Tough Love Part 4

The first night back at Hogwarts, Harry found Pansy sitting in their spot. The only thing out of the ordinary was that she was still wearing her clothes.

It was reminiscent of the first night he caught her. Pansy was sipping whisky, although she wasn’t half as deep in the bottle as she’d been back then. She was still coherent. When she looked at him, Harry got the feeling she was hiding something.

Definitely more sober, then. The only thing Pansy had been able to hide back then was more alcohol, and the only method she had to do it was to drain it down her gullet.

“You’re back. Did you have fun with Daphne?” Pansy asked.

Harry sat down beside her. “And Astoria.”

She snorted. “Figures. You sure do get around.”

Harry shrugged. When she offered him a swig from the bottle she was using, he took it without hesitating. It’s not like sharing a bottle meant anything given all the kisses they had shared. Harry’s mouth had been in even more intimate places, too. By now, there were very few positions or sexual acts the pair hadn’t gotten up to. Pansy was insatiable and adventurous; Harry was more than happy to play along. 

“I’m sensing a little bit of bitterness,” Harry said.

“The alchohol has always tasted like that,” Pansy said. She still hadn’t made any move to take her clothes off. “After all that we’ve drunk together, I’m not sure how it took you this long to notice that—”

Harry cut her off by grabbing her cheek and kissing her. Pansy’s eyes got wide. She felt him slip her a dose of tongue and briefly tensed, before relaxing. No matter what else she was feeling, she returned the kiss. He kept her cheek cupped in his palm. Harry could taste a film of whisky over her tongue.

“Wha— Wha— What?” Pansy stammered when, finally, Harry released her.

“It seemed like you could use that,” Harry said.

“Who are you to decide that?” Pansy demanded.

Harry gave her a flat look. “The guy who’s been shagging the shit out of you for ages. You might not like it, but I’m starting to get to know you all pretty well. Daphne acts stern, but she’d got the heart of a maiden… just with a kinky side. Astoria is a prissy, needy kind of slut. You? You like it rough. VIOLENETLY rough. But it feels like there’s more to you.”

Pansy couldn’t meet his eyes. She was blushing. “Who are you to just decide that?”

Harry used his hand on her face to MAKE her look at him. Pansy bit her lip.

“It’s late. I’m not in the mood to carve answers out of you,” Harry said. “Tell me what’s the matter with you. Inform me what you want. If you do, I might just give it to you.”

Pansy’s lips twitched, but she was unable to keep herself from opening them, a question bursting out: “What are we?”

What a loaded question. Harry had heard of guys who tore their hair out over the thought of hearing it. It had a reputation of being the goodbye kiss to glorious stringless shagging. Harry himself had been faced with variants. He didn’t like hearing it then.

Not because he was against deeper relationships, but because he just didn’t see those girls as anything serious, and he could TELL they wouldn’t take that answer well.

Getting into his pants was a hot and fast fantasy for witches his age. Locking the Boy Who Lived into a relationship? That could set you up with wealth for life. Even if they broke up, saying: “I dated Harry Potter!” was the kind of thing you could tell to grandkids. 

From Pansy, the question gave him different feelings. Frankly, he felt it was fair enough. 

For seven years, the two of them were at each other’s throats. For the last few months, Harry had now been stuffing his cock into hers instead (along, of course, with her pussy, ass, and once even the gap between ther thighs).

Perhaps a bit of clarification could go along way.

However, Harry had to be unhelpful, answering her question with another question: “What do you want us to be?”

Pansy scowled. “If I could answer that, do you think I would be asking you?”

“I’m asking you because I don’t have a good answer,” Harry said. “The sex is excellent. Are you saying you want more?”

“If I say yes, are you going to consider me crazy?” Pansy asked.

She sounded a little bit embarrassed. Harry could understand why that was. Given the way their illicit relations had kicked off, Pansy was basically asking him to flip everything they'd done on its head. 

Harry had done crazier things.

He let go of her cheek and swiped the bottle of Ogden’s Finest Firewhisky. Harry tilted the bottle back as far as it would go and got a burning mouthful.

Instead of swallowing, he plastered his lips against Pansy’s and shared the amber liquid.

They drank together—Pansy doing so with shocked eyes—which blended into another passionate kiss. When Harry finally moved away from her again, he’d kissed her so thoroughly that a trail of alcohol was leaking down her chin. 

“Should we try it?” Harry asked.

“Try… what?” Pansy asked, more for confirmation than anything else.

“Dating, obviously,” Harry said.

“Seriously?” Pansy asked. “But you’re you. I’m me.”

Harry smirked at her. “Astoudning observations.”

In lieu of a comeback, Pansy kissed him on the lips. It was the first time that night that she initiated the lip locking. Pansy pushed all her weight into him and managed to knock him down on his back, crawling on top. She was breathing so heavily it sounded like a lioness tearing into her meal. Finally, after lots of tongue touching, she spoke again.

“I’m a Slytherin. You’re THE Gryffindor. People will talk,” Pansy said.

Harry shrugged underneath her, shamelessly groping her bum. A bulge was growing in his pants and pushing on her crotch. “People have always talked about me. They did it before, they’re still doing it, and they’ll keep doing it. The trick it’s taught me? I don’t need to care what they say.”

He rolled them over. He was heavier than Pansy so it was easy. Harry pinned her down under him. They looked into each other’s eyes… and snapped.

Clothes were torn away in a blur. Harry heard threads and seems ripping in their huffy to get each other nude. When the last articles of clothing had finally been ripped away, Harry had pansy bent over, ready to take it from behind. 

He stopped. Just as he was about to penetrate her quim, he rolled her over.

Pansy was caught with an expression like a deer in the headlights. Her shock mingled with pleasure when Harry finally entered her. Harry kissed her again, making out while they fucked.

It was better this way. More personal. More PASSIONATE. Harry had nothing against a good doggystyle ravishing, it was the position he’d fucked Pansy in the most, but tonight called for something different. They were, after all, branching out of their comfort zone.

Harry felt Pansy’s legs tighten around him. They held him in an embrace that was as much about stopping him from pulling out as it was about just keeping him close. The only time Harry stopped kissing her was when he bit her tits. They weren’t as big as what the Greengrasses boasted; Harry didn’t mind changing things up and going for a smaller pair, for a change, though. He loved the noises Pansy made whenever his teeth closed on one of her nipples.

“You make cute sounds. Like a hamster,” Harry said.

“Shut up!” Pansy said.

She tried to shove his chest for having to the gall to tease her—even though Harry had meant what he said. It didn’t really work since she was coiled around his waist like a snake. In fact, she managed to leverage Harry’s body and push his dick even deeper inside her. His tip struck her womb and she made another of those fantastic squeak Harry compmlimented.

“See?” Harry said.

“Fuck. Fuck! Just f-fuck me…” Pansy said. She turned into quite the sailor when he was inside her up to his balls.

“But you’re the one who asked for more. I’m just humoring you,” Harry said. “Go on. Play along.”

He smiled at her. Pansy squinted at him, her eyes close to being shut from the pleasure that was emanating out of her crotch. Over the sound of their slapping crotches, Pansy did what Harry told her to like a good girl.

“I like you’re fucking eyes! They’re so bright, and shiny, like gems,” Pansy admitted. “You’re too fucking handsome. Do you know how distracting that was, while trying to hate you?”

“It’s possible to hate handsome people,” Harry pointed out. 

“But it’s fucking hard!” Pansy gasped. “Like your big, hulking dick!”

She devolved into a succession of moans from there, squealing until her throat went raw. Harry took pity on her and kissed her again, instead of teasing her any further. He grabbed her arms and pinned them to the floor above where her head was. Gradually, as they fucked, Harry slid his hands further up them.

At the start, he was holding her biceps. Eventually, his fingers got to her elbows. Soon they were moving up her forearms. They stopped for a while at Pansy’s wrists, his hips repeatedly plowing his dick into her, slamming her cervix, threatening to reshape her cunt. 

Harry’s hands jumped past her wrists, squeezing Pansy’s. The embrace of their fingers was an extra step. It was a gesture lovers would make, instead of horny teens full of nothing but lust. Pansy didn’t miss the implication.

Her pussy went from being wet to being a pure pit of orgasmic slosh. She squirted on Harry’s dick and moaned into his tongue. Her fingers squeezed his hands back with frantic strength that exceeded what she looked like she should be capable of. 

At that point, Harry committed to the creampie.

He wasn’t going to stop at just one. Tonight was a night when Pansy’s insides would need to be filled, like a bucket left out in the scottish winter rain. He got started right away, pumping five healthy spurts of baby batter into the mixing pot between Pansy’s hips.

One down,” Harry said out loud, in a moment when their lips weren’t locked together. Pansy rectified that my jamming her tongue back into his mouth.

Unlike their usual antics on nights in this room, the two of them didn’t switch positions. It was as if together, without saying it, they deemed that a waste of time. They were already in the prime position for what they wanted.

On top of Pansy, Harry was going to pound her and keep pumping out cum until his balls went dry. Pansy would continue squirting and squeezing with her crotch muscles until Harry’s dick was finally pulled out of her. Both of them were more than happy with the arrangement. Throughout the entire affair, Harry didn’t let go of Pansy’s hands a single time.

Minutes ticked by and turned to hours. Like he demonstrated in Greengrass Manor, Harry possessed extraordinary staying power when it came to pleasuring witches. Even the Greengrass sisters working in tandem hadn’t been able to outlast him. Pansy stood no chance alone.

It was a defeat she would relish.

There was no screaming or moaning as the young man and woman drew their fucking to a close. Harry had messed up Pansy’s insides in the best kind of way, just like he promised he would. Pansy, meanwhile, had done everything she could to wring him dry. They were both exhausted—but pleased with their efforts.

Harry’s dick flopped out of her insides, soft and already shrinking. You could almost describe it as shriveled. When it was removed from Pansy’s pussy, cum bubbled out of her like a fountain. Pansy squeezed her fingers against his knuckles.

“So, baby,” Harry said, sensing Pansy shake as he called her that. “Where should our first date be?”

Pansy wore one of the most honest smiles he had ever seen from her.

“Here. Tomorrow night,” she moaned.

The way that things were going, their relationship announcement was liable to be a baby bump in Pansy’s school robes.