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He kissed her again and just stroked the side of her breast. Then he cupped one and ran his hand over the tip. He found the nipple of the other one and massaged it, gently. She made a sound into his mouth and he kissed her a little harder. He pulled back, massaging the other nipple. "Stick your tongue out," Harry said.
"What? Why? That feels really different."
"Just stick your tongue out. I want to touch it with the tip of my tongue."
"Why?"
"Play along," Harry said.
So, while he gently mauled her breasts, he flicked the tip of his tongue against hers and licked it and kissed it. "That's just weird," she said.
"How does it feel?"
"Weird," she said.
"Does it feel nasty?"
"No."
"Okay, the next time we kiss, open your lips and touch the tip of my tongue with yours again," Harry said.
Astoria Greengrass took to French kissing like a duck to water. She was shocked at how different it was from just touching the tips of their tongues together. That, combined with his manipulation of her nipples, had her hips moving. Mamma Nature knew what it wanted her to do and she didn't even know she was doing it. Harry left her breasts alone and slid his hand down her side, across her hip, and up the inside of one thigh. He didn't warn her or ask her. He just pushed his hand into the shorts between her legs and cupped her puss. The fabric stretched easily. His middle finger split slippery lips and he hooked the first two knuckles into her quim. He pressed with the upper part of that finger on where he knew her clit had to be and sawed the finger back and forth, in and out.
She grunted and pulled her lips away.
"That's so nasty, Daddy," she gasped.
"I want my honey girl to feel good," Harry said. "Now, pay attention to this part. This is the part you can do by yourself."
He fingerfucked her and found her clit and tickled it and she yipped and oohed and aahed and spread her legs. He got out from under her and laid her down on the couch seat, where he could get to her lips and breasts with his mouth, and her pussy with his hand. She started breathing harder and harder, until they couldn't kiss anymore. That was when he started sucking her nipples pretty hard while he just rubbed the shit out of her clit.
She made inarticulate sounds that had a word of English in them here and there. "Oh!" she gasped. "I can't -" was something she heard. "What's happening?" she gasped. "This is killing me," she whined.
"You're about to have an orgasm," Harry said. "This is what Draco felt like twice on your honeymoon night and what he neglected to make you feel."
When she went over the cliff it was almost comical. She had no frame of reference in which to evaluate this and she panicked because it was so overwhelming. Harry held her down and rode her through it, until she started to relax. She was panting hard and he let her breathe, still petting her pussy but not torturing her clit anymore.
Half an hour later she was circling her clit with one finger and making happy sounds. He had her stiffen three fingers and whip them back and forth over the top of her split and she squealed and popped her first self-induced orgasm. She was so elated Harry knew he could have fucked her then and she'd have thanked him for doing it.
She was happy to take those shorts off, too, so she and Harry could make her happy again.
Harry couldn't deny he was playing the long game. He wanted Astoria Greengrass to crave him, to yearn for his touch, and eventually to desire him in ways that would make her forget the rest of the world. Astoria had spoken about wanting a family, and Harry, far from indifferent, was only too willing to help her achieve that dream. Her husband, from the little Harry had gathered, was an oblivious fool, distracted by the prestige of the Auror Corps' elite Strike Teams. Harry understood the allure—there was something intoxicating about the camaraderie, the adrenaline of battling dark wizards, and the sense of purpose that came with it. But a woman like Astoria deserved more than to be sidelined for such pursuits.
Harry knew how the story usually went. Someone more attentive, someone smoother—someone like him—would eventually step into her life, becoming the source of comfort her husband failed to be. While Harry realized it shouldn't be him, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Astoria to just any wizard.
His plan was simple yet calculated. That Saturday, Harry wanted Astoria to experience as much pleasure as she could handle, to see her world opened in ways she never imagined. On Sunday, he would send her back to the barracks, giving her time to reflect, and perhaps even to explore herself further. He wouldn't cross certain boundaries—not yet. The following work week, he'd ensure they both maintained the utmost professionalism, laying the foundation of discipline and control.
If Astoria was willing, their weekends would become their time. Whether spent at his place or out in the wizarding world, he'd create opportunities for them to grow closer. They'd play their roles—a Daddy and daughter dynamic that gave Astoria the freedom to explore her desires while maintaining a veil of innocence. He'd make sure they did some fun things around town or whatever, so they didn't think about sex constantly. Okay, so she didn't think about sex constantly. At some point, he'd tell her she needed to know how to handle a man who was intent on putting his prick where she didn't want it to go. To that end, she'd learn how to masturbate him. That would lead to oral sex, him on her first, and then her on him.
Eventually, Harry would "let things go too far" and slide his aching boner into her hot box and make her his slave. He knew he could blow her young mind with his lovemaking skills.
And, at some point, he wanted her to take her wedding ring off and leave it in the barracks when she came over to his house to be serviced.
Chapter Three
Harry's plan, though nefarious, was forming slowly and carefully. He had managed to build an environment of trust, something crucial for what he intended to accomplish. After all, a woman wouldn't let herself be so vulnerable—allowing him to touch her nearly everywhere—without that foundation of trust. He suspected she liked him, too, which was an undeniable advantage.
There was a conflict within him, however, a burr in the metaphorical saddle of his intentions. This plan had originated not in his mind but in a baser part of him. Yet, his rational self, the better part of him, genuinely admired her. Harry wanted her to succeed, to grow, and to achieve her aspirations, whatever they might be. The practical, disciplined Auror in him hoped she'd master her craft, rise in rank, and take pride in her work. While his baser desires imagined ravishing her and making her his, his better self quashed such notions, shoving them aside with forceful resolve.
She lay on the couch, breathless, her chest heaving as her lungs fought to draw in air. One leg hung limply off the edge of the cushions, her body entirely relaxed.
"I didn't know," she gasped.
"I noticed," Harry replied, his tone calm. "But now you do. Are you glad you learned? It's something you can enjoy almost anywhere and anytime. Just make sure it doesn't interfere with your work."
"That was incredible. Do you think Draco ever knew about that? Maybe he didn't want me to feel it?"
"I doubt it," said Harry. "He's probably just as unaware as you were. He's likely learning new things too, hearing about them or even trying them. That's just how life is."
"Are you saying he's with another woman?"
"That's not what I meant, but it's a possibility," he said. "You two married under unusual circumstances, without really knowing each other. How many dates did you go on before deciding to marry?"
"Four," she answered quickly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Four? That's an interesting number, and you remembered it very fast."
"I was only allowed two dates a month," she explained. "Each date had to be with a different boy—or man—during that month, but I could repeat dates the next month or see someone new."
"Men?" he repeated curiously.
"Yes. There was a neighboring magical village about twenty miles away. My parents sometimes arranged for me to go out with a man from there. They were looking for a suitable husband."
"And your brother chaperoned even those dates?"
She nodded. "They were very insistent that I be...pure on my wedding day. I didn't understand it at the time. I think I do now."
"They didn't want you spending enough time with anyone to develop...intimacy," Harry said thoughtfully. "The men likely had similar thoughts to what I have right now, which is why your brother had to be there. I'd say it was clever of your parents in one way, but they failed to prepare you emotionally. They didn't explain your feelings or allow you to process them healthily. You should have been exploring yourself for years, but I presume that would've been forbidden?"
She hesitated before nodding. "They would've punished me severely if they'd known."
Harry sighed. "Well, it's time to get up and get dressed."
"Why?" she asked, a note of protest in her voice. "I want to do that again."
"You'll get to do that hundreds of times," He said. "Maybe thousands. Who knows? But right now you're very attractive and naked and Daddy wants to molest his baby girl and make her belly swell up with his baby in it. So getting dressed will help him calm down and not molest you."
"You would never molest me," she breathed.
Harry shoved his shorts down and let her see his rampant erection. It was just an impulse, and he immediately hoped he hadn't crossed a line and scared her. But it was out, and he had taken it out for a specific reason, so he went ahead and did it.
"This," Harry said, grabbing his erection and stroking it a couple of times, "wants to go here," he said, reaching to push a finger deep into her. She went, "Oof!" and sat up as he pulled his finger out of her. "I'm a normal man and I want to have sex with you. Don't be afraid. Just be aware. I can control myself in this situation but if things get too hot and heavy between us in the future, and neither one of us wants to exert control, then things can get out of control."
He started to pull his shorts back up and she said, "Stop!" She said it loudly. He froze and just looked at her. His hand was around his erection, getting ready to stuff it back in his shorts.
"Don't cover it up," she said softly. "I've never seen one up close, except for the ones on animals. It looks very interesting."
"Can we save that for another time?" Harry asked. "I'll show it to you, just not right now. I really want to climb on top of you and breed you." "Breed me? Like a bull breeds a cow?"
"Yes," Harry said. "You just masturbated. I need to go do the same thing so I can calm down." "Why can't you do it here?" she asked.
She just didn't understand.
She had asked to see it, though. The lessons were just being given to her out of order. "Are you sure you're ready to see something like that?" Harry asked.
"I'm very sure."
"You know it's not your husband's penis," Harry said.
"Are you going to show it to me or not?"
So he pushed his shorts down to his knees. She sat up and swiveled so she was facing him. Her knees were wide apart and her lips, now flushed and engorged, looked puckered like lips waiting to be kissed.
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