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SD: CH57 - A Fun Meal
🕑 Added 2023-05-04 15:58:55 +0000 UTCThe dinner was unexpectedly lavish. A stone edifice, representing a hedge, easily seven feet tall, ran from one end of the dinner table to the other. Innately sculptured leafs and twigs sprouted out of it, holding pans filled with a wide variety of dishes and chilled beverages. There was a bar shelf on the other side of the table, and just as long, but it was closed off, likely because Amelia was the only person above drinking age. The dinner table in the middle boasted of a pure black granite construction, the ends twisting and billowing outward like a cloak, guaranteeing each person a degree of privacy. The entire set up would have fit a party with at least a dozen people sitting in.
Instead it was just three of us.
After Susan’s hasty retreat, I had allowed myself a moment to let the Natural Demon perk dissipate. After a quick round of minor bleeding, I cast Vulnera Sanentur upon myself. The experience left me short of breath, but at least the pains and the bleeding was gone for good. I had ditched a formal robe, and settled for a shirt and slacks, and came down to dinner, and found Susan and Amelia standing there, talking. Amelia was wearing a black and white summer dress, heeled sandals and had her hair up in a ponytail that let her red hair fall in waves halfway down her slender back. The dress was cut to just below mid thigh and although the neckline did not show a lot of cleavage, it still showed some and clung loosely to her curves, showing them off perfectly.
“Oh, you, uh, you’ve arrived,” said Amelia, “come, have a seat.”
I noticed how she avoided my eyes, and centred her gaze somewhere below my nose. I didn’t know if she was feeling guilty of whatever happened between us, or she was just shy, but it was clear that she wanted to pretend that nothing had changed between us since the morning. It was obvious that she was feeling horny still, but she refused to act upon them, at least in front of Susan.
Speaking of Susan, she had it worse. She darted glances at me when she thought her aunt wasn’t looking, and was doing her utmost to look like she was still the composed, legacy-driven Bones heiress and not someone who had just had the first taste of the forbidden fruit. Both women were conflicted in their own ways, and wanted to avoid being seen doing something the other would disapprove, and dismally failing to keep up appearances.
At the very least, I mused, they won’t notice things very much.
Which meant I could move ahead with my plan.
I walked over past Amelia, taking the seat to her right, my fingers slowly crawling across her splendid arse. I took careful notice of the way she suddenly stiffened and brought her legs together, but her facial expression didn’t change in the slightest. I sat down, directly opposite Susan, with Amelia to my left, the dining table essentially hiding everything below the abdomen from view.
And then the crockery came alive.
It took every bit of control to not squeak at the suddenness of it all. As used as I was to magic casually breaking the laws of nature, I still did the majority of the simple tasks the muggle way, not using magic unless necessary. In my mind, magic was simply one of the many tools the mind used to get results. The mind was the more important part of the pair.
Obviously the Bones, like most purebloods, did things differently.
The crockery floated over to our plates, and began to auto-serve the dishes. There was truffle chicken and potato gratin, pomegranate salmon, tangled asparagus salad on toast, spiced aubergine bake with a yorkshire pudding for dessert. Amelia must have noticed my lack of familiarity with them and aided me. I could smell the scent of wildflowers on her, Amelia shivering from our closeness even though she didn’t acknowledge it, settling back on her chair once she was done.
Stubbornness. Well, now, time to see how stubborn she really was.
“So, Amelia,” I began, “I was talking to Susan earlier, and she had lots of interesting things to say about being an heiress.”
Amelia’s eyes snapped at Susan who determinedly avoided her gaze, only for her to fall back on my face.
“Being an heiress…” She repeated.
“I mean, an heir, heiress, whatever. Last scion of an Ancient and Noble family. Is it really true that we’ve to follow some protocol for that?”
Amelia’s lips pursed slightly, no doubt wondering about what Susan might have told me. Regardless of our recent intimacy, she was a woman deeply-rooted in her beliefs. A little fun time was not going to change that.
“Of course,” she said, “being a part of an Ancient and Noble lineage means following protocol. It is through things like that that we show respect to those that came before us.”
“Legacy.”
“Right,” she said, chewing a piece of chicken, which, in my opinion, was really good. “Every wizard or witch worthy of being called an heir has to follow them, and maintain the bloodline.”
“I’m assuming that there is more to maintaining bloodlines than just bigotry.”
Her lips thinned. “There definitely is. Tell me, Lord Potter, have you accessed the Potter Grimoire?”
“I have.”
“And have you started learning from it?”
I shook my head. The minimum requirement for starting the Grimoire was a fifty percent affinity in Transfiguration, which unfortunately, I still didn’t have. But that was only a temporary stop-gap at best, because my plans with Tracey would uplift my affinity soon.
“And why didn’t you?”
“The spells are beyond me. I tried performing them, sometimes even for hours. But the spells do not work.”
A thin frown appeared on her lips. “Did you know, Harry, that your father, and his father before, started studying the Potter grimoire from the moment they received their wands?”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Same for your great-grandfather Charlus Potter, and his father Natheniel.”
“I think he gets the point, Auntie,” Susan mumbled.
Amelia looked like she was about to scold her, but controlled herself. “Every single Lord of your family has been able to do that. Any guesses why?”
Because they had 50% affinity or more, I didn’t say.
“They were more naturally gifted than me?”
“Exactly,” said Amelia, a vindictive smile on her face. “The Potters have cultivated a strong affinity for Transfiguration and passed it down generation to generation. And every single time a Lord has taken a wife, it has been a precondition that she must display a significant prowess in Transfiguration or its sub-disciplines. Your great-grandmother Dorea Black, was an animagus, an owl to be exact. Your grandmother Euphemia, as I mentioned, was a Bones. We Bones are exquisitely gifted at organic transfiguration and runecraft, part of our Scandinavian heritage right down from the great sorcerer and god-king Odin, creator of the Elder Futhark and the father of runecraft.”
I nodded, realising where this was going. “My mother on the other hand…”
“Lily Evans was gifted at more esoteric branches of magic. Her scores in Arithmancy were some of the highest Hogwarts had ever seen. She could have become a spellcrafter had things been different.”
“But she was not suited for James Potter,” I said bluntly.
“Yes.”
Susan winced.
“Well, too bad about that really,” I said. “Unfortunately, I can’t change my mother.”
Her features cracked, and she clasped my left hand softly. “Do not misunderstand me, Harry. I’m not saying that she did not deserve your father—”
“Just that she did not fit the prerequisites for Lady Potter.” I finished.
“Yes.”
“Auntie,” Susan exclaimed, “don’t you think you’re being too rude?”
Amelia arched an eyebrow at her. How she was able to channel annoyance and grace in that tiny gesture was beyond me.
“I’m merely satisfying his curiosity, Susan. It’s best that he understands what is expected of him.”
“You’re not Regent Potter, Auntie,” Susan snapped.
“I might as well be,” Amelia said coldly. “Who else has he got that can tell him what his family was like? His muggleborn mother’s sister who abused him while growing up? Or Albus Dumbledore, who’s more than happy to keep him in the dark? Sirius Black perhaps, oh, he betrayed them and was kissed by Dementors. Or maybe James’s pet werewolf. I hear he was your Defence instructor and in less than a year, turned an innocent into a monster like himself.”
I winced.
Susan looked like she wanted to drop her spoon and walk away, but protocol kept from acting out. The discussion had gotten out of hand and needed a quick change. Naturally, it fell on me.
“So what you’re saying is,” I said, biting into a potato, “I should take a Bones woman as my wife.”
And just like that, the atmosphere changed. Susan’s features shifted from resentment to embarrassment in a heartbeat. If I were an artist, I’d have called the shift from one reddish tinge to another was absolutely exquisite. Amelia on the other hand, coughed into her hand, and looked down at her plate which had suddenly become a lot more interesting.
“Well, I'm not saying exactly that…” she began, and froze, as my left hand crawled upon her right thigh.
At the exact same time, I pushed my right leg upwards, and rubbed Susan’s shin with my foot. Susan all but squeaked, turning an intense shade of crimson, but otherwise did nothing.
“You were saying, Amelia?” I offered.
Amelia gave me a dirty look, and quickly glanced at Susan, and found her focused on her food. Slowly, she slipped her right hand under the table to push my hand away, but as she did, I moved her hand aside and put mine on her creamy thigh. Once again she tried to move my hand, but I just did the same.
“There’s something you’ll find interesting, Susan,” I said out loud, surprising both of them. “Turns out Sirius Black made me his heir. And yes, it means there’s a chance that I’ll end up being Lord Black.”
Amelia took advantage of my conversation and tried to move my hand, but I repeated my earlier actions.
“But didn’t he betray your parents?” Susan asked.
“No, he was innocent. In fact, it’s one of the things I came to talk to your aunt today. Isn’t that right, Amelia?”
“Ye— yes, that’s correct.” She said, giving me a look that told me to stop, but I didn’t care. We kept pushing each other’s hands under the table.
“Wow, that’s just…” Susan mumbled, squeaking again as I raised my leg further, reaching her thigh. She flushed and with as much inconspicuousness as she could manage, put her left hand below the table. I felt her pull her skirt upwards, letting me unfettered access to her skin.
“I know right?” I went on, pretending all was normal, while continuing my little game of wills against her aunt. “In fact, Amelia, I read somewhere that becoming a Lord of multiple houses has its own protocol too. Something about taking a wife for each house. Is that really true?”
‘Are you shitting me right now?’, her look promised.
“Oh, pass me the asparagus, please,” I said.
Amelia thinly smiled, and directed the needful at me, but in doing so, had to raise her hand. I slid mine up her smooth thigh right away, pushing my fingers under her skirt and given that Susan was looking at her, Amelia couldn’t even try to push me back without appearing conspicuous. She couldn’t tell me to stop because even that would attract attention.
In hindsight, she could have just pushed the chair back.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she clamped her legs tightly to stop my hand from invading any further, and would have probably glared at me if Susan wasn’t looking. Instead she gave me a wide smile that promised certain injury if she got her hands on me later, and nodded briefly, acknowledging my point and ignoring that my fingers were inches away from her pussy.
“You’re right, Harry. If you indeed become Lord Black, then you’ll have to marry someone that fits the requirements of the Black Charter. From what I know of that family, it’ll likely be a pureblood of considerable pedigree, with an inclination towards the Dark Arts. That is, assuming it even allows marrying anyone out of the Family.”
“Now that would be problematic,” I said casually. “The only Black female I know of that’s still unmarried is Nymphadora Tonks, and I doubt she’d want to marry me.”
Susan choked on her food as my foot climbed up her thigh. Just a little more and I’d touch her snatch.
“Susan!” Amelia cried, her parental instincts acting out, “you alright?”
Susan coughed a little but nodded.
Amelia nodded, concern shining in her face as she sat back down. It was right then that she realised her vital mistake, and crossed her legs again, but I was faster. I pushed my hand straight under her skirt and pressed my fingers over her panties. It was a curious case where her own legs were keeping my hand from moving any further, but at the same time, kept me from pulling it away from resting against her wetness without her loosening her grip.
It was quite a situation, and Susan was looking at her. I suppressed the urge to laugh at her dirty glare.
And then I started moving my fingers. I traced the outline of her folds with my thumb, while my middle finger furrowed into her pussy from above her cotton panties, my index finger roughly massaging the outer layer of her clit.
Amelia shuddered and exhaled heavily, no doubt feeling the effects. Her legs still held my hand locked, but other than reaching into her lap and attracting attention, there was nothing she could do. So she sat, just like that, doing her best to chew her dinner and explaining the different tenets of pureblood protocol to me. At one point, I even questioned her about the unfairness meted upon witches by a system that allowed men to engage in polygamy. It was a beautiful sight, seeing Amelia react to the pleasure feeding into her system, as she gave me a minor dissertation on how pureblood protocol allowed polyandry as well, and how several Ancient families were actually matrilineal, and in some cases, the Lady of the House maintained multiple concubinus, like the Zabini family. Susan added her two knuts by mentioning the Rosier family, only to blush crimson as my foot rubbed above her panties.
Interestingly, the more I played with Amelia, the more relaxed she began to get, and even began smiling, continuing to talk further on the subject. At one point, she stopped tensing her legs and opened them, and immediately, my fingers crawled beneath her panties into her soft, pliant pussy.
Amelia sighed audibly.
“Auntie?” Susan asked.
“Oh— I, uh, never mind. I guess I ate a bit too much,” she lied, doing her best to ignore the pleasurable sensations from my thumb rubbing the inner lining of her folds. I noticed how she bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle a moan and slouched a little, allowing me further access into her pussy.
One finger became two.
Two became three.
I smiled at my success. There I was, sitting at the dining table, finger-fucking Amelia Bones and pleasuring Susan with my feet at the same time. Both women were blushing to their neck, and utterly ignorant of each other’s situations.
Then it happened.
Amelia began to squirm, and a moment later, Susan did too.
“I, uhm,” said Susan, “I need to visit the bathroom, please excuse me.”
Amelia was too happy to excuse her, as she slouched further, ignorant of the way Susan dashed towards the loo. She gave me a look of pure desire and grabbed my hand and pushed it further into her folds.
“You…” she growled, still holding my wrist as I ploughed her pussy. “You are a very bad boy!”
And then her body shook.
“Ugh! Fuck! Yes!” She groaned, landing her head against the table with an audible thud, as she gripped the edge of the tabletop with her other hand, as her pussy flooded with an undeniably powerful orgasm. She shut her eyes, and forced my fingers deeper, as she kept squirting juices and coating my fingers with them.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I asked, withdrawing my fingers as I smiled at her. I stood up, revealing my cock, which had gone full erect again. “Think it’s my turn now.”
I moved towards her and grabbed her chin and kissed her roughly, shoving my tongue into her mouth. Amelia’s only reply was to moan further and hold on to the table top for dear life.
“We— we can’t do it here,” she said at last.
“Why?”
“Susan—”
“Send her away.”
“Won’t help,” Amelia whispered furiously. “She’ll still be able to hear.”
“We can be quiet.”
“Quiet? With that cock in me?”
I arched an eyebrow. She wasn’t even trying to pretend otherwise. We were going to fuck this night. That was a given. The ‘How’ needed addressing.
“Find a way to send Susan off,” I smirked, “unless you want her to listen.”
“No,” she whispered. “Merlin damn me. You’re going to be my death.” She paused, considering it for a moment. “I’ll send her off. We can use my office.”
I smirked. “Of course, Director Bones.”
Comments
Clint Thunder
More Brit picking for you, Yorkshire pudding is not a dessert. It's savoury side dish, and is usually eaten as part of a Sunday roast or cooked with sausages as toad in the hole. My suggestion would be to change it to "with a spotted dick for dessert"
Paradox25
Me gustó cómo se evaluco que los sangre pura buscan parejas compatibles entre sus líneas de sangre
