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lightofdayeTitle: Expensive To Keep
Rating: NC-17
Characters & Pairings:Draco, Harry/Astoria
Word Count: 394
Content: Infidelity, cowgirl, abuse of underwear
Disclaimer: The characters, settings and HP Franchise as a whole are owned by JKR and not by me. I make no profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.
Summary: Being married to Astoria is an expensive proposition.
A/n: Not-beta-read. Written fo r![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tamlane (who else?) who demanded asked for voyeurism based on this NSFW Image.
He’d seen the pantyhose when they were dressing that evening. Draco remembered the charge he’d received for it from Twilfitt and Tattings, it had been more than a galleon a leg for the confection of fine Egyptian cotton and silk ribbons. He’d winced as he’d signed for it, but of course he’d had to. That was what being married was all about.
Draco barely had time to appreciate the way that the white fabric clung to her, lined and trimmed with pink silk; with its hollow promise of innocence before the sedate skirt fell down over it, hiding it completely from view.
They went down the stairs together, and separated in the mansion’s cavernous hallway. He went to the front door to disapparate, she to the drawing room to get the floo to her WI meeting.
Even before the door swung open wide enough to reveal his bedroom, Draco knew exactly what he was going to see; he must have to stay silent and still in the door instead of barging on it. The world span slightly and he stank of firewhiskey and Weasleys’ sweat.
There were clothes on the floor of his bedroom. They weren’t his. Most of them weren’t Astoria’s. She was still wearing the pantyhose, if those tatters could still be called a garment.
A man lay flat in his back in the Malfoy’s bed. He was quiet, he barely moved, he wasn’t even touching her, his hands lay entwined under his head hidden by a thicket of black hair.
Astoria was more than making up for her partner’s shortfalls. Her hands clawed as his chest, her hips rose and fall at a frantic, desperate pace. Her hair hung loose around her head, tousling and wild with the motion. He heard for the first time ever, the slapping sound of her wet cunt pounding down on a man’s hips, the curses and screams of delight she could make.
Draco thought of his wedding vows. He thought of the gifts of jewellery and the money spent on clothes and shoes and lavish gifts. He heard Astoria’s cries, saw the beads of sweat trickling down her bare back and he saw the thick meaty cock, forced through the gaping hole in the crotch of that oh so expensive pantyhose.
He smirked and stayed where he was.
It was cheap at half the price.
Rating: NC-17
Characters & Pairings:Draco, Harry/Astoria
Word Count: 394
Content: Infidelity, cowgirl, abuse of underwear
Disclaimer: The characters, settings and HP Franchise as a whole are owned by JKR and not by me. I make no profit from writing this piece of fanfiction.
Summary: Being married to Astoria is an expensive proposition.
A/n: Not-beta-read. Written fo r
tamlane (who else?) who He’d seen the pantyhose when they were dressing that evening. Draco remembered the charge he’d received for it from Twilfitt and Tattings, it had been more than a galleon a leg for the confection of fine Egyptian cotton and silk ribbons. He’d winced as he’d signed for it, but of course he’d had to. That was what being married was all about.
Draco barely had time to appreciate the way that the white fabric clung to her, lined and trimmed with pink silk; with its hollow promise of innocence before the sedate skirt fell down over it, hiding it completely from view.
They went down the stairs together, and separated in the mansion’s cavernous hallway. He went to the front door to disapparate, she to the drawing room to get the floo to her WI meeting.
Even before the door swung open wide enough to reveal his bedroom, Draco knew exactly what he was going to see; he must have to stay silent and still in the door instead of barging on it. The world span slightly and he stank of firewhiskey and Weasleys’ sweat.
There were clothes on the floor of his bedroom. They weren’t his. Most of them weren’t Astoria’s. She was still wearing the pantyhose, if those tatters could still be called a garment.
A man lay flat in his back in the Malfoy’s bed. He was quiet, he barely moved, he wasn’t even touching her, his hands lay entwined under his head hidden by a thicket of black hair.
Astoria was more than making up for her partner’s shortfalls. Her hands clawed as his chest, her hips rose and fall at a frantic, desperate pace. Her hair hung loose around her head, tousling and wild with the motion. He heard for the first time ever, the slapping sound of her wet cunt pounding down on a man’s hips, the curses and screams of delight she could make.
Draco thought of his wedding vows. He thought of the gifts of jewellery and the money spent on clothes and shoes and lavish gifts. He heard Astoria’s cries, saw the beads of sweat trickling down her bare back and he saw the thick meaty cock, forced through the gaping hole in the crotch of that oh so expensive pantyhose.
He smirked and stayed where he was.
It was cheap at half the price.
