Harry cried out as his orgasm erupted, sending squirt after squirt of his semen into his
fiancé, who cried out as her release washed over her, too. Together, the soggy, sweaty pair
collapsed together on the bed, panting heavily.
You’re so good.
..” Hermione muttered slowly, feeling Harry’s spunk trickling out of
her onto his softening tool. “So very good.
He grinned slightly, feeling her begin to drift off to sleep. It was a curious aspect of their
relationship; after sex, Harry always felt energised and ready for more, while Hermione was
the one who began to sleep. He wasn’t adverse to it, since he enjoyed waking her up with a
screaming orgasm, which was always satisfying. “Sleep, Hermione.” He cooed softly to her.
M’Kay.” She mewed as Harry pulled himself off her, mewing again when she felt him
slip out. “Sleepy.
He kissed her, smiling at her half-hearted efforts to kiss him back. “I need a drink.” He
whispered, hearing her grunt slightly as he got off the bed. Pressing a final kiss to her cheek,
Harry left the bedroom.
Harry enjoyed walking naked around the house, especially on a relatively cool summer
evening, while he was sweaty as hell. Of course, the fact that he was staying with his soon-to-
be-in-laws made the act just a little more naughty. Hermione, although she never admitted it,
loved the nakedness too, but she was a little more shy about it than he was.
He entered the kitchen, spotting Emma sitting at the table with a coffee and a book. She
looked up when he entered and froze slightly, before turning, as conspicuously as possible,
back to her back.
Evening, Emma.” Harry said as he ambled to the sink, grabbing a clean glass from the
drainer. “Nice night.”
Hmm.” Emma said, not looking up.
As he ran the tap, wanting to get to the colder water, he glanced over at her. “Good
Mmmhmm.” She grunted, still not looking up at him, for obvious reasons.
Harry smiled as he filled his glass with water, before draining half the contents and
refilling. Once he was less parched, he turned off the tap, and strolled over to the table. Emma
was making certain to stare intently at her book, although the lack of eye-movement clearly
proved she wasn’t reading.
.. what brings you to the kitchen at this hour?” Harry asked, resting against the
table, the cool wood remarkably satisfying against his buttocks.