A Gift For Harry (Exclusive)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

A Gift For Harry

The Weasley kitchen was a cacophony of noise, holiday smells, and brightly colored Christmas jumpers. Bill’s voice boomed out a laugh, and Ginny cackled at something George said. Harry nursed a heavy glass while Rose subtly flirted with him. Mrs. Weasley’s cakes and cookies covered practically every surface. George’s twins chased each other around the battered old table, firing off hexes that sizzled in the air. Even Percy looked less like he’d swallowed a lemon.

Through the mayhem, Fleur Delacour glided across the floor with an erotic grace that couldn’t be taught. Her silvery blonde hair cascaded down her statuesque body, and every step made her hips bounce. She wore a blue velvet dress that wickedly clung to her curvy body. She passed behind Harry, running her painted nails up his neck. He shivered.

“‘Arry.” Her French accent made his cock jump. “Come. I must steal you for a moment.” No one looked up or even noticed. Everyone was way too busy having fun. 

She led him through the chaos, into a cold, dim pantry that smelled of cinnamon and cloves. She shut the door. The sound was padded, almost private. Her hands were on him at once, tracing his collarbone.

“Merry Christmas, ‘Arry,” she whispered.

Harry smiled at the gorgeous woman. “Merry Christmas to you, Fleur.”

She kissed him. Her lips were soft and determined. Harry let his hands slide to her hips, and he pulled her in, deepening the kiss. Fleur moaned low in her throat and sucked his tongue until he gasped. His hand crept up her body until he found her breast. He cupped it, kneaded it, and toyed with the hard nipple through the velvet. Fleur broke the kiss, squealed, and slapped his hand away. “You ‘orrible man!” she whispered, though she looked delighted.

He smirked. “You started it.”

She straightened her dress and made sure that her large tits hadn’t popped out. Her chest heaved, and her pale cleavage was flushed. “You must be careful.” She scolded him with a cocked eyebrow. “Someone will see.”

“Whatever you say,” he cheekily smiled while palming both of her jiggly cheeks.

She laughed loud enough that Mrs. Weasley’s shadow twitched on the other side of the door. “I will tell you a secret, oui?” She lowered her voice. “My Victoire, she is coming to your ‘ouse tonight.”

Harry’s smile turned wolfish. “Oh? Is she planning to leave a present under my tree?”

“Do not be so childish,” Fleur scolded, but her eyes flicked up and down his body. “She ‘as her gift for you. She is an adult now, so I’m sure you know what it is.”

Harry nodded while continuing to enjoy Fleur’s wonderful curves. “I have a suspicion.” Victoire hadn’t been subtle about her desire to get him into bed. All the women in the Weasley family laughed and joked about it amongst themselves. 

“She is so nervous,” Fleur said, her voice suddenly soft. “You must be gentle with ‘er.”

He put his hand over his heart and faked sincerity. “I’ll try.”

Fleur rolled her eyes and smacked his belly with the back of her hand. She leaned in and kissed him again. This time, the kiss was slower and softer. Her perfume was dizzying. “You are a terrible boy, ‘Arry Potter.” She giggled and squealed when Harry squeezed her ass. She pulled away, straightened her dress one more time, and then opened the pantry door.

The kitchen clamor returned at once, washing them in the warmth of too many bodies and too much firewhiskey. Ginny was arm-wrestling with George. Bill had gone off to rescue his youngest from a pile of enchanted snowballs. Harry, still tingling from the pantry, locked eyes with Victoire across the room. She wore a tight, short black dress, and she looked at him like she might just forget tonight, drag him upstairs, and give him his gift right now. Harry winked, which made her cheeks flush bright pink.

Fleur glided back to the table, her lipstick smeared. No one said a word, but Ginny looked at him, raised one eyebrow, and smiled naughtily. 

A Gift For Harry

Harry's house was cold and dark, but as soon as he stepped inside, the lights came on, and the logs in the fireplace burst into flames. He dropped his gifts on the entry table, peeled off his scarf, and kicked snow from his boots. The silence after the Burrow's holiday rowdiness was disorienting. It took him a moment to adjust. He wondered if he'd ever get the smell of Weasley fruitcake out of his jacket. Every year, George would end the night with a food fight, which was quickly preceded by a yelling Mrs. Weasley shouting for them to take it outside. He was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when someone knocked at the door. Fleur’s words instantly came back to him. 

Harry opened the door, already smiling. "Victoire," he drawled and eyed her up. 

Victoire stood in the doorway, buried in a black overcoat big enough for two of her. The fur-trimmed hood was pulled up over her head, and a red velvet Santa hat sat crooked on her long, blonde hair.

Harry smirked. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She pulled the hood back, and her hair fell out in long, thick waves. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, or maybe from the anticipation. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement and nervousness. She smiled cutely at him.

"I forgot to give you your present, Mr. Potter,” she said teasingly. She was trying to sound confident, but her words were a little shaky. 

"Is that so, Miss Weasley?" he teased her back. 

She stepped inside, her heels leaving tiny wet prints on the floor. She closed the door and turned the lock. It was her way of saying that she wasn’t going anywhere tonight. Harry stood a foot away, pretending that he didn’t know why she was here. Victoire circled him with the confident grace of her mother.

She dropped her coat on the nearest chair. Underneath, she wore a Mrs. Claus dress that looked like someone had designed it with a strip club in mind. The dress was scarlet velvet, trimmed in white fluff, and cut so low that the tops of her breasts were spilling out. The skirt barely covered her ass. Two inches of silky-smooth skin peeked above her thigh-high stockings. There was a little red ribbon choker around her throat, like a Christmas tag.

She slowly pirouetted, hands on her shapely hips, modeling her outfit for him.

Harry let his eyes linger on her sexy body. "Someone’s full of Christmas cheer," he teased.

"Do you like it?" she asked him, angling her body so he could see right down her top. 

He circled her, taking in the details. Her high heels were shiny and red. The white stockings had little bows at the tops, and her perky tits threatened to bust out at any moment. The dress was designed to drive men wild, which was precisely why she had chosen to wear it.

"You've outdone yourself, Vicky."

She pouted, and her lips were glossy and wet. "Then why don’t you do something about it?” she asked cutely. 

He caught her by the waist, and she moved closer to him, pressing in so her tits mashed against his chest. He could feel her breath against his skin. She slid her hands under his shirt, and her cold fingers caressed his skin.

"Impatient, aren't we?" Harry amusedly asked. 

"You have no idea," she said breathlessly. She reached up and placed her hands on the back of his neck. He let her pull his head down. She kissed him hard, and her pearly teeth nipped at his lower lip. The kiss was hungry and desperate. This was her big chance, and she wasn’t going to let it pass her by. She broke the kiss and wiped the gloss from his mouth with her thumb. "Do you still want your present?"

Harry grinned lasciviously. "Lead the way."

She took his hand and dragged him to the stairs. The heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floor. Her ass swayed, and the skirt rode up every step. When she reached the stairs, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Aren’t you going to take me to your room?"

He almost laughed. "After you."

She smiled and started up the steps, hips bouncing, and she flashed him her ass with every step. He could see the red thong doing a piss poor job of hiding her pussy. Her plump, hairless lips were poking out of each side. The sight made his cock jump in his trousers. Harry followed, entranced by the sight of her taut ass. His hands were itching to grab and knead those luscious cheeks. Upstairs, she paused at his door, turned, and pressed him flat against it.

"Have you ever been with a Veela, Harry?" she asked him, batting her eyes.

He tried to play it cool. "Not recently," he told her, which was a complete lie. Just two days ago, Fleur was creaming all over his cock. Three days before that, he had Gabrielle’s feet pinned above her head. 

She smiled, her lovely blue eyes shining. "Tonight's your lucky night then." Victoire turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. She dragged Harry in by the hand and closed the door behind them. 

Victoire released Harry’s hand, his eyes never leaving his. She circled the room slowly, her fingers trailing across his wardrobe, his desk, and the edge of the bed. She finally sat on the bed with her knees together. That lasted for only a few seconds before she leaned back on her hands and kicked her heels off. The pose made her skirt ride even higher on her thighs.

She opened her legs just enough for him to see the red triangle of her panties. The thin material was already darkening at the slit, and the fabric was so narrow it barely covered her lips. She wasn’t just shaved. She appeared to be Veela smooth, without a hint of stubble on her mound. Her pale skin looked soft and perfect.

Victoire’s eyes glimmered as she watched his gaze travel down her legs, over the stockings, across her panties, and back up. She flicked her hair off her shoulder and crooked a finger. “Well?” she said. “Aren’t you going to unwrap your present?”

Harry stepped forward, letting his hands hang at his sides. He knelt at the foot of the bed and lifted her left ankle. Her skin was warm against his palm, and he could smell the arousal wafting from between her legs. He worked her stocking down, rolling it with both hands, and watching the way her smooth calf trembled as he moved. When he reached her knee, Victoire arched her foot to help. He kissed her ankle before setting it down and moving to the other leg. She watched him and trembled as he slowly bared her skin. Her breath hitched every time he touched her.

When both stockings were gone, she rubbed her bare calves together. Her dainty fingers caressed the smooth skin of her thighs while Harry watched her. “You can touch them if you want, Harry,” Victoire said with a shaky voice.

He didn’t answer. He watched her wiggle her toes, and then he slid his hand up her calf and thigh, stopping just before reaching her panties. Her breathing was getting noisy now, and she did nothing to hide it. She couldn’t if she wanted to.

He stood. “I’m feeling a bit overdressed,” he said.

Victoire propped herself on her elbows and nodded. Her smile was gone, and her eyes were determined. She wanted to see him. She had been dreaming about this for years. Harry undid his shirt until it hung open. He shrugged it off and dropped it. He saw her lick her lips. Next, he unfastened his trousers and slid them down, stepping out with one foot and then the other. He was in black boxers now, his cock straining against the fabric. Several inches were poking out of the waistband, and Victoire’s eyes bugged out.

Harry peeled his boxers off, letting his cock spring free. It slapped his stomach and stood at full attention. Victoire gaped at it, and her mouth fell open as if she’d just seen a basilisk. “Will that even fit in me?” she whispered, not even realizing she’d said it. Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink when she finally did realize. Her eyes never left his cock, following every twitch and jump as Harry gazed at her sexy form. 

Harry couldn’t help himself. He started stroking it and grinned when her thighs jerked together in response. “Is it everything you hoped for?” he teased.

She stared at it for a long moment, trying to figure out the right words to express herself. “It’s …” Her voice failed. She looked up at him, her blue eyes swimming. “It’s so much bigger than I thought,” she confessed, basically admitting that she had been fantasizing about it. 

Harry chuckled and stepped between her knees. He leaned forward and ran his fingers up her thigh, stopping just before her panties. “Are you scared?” he asked.

Victoire’s response was to flop back on the bed, her hair spilling around her like a halo. The Santa hat slid off and tumbled to the floor. She giggled and covered her face with her hands. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

He eased himself onto the bed beside her. He tugged gently at her wrists until she lowered her hands. She looked at him, her eyes shining and lips parted. She was trembling a little. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Harry cupped her cheek and kissed her. Her tongue tasted like peppermint, and her lips tasted like strawberry lip gloss. She reached up and buried her fingers in his hair. She dragged him down, making the kiss feel dirtier. Her tongue was soft and hot, and she let out a surprised moan when he pressed his cock against her thigh.

He broke the kiss and reached for the top of her dress. The fabric was stretchy, and it clung to her body like a second skin. He pulled it down over her shoulders, and Victoire arched her back, letting him undress her. The velvet slid down, exposing her chest.

Her breasts were better than he’d imagined. They were very perky and stood high on her chest. Each one was more than a handful, and her nipples were perfect, light pink nubs that were already hard and crinkled. Harry stared for a moment, then bent down and kissed one, drawing a shaky gasp from her lips. He sucked at the nipple until she made a desperate noise and clutched his head. He tugged it with his teeth, then moved to the other, worshipping it with slow circles of his tongue. Victoire shuddered and pulled his face harder against her chest.

“Good god, Harry,” she moaned. She reached down and palmed his cock, stroking it with fingers that didn’t fit around the shaft. He almost came right there, but held it back, breathing deeply and staying in control. 

He kissed his way down her body and over the subtle curve of her stomach. He slithered his tongue into her belly button, which made her squeal and giggle. Harry continued downward until his chin rested against the waistband of her tiny skirt. He grabbed the hem, tugged it down, and peeled it off. Victoire was now lying there wearing only her choker and panties. 

Her thighs quivered as he caressed them. His hands roam up and down her legs, exploring the smoothness of her skin. He brought his face close to her panties. They were soaking wet, and the fabric was nearly transparent with arousal. Her slit bulged against the fabric, and the outline of her plump lips was clearly visible. 

Harry looked up at her blushing face. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Victoire nodded, biting her lower lip. Her blue eyes were wide and nervous, but also very hungry and determined. He gripped the waistband and pulled. The panties slid down her thighs, then she raised her legs to help, exposing her damp pussy completely. Harry let the panties dangle from one finger, then tossed them behind him.

She lay there, knees apart. Victoire’s pussy was bare and glistening, and her folds were pale pink, soft, and so smooth it looked almost unreal. Her lips were plump, slightly parted, with a hint of wetness glimmering in the warm bedroom light. The scent of her wet pussy hit him hard, and his cock throbbed with need.

He pushed her knees even farther apart. She whimpered and lifted her hips, exposing herself even more. Harry stared for a moment, burning the image into his brain. He then dragged a single finger down her slit, from the top of her mound to the dripping, waiting entrance. She was so wet that he knew she was ready for more. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, and her hips bucked at the touch. Harry knelt between her legs, his hands gripping her inner thighs, and leaned in.

Harry took a breath, filling his lungs with the scent of her arousal, and then pressed his lips to her pussy. He slowly ran his tongue up the slit, tasting her arousal and feeling the shudder pass through her body. Victoire jerked and bucked her hips, letting out a shaky squeak. He spread her lips with two fingers and teasingly circled the tip of his tongue around her clit.

Her legs trembled against his ears. She clamped her thighs around his head, trapping him in a vice-like grip. Victoire rolled her hips and ground her mound into his mouth. Harry smiled against her skin, loving the desperation in her actions. He sucked on her clit gently before adding a bit more suction. Her hands knotted in his hair, urging him to be rougher.

He slipped one finger inside her, testing the tightness. She was tighter than he expected, and she grew wetter with every flick of his tongue. He added a second finger and pumped them, curling them up to find the spot that made her breath shudder. She started panting out little gasps that got louder with every stroke of her g-spot. He licked her harder and faster, and his fingers moved in rhythm with the frantic jerk of her hips.

Victoire’s whole body was now shaking. She let out a high-pitched, strangled noise and thrashed under him, cumming so hard she squirted around his fingers. Harry barely pulled back in time to avoid it hitting him in the face. He chuckled and then dove back in, licking her pussy clean. She moaned, writhed, and drummed her feet against the bed as he dragged his tongue between her lips.

He trailed kisses up her inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin. She grabbed his hair and tried to drag him back to her pussy, but he resisted. There was so much more of her body he needed to explore. He kissed her bald mound and nuzzled it before moving up her belly and peppering it with slow, soft kisses. He moved to her breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth while toying with the other. Victoire arched her back and pushed her tits into his face, begging for more.

Desperate for more pleasure, she reached down and grabbed his cock. The tips of her fingers didn’t come close to touching, but she stroked the behemoth to the best of her ability. She lined the head up with her entrance, looked him in the eye, and pleaded, “Please. I want to feel it.” If that wasn’t enough to tempt him, she went further by dragging the head up and down her dripping slit. 

Harry kissed her, and soon, their tongues were wrestling. He then nudged forward with his hips. The tip of his cock split her folds and glided through the wetness, and he paused at the tight ring of muscle. He pushed in slowly and watched her eyes widen as he stretched her open. She bit his lip to keep from crying out. “Oh, shit, Harry!” she gasped.

He waited, giving her time to adjust to his massive size, and kissing her on the forehead and cheeks while gently scratching her scalp. Harry slid in another inch, waited, and then slid in some more, until he was halfway inside. Her pussy gripped him like a fist, milking every centimeter of shaft. The heat of her pussy was almost unbearable. It took every ounce of willpower not to start jackhammering into her. 

Victoire dug her nails into his shoulders, leaving red marks. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice ragged.

He fucked her slowly, letting her feel the exact shape of his cock. She moaned deeply and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper. He buried his face in her neck and sucked on her skin as he claimed her body. Their shared rhythm grew faster, and Victoire’s heels dug into his lower back as her hips met his every thrust. The wet sounds of their bodies colliding filled the room.

It didn’t take long for her to cum again. Her body tensed, her pussy tightened around him, and she screamed his name. Her pussy spasmed, spraying hot fluid all over his cock, balls, and sheets. Harry nearly lost it, but he was just able to hold on, wanting to prolong the pleasure.

He fucked her through her orgasm, then pulled out almost all the way until just the head was inside. He pushed back in with a wet, messy squelch of her pussy. She whimpered, and her eyes rolled back while she clawed at his back. Victoire gasped and squealed cutely as the slick walls of her pussy fluttered and pulsated around his invading girth.

“Please … I can’t take much more!” she cried out as her pussy began to squirt again.

He kept going, pounding her sweet pussy with deep, powerful thrusts. He watched her beautiful face as it twisted in pleasure. Her pussy was foaming with cream and smearing his cock, leaving thick, white streaks. It dripped down to his balls and onto her asshole. Her clit was fat and swollen with arousal. He reached between them and rubbed it with his thumb while fucking her, and Victoire came undone. Her orgasm was bigger and harder than before, and she squirted so much that it soaked the bed beneath them.

Harry couldn’t hold back any longer. He thrust in deep and came, pumping her full of cum while groaning into her mouth. She wrapped her legs around him and locked her ankles, holding him inside her. Victoire didn’t want to miss a single drop. Harry hovered over her, breathing heavily while his cock twitched inside of her, depositing the last few spurts of cum. 

Victoire giggled and ran her fingers through his hair. “Merry Christmas, Harry,” she whispered, her voice husky and happy.

He laughed, pulled her close, and kissed her again, already hungry for another round. “And a happy new year,” he added, which made her giggle even more. Harry rolled over and took Victoire with him. His cock was still hard and buried deep inside her. Victoire leaned forward, braced herself on his chest, and began rolling her hips. It was a very merry Christmas indeed.