The Trouble With Veela (Ch. 5)

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

The Trouble With Veela

Chapter 5

Gabrielle Delacour smirked at her own reflection in the curved glass of a gelato case. Her face was as stunning as always. She watched the way the shopkeeper’s hands trembled as he scooped pistachio gelato into the wide-rimmed cup and turned to Fleur. “See how he looks at us, Fleur?” Gabrielle murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. “He’s going to drop it again, I’m sure,” she told her in French.

Fleur tilted her heart-shaped face and flicked her silvery hair over her shoulder. “He will not drop it. Not with you standing there like you might smack him for every mistake.” She grinned, exposing perfect teeth. “You must not tease the help so much, Gabrielle.” Gabby responded by rolling her eyes.

The two of them made a spectacle wherever they went, even without trying. Their matching platinum-blonde waves, their skin with its radiant pearly sheen, the uncanny way their curves swelled … it was all too much for the average man to handle. Their Veela allure, even at rest, was like a tsunami for the unprepared, and in the Mediterranean summer heat, all restraint melted away like the heavy scoop of gelato plopping down into the trembling cup. The vast majority of men in the small seaside village seemingly couldn’t stop themselves from following the girls around with their mouths hanging open and the fronts of their trousers pathetically tented.

The cup of gelato arrived trembling in the palm of an ungraceful hand. Gabrielle quickly snatched it up, accidentally brushing the boy’s knuckles with a finger. He gasped a small, ridiculous sound and dropped a second scoop onto the floor, just as predicted.

“Oops,” Gabrielle said, her tongue darting out to capture the sliver of green ice cream already melting over the rim of the cup. “Pardon, monsieur.” Her gaze lingered. “You should be more careful.” The gelato boy was shaking uncontrollably by then, so they left before he could faint.

As they effortlessly glided out of the shop, Gabrielle licked her ice cream from the bottom of her spoon. “Stop eating it like that or we may not make it out of here alive,” Fleur teased, elbowing her.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “We’ll be fine. Besides, I’m ready to head back to the house. I’m tired of all the staring.” She politely nodded at a trio of teenage boys gawking from behind a potted palm plant.

They strolled down the cobbled street, past boutiques and perfumeries, ignoring the attention that followed in their wake. The air smelled like pastries, espresso, and saltwater from the distant sea. Gabrielle finished her cone and flicked the last bit into a trash can with perfect aim. “Ready to head back?” Fleur asked her, and Gabby quickly nodded. They had only been gone a couple of hours, and she already missed Harry.

They headed toward the beach, threading through throngs of tourists and leering locals. They ignored them all with practiced grace. Gabrielle squinted at the horizon as they carefully made their way down an old path. “Do you think Harry is still napping?” she asked, a bit of slyness in her tone.

Fleur shrugged. “If not, maybe we can have some fun. We deserve it after Maman hogged all his attention this morning.”

Gabrielle giggled, remembering the way Apolline had snared Harry Potter at breakfast and spent half an hour feeding him berries while reading the newspaper. She made sure her robe was hiked all the way up so he could drool over her smooth, creamy thighs.

The house was perched above a sand bluff, its terrace overlooking a stretch of pale beach. A patchwork of wet, sandy towels and half-empty bottles of water marked the exact spot where they preferred to spend their time. Gabrielle skipped up the steps, opening the door with a flourish. Fleur followed her in, her arms full of paper shopping bags from their morning raid on the boutiques. The instant they crossed the threshold, the air changed. It grew thick with the undeniable scent of wet pussy. Sure, since they arrived, the house always smelled of arousal, but this was different. This was the smell of legs spread wide. Gabrielle paused, nostrils flaring. Fleur stopped beside her, the shopping bags nearly sliding off her arm.

The living room was flooded with afternoon light, and the lace curtains fluttered in the sea breeze. At the end of the sofa sat Harry, completely naked, his arms draped across the back of the couch with a lazy and somewhat stunned smile fixed on his handsome face. His body, lean and muscled, proudly displayed every battle scar he had collected over the years of misadventure. Apolline was equally bare except for a pair of tiny, impossibly sheer pink panties that were pulled aside and did nothing to hide her bald, glistening pussy. She lay sideways across the couch, on her back, flipping through one of Fleur’s fashion magazines with her feet perched delicately in Harry’s lap.

Gabrielle and Fleur stood there for a moment, surprised at the sight. Apolline turned the page of her magazine and greeted them, as if nothing were amiss. “Did you girls ‘ave fun? ‘Ow was the village?”

Harry, suddenly aware of their audience, flushed but did not attempt to cover himself. His cock was fully hard and cradled against the soft arch of Apolline’s foot while she dragged her cute, little toes up and down the underside of his shaft. She flexed her small toes, teasing the shaft from the base to the head, while the pads of her toes milked him with incredible tenderness.

“That feels good,” Harry groaned and slightly thrust his hips upward.

Fleur recovered first. “Maman, you are… indecent!” she scolded, but the word came out half-amused, half-admiring. She couldn’t help but stare at Harry’s manly cock as Apolline teased it with her perfect feet.

Apolline looked up over the magazine, her blue eyes sly. “ ‘E needed some relaxing, and since neither of you were around to take care of ‘im ....” She stroked Harry’s shaft with her toes, slow and deliberate. “I ‘ad to do it myself.”

Gabrielle circled the sofa, admiring the erotic scene. Harry’s face had that dazed look he usually wore when he was close to release, and his eyes were locked on Apolline’s delicate footwork. “You are doing it wrong,” Gabrielle announced. “ ‘E likes it ‘arder.” With a flick of her wrist, she plucked a grape from a bowl on the kitchen counter and tossed it expertly into her mouth.

Apolline let out an amused, tinkling laugh. “Would you like to demonstrate, mon petit?” She didn’t stop moving her feet, but added some extra pressure, trapping the swollen head of Harry’s cock underneath her toes and giving it a slow, twisting pump.

Harry moaned, his head rolling back. His breathing came in ragged gasps. “That’s…oh, bloody hell …” He cut himself off, as if words had become suddenly too complicated.

Gabrielle perched herself on the armrest, not two feet from Harry’s nakedness. “I could try and teach you, but I fear you cannot teach an old dog new tricks,” Gabby giggled, teasing Apolline.

Apolline raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Per’aps we should ‘old a contest. Winner takes all,” she teased back.

Fleur sighed dramatically, but there was laughter in her voice. “You two are ridiculous.” She set her bags down and dropped herself gracefully onto a cushy chair near the couch. Her blue eyes roamed over Harry’s exposed body with open appreciation.

Apolline gave the magazine a careless flick, tossing it aside, and focused fully on Harry. Her toes began working him hard. She worked him with long, gliding caresses up the shaft, circling the head, then squeezing firmly as her arch pressed him flat against the smooth skin of her sole. The motion was obscene. Harry bit his lip, his hips bucking involuntarily. “I’m getting close,” he groaned, his voice frayed and gravelly.

“Of course you are, mon cherie,” Apolline cooed. “I’m very good at everything I do,” she teased.

Gabrielle snorted. “Remember when you took us ice skating?” she reminded her. “Your bottom was bruised for a week.”

Apolline’s panties had shifted as she moved. The thin strip of lace was now pulled so far to the side that it left nothing to the imagination. Her bald, pink pussy glistened as she flexed her toes. Her hips rocked in tiny, involuntary movements, smearing her juices along the seat cushion. Apolline whimpered as a tiny arch of pussy juice squirted from her quivering cunt. Fleur, for her part, simply watched. She crossed her legs, her white skirt riding up her thighs. One hand delicately stroked her own knee as her breathing became labored.

“Maman, you are making a mess,” Fleur scolded. She loved lounging on that couch, and now it was soaked. Apolline moaned as more juice squirted from her sloppy, wet pussy.

Gabrielle’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “If you want ‘im to finish faster, you ‘ave to tease the tip. ‘E likes that best.” She leaned forward and brushed her fingertips over the tip of his cock. “Go on, ‘Arry. Show us ‘ow much you love it.”

Harry’s hips jerked. He squeezed his eyes shut, savoring the incredible pleasure. He then opened them to find all three Veela women watching him with predatory interest. The head of his cock had turned pink and angry, and pre-cum began beading and smearing against Apolline’s sexy, little feet.

“ ‘Ow does it feel to be adored by three goddesses?” Apolline teased, her toes pinching just under the swollen head.

“I …” Harry gasped, his voice strained. “I think I’m going to …”

Apolline grinned. “Go on, then,” she said, and pressed her feet together, trapping Harry’s cock so tightly that the veins bulged. She stroked him with a final, relentless rhythm.

Harry’s head snapped back. “Fuck!” he moaned, and his entire body spasmed. The shaft pulsed hard between Apolline’s soles. The first jet of cum shot up, a thick white arc painting Apolline’s calf, the second splattering the curve of Gabrielle’s thigh, and the third flew so far it landed on Fleur’s bare foot, just above her pink-painted toes. For a heartbeat, time froze for them. Harry’s breathless moan echoed across the room, and Apolline’s face was serene with triumph. Gabrielle giggled as she wiped a pearl of semen from her leg and licked it from her finger. Fleur regarded the glob on her foot with wry amusement. She then bent to wipe it from her skin and licked it off just as Gabby had done.

Apolline released Harry’s cock, wiping a stray drop of cum from his shaft with her finger before rubbing it into the slick skin of her own pussy. She then patted his thigh and stretched out like a cat with a satisfied sigh. Harry slumped back into the sofa, utterly drained, and a smile spread across his face. “That was… incredible,” he breathed.

“Now that I am so worked up, you can come and take care of MY needs,” Gabby said, pulling him from the sofa. As soon as he was on his feet, she grabbed his cock and dragged him to the bedroom, where they would stay for several hours.

The Trouble With Veela

The afternoon quickly faded into night, but the living room was still bathed in soft light as Harry wandered out of the bedroom, still naked and sweaty due to Gabrielle’s relentless appetite. He didn’t even attempt to find a towel. The salt of his sweat and the tang of Veela pussy smeared on his skin was a badge of honor Harry was proud to wear.

The living room’s lamps shone light on the couch and its curled occupant. Fleur sat on the couch, her legs neatly crossed at the knee. Her body was bare except for a single pair of sky-blue panties and a fashion magazine sprawled on her thighs. She’d left her hair down and her makeup on. Her lips were painted, and her lashes were thick and long. It was a deliberate act to appear sexy for him … not that she needed to try to look sexy. Sexy was her constant state of being after all. She knew he would leave the room at some point, and she was ready for him.. The light painted her skin, casting shadows over the curves of her breasts and the long, elegant lines of her legs.

She looked up as he approached, eyes raking him from head to toe. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips. “Mmm, there you are. I was beginning to think you died of exhaustion in there.” Fleur had a teasing expression on her gorgeous face. She patted the couch cushion beside her, fingers splayed. “Sit with me?”

Harry obliged, sinking onto the couch with his thigh touching hers. His cock, though momentarily sated, gave a weary twitch at her nearness. Fleur put down the magazine and arched her back so her tits jutted up and out, nipples stiff and crinkled. She caught him staring and grinned wickedly. “Do you want to play with them, ‘arry?” she teased, her voice soft and sultry.

He didn’t answer, and he certainly didn’t need to be asked twice. He just reached out and cupped her breast, the heat of his palm warming her cool flesh. Fleur exhaled, her lashes fluttering. “You must be gentle. My nipples are very sensitive right now,” she breathlessly stated. Harry could instantly tell that she didn’t mean a word of it. Fleur was a tease, and all it would take was a little stimulation before she was begging him to devour her pillowy tits. Still, he would play along.

Harry squeezed, slow and careful. His thumbs brushed over the taut, pink circles of her nipples. Fleur mewled like a kitten and leaned into his hands, her face alight with pleasure. “‘arder,” she breathed, and he obeyed, kneading her breasts until she squirmed on the couch. He bent and pressed his lips into the valley of her cleavage, breathing in her perfume and tasting the saltiness of her skin. She purred, her hands going to his hair to guide him lower.

“Oui, like that,” she said, her voice a musical hum. “Kiss them for me.” He cupped and lifted both naked breasts and took a pink nipple into his mouth. Fleur arched her elegant back and gently dug her nails into his scalp. She pushed her nipple deeper into his mouth, shivering as he suckled and bit gently at the tip.

From the hallway, a shadow moved. Gabrielle, naked as the day she was born, padded into the room while not bothering to mask her irritation at being abandoned. “Where are you, ‘Arry?” she said, half-whine, half-command. “I want to go again.” Then she saw him, and her eyes widened. She strolled to the couch, every inch of her curvy body glowing and flushed. There was a spatter of Harry’s dried cum streaked over her lower belly and thigh.

Gabrielle perched on the armrest, directly beside Fleur’s shoulder, and watched as Harry tongued her breast. “You are going to make ‘er squirt if you keep doing that,” Gabby warned, and Fleur let out a breathless laugh. “Are you jealous?” Fleur teased, wrapping an arm around Harry’s head and pulling him closer. They could both hear sucking noises as Harry swallowed her nipple.

Gabrielle snorted. “I just do not want you to ‘og ‘im.” Making a decision, Gabby stood back up and moved in front of Harry. She straddled Harry’s left thigh, her wet, naked pussy squelching audibly as she pressed down. “See? He is still ‘ard for me,” Gabby said as she reached between his parted legs and squeezed his cock. Harry groaned as her slippery heat smeared across his skin. She began to rock against his thigh, her hips making slow, desperate circles.

Fleur pushed Harry off her nipple and stood up. “I believe I am the one who made him ‘ard,” Fleur corrected her. She stood just long enough to strip off her panties. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and shimmied them down her legs. The wet fabric clung to her pussy, peeling away from the glossy, fat lips with a sticky sigh. The crotch of her panties was almost translucent with arousal, and she tossed them right onto Harry’s face before mounting his right thigh. Harry grabbed her wet panties and breathed in her erotic scent before tossing them away.

He was now bracketed by two horny Veela. Fleur was grinding her bare, shaven cunt against his right thigh, while Gabrielle slid back and forth along his left. Both leaned in at exactly the same time. Their tits pressed together, sandwiching his face. Fleur clutched the back of his neck and buried him between her breasts, smothering him in their softness. Gabrielle licked his ear and bit the lobe, her breath hot and ragged. Harry palmed both of their naked asses, squeezing and kneading the perfect globes of Veela flesh. Each time he squeezed, his fingertips grazed their tight, winking assholes. Their tiny, puckered rings clenched tightly at the touch. He dug deeper, circling his fingers over both at once, and Fleur broke away from his mouth, gasping.

“Harry, you are ...” she started, but whatever word she wanted to say dissolved into a whimper as he slipped his finger inside her, up to the first knuckle. Her ass clenched around it, desperate and greedy.

Not to be outdone, Gabrielle shifted her weight and ground herself harder on his thigh while forcing her own ass back into his hand. She mewled cutely when he pressed his finger against her asshole, her voice full of desperate need. “Put it in,” she shuddered, grinding her hips to force him deeper.

Harry obliged, working both fingers inside their asses while they pressed their tits to his face. Their bodies moved in a perfect, pulsing rhythm. Their big, perky tits bounced and jiggled while their hips violently swung back and forth, leaving a long, sticky trail of pussy juice along his skin. He sucked and licked Fleur’s nipples and then turned his mouth to Gabrielle’s, nipping at the sensitive skin just beneath her areola. She yelped and seized him by the hair, shoving his head back between both sets of tits. Their grinding hips became frantic, and Veela pheromones hung thick in the air. Fleur’s pussy soaked his thigh, leaving streaks of wetness all the way down to his knee. Gabrielle’s clit throbbed with every pass, and her voice rose in pitch with each stroke of his finger.

The two girls locked eyes over the top of Harry’s head, their faces mirrors of mischief and pleasure. Fleur’s lips were parted, her breath coming in gasps, while Gabby’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. They began to gasp and squeal at the same time. Their eyes fluttered in a way that was almost identical. Harry shuddered at the sight, feeling their bodies clench around his hands and thighs. He worked his fingers in and out of their asses, feeling the rings of muscle open to him, impossibly tight but willing. The friction of their grinding, the taste of their skin, the smell of their scorching hot pussies … Harry was lost in it, every nerve ending on fire.

Fleur was the first to lose control. Her entire body stiffened, and she buried her face in Gabrielle’s neck, moaning against her skin as she came. A jet of warm fluid splashed over Harry’s thigh, soaking him all the way down to the couch cushion. Fleur convulsed and shook, her asshole clamping down hard on his finger.

Gabrielle was right behind her, hips slamming forward as her pussy spasmed. She wailed and clawed at Harry’s back, then fell limp against his chest, panting and shivering. Her orgasm seemed to echo through her, little aftershocks that made her whimper and grind even after she was spent. For a long moment, the three of them just breathed together, their bodies still tangled in a hot, sticky heap.

Then Fleur started giggling, muffled by Gabrielle’s shoulder. “You see, Gabby? You cannot ‘andle ‘im alone. We must share.” She lifted her head, face flushed and hair sticking to her forehead. “And I think ‘e likes when the three of us are together.”

Gabrielle, still catching her breath, managed a weak laugh. “You are such a brat, Fleur.”

Harry’s hands were still buried in their asses, and he smiled and pulled both of them closer. “Sharing is caring … At least that’s what Gabby told me when she wanted my last Chocolate Frog.”

Fleur and Gabby exchanged a look. They broke into giggling laughter, each kissing Harry sweetly before collapsing onto him, a tangle of limbs and long, shining hair.