Steam rolled off Harry's skin as he stepped from the bath, towel slung low around his hips. The water had washed the sweat and musk from his body, but not his mind. He could still hear his mother's moans, still see her thighs streaked with his seed, still feel the husky promise she had left him with.
He dragged a hand through his damp hair and pulled the door open. His red-haired mother was waiting in the hall.
She wasn't holding a teacup now, or fussing the way she sometimes did when she wanted to keep her hands busy. She was simply standing there naked and unashamed, pale skin flushed with warmth, red hair loose over her shoulders, her eyes fixed on him as if she had been listening for the turn of the handle.
Her emerald gaze dropped at once.
The towel shifted as her fingers caught it. She tugged it loose without a word, letting it fall at his feet. His cock swung free, heavy and flushed from the heat of the bath, and her hand closed around him before he could react. She stroked once, slow and deliberate, peeling his foreskin back until the head gleamed bare. Then she bent close, breathing him in, as though she could test his obedience through scent alone.
"Not touching yourself in there, were you?" she asked slyly, her thumb brushing across the ridge.
Harry's breath caught, his chest tightening. The urge to thrust into her hand almost broke him, but he clenched his jaw instead. "Didn't you promise it would be tonight?" His voice came out rougher than he meant, half a plea, half an accusation.
Her lips curved. She bent lower, pressing a playful kiss to the swollen tip. Heat flared up his spine, sharp and dizzying, and for a heartbeat he thought he might lose control right there in the hall. But she only drew back, mischief flashing across her face in a mock-forgetful smile.
"Oh. Right," she teased, giggling as she slipped past him into the bathroom.
As her bare hip brushed his thigh in passing, Harry's hand snapped out almost without thought. His palm landed with a sharp smack against the curve of her backside. The sound cracked through the steam, and Lily gasped, half in shock, half in delight, before glancing back over her shoulder with a wicked grin.
"You'll pay for that later," she purred, eyes glittering, before vanishing into the bathroom.
Her voice floated back through the door, husky and certain: "Be ready to satisfy me later, Harry. I expect every drop."
Now, as he stood by the fire, his hands flexed at his sides. The images refused to leave him: her lips on his cock, the shiver in her body at his spank, her voice promising she would take more. He stiffened again at the memory, the ache biting sharper against his trousers.
Harry moved quietly through the hall, boots muffled on the rug. Lily was upstairs bathing now. He couldn't let her hear him, couldn't let her guess where he was going. The Floo in the sitting room glimmered faintly, and for once he was grateful the house was old enough to be tied into the Network.
He hesitated only a moment, heart hammering, then grabbed a pinch of powder from the jar on the mantel.
"The Three Broomsticks," he muttered, throwing it down. Green flames roared to life, licking up around him.
The whirl spat him out into the pub's hearth. Madam Rosmerta glanced up from behind the bar, one hand polishing a glass, curls tumbling over her shoulders. Her dress was cut low as ever. Harry's eyes dipped before he could stop himself, heat flushing his cheeks, and he yanked them back up at once.
He stepped out, brushing soot from his cloak. Rosmerta's gaze slid down almost immediately to the bulge in his trousers. Her lips parted in a wide, toothy grin before curling into a smirk. She leaned forward on the counter, elbows pressed together so her breasts rose in a deliberate show.
"Well, well," she said, voice honeyed. "If it isn't young Mr. Potter, Flooing into my pub looking all flustered."
Harry flushed, tugging his cloak tighter around him though it did nothing to hide the bulge. His eyes flicked down despite himself, catching the swell of her cleavage before he forced them back up.
"Evening, Madam Rosmerta," he managed, trying for polite. "I'll have a mead, please."
"Straight to the mead, then?" Rosmerta's grin widened. She plucked a bottle from the shelf with a casual flourish. "You're definitely James's boy." She poured, the amber liquid foaming in the glass, then set it down before him with a clink. "Two Sickles, handsome."
Harry fumbled in his pouch and dropped a couple of Sickles on the bar. Her fingers brushed his knuckles as she scooped them up, lingering just a heartbeat too long.
"Thanks," he muttered, throat dry.
"Anytime," she said with a wink. "Don't drink it all at once. Mead burns hotter than butterbeer."
Harry picked up the mug, the scent already warming his nose. He carried it to a corner table and sat down, trying to steady himself. The mead cooled his tongue, but the fire inside him stayed put.
The hearth cracked behind him. Wet cloaks steamed on pegs by the door. Brass lamps smeared gold across the bottles. The pub smelled faintly of woodsmoke and damp wool, grounding him in the ordinary even as his body refused to calm.
He slouched deeper into the chair, running a thumb over the rim of the mug. The burn lingered, but his body stayed restless. His leg bounced under the table. He stared at the fire for a long moment, wishing it would burn the restless ache out of him.
"Harry."
The voice cut through the crackle of the fire. He looked up to see Ginny Weasley sliding into the seat beside him, butterbeer in hand. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her eyes bright and fixed on him.
"Ginny," he said, surprised. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight."
She shrugged, smiling a little too quickly. "Needed to get out of the house. Butterbeer's the excuse."
Harry gave a half-smile, nodding. "Yeah. Mead's doing the same for me." He lifted his glass.
She studied him for a beat, then said, "I heard you've been dodging the Ministry about your lordship."
Harry made a face. "Dodging's a bit strong. Just… putting it off. They'll drag me into the Wizengamot soon enough."
"Please." Ginny smirked. "Half those fossils would piss themselves if you so much as looked at them."
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You sound like Rita Skeeter."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Rita's full of dragon dung. I don't need to lie, Harry. I just say what's truth. And the truth is, you'd have them tripping over their robes to get out of your way."
"And what about you?" Harry asked. "Still training for the Harpies?"
Her expression brightened, but her shoulders lifted in a quick shrug. "Trials in spring. I'll probably be sick with nerves, but… it's what I want."
Harry smiled at that, a genuine warmth flickering through him. "You'll make it. I've seen you fly. You're better than half their Chasers."
A flush crept higher into her cheeks. She ducked her head for a moment, then looked back at him, bolder this time. Her hand brushed his sleeve. "You've changed," she said softly.
"Have I?" he asked, brow furrowing.
"Yeah," she said. "Like you finally know what you want."
Before he could answer, her hand drifted lower, settling on his thigh. Her fingers spread, tracing a slow circle through the fabric. Harry froze, breath catching. The half-hard strain he'd carried since Rosmerta's smirk hardened fully under her touch.
Ginny's gaze flicked down, then up again. She didn't look away.
Harry's pulse jumped. Merlin. Another bold redhead. I'm in trouble.
"You've changed too," he murmured, voice tight.
Her blush deepened, but her lips curved in a faint, daring smile. "Maybe I stopped playing shy." Her thumb pressed closer, brushing the outline of his cock. "I've thought about you more times than I should admit."
"Ginny…" His voice was rough, but he didn't pull away.
She leaned a little nearer, whispering: "Mum would hex me into next week if she knew. She says any girl who lets herself get knocked up without a ring isn't fit to be a bride." Her thumb stroked along him again, firmer this time. Her eyes held his, steady. "But right now? I don't care."
Her words made him jerk against her hand, cock throbbing hot and eager to be satisfied. For a moment neither of them moved. Their eyes locked, heat and challenge between them.
Harry swallowed hard, turned his head toward the bar, and cleared his throat. "Rosmerta. Are the rooms upstairs free?"
Rosmerta's eyes flicked from Ginny's flushed face to Harry's trousers, where the bulge was now impossible to miss. One brow arched high, and a knowing grin spread across her lips. "Keys are on the hook," she said, amused. "Walls aren't as thick as you'd like, love." She tapped the counter once with her finger as she slid a brass key toward him, smirk never fading.
Harry grabbed it, pulse hammering. Ginny rose quickly, tugging him up beside her. She stepped in front of him without a word, walking with deliberate sway, shielding his bulge from Rosmerta's gaze. Her hips swayed with each step, her skirt lifting slightly as she took the narrow staircase first.
Harry followed close behind, trying to keep his breathing steady. His eyes locked on the curve of her backside, toned from years on a broom, flexing under the hem of her skirt with every step. Heat roared through him all over again. He gripped the railing hard, resisting the urge to grab her and bend her over halfway up the stairs. He wanted to yank her skirt up and spank that perfect arse until it glowed red with his handprints.
By the time they reached the top, his cock ached painfully against his trousers. Ginny glanced back, lips curved in a wicked smile. Harry felt caught as if she knew exactly what he had been thinking.
The upstairs room was narrow and dim, the air carrying a faint mix of polish and spilled firewhisky. A single lamp glowed weakly on the nightstand, throwing soft light across the unmade bed. The quilt was bunched at the foot, the pillow slightly indented, as if someone had napped there earlier. Outside the window, Hogsmeade's lamps flickered through fogged glass.
Harry shut the door, but Ginny was already on him, slamming him back against the wood. Her mouth crashed against his, clumsy and breathless, tongue forcing its way forward. He kissed her back, swept away by her urgency, hands clamped to her waist as though she might slip from his grasp.
Her fingers tore at his clothes. His cloak dropped in a heap. She yanked his jumper up and over his head in rough tugs until his chest was bare. She broke the kiss only to bite his lower lip, then shoved him toward the bed. He landed heavily, pulse hammering, as she climbed into his lap and straddled his thighs.
They devoured each other's mouths, teeth clashing, tongues tangling in hot, frantic strokes. His hands slid beneath her jumper, palms searing against the curve of her back, then higher to seize her breasts. She gasped into his mouth when his fingers pinched a nipple, hips grinding down against the hot erection pressing through his trousers.
They kissed until their lungs burned, lips swollen and wet. Then Ginny pulled away, face flushed, eyes fever-bright. She slid from his lap, dropped to her knees between his spread thighs, and went straight for his belt.
The buckle clattered as she tore it open, dragging his trousers down. His cock sprang free from his briefs, the thick head already wet with pre-cum.
She froze for a moment, staring, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Then her hand wrapped around him, stroking once, slow and reverent.
"I used to think about this," she whispered, glancing up at him with her cheeks burning. "That first summer you came to the Burrow… I used to lie awake wishing you'd come into my room instead of Ron's."
Harry's throat tightened. "Ginny…" His voice came out rough, almost strangled.
She stroked him again, thumb smearing pre-cum across the head. "I dreamed of touching you. Of kissing you until we couldn't stop. I wanted to be the first girl you ever kissed. The first girl you ever noticed."
Before he could respond, she leaned forward and took his cock into her mouth.
Harry groaned, falling back onto his elbows, head tipping against the mattress. She was unpracticed, her jaw stretching wide around him, but her hunger was wild. Saliva coated his shaft almost instantly, spit dripping from her chin and sliding onto her chest as she bobbed. She hummed around him, the vibration jolting up his length, her fist twisting at the base in messy rhythm.
Her eyes watered as she pushed deeper, gagging once, then dragging back with a wet gasp before shoving down again. Strings of spit stretched from her lips to his cock, shining in the dim light. She moaned as she worked, the sound muffled and frantic, every vibration running through him.
Harry looked down through a haze of lust. She was wrecked already: flushed cheeks, wet chin, eyes glassy, spit and drool streaking her face. The sight of her kneeling there, ruined and desperate, made his cock twitch inside her throat. His hand tangled in her hair, fastening her pace, guiding her bobbing.
She squeezed her eyes shut, throat flexing as she tried to take him deeper. His cock bumped the back of her throat and she gagged, choking on him, then pressed harder, stubborn, refusing to stop. Wet, guttural sounds filled the room with each gasp and swallow.
"I'm close," he groaned, hips jerking. Heat coiled sharp in his stomach. His balls tightened hard, his breath stuttering, and her mouth only grew wetter as she slobbered around him.
The tension broke. His body snapped forward as release tore through him. He gasped, hips lifting, cock pulsing in her throat. Hot spurts of thick cum shot straight down her gullet. Ginny coughed but swallowed greedily, lips stretched tight around him, refusing to pull back. The last ropes smeared her lips and tongue when she finally slid off, licking the head clean in frantic little strokes, whimpering as she sucked the last drops from him.
When it was over, she sagged back onto her heels, thighs pressed tight, breath tearing through her lungs. Her hair clung in damp strands to her flushed face, chin shiny with spit and streaked with his cum, lips swollen and wet.
Harry sat forward, still panting, and cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. Her lips glistened with his release, her eyes dazed.
"You've thought about this for years," he murmured.
Her lips parted. She nodded once, voice hoarse. "Since the first time I saw you." She swallowed, then licked at the corner of her mouth.
As the edge of her hunger dulled, a different feeling crept in uncertainty and vulnerability. "Tell me… am I the first? The first woman you've… actually fucked?"
Harry hesitated, his thumb brushing along her damp jawline. He shook his head slowly. "No."
Ginny's eyes flickered, something sharp passing through them. Her jaw tightened for a heartbeat, but she said nothing. She lowered her gaze, breath catching in her chest. Jealousy burned hot in her gut, but she swallowed it, refusing to let the words out.
Harry leaned closer, his fingers still tangled in her messy hair. "But I've never wanted anyone like this," he murmured, voice low and steady. "I want to keep you under me all night, fill your womb, fuck you until you can't think of anything else."
That softened her, if only slightly. She breathed out, lips parting, and let him pull her up onto the bed. Her body trembled, her skirt still hitched high from kneeling, knickers soaked through with arousal. Harry kissed her hard, tasting himself on her lips, and then his hands slid down, curling into the waistband.
She let him strip the fabric down her thighs. Her knickers were soaked through, clinging to her skin before he peeled them off and tossed them aside. Ginny's entire body flushed scarlet under his gaze, lying bare beneath the dim lamplight. Her breasts rose and fell with each quick breath, nipples stiff, stomach taut, thighs shining where wetness had run down her skin.
Harry's cock twitched at the sight. He pushed her forward until she braced on her hands and knees, her arse lifted instinctively, legs spread wide enough to show the wet pink folds of her pussy glistening under the lamplight.
He grabbed his wand from the floor where it had fallen with his trousers. "Muffliato." The charm hummed in the air, sealing them in silence.
Ginny shivered, burying her face in the pillow as his hands gripped her hips. Harry's eyes devoured her: the glisten of her swollen lips, the little bead of wetness sliding down onto the sheets.
His palm cracked across her arse, the sharp sound hanging in the muffled room. Ginny yelped, arching hard against the sting.
"You like that?" he growled.
Her voice was muffled in the pillow. "Yes."
Another smack landed, harder, and she whimpered, hips rocking back toward him. A third, a fourth, each one making her squeal, her skin flushed red beneath his hand.
"Good girl," he muttered. He slid two fingers through her slick folds, coating them in her juices, circling her clit until her moans turned ragged. Then he shoved them inside, knuckles deep, curling them forward until she cried out into the mattress.
Her walls clamped around him, her cunt dripping against his hand. He spanked her again, the sharp sting making her squeal louder, before thrusting his fingers harder, faster, stretching her open as wetness poured down his wrist.
"Listen to you," he said roughly, curling deep, pressing that spot that made her legs kick against the sheets. "You've been waiting for this cock since you were a girl. Wanted me to bend you over, spank you, and fill you until you couldn't think. Wanted me to fuck you like my perfect little wife."
"Yes," Ginny gasped, knuckles white as she clutched the sheets. "Yes, Harry, please, don't stop."
His hand slammed down across her arse again, and that was enough. Her orgasm broke hard, her body collapsing forward, face pressed into the bed, but her hips stayed high, shaking violently as her cunt clenched tight around his fingers. Hot gushes soaked his hand, dripping down her thighs as she wailed into the sheets.
Harry pulled out slowly, his fingers glistening. He stroked her folds once more, then slid higher, smearing the mess over the tight ring of her arse.
Ginny flinched, gasping at the touch, her body trembling. Her breath came fast against the pillow, voice shaky but defiant. "Not my pussy… if you take me raw, I'll get pregnant. One night with you and I'd never stop wanting it. I can't risk it, not with Harpies trials in the spring."
Harry leaned down, lips brushing her ear, his slick fingers still circling her rim. His voice was low, rough. "Then I'll have you here. I'll fuck your arse raw until you're begging for more. You shouldn't have teased me with it, Gin. Now I'm not stopping, no matter how much you squirm."
Ginny whimpered as his finger pushed harder, breaching her tight hole. Her nails clawed the sheets, her whole body tense, but the sting only made her wetter. She moaned into the pillow, torn between fear and hunger.
He worked the finger in deep, twisting slowly. She shook beneath him, gasping at every push. "Harry… no one else… I want it to be you… only you."
He smirked against her ear. "Jealous little fangirl. Getting exactly what you begged for."
Another finger pressed in beside the first, stretching her tighter. Ginny squealed, arching, hips shoving back against his hand even as she shook from the burn. "It hurts… but I love it."
Her arse clenched helplessly, already struggling to take him.
Harry pulled his fingers free and grabbed the base of his cock. He lined the thick head against her stretched rim, slick with her own juices. "Relax for me."
Ginny bit the pillow, her whole body tensed.
He pushed slowly, inexorably. The blunt pressure forced her open until her cry tore into the mattress. Her arsehole stretched wide around him, inch after inch disappearing inside until his hips pressed flush against her arse.
Ginny sobbed into the pillow, overwhelmed. "It's too much, Harry. It's too big."
Harry gripped her hips tight and held still. "You can take it, Ginny. No one else is going to get this from me."
She shuddered, jealousy twisting into desperate pride. She wanted to be the only one who could handle him, the only one who could claim Harry Potter this way.
The pain melted into a heavy, unbearable pleasure. She moaned helplessly as he began to move, slow thrusts at first, dragging his cock through the tight grip of her arse. Each push made her cry out, each pull set her shaking.
"Harry, you're tearing me apart… don't you dare stop."
He groaned, sweat dripping down his temple. "So tight, Gin… feels incredible."
The words broke her. Ginny's orgasm ripped through her, her body collapsing forward, arse still high, her pussy soaking the sheets while her arse clenched tight around him.
Harry snarled, fisting her hair and pressing her head down until her flushed cheek ground into the mattress. "Tell me you love me, Gin. Tell me you're mine."
"Yes," she sobbed, tears streaking her cheeks, her voice breaking but fierce. "I love you, Harry. I've always loved you. I'm yours, only yours. Please, don't stop."
He drove harder, pounding into her until the bed rattled. Her body jolted with every thrust, her moans breaking.
His balls tightened, the heat coiling sharp and fast. He yanked her hips back into him one last time, burying himself to the hilt. With a guttural groan he spilled inside her, cock pulsing as thick, hot cum filled her arse in heavy spurts.
Ginny wailed into the sheets, her body clenching around him as if trying to hold every drop. She felt the heat flood her, the forbidden stretch and the claim of it making her whole body quake.
Harry sagged over her, still buried deep, his breath ragged against her neck. "From now on, you're mine, Ginny. Next time, I'll fuck your cunt until… you cannot sit a broom for weeks."
Ginny shivered beneath him, dazed and trembling, her arse still stretched around him, the weight of his cum heavy inside.
Harry finally pulled back, his cock sliding out of her stretched arse with a wet, sticky sound. Ginny let out a low groan, her body sagging forward onto the sheets. A heavy spill of cum leaked from her, trailing down the curve of her backside and dripping between her thighs in a hot mess.
She collapsed sideways onto the mattress, limp and flushed. Harry lay back with her, and she rolled into his chest. Her face pressed against him, her breath ragged against his skin as they panted together in the afterglow. She clung to him tightly, as though afraid he might vanish if she let go.
Ginny whispered at last, voice trembling with awe and a sharp edge of jealousy. "What… what are we now?"
Harry tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. His hand slid down between her legs, finding her still wet. Two fingers pushed inside easily, drawing a helpless moan from her. He pulled them out slow, slick and glistening, and held them up between them.
"You already know, Gin." His voice was low, rough. "You're mine."
Her lips parted. He pressed his fingers to her mouth, and Ginny obeyed without hesitation, sucking them clean, her eyes burning with need as she moaned softly around him.
Harry withdrew, stood, and reached for his trousers. As he dressed, he bent down and picked up her discarded knickers from the floor. He tucked them into his pocket without a word. Ginny saw, her face burning, but she did not ask for them back. A small, proud shiver ran through her instead, he had taken her panties, and she wanted him to keep them.
Harry fastened his belt and looked down at her, his eyes steady on hers. "If you want to feel this again, think about it first. If you still want me, fly to my room in Godric's Hollow. Come because you want me, Gin." His mouth curved slightly, the words low and certain. "Next time, I'll make your cunt mine."
Ginny sat up slowly, still trembling, her skirt bunched high around her waist, her body glowing with sweat. Before he could turn away, she leaned forward, pressing a last kiss to his cock through the open seam of his trousers. "Thank you," she whispered against him, her voice hoarse, "for making me cum so hard."
Before leaving, they straightened the bed and vanished the worst of the stains with a few quick charms. Harry fixed the quilt neatly at the foot, while Ginny righted the lamp and gathered the scattered clothes. Within minutes the room looked as though no one had ever touched it, save for the scent of sex still clinging to the air.
When they finally went down the stairs together, Ginny stayed close behind Harry. Her stride was shorter than usual, thighs tight, every step a sore reminder of what they had done.
Rosmerta noticed at once. She leaned her elbows on the counter, waiting until they were close enough that no one else could hear. Her lips curved into a slow grin.
"Merlin's beard," she murmured low, eyes flicking to Ginny's hips. "I've seen that walk before. Careful, girl, or you'll give the whole pub ideas. Best work on that."
Ginny nearly tripped on the last step, her face scarlet as she clutched Harry's sleeve, mortified.
Harry kept his expression unreadable, though the corner of his mouth twitched with the faintest smirk. He stepped up to the bar and set several galleons on the polished wood. "For the room, the drinks, and Floo powder in advance."
Rosmerta counted the coins, plucked a few free, and pressed them back toward him. "Too much, love. Rooms, drinks, and powder don't cost near that. Keep the change."
Harry didn't move to take it. His green eyes held hers, steady and deliberate.
Rosmerta's grin softened as her gaze flicked between him and Ginny. She drew her hand back, understanding. "Don't worry, Harry. Your secret's safe. But if she ends up pregnant, I might pour you both a celebratory drink. Potters and redheads do have a history."
Ginny's mouth fell open, her face burning hotter still. Heat and jealousy tangled in her chest, though a flicker of pride burned beneath it. Rosmerta had noticed, and Harry was hers.
Harry's reply was flat, edged with iron. "She hasn't decided that yet. That'll be her choice." His gaze flicked briefly to Ginny, unblinking, before returning to Rosmerta.
Rosmerta chuckled low in her throat, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough, Harry. Fair enough." She reached for the bottles behind her. "Now, what will you drink? You both look like you could use something strong."
"Two firewhiskies," Harry said evenly.
Rosmerta poured quickly, sliding the glasses across the bar.
Harry carried the drinks to a corner table. Ginny followed, still flushed, her legs brushing his beneath the wood once they sat.
He raised his glass. "Good luck with training tomorrow."
Ginny managed a faint smile. "Then get me a new broom. I'll need it if I'm going to keep up."
Harry smirked. "I'll sort it tonight."
She hesitated, chewing her lip. She almost swallowed the words, but they tore out anyway: "Harry… is there someone else? Another woman? Is it Hermione?"
He took a slow sip before answering. "Your jealousy's cute, Gin. But save those questions until you can handle my libido on your own. Until then, don't waste your breath worrying."
Ginny flushed, caught between shame and a flicker of pride at being called "cute." She pressed her glass to her lips to hide her face, but her knuckles tightened on the stem.
Her mouth opened again, but Harry cut her off with a look. "I'm still raring to go another five rounds tonight. Do you want to test that when you've got practice in the morning?"
Ginny bit down on her lip, shaking her head quickly. "Not tonight. I'd never be able to walk onto the pitch."
Harry leaned back, satisfied. "Then I'll order top broom for you. Next time, you better be ready to give me a proper ride."
A spark of excitement flickered in her eyes despite the heat still in her cheeks. She leaned in, and he kissed her long enough to leave her lips swollen.
When their glasses were empty, he stood, pulling his cloak tight around himself. "I have to go now," he said quietly.
Ginny nodded, reluctant but glowing, her eyes bright with pride and longing.
As Harry strode toward the fireplace, Rosmerta glanced over once more, a sly grin on her face as she polished a glass. Ginny ducked her head, but Harry didn't break stride. He tossed in a pinch of powder and spoke clearly. "Potter Cottage."
The pub spun away in a rush of emerald fire.
***
Author's Note: In this series, the main theme will be taboo, with Harry's cock impaling multiple milf pussies along with those a bit too horny to ignore. Alice, Molly, Petunia, and Emma Granger. I already have outlines for where it's heading, but I'm open to feedback and new names as long as they fit the theme.
Chapter three is already live, with previous redhead ready to drain Harry dry. You can read it early there. P*treon.c*m/Omninymph.
I'd love your feedback on this chapter, and any ideas for future chapters. If you suggest something, make sure it keeps with the taboo theme and do mention the kinks that suit those characters.