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Enchanted Fluids ch.2
🕑 Added 2023-06-13 21:24:01 +0000 UTCHarry Potter spoke to her, tapping her on the shoulder. "You really took care of it," he said, trying to sound approving. "Thanks for taking the initiative."
"Yeah, sure," she shrugged, feigning indifference. "I'm glad all those years of moving furniture back and forth finally paid off with something worthwhile."
"Well, I wouldn't say 'finally,'" he replied. "I mean, all those relocations led you to work here with me, and I think that's pretty good."
Harry tried to be straightforward; he enjoyed working with Tracey. She was diligent and intelligent. However, he could sense from her facial expression that his compliment was a bit too sweet for her taste.
What happened next is something I may never fully explain. Tracey reached behind the counter, inadvertently giving Harry a glimpse of her well-shaped rear, accentuated by those tight spandex shorts. When she turned around, catching his gaze, she smiled flirtatiously at him.
"Hey," she said, pulling out a tall bottle of bourbon from a brown paper bag. "Want to get drunk and goof around?"
Harry stuttered, unsure of how to respond. I'll take that as a "yes," he managed to say. Tracey leaned over the counter again, grabbing a wand and conjuring two glasses. "It's not the most impressive place, but I'm a cheap date."
"Great," Harry coughed, trying to regain his composure. "Super."
She poured a full cup of cheap bourbon for Harry. The taste was sharp and bitter in his mouth. Effortlessly, she downed her own drink and immediately refilled Harry's cup. The taste hadn't even left his mouth when she put the cup back to his lips, enticing him to drink. Harry coughed and spat, finding a spot on the floor to sit, but he managed to swallow it all.
Tracey slumped down beside him, pressing her legs against his. Harry couldn't understand how the situation had escalated, but he didn't mind. Tracey was stunning, and the fact that she was making a move on him was more than okay.
As the last drop of bourbon settled, she refilled Harry's cup again, but this time with less than before. However, she didn't press him to drink more.
"I don't think an honest conversation is possible without at least two glasses of good liquor for both sides," she explained. "I hope you don't mind."
"Sure," Harry replied, still feeling the effects of alcohol coursing through his body. His tongue sought relief from the bitter taste. "Sure. What kind of honesty are you looking for?"
"Any kind!" she exclaimed, spreading her arms wide. "For instance, I know you were looking at me when everything went to hell."
Harry Potter rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Give him some damn credit, will you? You think a girl like me doesn't know when a guy I work with is checking me out?" Harry recoiled, and she hit him. "No, you're damn right. I'm an idiot for bringing it up. Let's go back to how it was before, okay? I'm just a pretty girl who's unaware of how society perceives me and how men objectify women."
"I didn't... check you out. It's just, you know, you're fucking amazing. Sometimes I glance." Harry furrowed his brow, and even his furrows were beautiful, but there was a hint of playfulness in it. "Ugh, if you're gonna be this honest, I don't know how I'm gonna have fun with you." "You asked for honesty."
"Yeah." Harry nodded and took another long sip of bourbon. "We'll probably lose our damn jobs soon. What do you think?"
"Yeah." For a moment, Harry looked at the work they had accomplished that day, trying to come up with something wise to say. Earlier, when he talked to Tracey, he thought she was out of his league. He considered himself decent-looking, with dark hair and a perpetual five o'clock shadow because he always forgot to shave in the morning. He kept himself in shape, eating well and getting around the city on foot or by bike because he despised magical transportation.
But Tracey was simply stunning. Her jawline and chin, so elegant and regal, made his heart ache. And she was smart. And hardworking. He wondered why someone like her hadn't started her own company yet, even at the age of twenty-four.
Nevertheless, it was easier to talk to her when he thought she would never be interested. Now his tongue stumbled, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"It seems damn pointless, doesn't it?" He gestured with his hand to the shelves. "Like building a damn stack factory on top of a bonfire."
Tracey burst into laughter, a deep, hearty laugh that made her chest bounce. Smiling, she looked stunning, and the knowledge that it was Harry who made her laugh like that warmed his heart.
"A stack factory? Seriously, dude? Is that all you can afford?" Harry shrugged. "Well, you wouldn't build a bonfire factory on top of a bonfire. That would be fucking hilarious. No way Mr. Delacour would invest in such a company."
Mr. Delacour was Fleur's father. A big man with big appetites and an even greater dislike for Harry. He hid it well, but just from the handshake alone, Harry could tell he viewed him as a silly summer fling for his daughter. And damn, he was right.
Tracey's foot slid against Harry's foot, and her smile was full of anticipation. It seemed to say, "Later, I'm gonna blow your mind." Both of them kicked off their shoes, and now Tracey took off her socks, revealing toes painted in a light pink shade. Her warm fingers slowly slid down Harry's sock, and the tickling sensation of her fingers on his foot made him grimace.
"Where's her royal highness now?" Harry asked. "You mean Fleur?"
"Of course. Any other princesses you know of?" Tracey's tone hinted at some hidden joke. Fleur wasn't intimidating, but Harry had no intention of admitting that to Tracey, not now.
"She's in South America. I think Ecuador. Probably living like royalty."
"Are you still in touch with her?"
"Not really. We exchanged a few letters, but basically... you know, we're done."
"Damn." Tracey's foot slid further up Harry's ankle. She didn't sound too disappointed. "You must miss seducing her. I'm not gay, but nobody's that damn straight. It must have been like winning the prize for the best century seducer. Am I right?"
Harry chuckled. "I don't know. Let's say we're just as physically engaged now as we've ever been." Tracey looked genuinely surprised. "You never slept with her?"
"No. I couldn't convince her that it was worth her time. Maybe she isn't."
"Pffft. Don't say that. Sex is worth everyone's time."
Harry shrugged, taking a long sip of bourbon. "I don't know."
The alcohol was starting to affect him; otherwise, he wouldn't have revealed his virgin status so freely.
"What?" Tracey shook her head, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What? No way." She playfully hit him, then again. "No way! You're a virgin?"
"God, could you say it louder?"
"But you're... you're..." She gestured with her hands. "How is that possible? You're cute."
Hearing someone like Tracey call him attractive boosted Harry's ego significantly. However, he wasn't sharp enough to recognize it as an opportunity for easy flirting.
He managed to blush shyly and averted his gaze before muttering, "Thanks."
"Oh my god, you're so bashful. It all makes sense now. Oh god!"
Tracey rolled forward, embracing Harry tightly. The foot that rested on his foot now turned into her whole leg, and her thigh was nestled between his. Her skin was warm and vibrant, and he longed to run his fingers along her ankle all the way up to her thigh.
"God, that's why you never made a move on me, right?" Tracey exclaimed.
"Are you... I mean, interested?" Harry asked, though it seemed like a dumb question. But what could he say? He was an unwitting virgin, with limited knowledge about flirting, attractiveness, and even sex. He had previous girlfriends, but like Fleur, those relationships never progressed beyond dating. He supposed that made him a prime failure, but his priorities lay elsewhere. Education was paramount, and once that was completed, he wasn't sure how to navigate social situations.
"Sure!" She hugged Harry even tighter, her ample and firm breasts pressing against his arm. "I mean, interested enough for a quick fuck, you know. Nothing serious. I'm not like... how you sometimes describe Fleur? I'm not like that. I'm not the super-serious 'let's start a family' type. God, no. I'm just... you know. Sex is fun, okay? So whatever we do, it's about having a good time, alright? Don't make me the crisis virgin."
Suddenly, Harry found himself in a situation where he was negotiating the terms of engagement, of which he was unaware.
"Okay." He took another long sip of bourbon, and Tracey refilled his cup with a smile. "And what if it was just a handjob?"
He was too afraid to ask for more. His own sexuality (or lack thereof) weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't fathom being anything else to someone else, especially not to a true beauty like Tracey.
"You never had a handjob?"
"No, if I'm the one doing it."
She chuckled, running her hand up her neck and then slowly down her body. Leaning forward, she gave Harry an amazing view of her cleavage. Her hand moved to his crotch, gently massaging his bulge.
"That doesn't count, really. Handjobs are kind of amateurish. Especially when I can just suck your cock instead." Tracey slid down completely onto his legs, spreading them as she sat on her heels. Her head moved towards his crotch, and with a shy but eager smile, she unbuttoned his pants. Her long, thick hair cascaded down onto his thighs in beautiful dark waves. It was the sexiest sight he had ever seen. "Would that be okay?"
"Yes. Absolutely. Please."
Once again, she giggled. "I know it would be okay, you silly. God, you're easy. If the girls in Slytherin knew, you wouldn't have been a virgin for long."
Soon, she had his still somewhat soft cock fully exposed. Her hand ran up and down, caressing it slowly as she licked her lips, savoring his quivering response.
"I want you to let me know when you're about to come, okay? I just did the laundry, and I don't want to have it on my shirt."
Harry obediently nodded. Tracey was in control, and he had no objections. Her mouth enveloped his member, emitting a luxurious hum from her throat. Instinctively, his hands found their way into her hair, possessively gripping her skull. Her dark, thick locks were so mesmerizing that he almost wanted to fuck them just as much as her mouth. However, he kept his hips still, allowing Tracey to set the pace.
And God, Tracey set the pace. Her adept mouth effortlessly slid up and down Harry's cock. Her tongue teased the base of his shaft, quickly bringing him to full hardness. Soon, he pulsed in her mouth, eliciting surprised moans as he grew and pressed deeper into her throat. A soft, eager laugh escaped from her throat, delighted by something unknown to him. He hoped it was about his taste, his size—he considered himself decently endowed, measuring nine inches with the right thickness—but honestly, he had no point of reference.
Like any virgin, Harry lacked endurance. His cum shot out, and he felt the change in her rhythm. It became almost mechanical, automatic. Her moans intensified, and her fingers slid down to her pussy, barely concealed by her tiny shorts. Soon, that divine goddess pleasured herself, slurping up his cum. It was too much for him. He couldn't hold back any longer.
"I'm about to come," he gasped. "You don't have to, you don't have to... Oh God, fuck..."
She simply moaned and sucked harder, a true professional in cock-sucking. Her tongue twirled around his shaft with increasing speed, enticing him to release. He assumed her previous request to let her know when he was about to come was so he could finish elsewhere. But now, she seemed determined to swallow every drop he had to offer. He couldn't refuse her.
"Oh fuck... fuck, fuck, Tracey... Oh God... I'm about to come..."
He erupted in her mouth and throat, seemingly endless streams of pleasure. It was the most exhilarating moment in his young life, emptying his load into the eager, satisfied mouth of this stunning brunette. Slowly, reluctantly, her suction eased, and he withdrew from her incredible, beautiful lips.
She sat back, still kneeling with her mouth open, breathing heavily. His cum dribbled down her chin and began to trickle towards her shirt. Leaning forward, he collected it, halting its progress—and instinctively, he slipped his finger back into her mouth. She moaned and sucked on his fingers.
Fuck, that was sexy, he thought.
"That was amazing," he said slowly, his heart still pounding.
"That was... amazing."
"No, really," he panted. "That was amazing."
"No, really. That was amazing."
