100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,673
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,673
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Wicked
Title: Wicked
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Lite DH spoilers, oral
Summary: #100 – Wicked. Angelina loved his wickedness.
Word Count: 602 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Suggested by whitestar_alpha.
Prompt 100 – Wicked
“George Weasley, you are simply wicked!” she exclaimed, nearly dropping a box of Skiving Snackboxes on top of her head.
Angelina Johnson huffed, trying to ignore the fact that her fiancée had his head up her skirt as she stood upon a ladder in the backroom of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. She had been recruited to help in the shop after George’s usual shop girl was out sick. It was truly inconvenient since Christmas was days away…as was her wedding to the man under her skirt.
Finally getting the cardboard box on its appropriate shelf, Angelina gasped the top of the ladder to keep from falling…George’s tongue was wetting her knickers, in turn causing her body to dampen the thin fabric with her own wetness.
“This really is not the time,” she gritted out, her hands gasping the wood of the ladder, and her chocolate eyes drifted shut.
George’s voice was muffled against her centre, but she understood his words.
“Shop closed…your thighs so soft…” or something like that.
Angelina gasped as George’s hand snaked up her inner thigh and two fingers tugged the elastic of her knickers aside so the tip of his nose brushed against the dark thatch of hair of her mound…downward to nudge her clit.
“Wicked Weasley…” she whispered as the tip of his tongue slipped inside her…
Whimpering, Angelina’s knees began to shake from the sensation of her fiancée’s tongue lapping at her juices, tracing the ragged edges of her orifice, while intermittently taking teasing swipes at her nubbin.
George always surprised her, catching her off guard to destroy her façade of complete control. She loved that about him.
Throwing her head back, her black braids falling heavily against her back, Angelina groaned, grasping the ladder as her only means of support.
George hummed into her core, his fingers moving to spread her nether lips to devour her deeper, to push a digit into her clenching pussy. She could feel a day’s worth of stubble rasp against her soaking flesh, and feel his hot breath streaming from his nose to disturb her black curls. George always relished her taste, and Angelina relished the way his teeth scrapped against her clit and his thick fingers pumped against her.
“George!” she gasped as her climax crashed over her, unexpectedly.
Her vision dimmed for a split second, but that was all the time it took for her to release the ladder, and begin to fall to the storeroom floor below…but she never hit the stones.
He had caught her in his arms by some feat of magic, and easily carried her down the ladder, laying her on the floor. George’s blue eyes glittered with a smile, as he threw her skirt back from her mocha coloured legs, and winked lasciviously as he moved to kneel between her thighs.
“Should I change the shop’s name to ‘Wicked Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ or should I only give you some of my ‘Weasley’s Wicked Wizard…Willie?’”
Angelina burst out laughing even as George pushed down his unzipped trousers, his thick, erect ‘willie’ slapped against his red curls, arcing toward her with a glistening, purple head.
“The latter will be fine,” she laughed, lifting her knees and spreading her thighs.
George grinned, crawling forward, his hands resting on either side of her head, his blue eyes gazing down into her brown eyes…his shaggy ginger hair falling about his face and over the maimed ear he had lost…
She loved him. Sex was never dull, and neither was any other time when they were together. George Weasley was wicked, but that was just the way Angelina wanted him.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Lite DH spoilers, oral
Summary: #100 – Wicked. Angelina loved his wickedness.
Word Count: 602 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Suggested by whitestar_alpha.
Prompt 100 – Wicked
“George Weasley, you are simply wicked!” she exclaimed, nearly dropping a box of Skiving Snackboxes on top of her head.
Angelina Johnson huffed, trying to ignore the fact that her fiancée had his head up her skirt as she stood upon a ladder in the backroom of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. She had been recruited to help in the shop after George’s usual shop girl was out sick. It was truly inconvenient since Christmas was days away…as was her wedding to the man under her skirt.
Finally getting the cardboard box on its appropriate shelf, Angelina gasped the top of the ladder to keep from falling…George’s tongue was wetting her knickers, in turn causing her body to dampen the thin fabric with her own wetness.
“This really is not the time,” she gritted out, her hands gasping the wood of the ladder, and her chocolate eyes drifted shut.
George’s voice was muffled against her centre, but she understood his words.
“Shop closed…your thighs so soft…” or something like that.
Angelina gasped as George’s hand snaked up her inner thigh and two fingers tugged the elastic of her knickers aside so the tip of his nose brushed against the dark thatch of hair of her mound…downward to nudge her clit.
“Wicked Weasley…” she whispered as the tip of his tongue slipped inside her…
Whimpering, Angelina’s knees began to shake from the sensation of her fiancée’s tongue lapping at her juices, tracing the ragged edges of her orifice, while intermittently taking teasing swipes at her nubbin.
George always surprised her, catching her off guard to destroy her façade of complete control. She loved that about him.
Throwing her head back, her black braids falling heavily against her back, Angelina groaned, grasping the ladder as her only means of support.
George hummed into her core, his fingers moving to spread her nether lips to devour her deeper, to push a digit into her clenching pussy. She could feel a day’s worth of stubble rasp against her soaking flesh, and feel his hot breath streaming from his nose to disturb her black curls. George always relished her taste, and Angelina relished the way his teeth scrapped against her clit and his thick fingers pumped against her.
“George!” she gasped as her climax crashed over her, unexpectedly.
Her vision dimmed for a split second, but that was all the time it took for her to release the ladder, and begin to fall to the storeroom floor below…but she never hit the stones.
He had caught her in his arms by some feat of magic, and easily carried her down the ladder, laying her on the floor. George’s blue eyes glittered with a smile, as he threw her skirt back from her mocha coloured legs, and winked lasciviously as he moved to kneel between her thighs.
“Should I change the shop’s name to ‘Wicked Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ or should I only give you some of my ‘Weasley’s Wicked Wizard…Willie?’”
Angelina burst out laughing even as George pushed down his unzipped trousers, his thick, erect ‘willie’ slapped against his red curls, arcing toward her with a glistening, purple head.
“The latter will be fine,” she laughed, lifting her knees and spreading her thighs.
George grinned, crawling forward, his hands resting on either side of her head, his blue eyes gazing down into her brown eyes…his shaggy ginger hair falling about his face and over the maimed ear he had lost…
She loved him. Sex was never dull, and neither was any other time when they were together. George Weasley was wicked, but that was just the way Angelina wanted him.