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SD: CH27 - The Unexpected Guest Part 1
🕑 Added 2022-12-04 15:38:57 +0000 UTCCynthia Abbott hated Wednesdays. Maybe if she had a nine-to-five job, she could have welcomed it as an average day, but with her work hours toiling by her lonesome, it just meant the week was half over and the next half was probably gonna be just as bad. She had only just finished with the customers for the afternoon, closed the door, and was resting on her couch, wondering where her elf was. As a devout Christian turned muggle born witch, all she had after marriage to a wealthy pureblood James Abbott was a lifetime of misery, a batty old elf that looked like it could fall dead any moment, and a daughter that was neck-deep in debt to her pureblood uncle in return of keeping themselves afloat. Still, she wasn’t expecting any customers until evening, so it was a surprise when the doorbell rang. Mentally preparing herself to rebuff whatever ruffian had disturbed her, she walked towards the door, annoyed by the insistent ringing.
Instead, she got by the familiar brown hair of her assailant. “Hannah!” She greeted, “this is a surprise. I didn’t know you’d be coming.”
Hannah could barely come home, even during summers. During those three months, her uncle Gideon, current Lord of House Abbott and an all-around douchebag, wanted his niece at his manor to train her on being a ‘nice, pureblood wife.’ The reality was that Gideon was a pedophile that took advantage of her youthful form, and forced himself upon her during those months, while also training her to bag a rich, pureblood husband and get Gideon a healthy ransom, enough to cover all the investment he made on Hannah.
And more.
Several times over.
“Hi Mum!” Hannah said, pulling back from the hug. “I’ve a guest today.”
“Guest?” Cynthia’s brows furrowed. Hannah could never bring guests to this eatery. All of her ‘guests’ were to be entertained at Abbott Manor, as befitted the daughter of a pureblood house, albeit one that still went by her muggle born mother’s family name.
“Umm, mum,” Hannah exclaimed, her face flushed. “You know who Harry Potter is, right?”
Cynthia blinked. Harry Potter? Of course, she knew who that was. Who wouldn’t? The Boy-Who-Lived was a public hero, and a celebrity. Cynthia knew he was supposedly in Hannah’s year, but her daughter had never mustered the courage to go talk to him.
“What of him?”
Hannah took a step to the left, and Cynthia saw a vaguely familiar figure standing a couple of feet away from them. The glasses were missing on the face, but the lightning-bolt scar was clear as day.
“Ha— Harry Potter?”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Abbott,” Harry Potter said, walking up and offering his hand, grabbing hers and giving it a shake.
“Tha—err… thanks,” Cynthia replied, feeling oddly reticent about losing the hand in his grasp. Jaded over her husband’s death and the subsequent misery, Cynthia had no time or interest in fawning over celebrities. But the moment she touched his skin, a strange warmth started spreading through her body.
“Uh, I wanted to show Harry my room,” Hannah said, directly jumping to the point. Cynthia noticed she hadn’t passed through the door yet. Chances were that if she denied her, Hannah would take him to Abbott Manor. Though why she’d bring a celebrity to this hovel instead of the manor was anybody’s guess.
“Of course dear,” Cynthia said, “are you perhaps hungry? Maybe I can make something for you two?”
“I’ll pass,” said Hannah. “Harry’s got a new house in London and is eating out of muggle takeaways. Can you believe it? I told him how you have an eatery, and he can just get his food from here.”
“Yes,” said Harry Potter. “I mean, if it isn’t any trouble.”
“Nonsense,” said Cynthia, allowing them in. “Lose the chance of having the famous Harry Potter as my customer? What am I, crazy?”
“Li’l bit,” Hannah joked. “So uh, Mum, could we….”
“Huh? Oh yes, sure.”
Cynthia smiled to herself as she put the sliced bacon into the oven, preparing her pastry plate. Most of her customers were half-bloods or the kind that spent more time in Knockturn Alley than in Diagon. To have Harry Potter as a permanent customer would enrich her reputation. Plus, he was friends with Hannah. Hannah had said she needed nothing, but it’d be so wrong if she let Harry Potter leave her eatery without having something. Maybe if he liked it, it’d cement his opinion about her eatery.
Effortlessly, she added the well-grounded spices, and waited for her Quiche Lorraine to be ready. A special dish for a special guest. Speaking of him…
Cynthia looked up.
It had been quite some time since the two had gone upstairs. Wondering if there was any problem, she cast a stasis charm on the oven and climbed up the stairs to the upper floor, intending to see if they needed any help. The light in Hannah’s room was burning bright, and through the crack of the door, she saw….
Her daughter. Naked. Bouncing on an equally naked Harry Potter. Seventeen-year-olds were supposed to be sex-crazed, but Hannah looked a little too excited.
Then Harry Potter’s cock came out.
Her breath was caught in her throat, and all the surrounding noise disappeared. Thick and meaty. Her mouth watered. Her eyes studied the thick, protruding tube underneath, which carried his dense, potent cum from his heavy swollen balls all the way to the prominent, spongy tip. She studied every inch of smooth skin, all the way to how Hannah’s juices were smeared all over it, burning it to her memory. Her eyes went to that bulbous sack, those big nuts swollen with cum that was bursting to get out.
“...Merlin!” Cynthia gasped and instantly palmed her mouth, fearing she’d be discovered. This… this wasn’t a cock. It was a work of art. She knew that her husband James hadn’t exactly been tiny, but this… this was incomparable.
And it was drilling into her daughter’s pussy.
Potter… he was sucking Hannah’s nipples, keeping her in place above him as the rest of her breasts were sliding against his face. The bed was shaking violently from their movements, but nothing, not a creak, a moan or a grunt, escaped it.
Silencing Charm, Cynthia realized. Seconds passed by, but she remained standing there, watching her daughter make-out with him with unrepentant fascination. Hannah’s hips didn’t stop for a second, continuing their rhythmic fucking. Cynthia froze, hypnotized, knowing not what to do. A small, distant part of her was surprised because her daughter could take it all inside her at once. Before she knew it, her hands were browsing through her body almost unconsciously. They fell lower and lower, before the sudden wetness of her folds sent a jolt through her.
Cynthia blinked. Had she just… pleasured herself at the sight of her daughter having sex—
She paused, her face reddening at the thought. Not sex. They were fucking.
Hard.
Her hand moved up like it had developed a mind of its own, and she pushed her wand through the small creek and whispered.
“Finite!”
And the voices exploded.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Hannah wailed. “I can’t believe how good your mouth feels on my tits! FUCK! YES! FUCKK!”
Okay. Her daughter was a screamer. Not a realization that any mother needed to have, but hey, you learnt something new every day.
“Yes! Fuck!” The Boy-Who-Lived grunted, biting her nipple, making her scream out in pleasure even louder, her pussy lips wrapped around his swollen shaft.
"You like that?" Hannah demanded, slamming her arse against his thighs, her tits hitting his chin. "You like my fucking cunt?"
"Yes! Your cunt is amazing," Potter replied quickly through clenched teeth. "It's a fucking expert cunt."
"Ugh! Yes! Fuck! You have no idea... oh yes!" she squealed, her beautiful face twisting up in pleasure. It was so wrong, but to Cynthia, those moans felt like music. She simply couldn’t get enough of it. Sliding further against the wall, Cynthia rested on her back, her own fingers digging into the folds of her pussy. As Hannah squealed and yelled, Cynthia kept increasing her motions. One finger became two. Two fingers became three. Her other hand grabbed her breasts and squeezed them tight….
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! UGH! You're the best, Harry. The best! I swear to Merlin you're the best fuck ever! Oh, YES! Fuck it!” she howled. “I swear, I'm done with Smith. I’ll only fuck a real man from now on. A real man with a huge, beefy cock, that knows how to make me scream in pleasure. UGH! YES!”
The Boy-Who-Lived fucked her even harder at that. Cynthia turned to her right, peering through the creek, watching his balls slam into her firm arse as if on autopilot.
"Potter... promise me! Fuck! Promise me one thing! Yes! One small thing!" Hannah said, barely able to talk without moaning. "Promise me... promise you'll keep fucking me even at school. Promise me.”
“I’ll fuck you anywhere.” Potter promised.
“Even when I’m with Neville?”
Neville? Neville Longbottom? Even in her lust-crazed mind, Cynthia remembered that Gideon Abbott was working with the Longbottom family. No doubt he had thrown Hannah at the Longbottom boy.
“Yes!”
“In the Huffle! Ugh! In my dorm?”
“Yes!”
“In the greenhouses?”
“Yes!”
Hannah’s eyes glinted. “In Susie’s bed?”
I barked out a laugh. “If you can arrange it.”
“I bloody will!” She panted as I kept thrusting. “Promise me you’ll fuck me in front of Susie. Make her watch! And then shoot your cum on my breasts! If she wants it, she’ll have to lick it off them.”
Susie… Susan Bones. Hannah’s best friend. Just what was going on?
“What about outside the Headmaster’s office?”
Okay, that was being a bit too brazen. Cynthia thought drolly, her own fingers rubbing furiously against her clit.
“The Headmaster’s office?” Potter asked.
“Against that! Gargoyle!” Hannah said. “I wanna cum on that stupid thing.”
"Ugh! Fuck!" Potter groaned. "Yes! Definitely!”
"Yes!" Hannah squealed out in delight.
“Yes!” Cynthia bit her lip as her first orgasm triggered, drenching her insides. Merlin, she shuddered, unable to believe it. What was happening to her? There she was, standing outside her daughter’s room. Voyeuring on her own daughter and getting off on it. What was… what was wrong with her?
“Do you want me to make you cum, Harry? Shoot your jism into—-”
…
…
Cynthia paused at the sudden intruding silence and peered into the room. Hannah was now down on all fours, with that assault weapon ramming into her behind. She was yelling; she was groaning; she was throwing her head back and screaming her lungs out, but there was no sound. As if—
As if her counter-spell had failed. Or someone had recast the silencing charm.
Obviously not Potter. He was too busy fucking her daughter. Then… her own charm must have fizzled out. Yes. That must have happened.
Had Cynthia been more sober, she’d have realized that a counter-spell didn’t fizzle out. Especially not against area-of-effect spells like the silencing charm. She’d probably have realized that there was no way the silencing charm would’ve reactivated without someone recasting it.
Cynthia didn’t care. She grabbed her wand, using her cum-stained fingers, and recast the counter-spell. And the sounds were back once more.
"—live it!” Hannah was saying. “I'm shagging Harry Potter! I’m shagging Harry Potter! Oh, this is Soooo! Goood! Oh yes! Oh yes! OH YES! YES! YES!” Cynthia watched as Potter reached up and groped her daughter’s huge, sweat-covered tits greedily. Her own cum-covered fingers rose in tandem, mimicking Potter’s actions, and began mauling her own breasts, massaging them with her own fluids, as she threw her head back in pleasure.
This… What was this feeling? Why was she being so horny just by listening to him fuck her daughter? What would it be like… to have him do the same to her? To have her bouncing on that pole, his hands on her breasts? To have him ram her against the wall and be taken and abused in every—
SPANK!
“Ahhh!” Hannah moaned, as the sound of his palm against her arse reverberated in the room. Cynthia dug deeper into herself.
SPANK! SPANK!
“FUCK!” Hannah groaned, and Cynthia hissed, feeling another orgasm around the corner. Her eyes were closed, perspiration all over her face, three fingers of her left hand deep inside her folds while her right hand was too busy rubbing her fluids against her breasts and abdomen.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
“OH! Fuck! Oh!” her daughter groaned, the sounds of her hips getting smacked against his balls sounding like a lunatic wood chipper. Every single thrust came in at blinding speed and before the sound could die out, there was the next one, and the next, and so on. Harry Potter wasn’t slowing down. He wasn’t showing mercy. He was just drilling his monstrous cock so deep into her daughter’s pussy that Cynthia feared she’d not be able to walk straight for the next week.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Wai—Wait!” Hannah kept calling out, but nothing seemed to get to Harry Potter. He didn’t let her up, and only fucked her harder and harder, slamming himself against her arse crudely, making her take his full, thick, lengthy cock in her hot, tight pussy.
“MERLIN! FUCKKKK!” Hannah screamed her lungs out, Potter drilling his monstrous cock deep into her, carving her a new one. It amazed Cynthia, who was wondering how her daughter was surviving the onslaught. Just hearing about it had brought her close to exhaustion. And to feel that monster driving into her pussy non-stop—
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Cynthia groaned, head up, her fingers deep inside her as she came. Her pussy was burning, fingers rubbing frantically against her clit. She couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter. She needed more. More of him. Wanted him to bend her and have his wicked way with her. Her body quivered as dizziness gripped her. Darkness was creeping into the corner of her vision.
“Cumming from hearing your daughter fuck. You really are a slut.”
“Yes,” Cynthia said. “Your slut.” She was struggling to get air in her lungs, her mouth open, ready to accept the cock of her dreams. And having him stand so close to her like that felt—
…
…
Cynthia froze.
And then her brain rebooted, and she realized who she was talking to.
“Hi,” said Harry Potter with a predatory grin on her face. “You look like you need some help."
Cynthia stared at him, cornered and aroused. Half of her expression swam with lust while the other half looked like a little girl who had been caught by her mother nicking cookies from the cookie jar.
Only this time, instead of her mother, she was caught with her hand in the nookie jar by Harry Fucking Potter.
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