Harry Tries Femmeslash - H/G - NC-17
Title: Harry Tries Femmeslash
Author: shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17
Word Count : 1230

For the wonderful lnalvgd, for her birthday.

I really should write Harry/Ginny more often, they are so good for each other!

Many thanks to magicofisis for the beta!


Harry Tries Femmeslash
****
I’m sure Hermione could have managed quite happily without a television. She’d spent so little time back in the Muggle world that she had completely got out of the habit of watching anything, and she’d rather spend the evening with a good book and her feet in Ron’s lap, anyway.

That was her weakness.

Ron.

For reasons know only to herself, and I certainly never pried too closely, my brother had her wrapped around his little…

Well.

Admittedly, it was entirely mutual; he fawned over the girl. I’d admit it was rather cute, but only under torture.

Or under Harry, but only because he got delightfully embarrassed if I speculated about their sex life.

She loved him, and she barely protested when he pouted pathetically and bought a television. Or when he pouted pathetically and asked her how the plugs worked.

He’s as bad as our dad, sometimes – and Dad is the reason Hermione won’t allow a satellite dish and seven hundred channels.

Ron’d watch it all day, if Hermione didn’t put her foot down.

And her tongue down.

His throat.

He and Harry watch strange sporting events that Ron barely understands, yet supports randomly and passionately.

Harry watches all the programmes his aunt never let him, and has a DVD of the complete Bagpuss hidden in his sock drawer.

Sometimes, Luna and Neville come over, too, and we watch Friends and argue about who is who – well, obviously Luna is Phoebe, and Ron and I have to be Ross and Monica, no matter how much we protest. I married his best friend. Hermione hates being Rachel, even once she has a career. Neville has been catnip to the ladies, ever since the war.

Hermione and I watch romantic films, and Harry and Ron tease us.

Tonight, Harry and Ron were meeting the other Gryffindor Boys at the Three Broomsticks, for their monthly drink. Hermione and I pretend to object, but they are rather adorable when they come home half-drunk, half-sentimental and half-randy. It is actually a lovely combination, if you know how to take advantage of it. I know Ron is far more demonstrative with Hermione, when his defences are lowered.

And Harry is always intrigued by the latest sexual exploits that Seamus has described to them in eye watering detail, and he is more likely to let his inhibitions go, even if he won’t go as far as Seamus. He’s a lot better than he used to be, but he is still twitchy about certain… acts.

So, Hermione benefits from the alcohol loosening Ron’s tongue, and I benefit when it… stiffens Harry’s.

Tonight, Hermione and I were watching television when the boys Flooed back to the flat, and it was late and there was something really scary on, and Hermione and I were clinging together, her hands clutching mine tightly where I was digging my nails into her leg, her face turned into my hair as I buried mine in her neck.

The Floo flared and our men stumbled in and Harry gasped, “Fuck!”

I peeped out at him, but something blood-soaked happened on the screen and I moaned and practically crawled into Hermione’s lap.

“Home,” Harry croaked, picking my hand up from Hermione’s lap and Side-Alonging me away.

“Harry?” I asked, as we landed on our bed. “We could have said goodbye – you could at least have let me get my shoes!”

“Seamus,” he muttered, his hand sliding under my shirt and closing on my breast.

“Ginny,” I said sternly. “I have better boobs than Seamus.”

“Seamus had a threesome,” he muttered, frantically and clumsily unbuttoning me, with one hand inside my shirt and one out.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He finally got my shirt off and, finding I’d already unbuttoned my jeans, dragged them off, with my knickers. I watched his flushed face as he stripped his own clothes off, ripping his belt out of his jeans so swiftly it cracked like a whip, and rejoined me on the bed.

I blessed our oversexed Irishman.

Harry knelt between my legs, his cock rubbing against me as he leant down and muttered into my skin between kisses.

“Two women.” He nuzzled between my breasts. “And they didn’t just touch him.” His hands cupping them and squeezing them together. “They touched each other; they kissed and they sucked on each other’s…” He suckled first on one aching nipple, and then the other. “He fucked one from behind.” His fingers slid between my legs as he crawled down my body, placing random kisses. I spread my legs and he moaned. “And she…” His tongue touched my clit. “The other girl lay in front of her and she went down on her. While Seamus fucked her.” He lapped slowly – too slowly – at me, his tongue running softly up each side of my clit as he slid a finger inside me. “Each time he pushed into her,” two fingers pushed deep inside and twisted,” he pushed her face into… into…”

His mouth finally closed on my clit and he sucked in rhythm with his exploring fingers.

I tangled my hands in his hair, holding his head in place as I pushed up into his mouth, writhing and jerking under him until I finished seeing stars. Finally loosening my hold on his hair, and the death grip my thighs had on his head without my even noticing, I tugged him towards me, and he arrived in my arms.

He kissed me and I sucked hungrily on his tongue, enjoying the fact that he tasted of me, that he’d been desperate to use his mouth on me.

“You like the idea of a threesome, do you?” I asked, one hand cradling the back of his head as we kissed, the other sliding between our bodies to grasp his cock and guide it into me.

“Not exactly,” he murmured, before hissing as he slid inside. “Oh, fuck, Gin.”

“Ah,” I said, grinning up at him as he took his weight on his arms and started thrusting. “You like the girl-on-girl bit.”

“Not exactly,” he said, lowering his head to bite on my neck.

“Then what?” I asked, wrapping my legs round him and pulling his arse towards me with my heels.

“I didn’t really get turned on by the girl-on-girl thing,” he whispered, “not until we got back to Ron’s and saw you and Hermione clinging together, like that.”

“Harry!” I protested, arching my back to grind against him. “We were scared!”

“But your face was pressed against her neck.” He kissed me behind my ear. “And your hand was between her legs…”

He groaned and thrust hard, crying out as he spilt himself into me.

When he’d stopped twitching, he lifted his head for a soft kiss.

“Wow,” he said, looking a bit embarrassed at how uninhibited he’d been.

“Would you really want to watch me and Hermione together?” I asked, mainly to distract him.

I was pleasantly surprised to feel his cock throb inside me at the words.

“Only sort of,” he admitted. “I mean, I would. I would, but I couldn’t do it alone, and Ron so couldn’t watch with me. I mean, he was really interested in Seamus’s story – couldn’t get back to Hermione fast enough – but he Flooed home to find his wife and his sister all… frotty and stuff. Probably couldn’t even get it up for her, after that!”