep desire to simply savour the pleasure. Yet, still he hesitated, allowing Fleur to continue her torturously pleasurable approach. Eventually, her lips rested gently against his base, her tongue darting across the last couple portions of his cock, curling back and forth across the last inch. Expecting her to pull back and do the same back along his cock, Draco let out a hoarse groan of satisfaction as she instead stretched her tongue out of her mouth and began to lap it against his shrivelled balls, teasing and playing with the sensitive handfuls, flicking them back and forth whilst his cock remained sheathed in her throat. Fleur delighted in this sort of thing, yet rarely could do so. Most cocks she sucked stuffed her throat and sandwiched her tongue in place. So, a pleasantly sized cock like Draco's was a treat for this very reason. It allowed more creative use of her tongue and more tactful delights. And to her enjoyment, Draco relished them just as intensely, with moans pouring from his curt lips.

Slowly, she began to pull her lips backwards, making a point to slowly drag as intimately as possible, her tongue resting limply against the underside of his cock. As she reached his tip, she plucked his cock entirely from her mouth and used her tongue to tease his tip, nestling the very tip against his cock-slit, the intense sensation only adding to his constant moaning. Laying the flat of her tongue against the base of his cock, she slowly dragged it up along his cock before capturing him once again in her mouth, her tongue quickly lathering his flesh in saliva and spittle once more. Her hand began to casually stroke back and forth across the lower couple inches of his cock, not working fast or far enough to create an immense pleasure but adding just enough slick friction to what was already an overwhelming symphony of small delights. Draco was in heaven to say least. It felt like every pleasure was followed by a completely new and unexpected one. Fleur had barely opted for any form of traditional oral and had only taken his cock completely into her throat once. It was scintillating and unique. Eventually, she took his cock back into her throat, swallowing him down to the base, only this time her lips wrapped tightly around his flesh and she began to softly hum, sending reverberations of pleasure shuddering through his cock, vibrations that were made all the more delicious where wrapped up amidst such a warm, wet haven. Her tongue gently brushed against his shaft, ducking in and out to add to the vibrating slurps. Moaning loudly, Draco clenched his fists, fighting off what was inevitable; his orgasm. The twisting sensation in his core was becoming all the tighter and his heavy, laden balls were churning faster and more intently, eager to empty themselves.

Drawing her lips back along his cock once again, she slipped his length out of her mouth and laid her soft lips against the side of his shaft. As her hand began to jerk his entire length off, her hand twisting deftly and squeezing his cock with each fluid pump, her lips continued downwards, sliding along each veined inch until they arrived at his balls. They were slightly glossy from her previous attentions, yet nowhere near as slick for her liking. Once again, she started slow, gently flicking his swinging balls with the tip of her tongue, building to slow lavish brushes with the flat of her tongue, all before capturing one of the sensitive bulbs in her mouth. Bathing it in spittle, she lathered his balls to the same slick and glossy finish that she had done his cock, popping each one free from her mouth before hungrily swallowing the other. Finally, she took both into her mouth, completely enveloping his entire sack, her tongue weaving back and forth, lapping at the sensitive balls, feeling his orgasm brimming just within. Her moans once again began to shudder through his flesh, adding another dimension to the physical pleasure. Pulling her lips away, she admired her handiwork. Both his shaft and balls were layered in a healthy amount of saliva, his pale cock shimmering in the light. Her hands smeared it back and forth, using the spittle as lubricant for her long and intimate handjob. Glancing up at Draco, she saw the look on his face and knew immediately it was on the edge. The tightness in the rest of his body was as much an indication as the intent look on his face. Smirking playfully, Fleur returned her lips to the very tip of his cock, ready to flood his cock with the last push he needed.

Instead of taking his cock entirely into her throat once more, she instead focussed entirely on the bulbous tip, knowing that flooding that with her tongue would serve to give him that final surge of pleasure that would carry him into an orgasm. As such, she latched her lips around the tip and rushed her tongue forwards, flicking and darting it wildly back and forth. Not holding up, she continued to barrage his tip with her tongue, his body tensing up until finally his cock-head erupted into orgasm. The first splash of cum landed in Fleur's mouth, eliciting a moan of satisfaction from the woman as she pulled back and swallowed, her hand jerking his cock and continuing to provide pleasure to him throughout his orgasm. The next strands flew from his cock with such power and intensity, landing across her jaw and onto her chest. Angling the final strands downwards, she ensured they painted her breasts, coating her bra-clad globes and rendering her a well and truly sticky mess. Draco felt like the wind was knocked out of him, his cock continuing to throb in Fleur's hand as she milked out the last couple drops, allowing his softened cock to flop downwards. Staggering for a moment, he felt his head going dizzy, his mind blank. The orgasm was pure intensity and it lingered for a fair few moments after his cock physically stopped cumming. Fleur smirked at the disorientated look on Draco's face, yet as the man came back into focus, he collected himself. With ragged breath and shaky feet, he made his way over to the sofa, savouring each lingering orgasmic sensation. Cum leaked across Fleur's face, the woman proud of the reaction she had garnered.

"Now zat iz an orgasm earned… Mon dieu, iz it not special?" Fleur smirked, glancing down at her cum-smeared breasts, the plentiful load beginning to soak into the fabric of her bra. Strands of cum had even dribbled down onto her thighs. She was no stranger to pent-up loads and knew full well the extent of a saved cum-shot. Yet there was something special about Draco's. There was a certain veracity to the way it erupted. It was a broken dam. An open flood-gate. He wasn't just emptied, but he was unleashed; in all his thick and sticky glory.

"I… Thanks…" Draco breathed, his body still tingling from the orgasm. He sunk into the sofa, his knees feeling uneasily shaky despite him not being upright. His eyes remained fixed on Fleur, admiring his handiwork. It had been an age since he had had an orgasm like that. One that brought with it satisfying pleasure. It wasn't just the size, but the feeling of intensity that came along with it. It was difficult to describe, yet Draco was endlessly thankful to have received such a diligent blowjob. Not to mention, the sight of Fleur Delacour dripping with cum would be one that stuck with him for a long time. There was nothing quite like her perfect French features being sullied by a thick layer of sticky cum.

"It iz no bother. I 'ave a soft spot for ze sexually unsatisfied," Fleur chuckled, rising to her feet, cum beginning to leak across her body. Stepping towards Draco, she drew his attention to her looming figure, her eyes turning from sympathetic to intensely lustful. Confused, Draco quickly realised what the change in demeanour meant, his heart racing, both nervously and from the rush of excitement, "I do not mean to be forward, but zere iz ze matter of returning ze favour?"

With that, Fleur unceremoniously grabbed her panties and pulled them sharply downwards, letting her thick cock flop free. Draco's eyes widened at the sight. The concealment charm placed on the underwear hid from view the massive bulge that her throbbing erection made, so to see her cock unveiled in all its glory was startling to say the least. What would have elicited disgust from Draco years prior, now brought about a strange curiosity. He remembered how vehemently he abhorred Pansy's cock, yet now, looking at Fleur's throbbing length, he found himself not disgusted but… allured. It was a strange feeling to say the least. The way her cock twitched, the hairless perfection to its bulging width, the pre-cum glossed tip that shimmered perfectly in the low light. In a peculiar and strange way, he felt obliged and compelled to suck on the thick slab of cock. Seeing that sparkle in Draco's eye, Fleur grinned lustfully, her cock twitching in response. Grabbing herself by the base, she angled her glossy tip towards Draco, shaking it expectantly and to her delight, and Draco's surprise, he salivated and licked his lips.

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Straightening her back and puffing out her chest, Umbridge plucked a small bottle of perfume from between her plump, juicy breasts. Spritzing herself a couple times, she seated the bottle back in place, straightening her gaudy pink lingerie into place before pushing confidently through the door-way. Entering the room, she scanned the space quickly, hoping to see one of the more pliable Hogwarts' students waiting dutifully for her. Instead, she found nothing but an empty room. Assuming that her designated partner hadn't arrived yet, Umbridge was quickly proven wrong as the door behind her clicked shut, the magical seal emblazoning itself upon the wooden surface. A little uneasy, Umbridge walked across the room, expecting a small annex space to be at the end, yet quickly found that the room was exactly as large as she expected. It was an unremarkable guest-bedroom, sporting very little in the way of elegant furniture. Aside from the large bed-spread, ornate fire-place, and the carven wooden cabinet boasting sex-toys and the like, there was nothing exceptionally interesting. And nowhere someone would be able to hide. Glancing around the room confusedly, Umbridge craned her neck to see beneath what little furniture there was. Not sure why anyone would hide, Umbridge didn't see any alternative. And yet, she was completely and utterly alone. Her confusion quickly turned to vicious anger. This was some thinly veiled attempt to imprison individuals that Apolline found unseemly. The guise of peace-talks was simply a means to get them here so that they could be locked away. The look on her face turned quickly sour, her features scrunching up as she stormed over to the door, readying to kick and scream her way into freedom, her mind running wild with all the perverse and torturous things she was going to inflict on that buxom blonde bimbo and her family. Yet, as she reached for the door, she heard something. It was soft and faint, yet distinct enough that it caught her attention. It was a giggle. A gentle, understated giggle.

"If there is someone in here, reveal yourself. Or I will not take kindly to you. We can make this engagement as easy as any. Or, I can whip and beat you. I'm happy to do either," Umbridge snapped, reaffirming her stance as she stepped back towards the centre of the room, looking around once more, hoping to catch whomever was laughing at her. Hoping, but failing.

"Whipping? I've never been whipped before…" a voice sniggered, prompting Umbridge to turn around sharply, only to find no-one standing where the voice came from. Breathing steadily, Umbridge began to feel hot beneath the collar, her anger bubbling forth in slow and steady increments.

"I'll make sure it is an experience you never forget. You're ass with burn red raw. You'll wish you never crossed me," Umbridge threatened sternly, her words falling on deaf ears. Once again, soft giggles filled the room, the voice echoing as if coming from multiple directions.

"I'm positively shaking!" the voice laughed, the unmistakable tones of a girl filling the air. The taunt was enough to infuriate Umbridge, her stubby fingers tightening as she reached instinctively for her want, only to find nothing but a pair of panties cling to her hips.

"Enough! Don't make me find you," she shrieked, turning on the spot, desperate to find the source of the voice, but only finding soft giggles and ceaseless laughter. Her cheeks began to grow flush with fury, her eyes piercing with seething venom.

"Oh, I couldn't hide from you. Come and find me. If you find me, you can whip me all you want," the voice teased, disappearing into the empty room once more. Scoffing to herself, Umbridge composed herself and began to move around the room, searching more fervently than before. Glancing behind all the possible cupboards, she searched every fathomable place, all before stepping closer to the bed, only to receive another taunting word from the mysterious disembodied voice, "Warmer…"

With that Umbridge convinced herself the bed was the source. Pulling back the sheets and duvet, she found nothing at all, forcing her to come to the conclusion that the person was underneath the bed. Doing her best to crane her neck beneath the edge, she found herself unable to see without dropping down. Sighing to herself, she begrudgingly sunk down onto her knees, lowering her body and looking beneath the bed. The bed was large enough in size that a large portion of the space beneath was plunged in darkness, meaning that Umbridge couldn't entirely see what was there. As such, she shifted forwards slightly, reaching out with a hand, fumbling in the shadows. Easing her head beneath the edge, she unwittingly presented her arse to the open air, her round plump rear perfectly framed by her slightly pinched panties. Stretching further underneath, Umbridge found nothing at all. Her fury swiftly returned to her as she realised, she had been tricked. The voice, if it was really coming from the room, had lied about her warmer remark. Huffing, Umbridge was on the verge of screaming as she shuffled slowly backwards, only to hear the voice exclaimed loudly and shrilly.

"Gotcha!" the voice laughed. Before Umbridge could respond, she felt something. Something pushed against her ass. Confused, her eyes widened in shock and momentary pleasure as a strange object plunged deep into her asshole. She felt her prostate suddenly get enveloped in this strange sensation. The object went straight through her panties and effortlessly carved into her asshole without even stretching her in the slightest. And it was impossibly cold. Ice cold. As shivers rushed through her body, she fought the instinctual urge to moan from the admittedly pleasurable sensation, her mind struggling to make sense of it as she wriggled her way out from underneath the bed. Suddenly, she felt hands on her hips, resting against her flesh with a similarly icy chill, yet without being able to actually touch her. The feeling simply rested against her skin as opposed to actually touching it. Finally freeing herself from beneath the bed, Umbridge leapt to her feet and turned sharply around, only to be met with the giddy, giggle-consumed face of Moaning Myrtle. The ghost hovered in the air, almost keeled over with laughter as she looked at Umbridge's flustered face, the older woman's hair dishevelled and her piggish features holding even more of a pink hue. The ghost was completely naked, revealing the strange object that had penetrated Umbridge to be the ghost's cock, pre-cum beading on the shimmering tip as she laughed incessantly.

"I am Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic himself. I will not be goaded around by some stunted dead girl. I… Demand an apology," she breathed through gritted teeth, her fists clenched at her side, the ghost practically ignoring her as she continued to laugh.

"Or what? You'll whip me? I'd like to you try!" Myrtle giggled, composing herself somewhat and turning around to flaunt her pert ass cheeks, wiggling her rear end in a taunting way, teasing the older woman by completely undermining her prior threats.

"I… As a senior member of the ministry, I can do a lot worse things than spanking. Even to a ghost," Umbridge threatened, her voice dripping with fury as she stared down the ghost, doing her best to appear imposing to someone who she had quite literally no power over.

"Oh? You look very much like a frustrated old woman in her underwear. Not senior under-bladdy bla…" Myrtle giggled, finally stifling herself and dropping down to Umbridge's level, addressing her somewhat normally. She had shirked her usual wailing in light of the situation. As soon as she was told about the fact that she'd be attending this salacious Delacour soiree, she was thrilled and noticeably giddy. What little she knew about the Delacours had been gleaned from perverse glances at the older Delacour sister during her time at Hogwarts, and Myrtle was thoroughly entertained at every opportunity she got to stare at the woman's perfectly plump figure, gleaming with a thin sheen of water. If she had known she'd end up paired with Umbridge, she would have tempered her enthusiasm for the event.

"When I get out of this room, I will bring down a whole world of pain upon you… you…" Umbridge spat, her words ultimately hollow. There was very little that could be done to a ghost. There were measures to relocate ghosts that appeared in the muggle world, but when it came to those that dwelled in Hogwarts, there was nothing that her far-reaching power could accomplish.

"Out of this room? Does that mean you're going to bed back over so I can fuck you? You did have a really nice, tight ass for old woman," Myrtle smiled, lowering her hand down her flat stomach to her cock, her fingers wrapping nimbly around her length. Proudly and brazenly jerking off in front of the old woman, Myrtle relished the look of shock and insult on the woman's face.

"Enough! Of course not. The fact you presume so is insulting to say the least," Umbridge snapped, slowly coming to terms with the fact that she was trapped in this room, with her only source of escape being that of the ghost in front of her. Her skin crawled at the prospect, yet she maintained as much decorum as she possibly could.

"How do you plan on getting out then? We both have to cum?" Myrtle reminded the woman, her hand starting to pump faster along her cock, soft moans beginning to form in Myrtle lips, her heart racing at the prospect of ravenous animalistic sex. However unlikely it was that Umbridge would commit to such wild passion, Myrtle could still hope she'd get off her high-horse and let her have hard fuck-session.

"I'll use my hand. Just as you'll use yours," Umbridge said as firmly and authoritatively as possible, trying to show that she was the one in charge. Unfortunately, she was the only one who believed that she was in charge, with Myrtle scoffing at the idea of a handjob, casually dismissing it as she continued to pump her own cock.

"No. That won't do. Too boring," she said, finding the prospect of journeying to a completely different country for only a handjob to be utterly insulting. Drifting back and forth, her hand continuing to work her cock, she ignored Umbridge's triumphant look of victory, the red-faced lady looking as if she had won the conflict at hand.

"Well, then you'll remain stuck in here just the same as me. This is a two-way negotiation," she declared proudly, prompting a grin to stretch across Myrtle's face, the ghost on the verge of laughter once again. Unable to understand the look on the ghost's face, Umbridge felt her confidence falter for a moment as the ghost dropped her hand from her cock and folded her arms, a smile curled across her lips.

"That would be a problem but…" Myrtle began, her voice trailing off into a high-pitched signature wail. As she screeched, she flew into the air, soaring across the room and disappearing effortlessly through the wall, ignoring the magical barrier on the door. Umbridge froze, panic rushing across her face as she realised that she was stuck in an empty room, with no means of escape now. The ghost held the key to her escape, and she was utterly powerless to that effect. Slowly, Myrtle's face remerged, the girl pushing her head through the wall with a massive grin stretched across her face, "I'm a ghost… Sorry… I'm a stunted dead girl… Enjoy your hand."

"Wait!" Umbridge exclaimed in a panic, stopping the ghost before she completely abandoned her. The smile on Myrtle's face intensified as she hovered in place, half in the room, half out. The conflict on Umbridge's face was a delight, the internal debate coursing through her head causing her hands to tightening into clenched fists, "I'm sure we can come to some understanding."

"You'll bend over then?" Myrtle asked, entering the room completely, dropping down onto the floor expectantly. Umbridge knew that her freedom was completely in the hands of the ghost, yet she did her best to retain some measure of control in the situation, trying to act as if she hadn't spent the past few minutes insulting and berating the ethereal figure and laughable trying to appear reasonable in the face of her prior unreasonableness.

"No. Some other understanding. Perhaps you could be the one to bend over?" Umbridge suggested calmly, hoping that Myrtle would be happy to compromise. Once again, Umbridge refused to admit that she had no chips on the table and was completely at the ghost's mercy.

"Or you could bend over," Myrtle reiterated in a monotone voice, watching as Umbridge visible winced at the prospect, all before trying to desperately find an alternative. Umbridge knew that Myrtle was had her heart set on her bending over, yet the older woman just didn't want to admit it to herself.

"No doubt there are a number of toys in that cabinet that could be used?" Umbridge suggested, stepping towards the mahogany cabinet and pulling it open, displaying all the various eclectic sexual toys inside, hoping to appeal to the girl's sense of adventure. It was a fruitless appeal as Myrtle remained unflinching in her stalwart decision that she wanted to fuck Umbridge in the ass.

"Or you could bend over," she repeated coldly, watching as Umbridge became increasingly flustered, unable to find an alternative that was appealing to herself. Stammering as she marched back and forth in place, Umbridge's defeat mounted quickly, her mind running wildly in circles, her asshole tightening and clenching, unable to accept that the ghost would soon be sheathed deep within her.

"Perhaps an arrangement could be made for…" Umbridge began, her words trailing off, her heart sinking as reality set in. Myrtle hovered ever closer, her cock throbbing ever more intensely as she did so. Umbridge's face fell, her body shivering at the mere icy presence of the ghost.

"You to bend over?" Myrtle finished, once again breaking Umbridge's heart. In one last ditch attempt, Umbridge didn't try to suggest an alternative, but practically began to beg the ghost, pleading with the cold figure to see reason and mercy. To help preserve the old woman's fleeting sense of pride and self-respect.

"Anything! Anything other than that…" Umbridge practically screamed, watching as Myrtle's face curled into an even wider smile. It was strange for her to have this much power, but Myrtle was absolutely adoring it. Seeing the woman fumble and quiver, whimpering like a child before her, completely at her mercy; it was orgasmic.

"You'll lie on your back and let me fuck you? I'd rather not look at you, but it could work," Myrtle compromised, furthering shattering what was left of Umbridge's defence. Bowing her head, Umbridge, on the verge of tears, conceded to herself. Realising there was nothing she could, she relaxed her tensed body and forced the words out of her mouth, her lip quivering helplessly as she did so.

"I… if it will make you shut up… Fine… I will… bend over," she breathed softly to herself, ignoring the giddy burst of excitement that rushed across Myrtle's face. Even though she had said those words, it still took her a minute to even begin to enact them. Hesitantly, Umbridge shuffled over to the bed, begrudgingly clambering onto the soft, plush surface. Remaining upright on her knees, she looked one more time at Myrtle, hoping that this was some kind of sick joke. Yet, Myrtle remained just as eager as she had been before. And so, Umbridge turned away from her and slowly bent over at the waist, propping herself up on her hands and knees and waiting patiently for what she could only imagine would be the worst experience of her life. Seeing Umbridge break like that was enough to get Myrtle's cock twitching, yet as the ghost drifted over behind the woman, Myrtle found herself moaning purely at the sight. From behind was definitely the old bat's best angle.

"Take your panties off," Myrtle ordered. She knew it was unnecessary for her to do so, yet the euphoria of being in charge rushed to her head. Umbridge didn't even question the order and simply reached behind herself and slowly peeled the underwear downwards. Plucking the garment out from between her ass cheeks, she rolled them over the crest of her rear and eased them steadily down towards her knees. As she adjusted her position to pull them off entirely, Myrtle piped up once more, "Wait! Keep them around your knees… Just like that. And spread your ass cheeks. Spread them nice and wide…"

Blushing uncontrollably, Umbridge did as she was told, leaving her panties around her knees, the garment stretched taut. Lifting her hands up to her ass, she rested her cheek against the bed, burying her ashamed look in the soft sheets. Begrudgingly, she sunk her hands into her ass and slowly pried them apart, peeling each juicy handful to one side, her asshole winking slightly as she did so. Readjusting her position, she struggled to hold her plentiful flesh apart, the woman having to sink her fingers into her flesh. Humiliated, Umbridge's asshole was completely unveiled and at Myrtle's disposal. Smiling ear to ear, Myrtle took her time, simply admiring the tight entrance, forcing Umbridge to hold herself in such an embarrassing and compromising position. Lightly jerking her cock, she made Umbridge stew in her own thoughts, losing herself in her own mind, wondering just when the ghost would inch forwards and plunge into her ass. Minutes passed with Umbridge holding her arse open, before Myrtle finally shifted toward her, guiding her small cock-head towards the woman's puckered hole, ready to fuck the woman into complete and utter submission. She would enjoy every second of it, even if Umbridge didn't

Wanting to tease the woman as much as possible, Myrtle lightly tapped Umbridge's asshole with the icy tip of her cock, relishing the subtle feeling rushing through her incorporeal length, alongside the visible shivers running along Umbridge's length. With a giggle, Myrtle slammed her hips forwards, driving every inch of her cock deep into Umbridge's asshole, the warm embrace of her tight hole causing the girl to erupt into a moans. She over estimated her thrusts, causing her crotch to push a little harder into Umbridge's ass, enveloping a portion of her plump flesh in the cold embrace of her hairless crotch. Breathing through her teeth, Umbridge put up with it, doing her best to ignore the thrumming sensation coming from her prostate. Even as that sensitive bulb of pleasure was tingling and spilling ecstasy out through her body, she refused to allow herself a moan. It was a torturous self-limitation, yet that Umbridge stood by it. Even as her hairs began to stand on end as a result of the coldness of Myrtle's body pressed against her own and the all-encompassing sensation of having a ghostly cock inside of her. It had been a long time since she had let someone fuck her ass and even when she allowed it, it was mainly done out of necessity as opposed to personal pleasure. She vehemently hated it, being unable to separate the physical pleasure from the dehumanising connotations of being bent over like a common slut. To her, allowing her ass to be fucked was a sign of weakness and domination. It was why she took so much personal satisfaction in laying claim to others assholes; even if they enjoyed it, she allowed herself to become lost in own power dynamic. But one thing was for sure, she despised the ghostly cock lodged in her ass and the stunted brat to which it was attached.

Myrtle grinned as she began to pull her hips back, rocking them back and forth at a slow, leisurely pace, gently pounding into Umbridge's ass. Just like her previous adventures with Harry, Myrtle couldn't help but savour the pleasure with a sense of bitterness. It was intense, feeling the plump old woman's hole lavishing her cock with wave after wave of pleasure, yet, it was frustrating as well. It was pleasurable, but it was not the normal pleasure someone would feel fucking someone. A part of her wanted that sense of domination. That slapping impact of her body against Umbridge's, those grunts of displeasure as she took her cock into her. Whilst she was experiencing physical pleasure, she lacked that physical effect. Sure, she was balls deep in Umbridge and delighting in how satisfying that was, yet she wasn't stretching and gaping the woman. Her cock carved through her like butter yet wouldn't leave an impact when she drew out. It was a personal frustration and one that Myrtle hoped she would be able to overcome through some magical intervention. Yet, in that moment, she was forced and obliged to simply relish what she had and know that deep down, she was pouring more frustrating into Umbridge with every thrust than she had ever experience herself. The gritted teeth and tightened grip on her own ass cheeks were example enough. Each thrust brought another burst of pleasure, one that caused Umbridge to tighten her fingers, sinking them deeper into her own ass cheeks, gripping them tightly in some misguided way of maintaining some physical control over herself as she was rammed into from behind. Each thrust felt the same to Umbridge despite satiating Myrtle in a different way. The only thing that was different with each thrust was the speed at which it drove into her and the angle at which it claimed her hole. Myrtle was surprisingly on point with her thrusting, effortlessly piercing Umbridge's asshole and sailing right the way through her to her prostate without missing a beat, something that frustrated Umbridge incessantly. The idea that her ass boasted a means of such intense pleasure was humiliating to her. Only lesser whores enjoyed having their assholes fucked, yet here she was, with a bulb of pure pleasure emanating out from deep within her clutching asshole. The shame was unending for the ministry official.

Thrust after thrust caused Myrtle to get more and more into it, her inhibitions beginning to shift. Her hands brought themselves up to her pert little breasts, mauling the sensitive handfuls with gentle gropes, her fingers beginning to tease her tender nipples, pinching and pulling at them. If she couldn't pull and fondle Umbridge's body, she would do so to herself. Her cock hummed, spilling pre-cum out of her cock, pre-cum that beaded and dropped through Umbridge's body, cascading through her stomach and down towards her own cock. The splashes soared straight through her sensitive cock-head, forcing another lurch of pleasure into her body, a lurch she did everything in her power to ignore. Her face was growing more flustered, her once puffy nipples now standing painfully rigid atop her breasts. Her breasts were speckled with goosebumps, her entire body consumed in a subtle freezing chill, with each thrust from Myrtle only adding to it. She had hoped that her body would grow numb as a result of each thrust, with Myrtle's frozen aura removing Umbridge's ability to feel the torturous pleasure, however, her own body betrayed her once again. The warmth of the pleasure countered any numbing, with the scale flipping back and forth between ice cold and scorching hot, meaning that the pleasure was only intensified as it bounced between each polar opposite, further annoying Umbridge as she just wished the girl would cum already. Despite Myrtle being close, she did everything in her power to not succumb, wanting her domination to last as long as possible. It was only then that Myrtle discovered something utterly amazing, her eyes widening in both awe and pure delight: the spell governing Apolline's magical cabinet of sex toys extended to her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw two objects suspended in the air, hovering closer to her. Confused, Myrtle waved her hand, only to watch the objects follow her movements, the two items paired to her. Startled, Myrtle quickly realised that the spell that allowed attendees to conjure objects towards them at will affected her as well, meaning that whilst she couldn't touch or hold the items, she could certainly use them. Adjusting herself, she used her hands to guide the objects into place; one of them being a flat wooden paddle and the other a long leather whip. Keeping her thrusts slow and steady, Myrtle suddenly waved her hands and the items went about enacting her will. The whip lunged towards Umbridge's neck and tightened around it, the handle pulling itself backwards. Lightly choked, Umbridge felt her head get tugged back, her hands falling away from her ass cheeks to support herself and stop herself from choking to death. As such, her ass cheeks were completely at Myrtle's disposal. The paddle swung sharply into action, cracking against Umbridge's ass cheeks, reddening her pale skin. Gasping, Umbridge struggled to force out words as her humiliation went to new unbridled lengths, all to the ghost girl's delight. Timing the paddle with her thrusts, Myrtle satiated her previous desires for impact vicariously through the paddle. Whenever she thrust forwards, burying herself into Umbridge's ass, her crotch silently impressing against her cheeks, the paddle would swing into action, filling the room with the cracking of flesh that would normally follow a thrust of that power. Moaning in ecstasy, Myrtle absolutely savoured the new set-up, watching as Umbridge's face grew more flustered, the whip keeping her in place as Myrtle dominated her even more. Husky breaths escaped her lips as she tried to bluster out insults, only to find the whip tighten and silence her. It wasn't choking her, yet it tightened every so often to remind her just who was in charge.

With Umbridge's ass being spanked red-raw, Myrtle ran her hands across the sensitive burning flesh, her cold touch soothing the pain somewhat before the paddle blistered thunderously against her arse once more. Gasping, Umbridge unwittingly let out a moan, her lips pursing as her cheeks darkened. Fortunately, Myrtle didn't notice, yet she did notice the very obvious throbbing cock pulsating between Umbridge's thighs. For a woman with such distaste for the situation, the growing patch of pre-cum dripping onto the sheets beneath her told a very different story. Grunting in disgust, Umbridge felt her prostate tightening, throbbing in time with her cock. Her orgasm was steadily building, yet it wasn't doing so fast enough. The faster she came, the quicker they got out of this situation, yet despite the overwhelming waves of crashing pleasure, her orgasm remained teetering on the verge. Almost as if she wasn't willing to allow herself that final step. That final humiliating confession that she was in fact enjoying this. Battling with her subconscious, her cock continued to throb, her balls filled to the brim with cum that refused to allow itself to burst forth. Myrtle, on the other hand, was fighting back her orgasm with each thrust. The addition of toys had made for a scintillating experience, one Myrtle was not keen to abandon. Thrust after thrust pushed her closer to her end, to the point that she felt a bead of cum roll from the tip of her cock, her shaft burning with copious amounts of seed, waiting to be freed. The next thrust did just that, causing cum to pour from her cock, flooding into Umbridge and spraying itself across her body. The splattering sensation wasn't enough to push Umbridge over the edge. Even as cum tore through her prostate, grazed against her nipples and doused her cock, she couldn't push herself over the edge. She knew it wasn't because of her inherent inability to cum as a witch. It was personal. Deep-seated. Even as her conscious brain begged her to submit, her subconscious refused to allow such a humiliating situation. Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Under-secretary to the Minister himself, wouldn't allow herself to be brought to orgasm anally and by such a decrepit creature as a ghost; she simply wouldn't allow it.

As Myrtle breathed heavily, she caught her breath, her unthinking mind continuing to allow the paddle to smack against Umbridge's ass. Taking a moment to recuperate, she glanced beneath Umbridge and still saw her cock shuddering on the verge of orgasm. Looking towards the door, Myrtle saw the lock hadn't been undone. After all that, the stingy bitch hadn't even cum? Surprised at first, Myrtle allowed a lecherous grin to stretch over her lips as she looked down at Umbridge. Myrtle had promised that she would make Umbridge cum. She had promised that if Umbridge bent over, she would be able to leave. And if Myrtle was one thing, she wasn't a liar. Her own cock throbbed and began to harden at the prospect, prompting her to turn back to Umbridge with a giggle. Slapping her cock against Umbridge's ass, she quickly reinserted it, launching into a slow and rhythmic fuck, eager to kindle a second orgasm in herself. Groaning in frustration, Umbridge let out a whimper, her orgasm continuing to be denied. Unbeknownst to her, Myrtle had plans. The ghost glanced over her shoulder and smiled as she saw a sea of floating implements hovering in the air; dildos, whips, paddles, butt-plugs, flesh-lights, nipple-clamps; the works. With a giddy giggle, she turned back to Umbridge, slammed her hips forwards and unleashed a wave of sex-toys onto the older woman. Gasping, Umbridge was briefly able to utter a scream before a ball-gag forced itself into her mouth and silenced her entirely. If only she had been able to overcome her stuck-up nature and cum just once from being fucked in the ass. Each crack of the half-dozen whips and paddles forcibly reminded her of that fact; each and every time they blistered against her supple, defenceless skin.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

She had done it. Pansy Parkinson had jinxed herself. Not in a magical way, but the proverbial way. Of course, she had to have said. She had to have gone and tempted fate. In her momentary frustration at the prospect of having to fuck a half-breed, she had to go and verbalise it. And her she was staring the lumbering half-human, half-horse down, her ass aching at the mere thought of engaging in sexual relations with such a hideously unconscionable beast. Frozen in the doorway to the small greenhouse area of the manor, Pansy's heart sank as the door forced itself shut behind her, clicking and magically sealing itself, ensuring that she was trapped. The tall centaur turned to face her, sighing as saw that it was her of all people. Frankly, he wasn't exactly excited regardless about this prospect. Whilst he didn't despise interspecies relations, he knew that most humans were uncomfortable with the notion. He knew very well that the majority of the people who entered this room would be somewhat put out by the fact and whilst they may have allowed for such a thing on that one occasion, they would hardly be into the moment in a way that would make it enjoyable for Firenze. However, he had hoped that he would be able to escape being paired with the one person who had openly voiced her disgust at the prospect. Yet, her she was. Stood, staring at him with distaste in her eyes and a notably unattractive body. The underwear she wore was designed to accentuate a full and feminine figure, neither of which Pansy' lack of curves benefitted. As such, she looked horrendously out of place, her breasts barely filling her bra and her panties hanging uncomfortably on her hips, bunching a little in places. She hardly had the looks to back up her insidious opinion on centaurs. Regardless, Firenze bowed his head silently, biting the bullet and speaking first, "I imagine you aren't best pleased about this situation."

BESTIAL CONTENT

(It's a conscious intelligent creature, so whilst not strictly bestiality, it's still functionally that)

"Best pleased? Are you fucking kidding me?" Pansy snapped, marching into the room and straight past Firenze. They were in a small greenhouse that sat attached to the house, boasting a bountiful display of elegant magical flowers, all of them eclectic and colourful in nature. The room had been personal designated to Firenze by Apolline, with his number being rigged. The tighter corridors and doors of the upstairs part of the manor would be unbeneficial to someone like him, yet the large open space at the centre of the Greenhouse was perfect for a centaur and anyone interested in a more experimental session with the lumbering creature. Unfortunately, Pansy was not one of those people and instead took the fact they were in a Greenhouse as a sign of hope that she would be able to find a side-entrance, "The fact that you think I'm going to do anything sexual with you is absolute fucking insane. I! I have standards! So, don't think I'm staying her for one more fucking moment."

"I understand your frustration, but Apolline assured us the only way out would be by…" Firenze began, trying to approach this as sensibly as possible, even as Pansy raced around the small conservatory, growing increasingly frustrated as she encountered nothing but glass panes. No second door.

"Don't! Don't even think that there is any possibility of… that… None! None at all!" Pansy seethed, not even allowing the words to form in her mouth as she made a full circuit of the room, coming back into view of the centaur and immediately turning her head away, screaming loudly, "There has to be another way out! Someway… Any way!"

"I don't think shouting is going to make this any more pleasant," Firenze said softly, trying to be amenable in the face of Pansy's increasingly shrill words. Following the girl around with his eyes, he felt body tense up at the prospect of having sex with her in any capacity. Pansy's frustration was a two-way street.

"There! There's an open window. Give me a boost," Pansy squealed in delight, racing over to the glass wall and leaping fruitlessly towards the small opening. Her fingers barely grazed the edge of the window, her heart sinking as she turned to Firenze for help. His lips opened to say something, but she was quick to interrupt, "Zip it. And give me a leg up."

"You think I'll be able to fit through that gap? I'm not going to remain trapped in here simply for your pride. Besides…" Firenze interjected, noting the fact that even if Pansy could squeeze through there, he'd remain trapped via the spell, something he definitely wasn't going to subject himself to. The final nail in the coffin came as he picked up a small pebble from the flower garden and threw it through the window. It soared a couple feet before being pulled suddenly back inside by a magical power, dropping on the ground in front of Pansy. Smirking at her defeated expression, Firenze added, "Apolline is a smarter woman than you or I…"

"Then… Fine, get down and I'll be the one to fuck you in the ass," Pansy growled, pulling her panties over her hips and kicking them to once side, revealing her small, miniscule cock. It was soft. Nothing about the situation elicited any form of arousal within her, so she quickly latched her hand around her shrivelled base, doing her best to coax some blood into her length.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I can see a few problems with that…" Firenze replied as tactfully as he possibly could. Despite her cock being soft, he knew from experience that it simply wouldn't work. He was a bulky, looming figure. It would require a sizable cock to even penetrate him, let alone derive any pleasure for either of them.

"What do you mean? What the fuck are you saying?" Pansy spat venomously, seeing through his polite restraint. Trying to remain as calm as possible in the face of increasing antagonism, Firenze ambled slowly forwards, smiling as he did so.

"One must be hard to penetrate someone. And, I fear you may be a tad to small to fit inside of me. Less a comment on your size and more the extent of my body," Firenze explained, trying to bear the brunt of the problems in regard to Pansy's idea, despite her small cock being the primary issue at hand.

"I swear to…" Pansy breathed, clenching her fists as her cock flopped downwards, still unhardened. Her mind rushed through possibility after possibility, trying to come up with some way to avoid the humiliating act of being fucked by a centaur. Excitedly, she suggested, "Then you can jerk me off. Happy?"

"And I?" Firenze questioned, knowing that Pansy had neglected the fact he needed to cum as well. Reminding her of that fact, he explained, "My orgasm is required to break the seal. The same inhibition witches display applies to all magical creatures. My orgasm will require an effort on your part. And in my experience, there is little a human can do to satiate the libido of a centaur other than allowing themselves to be penetrated. Unless you'd like to spend hours with your hands and mouth. I won't say no to a long and intimate session, though I fear you'd be less enthusiastic about that prospect…"

"You've nailed it there…" Pansy sighed, realising that her options were limited. The quickest way was in fact the most tasteful in her mind. As much as she despised the idea of getting fucked by a centaur, the idea of her lips working along his shaft was more disquieting. As such, she finally breathed uneasily and with tepid uncertainty, "I… How big are you?"

"I think it would be best discovered for yourself," Firenze said quietly, knowing full well the extent of his cock. He also knew that describing it in numbers often served to make it appear all the more unfathomable to take it into her body. Standing proudly upright, he watched as Pansy stepped to his side. Hesitantly, she sank down onto her knees, glancing beneath the hulky horse to spy the massive length beneath him. Her eyes widened and her lips gaped at the sight. It was massive. It was easily over twenty inches. And by a fair margin at that. It made the size of her cock when enhanced by the Ring almost laughable. And the thickness. Her hands would struggle to touch if both wrapped around it. The hefty size of his balls promised a plentiful cumshot, one that she felt would tear her body in two. If the cock itself didn't do that first.

"Merlin's Beard… I… I can't take that…" she breathed softly, sinking backwards, her ass aching at the mere thought. The cock throbbed and twitched, remaining rigid and straight. Despite its weight, it didn't bow downwards and remained pointing straight ahead.

"I don't expect you to take it all. I have no intention of ravishing you. In fact, I'd recommend you take the lead. I'll simply stand in place and you take it as far and as fast as you are willing. If you close your eyes, you can envision it to simply be a dildo affixed to a wall. Unflinching. Unmoving." Firenze said, doing his best to assuage her concerns. As much as he wanted to ram himself into a tight and willing hole, he knew all to well that that would be ruinous in this situation. The wild animalism of the centaur species didn't carry all too well in sexual relations with humans. Quite the opposite.

"A dildo shaped like a horse's cock and attached to a half-breed…" Pansy growled, her distaste for the fact he was a centaur becoming more palpable. Firenze honestly couldn't tell if she would have preferred him to be a horse as opposed to a filthy half-breed in her mind. Uncertain where her disgust truly lay, he did his best to remain moderate and not snap angrily at her.

"I'd appreciate less of that. I didn't decide this either. And frankly, if I am to be honest, I'm not particularly thrilled either. Yet, I've had the good conscience to not comment on what I'd consider to be unappealing aspects of you. Treat others as you wish to be treated yourself and such," Firenze spouted, holding himself back from simply listing of the various aspects of her anatomy that were far from preferable when it came to the human body. A handful came to mind, yet he knew insulting her would do him no favours. To his surprise, Pansy changed her tune.

"Sorry… I'm just…" she began, apologising for her viciousness. Whilst she was abhorrent to the notion of fucking a half-breed, even she had to admit her venomous bitterness was a little in excess. Bowing her head, she tried to psych herself up, her mind fighting against her at every point and turn.

"I understand. Perhaps we would do well to not think on it any further and simply… get it over with?" Firenze suggested, knowing that dwelling on the fact would simply make it worse. There was a moment of trepidation on Pansy's face before she spoke again, the root of her anxiety becoming clear.

"You promise you wont just… have at it?" Pansy asked, hoping and praying that this wasn't just some trick so as to get her bent over at his mercy. The prospect of being claimed like that sent shivers down her spine. She wouldn't be able to move let alone walk. The only thing making this situation somewhat approachable was the fact that Firenze promised her control. Control over how intensely she was sodomised.

"I promise. I have no desire to maim you in that way," Firenze smiled warmly and truthfully, burying his animalistic nature for a more human approach. He was half and half after all. With his promise, Pansy felt a measure more comfortable in doing this. Coming to terms in her head, she stood up and ventured towards the nearby wooden cabinet, pulling it open. Grabbing every possible bottle of lube, massage oil and the like, she returned to Firenze, cradling them in her arms. Dropping to her knees, she took one final deep breath for confidence and began to shuffle beneath the lumbering centaur's figure. With her out of view, Firenze sighed softly, staring straight ahead as he prepared to remain as a statue for the duration of all this.

Admittedly, as soon as Pansy was beneath the centaur, she felt a small measure of comfort. Removing Firenze's face from the matter helped to reduce the situation to its simplest components. There was a cock that needed to cum. Simple. Her uncertainties still remained given that it was an abnormally shaped cock and a massive one at that. Picking up a bottle lube, she unceremoniously emptied it along the top of his cock, letting it drizzle and drop along his shaft, splattering gently against the stone floor. Too consumed in the moment, Pansy failed to notice that the hard-stone floor actually had a soft texture, with cushioning charms being placed all across the room in anticipation, exhibiting the thought that Apolline put into all this. Grabbing a second bottle of lubricant, Pansy emptied just as the first, his cock positively gleaming. Probably in excess. Emptying a third, the lithe girl finally brought her hands up to the creature's leathery flesh, running her hands back and forth across his shaft, smearing the copious amount of lubricant back and forth, lathering it into his skin until he was practically dripping with it. Each inch boasted a thick and plentiful layer, promising to be as lubricated as was perhaps humanly possible. Even then, she pumped her hands back and forth, almost in a trance like state, wanting to make sure that every inch was as slick as was possible. Finally, she pulled her hands away, checking every last portion of his cock, ensuring that there was a single stretch of dry skin. Double checking, she finally came to the conclusion that he was ready. As such, she begrudgingly rolled onto her hands and knees, her ass positioned towards the cock, wincing in anticipation of what was to come.

Reaching behind herself, she slipped a few slickened fingers inside of her ass, working the residual lubricant into her ass, ensuring that not only he was ready, but she was as well. Finally, she grabbed the last bottle of massage oil and held it close in her hand, wanting additional lube close to hand for a moments notice. Finally, she was ready. Inching herself back, she kept going until she felt the tip of his cock push against her ass cheeks. Leaping forwards suddenly, she shuddered at the fact that his cock was larger in relation to her asshole than she had anticipated. Steeling herself, she reached back and grabbed the centaur by the tip of his cock. Shivering at the unique rigid shape, she ignored the twisting in her stomach and pushed the head against her asshole. Fighting her own anal preservation instincts, she did everything in her power to relax her clenched hole. Breathing slowly, she forcibly uncontracted her asshole, only have herself instinctively seize the moment the cock-head brushed against her hole. Gritting her teeth, she began to grow frustrated more with herself. Trying to search for a better angle, she ultimately failed, discovering no better angle than just straight in. As such, she pushed the tip against her hole, gritting her teeth and straining as she forced her asshole to adjust. It took a few seconds of firm pushing from both her hand guiding cock in and the rest of her body pushing backwards, but eventually, her tight puckered hole eased open and her once tight ring was stretched obscenely around the massively thick cock. Gasping, Pansy failed to make a sound, her lips gaping and flapping as if she was muttering to herself. The feeling was immense. It was like normal anal but flooded with equal parts pain and pleasure. The biggest size she had taken was the ring enhanced length of Ginny Weasley, yet that paled in comparison and proved to be pointless preparation. Her ass… Her ass would never be the same again.

` Frozen in place for what felt like an eternity, Pansy was roused from her trance by her ragged and uncontrollable breath. Reaching a hand behind herself, she gently cupped her ass cheeks, inching a finger inward to her asshole. A part of her didn't believe her ass was in such a state, yet the moment she felt her once wrinkled hole pulled unimaginably taut, she knew it was real. Grunting as she felt her hole, she returned her arm, resting on her elbows, her pert ass prostrated out behind her. She didn't dare glance behind her to see the state of her ass. She didn't dare see just how much cock was left; not that she intended to take all of it anyway. Instead, she allowed the waves of pleasure and pain to crash against one another, constantly consuming and being consumed by the other, the sheer intensity being unlike anything else. Her cock had hardened between her thighs and was beginning to soften again, unable to decide whether to remain rock hard or completely soft. Her mind struggled to make sense of those thoughts as well, with sweat beginning to form on her brow as her cheeks grew hotter and hotter with each passing second. Every aspect of her body tensed and untensed, trying to make sense of it all. Eventually, Pansy came to resolute conclusion. It wasn't overwhelmingly painful. She wasn't screaming in agony. She hadn't lurched forwards, desperate to free herself from the rigid length. She could take it. She could take more. And she was confident if she could get the cock to push against her prostate, she would be able to drink in a burst of pleasure that might carry her through this. Her own orgasm was swiftly approaching from that simple push inside her. She knew she was liable to cum countless times. The important and pressing thing was getting the cock to cum. Not referring to him by name, she reduced him simply to the length behind her. Her eyes remained closed, so she could continue to lose herself in that reality.

Slowly, she pushed herself backwards, only to feel a lurch of pain as her insides stretched to accommodate the length. Grunting softly, she forced herself over that next inch, taking a deep breath as she adjusted to the newfound fullness. Her hand quickly dropped down to her cock, squeezing and jerking it as it went from soft too hard within a matter of seconds. She focused her thumb on the tip of her cock, rubbing it wildly to compensate for the pain and flood her body with pleasure as she waited patiently for her ass to stop aching. It took a minute or two before she felt her tolerance bolstered and that she was able to ease herself backwards once again. Through gritted teeth, she managed to push herself beyond what she thought was her limit, with her asshole being pulled even tighter around the creature's cock s its length grew progressively thicker the further along the cock it went. She occasionally felt Firenze's cock spasm and shudder inside of her, those twitches setting her ass alight with unexpected lurches of pain. She found it infinitely more manageable when she could expect the ache as opposed to it suddenly sweeping up on her. Biting her lip, she eased another inch into her gaping ass, her insides beginning to bulge as she felt he stomach getting slightly fuller. She could feel the curved tip of the creature's cock lightly grazing against her prostate, teasing her with the fact that that endless wealth of intense pleasure was less than an inch away. Rocking her hips gently back and forth, Pansy could feel the ribbed tip prodding that sensitive spot of hers, the brief flutters of pleasure being enough to get her ass that little bit looser, the girl prepping to roll another inch deep into her awaiting arse.

With each gentle bounce, she rocked back and forth on her knees, gently teasing her actual prostate until she mustered up the enthusiasm and desire to take another inch. When she did, she did so rather unceremoniously, impaling herself backwards rather suddenly. The next two inches drove themselves inside her to her surprise, her eyes bulging open as she felt her belly almost beginning to outline the cock. Her lips parted in a gasp of ecstasy fuelled pain. Her prostate found itself suddenly crushed against her insides; the pulsating bead of pleasure being milked for all it was worth. It throbbed against the side of Firenze's cock, sending pleasure flooding through Pansy's body to such a degree that it didn't take very long at all for her prostate to begin to ache slightly, the pleasure becoming slightly piercing in its intensity. Breathlessly, Pansy shifted herself forwards, letting those two inches slip out of her ass, alleviating the sudden rush of pleasure and giving her a moment to recuperate. What she thought would be her saviour and would beat back the pain actually served to add to it, albeit through a sheet wave of intensity. Yet, as Pansy shifted back into place, adjusting to the portion of Firenze's cock that she had been comparatively able to cope with, she felt a strange yearning for that rush of bliss. Perhaps it was because her orgasm had leaked from her cockhead, dripping down her hand as she came rather suddenly. Or perhaps it was simply her mind being addled by the pleasure and simply wanting more of it, despite it being almost overwhelming to her. A little frazzled, she continued to jerk her cock, smearing her cum along her length as she felt Firenze spasming inside of her, leaking pre-cum into her depths, the shimmering substance appearing as a meek lubricant in comparison to substantial lather that Pansy provided. Keeping his own moans to himself, Firenze couldn't help but admit Pansy made up for her lacking physical appeal with her anal pliability. The way her ass hugged his cock tightly was intense to say the least. Humans always provided a tight experience, but that was rarely combined with an adaptability that made it a snug and scintillating fit. Whilst barely any of his cock was inside her, he was still experiencing plentiful bouts of pleasurable satisfaction.

Starting to shift her body back and forth, she lightly fucked herself, allowing his cock to roll past and against her prostate. She would linger in place for a moment, allowing her body to relish in the initial spike of pleasure, before she eased forwards, relieving the pressure against her sensitive bulb before it became painfully intense. Whilst she was fucking herself on the cock, it could barely be called that. Each thrust into her ass came about a minute apart, meaning she was taking her sweet time in pounding her hole. It worked for her, however, and she quickly found herself falling into a pleasure-dazed trance, gently rocking back and forth, working and teasing her asshole as best as she could, occasionally trying to take a little bit more into her ass. She didn't desperately try to stuff herself to the brim, knowing full well her limits. The ache was still exceptionally present, lingering in her ass for several moments, between thrusts, occasionally becoming too intense for her and eliciting a grunt of pain. In general, she was working herself rather well, pumping her hole steadily and to an extent that her body was beginning to relax. She unfastened her bra in an effort to have her chest feel less restrained, yet it ultimately allowed her to squeeze her nipples, adding another mitigating pleasure to the unending ache that rose and fell within her ass. Her moans were proud and unhampered, with the girl physically unable to stop herself. Every time her lips fell closed, another burst of pleasure would force them open once again, her throaty groans of satisfaction filling the room. In the end, she felt no need for the final bottle of massage oil as the three full bottles of lubricant seemed overkill if anything. Not that she, or her arse, were complaining about that fact.

Above her, Firenze kept his steely gaze forwards, his lips parted in soft and subtle moans. Her ass was quite the pleasure. Whilst she lacked the ability to take a cock like a centaur woman, she certainly made up for it with her tightness. His orgasm was creeping steadily up on him, with each push of her ass getting his balls churning that little bit more. Resisting every urge, he had to thrust forwards and pump her ass mercilessly, Firenze found himself unable to resist slightly shifting his body forwards, meaning that every backwards push from Pansy inched that little bit more inside her. It wasn't enough for her to notice or react, but it was enough to deepen the well of pleasure building in his cock, his balls beginning to tighten that extra little bit, his cum on the verge of erupting forth. Clenching his fists, he savoured the fact that Pansy was moaning. So many stories about centaur and human sex involved humans screaming in agony and whilst he had never gone so far as to make that a reality, it was rare that his relations came to anything more than passive grunting. So, to hear sounds of legitimate building pleasure forming on Pansy's lips made for an affirming sense of satisfaction for him. Quickening her pace, Pansy allowed for less downtime between her movements, building to a relatively steady pace, her hips rocking back and forth often without a pause between. Working her ass at a brisker pace, she unwittingly brought herself closer and closer to becoming a cum-receptacle for the biggest cumshot she had ever and probably would ever see. Each push flooded Firenze with more and more pleasure, up until the point of no return.

Yet another orgasm washed through Pansy's body as she began to work at a swifter and more satisfying pace. Each backwards push seemed to get more cock inside of her, even if they were so infrequently performed. Grunting amidst her heavy breathing, Pansy remained utterly oblivious to the pleasure building in Firenze. It had become so intense that he had subconsciously silenced himself, despite previously intending to warn Pansy of his orgasm. As such, his cock spasmed suddenly, sending a spurt of cum pouring into her. It jetted into her asshole at such a pace that she felt as if her body shifted forwards. Her ass filled to the brim, cum sinking deeper into her, her cock spasming through a forced orgasm despite no cum remaining to be produced. Firenze came and came and came, to the point Pansy felt cum already leaking from her ass, trickling down her crack and onto the floor beneath her. What seemed like minutes passed before Firenze came, the centaur's cock beginning to soften as he pulled backwards, assuming Pansy didn't want his cock inside her any longer than need be. As he stepped to one side, he glanced down at her, the girl frozen in place. A few seconds passed and she remained fixed, her body frozen in an unmoving and unemotive state. Her breathing was steady, even if her face was completely unresponsive, her ass still struggling to tighten to its usual puckered state.

It was to be expected. The state that Pansy was in was one of familiar territory for Firenze. Many of the witches and wizards he had fucked were left in a bereft state of seeming lack of thought. So, it was no surprise when Pansy collapsed to her side, her eyes widened as she breathed deeply, her ass stretched and gaped, cum-leaking steadily from inside of her. Whilst she may have found the pleasure of being fucked by a centaur to be satisfying, that didn't change the fact that she was now suddenly empty. That emptiness had a strangeness about it. Pansy almost wished that she could have slowly tapered his outward pull and given her a chance to adjust to this new feeling in the same way she adjusted to having him inside her in the first place. Instead, she simply lay there, not even thinking about moving as Firenze trotted towards the door, happy to leave her to recuperate on her own. As such, he felt no shame or regret in pushing through the newly opened door and leaving Pansy to herself. Pansy, on the other hand, found herself unable to voice her dismay at his leaving, her lips moving to form words but her voice failing to pull its weight. In a strange way, she felt a sorrow as his thick cock bounced away. The feeling of emptiness was prevailing, her ass aching not in pain, but in a desire to once again be full. And in a strange way, she felt attached to that massive cock, her addled, well-fucked mind attributing the feeling of fullness with his cock and his cock alone. In a strange twist of fate, she felt… addicted. As she lay there, cum dripping from her ass, she felt abandoned. Despite her previous admonishing words towards the centaur, she now felt a yearning for that cock. A need for it. A desperation. A hunger. She pleaded silently for him to come back, for him to sheathe himself inside her once more and simply rest there. Not fucking her, but just… just plugging that empty hole within her; figuratively and literally…

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