lightofdaye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lightofdaye) wrote2017-03-14 10:00 am
lightofdaye) wrote2017-03-14 10:00 am
Entry tags:
Fic: A Long Awaited Relief. (Harry/Astoria)
Title: A Long Awaited Relief.
Pairing:Harry Potter/Astoria Malfoy
Word Count:1,482
Rating:NC-17
Content: Explicit Sex, PWP,Consensual Infidelity/Open Marriages, Lingerie.
Summary: Ministry Conferences are hard work; Harry and Astoria deserve some play time.
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.
Author’s Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
plaidphoenix for Humpfest 2017
It was the third day of the conference when she appeared. Harry was not yet over the time-lag of portkeying from one continent to another but he was buried under an avalanche of receptions, speeches and meetings so by the end of the day he could barely walk straight, aching with fatigue. However, as soon as he opened the hotel and noticed the soft glow of a light that he had definitely not left on, he was instantly alert. His eyes flickered to the doorway to check that it really was his room, while his right hand drew out his phoenix-cored, holly wand.
Then he took a couple of steps into the room and noticed the shoes. A pair of glossy high heels were paired neatly together at the base of his bed. He took another step forward, pointing his wand at the figure in his room.
“That’s hardly the way to treat a guest, Harry,” Astoria Malfoy said, sardonically, her mouth smiling pleasantly. She didn’t so much sit in his armchair, as lounge in it imperiously, apparently unaware she was doing anything out of the ordinary.
“An uninvited one maybe,” Harry said though he kept his voice level.
“But not unwelcome, I expect. I’ve seen the way you look at me,”
“I’m an Auror, Mrs Malfoy, it’s my job to see everything.”
Like her long legs for example, or the shine of her wavy brunette hair, tied into a sleek knot behind her head, or the curves her well-tailored robes clung to.
“And you like what you see.” Astoria was not asking a question. She tilted her head slightly. “Take your robes off, Harry, it’s your room after all. You can look like you’re staying.”
Harry paused for a second and Astoria cocked an elegant eyebrow at him. He slid his robes off and with a wave of his wand sent them soaring off to hang neatly in the wardrobe. He kicked off his shoes one at a time leaving him in just his shirt and trousers. All the while, looking Astoria in the eye. He was not obeying her instructions so much as rising to her dare.
“I do like what, I see,” He said, “like the fact that those weren’t the stockings you were wearing at work today.”
Astoria stretched and pointed her feet, showing off the silver silken stockings that were encasing her legs; a contrast to her deep olive skin. The black pencil-skirt was shorter as well; the bottom rim of it was scarcely below the top of her stockings. The sky blue blouse that she wore was glossy and the top button was undone, displaying just enough cleavage that Harry wondered if the rest of her get up matched her hosiery.
“You weren’t joking about seeing everything, were you? So what do you deduce?”
“That Draco Malfoy is a very lucky man.”
“A very lucky man who is very far away. We have an understanding; if we’re on different continents we make our own arrangements for… stress relief. Does that shock you, Mr Potter?”
“Hardly,” Harry said. His own understanding with Ginny was much broader; her longevity on the Hollyhead Harpies’ team line-up was mostly owing to her skills but the frequency that they shared Gwenog Jones’ bed, separately and together certainly hadn’t hurt Ginny’s career.
“Excellent,” Astoria came to her feet in a sudden, smooth motion, stepping closer to Harry. “Then do you want to relieve my stress, Harry?”
Harry did. He was pleased to find his ardour for her had not waned with the knowledge that Draco Malfoy would be okay with their dalliance; it was Astoria’s looks and personality that had attracted him in the last few days and weeks, not Mrs Malfoy’s and the temptation to get one over his old and mostly forgotten rival.
His hands settled on her hips, pulling her close. She kissed him slowly, sensually, as if tasting something new and delicious, which he supposed she was. That changed when Harry slid his hands up the length of Astoria’s spine. His finger traced over smooth fabric before coming to rest on the back of Astoria’s head, buried in her dark hair. Their kiss deepened. She moaned, the sound reverberating through his chest where they were pressed together, his tongue pressed into her mouth dancing against hers.
They snogged energetically, Astoria’s fingers digging in as she clawed at his back and sides; clutching him as fiercely as he held onto her. They were panting by the time they broke apart. Astoria nuzzled under Harry’s jawline. He felt himself tense slightly as her soft lips pressed hotly against his unprotected neck; feeling vulnerable but strangely no less aroused as she pressed kisses and slight nips of her teeth against his neck.
Harry let out a stifled moan as she went to work on to him. His neck arched up, his eyes were half lidded and skyward, unfocussed as he enjoyed her touch, only half noticing as Astoria urged him back slightly into a sitting position, settling on to the soft thick duvet covering the bed.
She straddled him, legs spread wide over his as she settled down into his lap. Harry groaned as her weight pressed down onto his hard-on. And she smiled her eyes glittering, and she rocked herself gently over his erection.
“Mmm,” She said, “you are worked up aren’t you?”
“Weren’t you supposed to be relieving that?” Harry shot back.
“In good time, Harry, in good time,” Astoria replied, and set back to work again. Pushing Harry backwards into the bed and pouncing on him. Her lips pressed to the base of his throat, her hands working on the buttons of her shirt, while she planted kisses across the steadily revealed skin of Harry’s chest.
His attempts to get back at her were more clumsy: plucking and tugging at her silken blouse. She laughed between kisses, not trying to resist. By the time she had his shirt open all the way, her blouse was handing over her shoulders, exposing smooth dark skin, the cleavage of her breasts and just a silver sliver of her bra and one dangling strap. At this point Astoria’s mouth had tracked its way down past Harry’s belly button and into his happy trail and the tension in his crotch was nearly unbearable. The look on her face told him that she knew it too.
Her grip squeezed at his hips.
“Take yours the rest of the way off and so will I?” Harry asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“That’s the idea.”
Their clothes disappeared in a flash, well not disappeared so much as just taken off and thrown well clear of the bed. Harry’s shirt and trousers and underpants were gone in the time it took Astoria to remove her blouse and unzip her skirt.
“Back down you go,” she said and Harry felt a burst of irritation.
Irritation that quickly faded as Astoria climbed back on top of her in her full glory. Her lingerie was, as it turned out, a matching set of softest, silver lace and silk. The stockings Harry had admired sheathed her legs in silver, held up by a gather belt and the bra encased her full round breasts, lifting and presenting them but the translucent fabric did nothing to spoil Harry’s eager gaze or disguise the shape of her erect, broad brown nipples.
There were no knickers. There was nothing between her legs apart from glistening folds and a stripe of black curls.
Her grip was firm as she directed him to her entrance. Her brows creased as she lowered herself down, her slickness easing it as his width spread her apart. She panted, but her face lost its strain as she started to ride him, slowly grinding herself down and around him, shifting her weight back and forth.
He didn’t know how long she rode him, he tried to distract himself from the growing pressure in his balls, he concentrated on his breathing, on old quidditch plays, on the way Astoria’s hair had come of out its bindings to flow down past her shoulders in waves, swaying and tousled with her movements. It was no good; it all came back to her.
As her legs began to tremble, Harry’s hands moved to her arse, urging her up and down on him as they both slipped in a glorious long awaited release.
They rested for a time on top of Harry’s sheets, trying to remember how their limbs worked. After a while Astoria figured out enough to clumsily come to her feet, find her wand and conjure a robe to cover herself.
“Tomorrow,” Harry said, lying back in his bed, arms under his head. “We’re doing it in your room.”
“We’ll see,” Astoria replied, arching a brow at him.
The superior look didn’t work through the afterglow and wild hair. So Harry just grinned back.
“Yes, I will.”
Pairing:Harry Potter/Astoria Malfoy
Word Count:1,482
Rating:NC-17
Content: Explicit Sex, PWP,Consensual Infidelity/Open Marriages, Lingerie.
Summary: Ministry Conferences are hard work; Harry and Astoria deserve some play time.
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.
Author’s Notes: Written for
plaidphoenix for Humpfest 2017It was the third day of the conference when she appeared. Harry was not yet over the time-lag of portkeying from one continent to another but he was buried under an avalanche of receptions, speeches and meetings so by the end of the day he could barely walk straight, aching with fatigue. However, as soon as he opened the hotel and noticed the soft glow of a light that he had definitely not left on, he was instantly alert. His eyes flickered to the doorway to check that it really was his room, while his right hand drew out his phoenix-cored, holly wand.
Then he took a couple of steps into the room and noticed the shoes. A pair of glossy high heels were paired neatly together at the base of his bed. He took another step forward, pointing his wand at the figure in his room.
“That’s hardly the way to treat a guest, Harry,” Astoria Malfoy said, sardonically, her mouth smiling pleasantly. She didn’t so much sit in his armchair, as lounge in it imperiously, apparently unaware she was doing anything out of the ordinary.
“An uninvited one maybe,” Harry said though he kept his voice level.
“But not unwelcome, I expect. I’ve seen the way you look at me,”
“I’m an Auror, Mrs Malfoy, it’s my job to see everything.”
Like her long legs for example, or the shine of her wavy brunette hair, tied into a sleek knot behind her head, or the curves her well-tailored robes clung to.
“And you like what you see.” Astoria was not asking a question. She tilted her head slightly. “Take your robes off, Harry, it’s your room after all. You can look like you’re staying.”
Harry paused for a second and Astoria cocked an elegant eyebrow at him. He slid his robes off and with a wave of his wand sent them soaring off to hang neatly in the wardrobe. He kicked off his shoes one at a time leaving him in just his shirt and trousers. All the while, looking Astoria in the eye. He was not obeying her instructions so much as rising to her dare.
“I do like what, I see,” He said, “like the fact that those weren’t the stockings you were wearing at work today.”
Astoria stretched and pointed her feet, showing off the silver silken stockings that were encasing her legs; a contrast to her deep olive skin. The black pencil-skirt was shorter as well; the bottom rim of it was scarcely below the top of her stockings. The sky blue blouse that she wore was glossy and the top button was undone, displaying just enough cleavage that Harry wondered if the rest of her get up matched her hosiery.
“You weren’t joking about seeing everything, were you? So what do you deduce?”
“That Draco Malfoy is a very lucky man.”
“A very lucky man who is very far away. We have an understanding; if we’re on different continents we make our own arrangements for… stress relief. Does that shock you, Mr Potter?”
“Hardly,” Harry said. His own understanding with Ginny was much broader; her longevity on the Hollyhead Harpies’ team line-up was mostly owing to her skills but the frequency that they shared Gwenog Jones’ bed, separately and together certainly hadn’t hurt Ginny’s career.
“Excellent,” Astoria came to her feet in a sudden, smooth motion, stepping closer to Harry. “Then do you want to relieve my stress, Harry?”
Harry did. He was pleased to find his ardour for her had not waned with the knowledge that Draco Malfoy would be okay with their dalliance; it was Astoria’s looks and personality that had attracted him in the last few days and weeks, not Mrs Malfoy’s and the temptation to get one over his old and mostly forgotten rival.
His hands settled on her hips, pulling her close. She kissed him slowly, sensually, as if tasting something new and delicious, which he supposed she was. That changed when Harry slid his hands up the length of Astoria’s spine. His finger traced over smooth fabric before coming to rest on the back of Astoria’s head, buried in her dark hair. Their kiss deepened. She moaned, the sound reverberating through his chest where they were pressed together, his tongue pressed into her mouth dancing against hers.
They snogged energetically, Astoria’s fingers digging in as she clawed at his back and sides; clutching him as fiercely as he held onto her. They were panting by the time they broke apart. Astoria nuzzled under Harry’s jawline. He felt himself tense slightly as her soft lips pressed hotly against his unprotected neck; feeling vulnerable but strangely no less aroused as she pressed kisses and slight nips of her teeth against his neck.
Harry let out a stifled moan as she went to work on to him. His neck arched up, his eyes were half lidded and skyward, unfocussed as he enjoyed her touch, only half noticing as Astoria urged him back slightly into a sitting position, settling on to the soft thick duvet covering the bed.
She straddled him, legs spread wide over his as she settled down into his lap. Harry groaned as her weight pressed down onto his hard-on. And she smiled her eyes glittering, and she rocked herself gently over his erection.
“Mmm,” She said, “you are worked up aren’t you?”
“Weren’t you supposed to be relieving that?” Harry shot back.
“In good time, Harry, in good time,” Astoria replied, and set back to work again. Pushing Harry backwards into the bed and pouncing on him. Her lips pressed to the base of his throat, her hands working on the buttons of her shirt, while she planted kisses across the steadily revealed skin of Harry’s chest.
His attempts to get back at her were more clumsy: plucking and tugging at her silken blouse. She laughed between kisses, not trying to resist. By the time she had his shirt open all the way, her blouse was handing over her shoulders, exposing smooth dark skin, the cleavage of her breasts and just a silver sliver of her bra and one dangling strap. At this point Astoria’s mouth had tracked its way down past Harry’s belly button and into his happy trail and the tension in his crotch was nearly unbearable. The look on her face told him that she knew it too.
Her grip squeezed at his hips.
“Take yours the rest of the way off and so will I?” Harry asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“That’s the idea.”
Their clothes disappeared in a flash, well not disappeared so much as just taken off and thrown well clear of the bed. Harry’s shirt and trousers and underpants were gone in the time it took Astoria to remove her blouse and unzip her skirt.
“Back down you go,” she said and Harry felt a burst of irritation.
Irritation that quickly faded as Astoria climbed back on top of her in her full glory. Her lingerie was, as it turned out, a matching set of softest, silver lace and silk. The stockings Harry had admired sheathed her legs in silver, held up by a gather belt and the bra encased her full round breasts, lifting and presenting them but the translucent fabric did nothing to spoil Harry’s eager gaze or disguise the shape of her erect, broad brown nipples.
There were no knickers. There was nothing between her legs apart from glistening folds and a stripe of black curls.
Her grip was firm as she directed him to her entrance. Her brows creased as she lowered herself down, her slickness easing it as his width spread her apart. She panted, but her face lost its strain as she started to ride him, slowly grinding herself down and around him, shifting her weight back and forth.
He didn’t know how long she rode him, he tried to distract himself from the growing pressure in his balls, he concentrated on his breathing, on old quidditch plays, on the way Astoria’s hair had come of out its bindings to flow down past her shoulders in waves, swaying and tousled with her movements. It was no good; it all came back to her.
As her legs began to tremble, Harry’s hands moved to her arse, urging her up and down on him as they both slipped in a glorious long awaited release.
They rested for a time on top of Harry’s sheets, trying to remember how their limbs worked. After a while Astoria figured out enough to clumsily come to her feet, find her wand and conjure a robe to cover herself.
“Tomorrow,” Harry said, lying back in his bed, arms under his head. “We’re doing it in your room.”
“We’ll see,” Astoria replied, arching a brow at him.
The superior look didn’t work through the afterglow and wild hair. So Harry just grinned back.
“Yes, I will.”