Summary: After learning the truth about the prophecy, Harry comes to a single conclusion: He is most definitely going to die. Well, if he's going out, then Merlin be damned, he'd go out living his life to the fullest. And what better way to do that than by charming the knickers off of every girl who caught his fancy? Hogwarts isn't ready for a Boy-Who-Lived with a death wish.
Prologue: Death On The Horizon
A/N: For more stories like this and to get early access to future chapters, exclusive works, and other additional goodies, please visit the link on my profile.
Summer in Little Whinging was, by all accounts, just as boring as the neighbourhood itself. The chirping of the birds was flat and lifeless. The flower gardens that grew in front of every pristine, square house were uniform and bland. And the people themselves were… well let's just say Harry would rather sit through a ten-hour-long lecture courtesy of Professor Binns than have a single conversation with the people of Little Whinging.
By all accounts, it was the perfect place for his relatives. It was no wonder why he always hated it.
Having your death practically guaranteed by world-deciding prophecy put a lot of things into perspective for Harry. Before, he had been content to simply go with the flow. Follow the lead of others and generally not try to cause too much ruckus. In his mind, if he stuck to the path laid out for him then things would turn out semi-okay, right?
God was he a fucking idiot.
He could see that now. The actions he thought were his at the time were nothing more than the choices others made for him. Perhaps they had his best interests in mind, that he had little doubt of, but in the end, no one, not Dumbledore, McGonagall, or even Sirius, had stopped to ask him what HE wanted. A fact he found annoyed him a great deal.
But you know what? It's alright. Live and learn and all that. Or in his case live while you can. Something he fully intended to do while he had the chance.
It started with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon had been less than pleased to be reprimanded by a group of so-called 'freaks'. Despite the Order's intentions, they really hadn't helped things when they told the walrus-shaped man to leave him alone. If Harry didn't have a death-predicting prophecy hanging over his head perhaps he would have let the man rage on. Perhaps endure a few weeks of harsh chores as punishment and leave it as that.
As it was, Harry decided he didn't want to do that at all.
With Fudge resigned and Voldemort now officially out in the open, Harry found there was pretty much nothing the new ministry leadership wouldn't let him get away with. Magic outside of Hogwarts was now a non-issue, as was transfiguring his uncle's mouth into a pair of testicles it seemed.
Since that day his relatives avoided him like the plague and vice versa. With liberal use of magic, Harry's been able to avoid his Order guard for the most part. Coming and going as he pleased suited Harry far more than being cooped up in his depressing bedroom. It allowed him the space to think and process everything.
He missed Sirius, dearly, though the guilt he felt before didn't weigh on him as much. Throughout the summer he worked hard on coming to terms with the man's death. One thing he realized was what he missed was the idea of Sirius, of what he represented. Sirius Black was his godfather, one of the last shreds of his parents Harry had left, and now that he was dead so too was that link to Harry's parents.
He had no doubt that he loved Sirius, but did he even really know the man? They had spent, what? A few weeks together? A month tops between the years? It was devastating to Harry that he would never get the chance to know the man his parents trusted so much, a man who so willingly died for him.
Perhaps he should be grateful for Sirius's sacrifice and choose to fight so that the man didn't die in vain. But really, what was the fucking point of that?
Harry sighed to himself. Perfect, another evening ruined by his own shitty thoughts. He took a long draw of his cigarette, courtesy of the shop down the street that he stole the pack from. He supposed he should feel bad for stealing, but then again the shop owner was a bit of a cunt who used to turn a blind eye to Dudley's game of 'Harry Hunting'.
Around this time he usually liked to sit outside, intent on enjoying the warm summer air while confined to this abysmal neighbourhood. It wasn't all bad truth be told. Over the last few weeks, between processing the prophecy and Sirius's death, Harry had been living his life to the fullest. It wasn't uncommon for him to leave Little Whinging for a few days at a time, travelling to London or other smaller cities in search of entertainment.
Clubs, bars, really any place he could get into with a simple Notice-Me-Not charm that served a good time via strong liquor, music, and more importantly, women.
The first time he explored the nightlife of London he was caught off guard by just how many absolutely stunning women were out and about, scantily clad in dresses, skirts, and crop tops that showed off everything. What's more is the fact that many of those bombshells he stared at were also staring back at him.
Harry didn't remember much about that first night out. Only that, after one too many whiskey sours, he was suddenly tongue-deep inside an incredibly cute blonde's mouth while she ground her hips against his on the dancefloor. He was sure she told him her name at some point, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember it even now. But he'd never forget how amazing her lips felt against his. How her mouth tasted of cheap liquor and vanilla lipgloss. And the sheer erotic way she'd moan his name as he explored every inch of her mouth.
He never saw her again after that night, much to his disappointment. She probably gave him her number but Harry, in his drunken state, must've misplaced it. Either way it didn't matter. That night he got a taste of the other sex, and he was addicted.
In the last few weeks alone, Harry had gone home with at least a dozen different women. From young 20-something college girls looking for a good time to older women in their 40s who just want to feel young again, Harry's had experiences with them all. His favourite by far was his first.
Her name was Cammi, a 24-year-old receptionist at a London temp agency. She went to the club that night because she'd broken up with her douchebag ex-boyfriend a few days prior and was looking to drown her sorrows either with liquor or sex. Lucky for her, Harry had been more than willing to provide the latter.
~A Few Weeks Prior~
Harry threw back another shot of vodka with a grimace. Whoever said that the taste of alcohol would grow on you was a fucking idiot in his opinion. Regardless, the burning of his throat was soon soothed by the pleasant buzz of the alcohol's effects.
"Either you're celebrating or trying really hard to forget something." A teasing voice sounded from his left.
Harry turned and was greeted by the sight of a very pretty raven-haired girl smirking back at him. She was clad in a thin white tube top beneath a denim jacket. Her black leather skirt was so short that Harry was able to see every inch of her rich creamy thighs. Tattoos were scattered across her legs, stomach, and cleavage, indirectly drawing Harry's eyes to the large swell of her breasts.
"You know my eyes are up here." She said with a knowing look.
Harry tore his eyes away from her chest and quickly stammered out an apology. "S-sorry!"
The woman giggled, her white teeth gleaming under the neon lights of the club. "You're cute but you never answered my question. Celebrating or forgetting?"
"Oh right. Well… both I suppose." He shrugged. "What about you?"
She laughed and took a sip of her cocktail. "Forgetting. Definitely forgetting." She took another sip, finishing the rest of her drink quickly.
Harry looked at her with interest, his eyes making one more quick pass up and down her body, and felt his mind settle with a resolve. Gryffindors charged ahead right?
"Don't suppose you'll let me buy you a drink then? Another round might help us both forget." He asked with as much confidence as he could muster.
The raven-haired woman eyed him for a moment as if she were inspecting him. Finally a small smile broke out across her face and she nodded. "That sounds lovely. I'm Camilla by the way, but everyone calls me Cammi."
"Harry." He replied, waving the bartender down.
~Present Day~
It took only two rounds of drinks before Cammi pulled him from the bar and onto the dance floor. They spent the night moving against one another, dancing and grinding in a not-so-subtle attempt to explore each other's bodies. She found the noises he made amusing every time she pressed her round fat arse directly into his groin. Harry found it fucking incredible. The feel of his cock pressed into her soft bubbly bum stirred something within him and soon enough he had Cammi pressed up against the back wall of the club as he dominated her mouth with his tongue.
After that, the rest of the night passed in a blur. Between the drinks, Cammi's hot wet mouth, and his raging arousal, Harry found himself being dragged into her apartment shortly after midnight. He barely remembered stepping through the door, only that he came too while balls deep inside the tattoed vixen's wonderfully tight snatch.
That night Harry found out what it was like to truly be with a woman. To hear her scream your name while she quivers around your cock. To have her beg for more, pleading for you to fuck her harder and harder. He experienced it all that night, and so much more.
From that night on Harry decided that he'd spend what little time he had left on this plane of existence enjoying the paradise that was a woman's body. Something Cammi was only too happy to indulge him in.
"Hey hot stuff. Coming back to bed?" A voice said from the balcony door.
'Speak of the devil.' Harry smirked. "Yeah, I'll be right there." He took one last drag from his cigarette before vanishing it with a quick pulse of wandless magic.
As luck would have it, Cammi also lived in Little Whinging. Well, technically Upper Whinging, but still close enough for Harry to take a bus over to her flat most evenings.
He entered through the glass balcony door. Cammi's bedroom greeted him, the familiar piles of clothes dotting the floor and old boy band posters sprawled across the wall. Cammi herself was sprawled out on the bed, clad in nothing more than a pair of velvet red knickers. Her full round breasts were in full view. Harry didn't even bother to hide he was staring as he approached. After all of the depraved and kinky things they've done to each other, staring at her tits was borderline mundane.
The raven-haired beauty hummed absentmindedly to herself as she flipped through channels on the telly, a cigarette of her own poised daintily between her fingers.
"You know I've already said you can smoke inside." She said without looking up.
Harry laughed and eased onto the bed, throwing an arm haphazardly over her shoulder. "I enjoy the night air. S'refreshing."
Cammi snorted. "Whatever weirdo." Sighing, she threw the remote to the side and snuffed out her cigarette before leaning into him. "Can't believe you're actually leaving tomorrow."
"Haven't got a choice. It's a-"
"Boarding school yeah yeah. You told me. Though I'm still a bit miffed you waited until after we hooked up to tell me you were a bloody student." She groaned.
Harry smirked and brought his hand up to teasingly cup one of her voluptuous breasts. "You certainly weren't complaining earlier."
She gasped softly in his ear but swatted his hand away. "Prat." She said breathlessly. "I'm serious though. I finally find a halfway decent bloke and he suddenly has to swan off to some posh boarding school across the country! One that doesn't even have a bloody phone! I mean honestly! Is this place stuck in the 1800s?!"
Harry laughed at her unintentional irony. Oh if only she knew how right she was…
"We can still write. Plus I'll be back around for Christmas."
"So I have to wait four months to get laid again. Yay me." She groused.
Harry rolled his eyes. "The way I see it, we still have all night together." He slid his hand down across her stomach, ending dangerously close to her womanhood. "So do you want to keep pouting or make most of the time we have left?"
Cammi bit her lip before slowly spreading her legs apart. Harry smirked and dipped his hand lower, easily slipping under her thin red-lace panties. The moistened lips of her cunt met his fingers. The brunette gasped softly and buried her head into his chest at the contact.
He ran a finger up and down her wet slit teasingly, enjoying the cute little mewls and whimpers Cammi let out each time he brushed against her clit. Circling her opening, he pushed two digits inside her tight snatch with absolutely zero resistance. Her hot, wet pussy allowed him entrance eagerly. She clawed at his bare chest with a hiss as he sank his fingers even deeper inside. Each time he drew back, Harry would ground the pad of his hand into her clit just enough to drive the tattooed minx wild.
"You're so fucking wet Cams." He murmured in her ear. "All this just from my fingers. You really are my needy little slut aren't you?"
Cammi threw her head back and gasped loudly. Her hips bucked against his hand as her pussy grew even wetter with arousal.
"Fuck yes you are. I bet you'd like nothing more than for me to bend you over right now and pound this tight little pussy of yours until you're screaming my name." He growled.
"Oh fuck yessssss!" She moaned. Cammi squirmed against his chest as he increased his pace. Her sloppy wet folds were gripping him tighter and tighter, signalling her first climax was right on the cusp of erupting.
Harry smirked and reached up to roughly knead one of her giant tits. At first, he had found the whole dirty talk thing a little awkward, but after seeing how much Cammi loved it, he found himself whispering all sorts of depraved things into her ear each time they shagged.
"Then what are you waiting for, slut?" He pulled his fingers free from her folds without another word. Cammi groaned loudly in disappointment, her legs twitching heavily as her impending orgasm was stonewalled just as she was about to tip over the edge. She didn't complain though. Instead, the buxom woman sat up and quickly yanked off her soaked knickers, throwing them to the side without a care.
Cammi bent forward on her knees, raising her shapely ass into the air and giving him a perfect view of her two enticing holes. Harry's hands ghosted over her ass, giving each cheek a firm squeeze before he ran his thumb pointedly over her wrinkled backdoor.
"Mmm~ You haven't given me a good buggering in a while. Planning to change that?" Cammi said huskily as she threw a lecherous grin over her shoulder.
Harry responded with a firm slap to her bubbly asscheek. "You'll have to earn it first."
Cammi moaned and threw her ass back purposefully into his cock. Her large round globes gripped his cock, smearing the underside of his shaft with her slick juices. Harry took hold of her ass and spread it apart. He lined the tip of his cock up with her dripping entrance.
With a single thrust, he slammed himself deep inside her sweltering core until his hips smacked against her ass and balls slapped her clit. Cammi gripped the wrinkled sheets of her bed with an iron grip and buried her face into the mattress. A muffled scream of ecstasy sounded from her lips, drowned out by the thunderous sound of Harry pounding away against her fat ass.
The sight of a woman's ass jiggling as he fucked her was always Harry's favourite. Every woman he's been with, whether petite, curvy, or like Cammi herself, absolutely stacked, Harry loved taking them from behind for that one reason alone. Cammi's own was a particularly erotic sight. The tattoos on her arms and legs were eye-catching, but the one on her ass made Harry's ego soar.
On her lower back was a bright red flaming phoenix, its wings spread wide with its tail trailing down and curving around her left ass cheek. The tail ended with a swoop, forming a quite obvious cursive H and P. The sexy vixen had gotten the tattoo after Harry had jokingly mentioned how hot it would be to have his initials on her bum. Next thing he knew, they were in a tattoo shop looking at pictures of phoenixes.
The sex they had that night was mind-blowing, almost as mind-blowing as it was right now.
He groaned and gripped her waist in a tight grasp, using it as leverage to pound into the girl's velvety pussy relentlessly. Cammi screamed under him, her back arching as she threw her head back in abject ecstasy. Already she's hit her peak twice, with a third coming up just as fast. An interesting fact about her, Harry found, was that the more she came, the louder she grew.
"Oh fuck! OH FUCK! OHHHHHHHH! OH DON'T STOP!" She cried, her nails clawing at the sheets in an effort to ground herself. "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T STOAHHHHHH!"
She spasmed against the mattress, her body convulsing with climax as Harry hammered into her from behind. The grip of her pussy tightened almost impossibly, almost bringing Harry to his own end.
"YES! YES! OH FUCK! Y-You're fucking splitting me apart!" Cammi wailed. "More! Harder! Please daddy!"
Harry grunted and fell forward, pushing her into the bed as his hips pounded into her from above. She always used kinky names like that when she was about to cum the hardest, and Harry wasn't very far behind her. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his hips even faster, ignoring the burning in his lungs as the exertion turned his breathing ragged.
"OH F-FU-FUCK! I'M CUMMING!" Cammi screamed.
He felt it then, a large gush of warmth spray against his groin as the buxom woman squirted around his cock. It was too much for Harry. With a strained groan he finally unleashed his load, erupting deep inside of Cammi's soaked cunt. The raven-haired vixen moaned happily as he painted her inner walls with cum. Yet neither were anything close to being satisfied.
As soon as he released the last drop inside her cunt and rolled off of her, Cammi sat up in a flash. The tattooed babe descended quickly, wrapping her mouth around his spent cock with a husky moan. She sucked him fast and relentlessly, bobbing her head up and down his length with loud slurps. Within moments, Harry's cock was standing back at full attention, ready for more.
Cammi gave the tip one last hard suck before pulling back with a gasp. She swung her leg over his waist while lining the head of his cock up with her used entrance. They moaned in unison as she sheathed herself on his member, the oversensitive nature of their sexes making the pleasure almost unbearable.
"Yesss daddy~" She hissed. "If you're leaving tomorrow then I'll ensure all you can think about while you're gone is me!" Cammi began to rock her hips back and forth, grinding herself on his cock. "Oh fuck! I don't care how many schoolgirl sluts you fuck, I want you to be thinking of MY pussy every time you're ruining their slutty little cunts! God YES!" She started to move faster, switching from rocking her hips back and forth to bouncing furiously on his cock. Her nails raked across his chest, breaking the skin slightly and leaving pinpricks of blood behind
"Fuck Cams!" He hissed. "You really are a brat."
Cammi panted with exertion, her hips working overtime to bounce furiously on his cock. Her giant tits were jiggling wildly from the force of her work, rippling up and down enticingly.
"Oooohhhh! Yes, you're fucking brat. I'm your slutty little brat now punish me daddy please~"
Harry did just that. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around the girl's waist tightly, pushing her back onto the bed. He released her waist and reached down, grabbing her legs and bending them back high in the air. Without warning, Harry bore down on the girl once more, pushing her legs flush against her chest as he slammed into her pussy with all his strength.
The scream Cammi expelled was ear-splitting, but not nearly as loud as the one that followed. He pulled his hips back, freeing his cock from her folds and slamming forward once more, this time aiming a bit lower than before.
"OH GOD YES!" Cammi screamed.
She trembled in climax as he roughly took her ass. Every deep thrust into her sweltering back door triggered another wave of gasping expletives. Harry couldn't stop the deep groan of pleasure from leaving his own mouth. The grip her asshole had on his cock was heavenly. Her words from earlier only made him want to fuck her into an unconscious heap all the greater.
While they were by no means dating, or even exclusive, hearing her so possessive was strangely arousing. Though to hear her speak of other girls at Hogwarts, unintentionally as it may have been, wasn't surprising. Over the last few weeks, Cammi had actually helped him seduce other women. She seemed to enjoy teaching him in the art, and more than once had even joined him with other partners as a, quote, 'learning experience'. Either way, the idea of him with other women was certainly a kink for the tattooed bombshell, and it seemed to be fueling tonight's bedroom fun.
Cammi's screams and curses slowly died down to slurred, incoherent praises of ecstasy. The constant barrage of pleasure was too much for her. Harry himself wasn't far behind her. Her ass was a heaven of tightness and heat.
Harry never lasted very long with their previous experiences with anal. Tonight was no different.
He erupted inside her sweltering asshole with a shuddering moan. His cock pulsed over and over again, sending spurts of hot cum deep into her rectum. Cammi sighed happily and wound her legs around him, content to keep him as deep as possible inside her while he came.
They stayed like that for who knows how long. With Harry atop her and Cammi drowsing in a lull between awake and orgasmic unconsciousness.
Finally, Cammi tapped him on the shoulder, signalling her need to use the restroom. Harry rolled off her with a groan, eyes glued to her arse as she scampered off to the attached bath.
She was right about one thing. No matter how many women he shagged, Harry would most certainly be thinking of her. Not to worry though, he already had a list in his mind of some very worthy contenders.
Author's Note
Chapter 1,2, & 3 have already been posted through the link on my profile.