ALL CHARACTERS PORTRAYED WITHIN THIS STORY ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE.
Summary: After learning the truth about the prophecy, Harry comes to a single conclusion: He is most definitely going to die. Well, if he’s going out, then Merlin be damned, he’d go out living his life to the fullest. And what better way to do that than by charming the knickers off of every girl who caught his fancy? Hogwarts isn’t ready for a Boy-Who-Lived with a death wish.
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Chapter 30: A Healing Touch
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Scorn was an old friend of Andromeda Tonks.
Born to one of the oldest and egomaniacal families within Magical Britain, Andromeda was raised from the very beginning to expect the scorn of others. Scorn born from the jealousy of those who coveted what the Blacks had. Scorn crafted from the disgust of those who despised the Blacks’ traditions. And of course, scorn from her family themselves, born from their hatred for those they deemed impure.
Andromeda was no stranger to others' scorn. It was a concept she had walked hand in hand with for every single one of her forty-nine years, ever since she was a little girl, small, observant, and still ignorant of her family’s true nature. It had followed her through marble halls and whispered conversations, through slammed doors and colder silences.
Which was why, when the old, weather-worn door before her was wrenched open with a protesting creak, Andromeda didn’t so much as blink at the venomous snarl that greeted her.
“You!”
The wrinkled face of the old woman contorted into a visage of utter disgust as she looked up at Andromeda, thin lips curling as though Andromeda’s prescence itself offended her. Though faded with age, the purple of her irises was still just as sharp and cutting as Andromeda’s own, glinting with undiminished spite.
“Hello, Auntie,” she replied evenly, brushing a stray curl from her face as if greeting a neighbor rather than a hostile relative. “How have you been?”
Cassiopeia Black scoffed, the sound harsh as it broke apart into a string of grating, rattling coughs that bent her slight frame forward.
“Dying, not that you care. You’ve been too busy spreading your legs for that filthy mud-blood of yours to give a damn about your real family,” Cassiopeia snarled once she recovered, gripping the doorframe as if to steady both her body and her temper.
Andromeda hummed, stepping forward and pushing past her Great Aunt with gentle but unyielding insistence, one hand brushing the door wider. She ignored the older witch’s indignant squawk of objection as she crossed the threshold.
“I seem to remember my ‘real family’ disowning me, Auntie,” she replied dismissively, her eyes already moving, taking in her surroundings with quiet curiosity.
She paused just inside, gaze sweeping across the surprisingly modest accommodations of the eldest Black. The simple cottage was small and warm, smelling faintly of herbs and old wood. It was decorated in soft pastels and floral prints. A knitted blanket draped over the back of a sofa. Porcelain figurines lined a shelf. It was the last place she expected to find her Great Aunt living in. A far cry from the imposing halls of Black Manor or the dark, suffocating grandeur of Grimmauld Place.
“Bah! That was all your fool of a grandfather’s doing,” Cassiopeia hacked, shuffling in after her, slippers scuffing against the floor. “I told him not to do it. ‘String the harlot up by her ankles and give her a good smack bottom’ is what I said, but did Arcturus ever listen to me? Of course not!”
The older witch continued to grumble as she shuffled past Andromeda, her words tumbling over one another, interrupted here and there by the occasional cough. Though it was only half past four in the afternoon, she was dressed in a ruffled cotton nightgown, the fabric slightly askew, while a dozen or so hair curlers sat perched atop her head. She kept muttering all the way to a well-worn plush rocking chair, lowering herself into it with a faint groan before setting it into a slow, creaking sway.
“Well, are you going to sit or not?” Cassiopeia barked, one gnarled hand gripping the armrest as she peered at Andromeda expectantly.
Andromeda smiled faintly and obliged, lowering herself into the floral-print armchair opposite her. The chair creaked beneath her weight, its stuffing shifting with a soft sigh. A testament to its age. She crossed one leg over the other, posture relaxed but attentive.
The older witch nodded with a small grunt, rocking once more. “Good. Now what do you want?”
“I see you waste as little time as you did when I was a little girl,” Andromeda huffed, a small laugh slipping through as she folded her hands neatly in her lap.
“Bah!” Cassiopeia waved her off, fingers cutting through the air. “I’m over a century old, girl. I have no time for honeyed words or useless curtsies anymore. A sentiment I suppose we share now.”
“I suppose we do,” Andromeda nodded. “Which is why I’ll be brief. What do you know of blood-based matrilineal curses?”
Cassiopeia frowned in thought, her rocking slowing as her gaze unfocused slightly. Her hands disappeared into the folds of her nightgown before returning with what appeared to be a hand-rolled cigarette, slightly crooked but expertly made.
“I know that they’re sporadic, unpredictable messes,” she drawled, stuffing the cigarette into her mouth and lighting it with a sharp click of her fingers. The tip flared orange as she inhaled. “Blood curses are inherently flawed. The human genome is too complex for a single spell to bind with fully. Most lineage-based curses simply fizzle out after killing their first few victims. The ones that persist have been known to skip over a generation or two at times, or even become dormant completely.”
Andromeda nodded, a small, appreciative smile touching her lips. “I see four decades of retirement have done little to dull your mind.”
“Of course it hasn’t, girl,” Cassiopeia scoffed, exhaling a thin stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “You forget who trained you. I may be old, but I’m still the best damned healer in this god-forsaken country.”
“That you are, which is why I need your help, Auntie,” Andromeda replied, leaning forward slightly, her tone sharpening with purpose.
Cassiopeia grunted and took a lengthy drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing brighter. “Who’s the unlucky bint?”
“Astoria Greengrass.”
“Ah, I see.” Cassiopeia’s rocking resumed, slower now. “The girl’s parents were first cousins, correct? With that amount of shared blood, the curse no doubt had a resurgence.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Andromeda said, her expression sobering. She rested her elbows on her knees, fingers loosely interlaced. “From what her elder sister claims, the girl is as frail as a duckling and yet is barely even sixteen. It appears that the curse has strengthened by an extreme degree thanks to her parents' close relation.”
Cassiopeia shook her head, clicking her tongue as she took another drag, one that was cut short as a violent, hacking cough wracked her thin frame, forcing her forward in her chair.
Andromeda immediately moved to stand, wand already slipping into her hand, ready to summon water, but her aunt waved her off impatiently, one hand raised in refusal.
Instead, Cassiopeia reached once more into her robe and retrieved a small silver flask, its surface dulled with age.
The wrinkled witch unscrewed the lid with practised ease. The sharp, spiced scent of whiskey filled the air almost instantly as she knocked the flask back and took a generous gulp, swallowing hard before letting out a satisfied exhale.
“Ah! That’s better. Vampiric immunodeficiency virus. A little gift I picked up from my time as one of Grindelwald’s lackeys back in the forties. Worth it, in my opinion,” Cassiopeia smirked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I thought VIV could only be transmitted through sexual intercourse with a vamp—Oh.” Andromeda blinked, her brows lifting slightly as realisation dawned, followed swiftly by discomfort as her aunt’s smirk widened.
“Like I said: worth it. Vampires have almost endless stamina, you know?” Cassiopeia said with a lecherous grin, teeth flashing.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Andromeda grimaced faintly, leaning back in her chair. “Back to Astoria…”
Again, Cassiopeia waved her off, smoke trailing lazily from her fingers. “Yes, yes. The curse has strengthened, and now the little bint will probably die a pitiful death if she isn’t cured. It’s all very cut and dry, girl—but why do you need me? I trained you well enough to know how to handle a simple blood malediction.”
Andromeda rolled her eyes.
“Of course I know how to deal with a blood curse, Auntie—but that’s not the issue.”
“Well then, what is? Come now, out with it already, girl!” Cassiopeia snapped, leaning forward in her chair, interest finally piqued.
Andromeda met her gaze, her expression turning serious, voice lowering just slightly.
“I don’t believe it’s the blood curse that’s killing her.”
-
The room was quiet. The only sound that dared to break through the tense silence was the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock above the mantelpiece, each second stretching longer than the last. If it were not for the two individuals sitting across from one another, one could almost assume the small living room was completely devoid of life.
Daphne kept her eyes low, her fingers loosely clasped together in her lap as the silence stretched on. She could feel the other woman’s gaze burning into her, the deep onyx of her eyes threatening to swallow Daphne whole if she dared to look up for too long.
Why was she even here again? Harry had said Cammi wanted to talk. Daphne had objected, of course, but Harry had made it clear the matter wasn't up for debate. And so here she was: sitting stiffly at the edge of her seat before the woman she had sold out and very nearly indirectly killed, shoulders drawn in, cowering beneath her gaze despite herself.
Oh, how the mighty Ice Queen has fallen.
‘It’s for Astoria,’ she told herself, her grip tightening slightly. ‘If they can help Astoria, then I can take a bit of humiliation. It’s for Astoria.’
And still, as the silence continued to reign for what felt like an eternity, Daphne couldn’t help but wish for the torture to be over, whatever form it decided to take.
In the end, her wish was granted. Somewhat at least.
“I almost died.”
Daphne flinched, her shoulders jerking slightly as Cammi’s voice cut through the air without warning. After so long wrapped in tense quiet, she had hardly expected the other woman to actually speak, let alone so bluntly.
Chancing a look, Daphne slowly lifted her gaze to meet Cammi’s. The other woman sat stoically, one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed to the point of indifference, her expression relaxed and impassive just as her voice had been.
“You did,” Daphne replied after a moment, her voice quiet but steady.
Cammi held her gaze for a beat longer, unblinking, before she spoke again.
“You sold me out.”
Daphne nodded, her throat tightening as she dipped her chin. She didn’t trust herself to answer aloud—not without her voice betraying something she wasn’t sure she was allowed to feel.
Again, Cammi held her gaze. Silence slipped back into place between them, heavy and expectant.
Daphne waited for the other woman’s anger to fully come to a boil. It was the only logical conclusion to this. She would weather whatever Cammi threw at her. Screaming, insults, accusations—it didn’t matter. Daphne deserved it. She knew she did.
“Ugh, would you quit it already? God, you’re like a sad fucking puppy.”
“I—What?” Daphne stammered, blinking rapidly as the words failed to make sense. “Quit what? I’m not doing anything.”
Cammi scoffed, throwing her arms up in exasperation before letting them fall back against the armrests with a soft thud. “Yes, you are! You’re sitting there with your sad fucking ‘poor me’ eyes. It’s depressing, honestly. It’s ruining the entire confrontation I had planned.”
“I’m…sorry?” Daphne furrowed her brow, confusion knitting across her features, while Cammi only scoffed again, louder this time.
“You should be! This was supposed to make me feel better! Now I just feel fucking sorry for you,” Cammi groaned, dragging her hands down her face before burying it in them entirely, elbows braced against her knees.
Daphne felt entirely out of her depth. The sharp, almost absurd shift in atmosphere left her floundering, her carefully braced expectations collapsing into something uncertain and awkward. She shifted slightly in her seat, unsure whether to speak or stay quiet.
“We can try again, if that would help?” Daphne offered cautiously after a moment. “I could try controlling my…sad puppy face?”
Cammi let out another long sigh before straightening, pushing her hair back as she leaned into the chair once more. “No. The moment’s gone now anyway.”
Silence returned, but it was different this time. The sharp edge had dulled, leaving behind something far more awkward than tense. Both women seemed acutely aware of it, each waiting for the other to fill the space.
Daphne swallowed, then spoke, her voice softer now but no less certain.
“For what it’s worth… I am sorry.” She paused, her fingers tightening together again as she forced herself to continue. “I have no excuse other than I love my sister dearly. I can’t justify my actions to you, nor will I even try.”
Her gaze dropped briefly before lifting again, steadier this time.
“I regret what I did,” she admitted, the words measured and deliberate, “but I also hope you won’t take offense when I say I would do it again if it meant keeping Astoria safe.”
Cammi, in turn, sighed and gave a nod. “I’d like to say I don’t get why you did it, but that’s not true. I may be an only child but I have people I care about too. I’d wager I’d do the same if I were in your shoes.”
“That hardly means it was right.”
“No. No, it doesn’t.”
Silence, then a beat later…
“Well there is one silver lining,” Daphne supplied, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Cammi raised a brow. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“You won’t have to worry about me marrying your boyfriend anymore.”
Daphne watched as Cammi stilled, her entire frame freezing in place before…
“Pff! Hahaha!”
Without warning, Cammi doubled over, a wild grin splitting her features as she broke apart in a string of loud, raucous laughter. Daphne couldn’t help herself. The other woman’s glee was infectious as a small smile slowly formed at the corners of her lips, broken apart by a handful of giggles.
Fifteen minutes later, that was how Harry found them, their laughter broken up only by the occasional whisper that only served to reignite their glee with a renewed strength.
-
“And you’re sure you’ll be fine?”
“Yes. Like I said, I only need to sign some paperwork and that’s it. I won’t be there long.”
Harry sighed and dragged his fingers through his raven hair. The small mirror in his hand vibrated softly as Cammi’s voice filtered in once more.
“Hey, I’m only going to be out for half an hour tops. I’ll be alright, I’m a big girl.”
“I know,” Harry replied. “I wasn’t implying that you can’t take care of yourself, but Voldemort could have someone watching your old job. You could be walking right into an ambush for all we know.”
“Which is why I’ll have Tonks with me,” Cammi replied, her features set into a look of fond exasperation through the mirror’s glass. “Look, the temp agency has been good to me; they at least deserve the courtesy of me quitting in person rather than through email.”
Harry bit the inside of his cheek. It was still a risk, courtesy or not, but he also knew how stir-crazy Cammi was becoming while she was stuck lying low at Tonks’ place. Even this excursion would be a hollow victory for her. She’d be getting out of the house, sure, but only so she could quit her job. Even if it wasn't her favourite place in the world, it was still a job she had achieved for herself, and she was proud of it. Now she was being forced to throw that away because of her relationship with him.
The guilt he’d been constantly fighting against ever since Cammi was first attacked returned with a vengeance. None of this would be happening if it weren't for him. It was because of Voldemort’s vendetta against him that Cammi was hurt. It was because of him that she was forced to hide away at Tonks’. It was because of him that she had to quit her job.
As if sensing his downward spiral, or perhaps because he was terrible at hiding anything from Cammi, his girlfriend’s voice cut through the raw guilt like a razor.
“None of that now, babe. We’ve talked about this, yeah? You’re stuck with me. A terrorist blowing up my flat doesn’t change that,” she said with a click of her tongue.
Harry huffed, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he nodded. “If you say so.”
“I do! And besides, from what Hermione and Tonks have told me, life and death situations are basically the norm for you lot anyway. I figure that means my brush with death makes me an honorary Gryffon-whats-it.”
Harry laughed and shook his head. “Gryffindor love, and don’t let Tonks hear you say that or else she’ll try to trick you into thinking being a lazy ‘Puff is better.”
Through the mirror, a far-off indigent squawk rattled the glass.
“Oi! You better not be talking shit about Hufflepuff Potter or so help me—”
“Got to go! Love you, bye!” Harry smirked, swiping his hand over the mirror as the image of Cammi’s surprised face disappeared.
It wasn't until the Gryffindor dormitory fell silent around him that he realised it wasn’t Tonks' outrage that had made her appear so shocked.
“Bugger…” Harry cursed.
He’d said ‘Love you’.
Just like that.
He threw it out there so casually, as if that wasn’t the first time he’s spoken those words to Cammi while she was conscious enough to hear them.
Harry cursed again, his fingers once more raking through his hair as he began to pace the floor.
He hadn’t meant to say it. Not like that, at least. He’d meant the words, of course, but that was hardly the point. He’s wanted to tell Cammi he loves her for ages now, since even before the attack, but something has always held him back. After Bellatrix he’d come close, but had never been able to muster up the courage to say them except for the dead of night, when Cammi was lost in her dreams and deaf to the admissions of his heart. Part of him worried if she would even accept his confession. It’d been so long since she had spoken those tiny three words to him back in their room at the Hog’s Head that Harry feared she would no longer feel that way. A foolish thought, he knew, but one that still kept his true feelings at bay.
Until now, that is.
What would the fallout be? Would she ignore it? Pretend it never happened? Or would she question him about it? Demand and explanation for his cowardice?
Over and over these thoughts tumbled in his mind as he paced the floor.
That is, until the mirror vibrated in his hand.
Harry swallowed and turned the small piece of glass over in his hand. On the smooth surface was a single line of wispy smoke-like writing.
I love you too xo - Cammi
Harry slumped back against his bed with a sigh of relief. Of course, she loved him. How foolish could he actually be?
Before he could ponder that thought further, the mirror vibrated one last time.
Tonks said she’s only here for the sex. Btw don’t forget about our ‘date’ tonight ;P- Cammi
The worry and guilt were fully gone now, replaced instead by an amused fondness with an undercurrent of excitement for the evening to come.
-
It took some effort, but Cammi was able to create a small nest atop Tonks bed after half an hour of scrounging up every blanket and duvet around the metamorph’s house. Hopefully, the pink-haired witch wouldn’t mind. She’d left hours ago after they returned from Cammi’s work, citing paperwork to follow up on, so Cammi hadn't been able to ask permission.
It was a small, comfortable island atop the plush mattress, and in its centre Cammi settled, her skin bare and her legs spread wide in preparation.
Beside her, nestled in the folds of a faux-fur throw, was her arsenal for the evening. A sleek, silver vibrator, a curved glass dildo that felt heavenly inside her, and a small, bullet-shaped egg that Tonks had enchanted to vibrate with a terrifying intensity. The cool air was a delicious contrast against her heated skin. Her nipples were already pebbled, tight with anticipation.
Cammi adjusted her position atop the bed, spreading her legs a little wider to accommodate her own fingers as they traced teasing patterns up and down her inner thighs. Tonight had been her idea. Harry had told her of his various flings with other women at Hogwarts. Each story only made Cammi’s womanhood throb with need as she imagined her sexy boyfriend brutally taking another woman until they screamed his name. Of course, she’s seen such a sight before whenever Hermione and Tonks slipped into their bed, and while participating in the fun was far more enjoyable than just watching, Cammi had been intrigued by the idea of watching only for a while now.
And now, here she was. Naked and ready, her own hand trailing over the smooth expanse of her skin as she waited for Harry to call. Her collection of toys beside her, each one promising a different kind of pleasure. But she held back, savouring the anticipation, the slow build of excitement as her fingers brushed over her slick folds.
Just as she was about to dip inside herself, the mirror flickered to life. The sudden light made her jump, but her excitement quickly returned when she saw who was on the other side.
Harry stood, the view of him angled as if he was holding the mirror aloft. His chest was bare, the chiselled flesh of his torso guiding her eyes downwards until they were met with a waterfall of blonde hair where her boyfriend’s cock normally stood.
Cammi’s breath caught in her throat. She slid her hand down her body, her fingers slipping easily through her wetness. "Fuck," she whispered to herself, the sound barely audible in the quiet room.
Cammi did not recognise the blonde witch bobbing her head up and down Harry’s thick shaft, but that didn’t stop Cammi’s pussy from clenching with need as she hungrily watched the other girl work.
“Hey there,” Cammi purred, leaning forward so her breasts were pressed against her knees, her nipples straining towards the glass. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
Harry smirked, his hand coming down to tangle in the witch’s hair, guiding her movements. “You have no idea,” he said, his voice low and rough with desire.
The nameless witch made a small noise in the back of her throat as she pulled back, Harry’s cock popping out of her mouth as she grinned up at Cammi with spit dripping down her lips.
“You must be Cammi! Harry’s told me so much about you! It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Katie!”
Katie's blue eyes sparkled with mirth as she straightened up, making sure to keep her grip on Harry's throbbing cock. She gave him a few slow pumps before turning her attention fully to Cammi.
"Harry's such a lucky man," Katie said with a wink, her gaze raking over Cammi's naked form. "And wow, you've got some amazing ink. Those tattoos are so sexy. I'm totally jealous of your art."
Cammi smirked, her hand trailing down to tease her slick folds. "Mmm, well, aren’t you sweet,” she said, her eyes locked on the blonde witch's perky breasts. “I see Harry wasn’t lying when he said you had fantastic tits.”
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Katie giggled, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of Harry's cock. “Are you ready for the show?”
Though she’d voice it as a question, Katie didn’t wait for Cammi to answer. Instead, er tongue darting out to catch a bead of precum before taking Harry back into her mouth. The wet, slick sounds of her sucking echoed faintly through the magical link, mingling with Harry’s low, ragged groans. Cammi watched, mesmerised, as the blonde witch’s cheeks hollowed with each downward stroke. Her own hand moved in tandem, fingers curling and pumping inside her, matching the pace of Katie’s mouth. The sight of Harry’s hand tangling in Katie’s hair, gently but firmly guiding her head, sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in Cammi’s belly. The cool air of Tonks’ room brushed against her bare shoulders, a stark contrast to the feverish warmth radiating from her core.
"Fuck," Cammi whispered, the word slipping out on a shaky exhale. Her hips lifted off the mattress, pressing her clit against her own knuckles as Katie took him deeper down her throat. Harry groaned as well, letting Katie work him over with practised, enthusiastic strokes. Saliva glistened on her chin, dripping onto her collarbones as she pulled back with a wet pop, giving him a few teasing pumps before diving back down. Cammi’s fingers quickened, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The mirror captured every detail: the flush spreading across Katie’s chest, the way her nipples hardened in the cool dormitory air, the sheer, unadulterated lust in her eyes as she looked up at Harry.
Cammi’s other hand reached for the silver vibrator, her fingers tracing the smooth metal before she pressed the power button. A low, intense hum filled the room, vibrating against the palm of her hand. She guided the humming vibrator down toward her clit. As the vibrations touched her damp skin, she gasped, her body jerking, her thighs trembled against the sheets, her heart hammering against her ribs as she watched on.
Harry gripped Katie by the shoulders, gently pushing the blonde back, his cock slipping free from her lips with a wet slurp. "Turn around," he murmured, his voice rough. "On your hands and knees."
Katie obeyed instantly, turning around and pushing her ass into the air as she propped herself up on her elbows. Cammi increased the intensity of the vibrator, pressing it harder against her clit, her eyes wide as she watched Harry move the mirror, positioning it so she could see his engorged cock pressing against the blonde's slick entrance.
“Yessss,” she moaned softly, pressing the vibrator harder against her cli. “Do it, love. Stretch her open with your big fat cock.”
Harry responded with a low hum as he granted her wish, his hips snapping forward, burying his cock into Katie’s pussy in a single thrust. Katie let out a loud, jagged scream, her fingers digging into the mattress as she was savagely impaled. The sheer force of the thrust caused her to lurch forward, her tits jiggling in the air as Harry began to set a rhythmic pace.
"Oh fuck," Cammi breathed, her eyes fixed on where her boyfriend’s cock disappeared again and again inside the blonde girl’s wet snatch. She could see the power behind every thrust, ripples of flesh cascading down Katie’s ass down to her pale thighs with sharp wet slaps as Harry’s hips collided with her own. It was a thing of beauty, one that had Cammi reaching for the curved glass dildo beside her.
Eager to feel a fraction of what Katie was going through, Cammi slipped the dildo into her mouth and gave it a few quick sucks. Satisfied, the tattooed vixen wasted no time in bringing the crystal phallus to her dripping entrance. It slid inside with ease, her walls parting eagerly to accommodate the toy as the scene before her continued to unfold through the mirror’s glass.
The rhythmic pounding became a frenzy. Harry didn't hold back, his hands squeezing Katie’s ass, spreading her cheeks and putting her twitching asshole on full display as he buried himself deep inside her cunt with every stroke. The sound of his cock bottoming out inside her filled the silence of Cammi's room. Each time he withdrew, the wet slurp of his release echoed in her ears, followed by another violent thump as he plunged back in.
Cammi watched, transfixed, as her boyfriend used the blonde like a toy. The sight of his hands gripping Katie’s waist, leaving faint red marks, the way her body rippled with each impact, the sheer, raw energy of the act—he had used her just like that countless times over the course of their relationship. And judging by how well Katie was handling the intense fucking, the blonde was no stranger to this treatment either. The thought made Cammi’s inner walls clamp viciously around the glass toy as the pressure in her core built at a rapid pace.
As Harry pounded into Katie, the blonde’s body began to convulse, and with it so too did Cammi’s. Her inner muscles clamped down around his cock, her breath hitching as she let out a guttural moan. "Oh fuck, Harry, I'm—" she gasped, her eyes rolling back. "I'm cumming!"
Cammi’s moans joined in with the blonde’s, her own orgasm crashing down around her as her hips jerked uncontrollably while the glass toy inside her became drenched with her juices. Katie’s body shook as well, her back arching as her orgasm crashed over her. Her nails dug into the sheets, her mouth open in a silent scream as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her. Harry didn't stop, his cock still driving into her with relentless force, prolonging her climax. Yet just as it seemed that he was going to fuck the blonde into yet another climax right after her first, his pace shifted, slowing as he pulled out of her twitching cunt.
Without warning, the view from the mirror shifted. Through the haze of her post orgasmic vision, Cammi could just barely make out the shape of Katie’s ass flashing past the glass before the view shifted again, finally settling only a few moments later. Now, instead of having the blonde bent over and taking her from behind, Harry had Katie on her back with her legs folded back while he used the back of her thighs as handholds. He settled between her thighs, his weight pinning her down as he drove into her again. This time, the angle was different, deeper, grinding against her cervix with every thrust.
Katie’s hands flew up to grip his shoulders, her nails scraping down his back. "Harry, oh god, I can't—" she panted, her voice breaking. "It's too much, I can't—"
Katie’s body convulsed again, her third orgasm hitting her with a force that made her scream. Her inner walls clenched around Harry’s cock, her body shaking uncontrollably as he continued to drive into her. The sight of her face, the raw ecstasy in her expression, the way her body completely surrendered to him, it was too much. Before Cammi even knew it, her how hands were moving, the glass dildo flying in and out of her pussy at a blazing speed while the vibrator dug into her clit. Her hips worked in tandem with the toys, hitching and grinding as her second climax tore through her without warning, her body convulsing as she rode out the intense, shuddering waves.
She and Katie were not the only ones succumbing to the pleasure, though. Cammi could see it in the way the muscles of his jaw tightened and in the erratic jerk of his hips. Harry was close, and as hot as it would be to watch her boyfriend cum inside another woman, Cammi wanted more than that.
"Please," Cammi whimpered, her voice cracking. "Harry, please. Cum on her face. Cum all over her tits. I need to see it."
Harry’s eyes flicked toward the mirror, dark and heavy with lust. He didn't slow down. If anything, his thrusts grew harder, more erratic as he grinded himself inside of Katie’s trembling cunt. Just as Cammi began to think he was ignoring her plea, he suddenly pulled back, his cock flying free of Katie’s folds, glistening with her juices. Katie lay panting beneath him, her eyes alight in excitement as Harry stroked himself once, twice…
“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed, his cock erupting with the thick jets of his climax. The first rope of cum hit Katie’s forehead, followed quickly by another across her nose and cheek. He stroked himself faster, painting her face and collarbones in thick, white streaks. Katie didn't flinch. She just lay there, taking it, her eyes half-lidded as the hot seed splattered across her skin. Cammi whimpered, quickly bringing the glass toy to her lips and sucking on it greedily as she pretended the tangy taste of her juices was Harry’s own essence. She watched, completely undone, as Harry emptied himself over Katie’s chest, coating her perky breasts in his release.
When he finally stilled, his chest heaving, Katie immediately sat up, leaning forward as her mouth closed around his softening cock. She sucked gently at first, cleaning him with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue, before moving lower, her tongue dancing across his shaft and coming to circle around his sack, lavishing his balls with warm, wet kisses and soft sucks, her hands massaging his thighs. Cammi watched, her breathing slowly returning to normal, a satisfied, heavy warmth spreading through her limbs.
She set the dildo and vibrator to the side, letting her hands fall to the mattress, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm while she watched the blonde suck her boyfriend back to full hardness. She let the scene play out, a satisfied smile on her face, before she finally reached for the small egg-shaped toy she’d left unused until now.
She was so inviting Tonks, next time. Watching was fun and all, but it would be so much better with the metamorph’s tongue to use instead of a few toys.
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Author’s note
Been working on this one for awhile. I think I rewrote the scene between Cammi and Daphne about 4 different times. There will still be tension there, and the next chapter will build off of that. Aside from that, any theories on what Andromeda was talking about with Cassiopeia?? Let me know below!
Thanks for reading!