Fic ~ Seven Month Itch
Title: Seven Month Itch
Word Count: 2,638
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17, sexual content
Disclaimer: JKR owns, no profit, etc., etc., etc.
Summary: Seven months after the birth of James a series of misunderstandings land Harry and Ginny both in the untenable position of involuntary celibacy.
Authors Note: I come back to this fic journal bearing SMUT! My first H/G smut, in fact. It's pretty much a PWP. The title is, of course, a riff on the classic film Seven Year Itch.
Seven months.
Seven bloody months.
Seven long, lonely, and horny months.
Ginny Potter stood before the mirror in the master bathroom, brushing her hair with long, steady strokes. It was a part of her normal evening ritual; shower, moisturizer, nightgown, hair-drying charm, and brush. One hundred strokes. Then bed.
In the past that ritual had, more often than not, included sex with her husband. But that hadn’t been the case for seven months now.
Seven bloody months.
The words were almost a chant in her head, timed with each stroke of the boar-bristle brush through her long hair. Seven. Stroke. Bloody. Stroke. Months. Stroke.
Ginny knew that Harry was taking care of himself, so to speak. She had gone to the bathroom one morning to fetch a hairclip when she heard him in the shower. The soft sounds of pleasure that came from him had made her flush to the roots of her hair and tempted her to cast of her dressing gown and join him. Instead she had backed out of the room and quietly pulled the door closed, leaving Harry to his “task”.
She was also more than willing to admit that she was dealing with the situation in her own way. She wasn’t a total hypocrite, after all. The day after she had learnt why Harry’s showers had suddenly lengthened she had paid a visit to her sister-in-law. Fleur had been angry on Ginny’s behalf, understanding of what the problem was, and more than helpful in providing a few spells. Spells that, she confided, were taught in a special seventh year class at Beauxbatons.
Upon arriving home that afternoon and putting young James down for his nap Ginny had tested one of Fleur’s spells. After a mind-blowingl, intense orgasm she had lain naked on the bed, wondering why such magical knowledge was excluded from the Hogwarts curriculum.
But it wasn’t the same as Harry. She wanted her husband. She wanted to kiss him, and stroke the muscles on his back, and feel his weight pressing her into the mattress as his cock nudged between her legs, teasing her. She wanted to feel his mouth on her breasts and his hands stroking her thighs, parting them gently before touching her intimately with his mouth and his tongue.
She wanted Harry.
Ginny was embarrassed that she had allowed whatever was affecting their sexual relationship to go on for as long as it had. Normally never one to shun a confrontation she had chosen to turn a blind eye on this one and it didn’t take a genius to understand why. She was terrified that since her pregnancy and the birth of their first child Harry no longer found her attractive and desirable.
But after another visit and long conversation with Fleur she had decided that the situation had to come to an end. However things turned out the ridiculousness was over. Not that she planned on tying Harry to the bed and riding him until they were both dizzy with pleasure, but they were going to talk, and he was going to tell her what the hell was going on in that head of his, because they both deserved better than what they were currently living with.
**~**~**~**~**~**
Harry was sprawled on the sofa in the lounge, listening to the sounds of his wife preparing for bed. The shower had, for some reason, seemed unnaturally loud this evening. The floor joists creaked slightly as she moved about their bedroom, and then it was silent. Harry knew that meant she was before the mirror, brushing her hair. He was tempted to go upstairs, take the brush from her and finish the task himself. He loved to feel her hair in his hands, and to inhale the rich, citrus scent of her shampoo. Just thinking about it, and wondering what she was wearing, made his dick swell and press against the sweatpants he had changed into earlier that evening.
He stifled a groan and shifted his body on the sofa, using every ounce of self-restraint to keep from sliding his hand inside his pants. He wanted his wife. He wanted to press his lips against the pulse in her throat and suck on her earlobes. He wanted to taste her warm skin as he laved her nipple with his tongue and feel her nails scratch lightly down his back. He wanted her hand to stroke his cock until he was near to bursting and listen to her sigh of contentment when he slid inside her.
He wanted Ginny.
He couldn’t believe that things had gotten to the point they were at. It had been his fear that had started the whole mess. James’ birth had not been easy, and amidst all of the pain and the blood that his wife had endured Harry had felt a horrible dread of ever putting her through that again. He had been terrified by the thought of losing her, and a part of him had decided that he couldn’t risk her getting pregnant again.
That had been seven months ago. Seven long, lonely, and horny months. By the time he had decided that his fears were groundless Ginny seemed perfectly fine and content with things. He had been convinced that she was scared of childbirth and unwilling to take the risks again, so he had left her alone.
But that needed to stop. Tonight. Not that he planned to restrain her on the bed and pound into her until they both passed out from the pleasure, but they were going to talk, and she was going to tell him what the hell was going on in that head of hers, because they both deserved better than what they were currently living with.
The ceiling creaked above his head again, and Harry knew that Ginny had slid into bed. She wouldn’t have the lights off for sleep right away; she’d be reading Quiddith Weekly and making mental notes for her next Daily Prophet article. With a sense of purpose and determination he turned off all of the downstairs lights, checked the locks on the doors, and then climbed the stairs to their bedroom.
He stopped in his tracks in the doorway. Ginny’s red hair gleamed in the soft light from the bedside lamp and her skin glowed against the deep forest green of her nightgown. He knew that nightgown. She had worn it on their honeymoon. For about one minute.
The blood that didn’t suffuse his face rushed to his groin, and his erection, which had been half-hearted before, surged to life. He must have made some sort of sound, either a groan or a half-whimper, because Ginny set down her magazine and met his eyes.
“Harry. . .”
“Ginny. . .”
“We need to talk.” They spoke simultaneously. Harry grinned and moved to the bed, sitting down with his back to the door so that he was facing Ginny. “You first,” he said.
A deep flush rose up Ginny’s chest and neck before spreading over her entire face. It was one thing to decide that a conversation was necessary, but to actually put the issue into words made Ginny cringe. But she plunged on.
“Why are we not having sex anymore, Harry?” she asked, surprised at her own bluntness.
Harry was taken aback. It was the very subject that he had wanted to discuss; he just hadn’t thought that Ginny would bring it up. He hadn’t even thought that she was bothered by the situation.
“I don’t know,” he replied with total honesty. “Why do you think?”
Ginny shrugged, but Harry could see past the pretend nonchalance. She was uncomfortable and embarrassed, and even a little bit. . .
He looked into her eyes and what he saw shocked him. She was actually scared.
“Ginny?” he asked softly, reaching out and resting a hand on her arm.
Tears were in her eyes. “Why don’t you want me anymore, Harry?”
“Not want. . .? Is that what you think?”
Ginny nodded. “What else could it be? I must have been so fat and ugly by the time James was born, and -“
“Fat and ugly?” Harry asked, his voice rising with surprise. “Ginny, the last thing in the world you are is ugly, believe me.” He took a deep breath before plunging ahead. “The truth is that I was so scared after James’ birth - scared that I would lose you - that I couldn’t even think about making love with you because I didn’t want to risk another pregnancy.” He shifted on the bed, moving closer to her, and stroked her cheek. “By the time I got over those irrational fears I thought you were happy with how things were.”
“Happy? Not a chance! But I thought that you didn’t find me desirable anymore, and I was afraid to ask because I didn’t want to hear that from you, and. . .”
Harry felt a lump in his throat. “Not find you desirable? Ginny. . .” He stopped talking and took her hand in his, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. “Does that feel like a man that doesn’t desire you?”
She smiled. “No, I have to admit it doesn’t.” She sat up and slid closer to him on the bed until their noses almost touched. “I guess the only remaining question is what do you intend to do with this,” she said, squeezing him gently.
Harry swore under his breath, quickly Summoned his wand and made his clothes vanish. In the blink of an eye there was no longer any cloth between Ginny’s hand and his straining erection. He sighed at the feel of her soft skin against him and brought his lips to hers. As they kissed he leaned into her, pushing her back against the pillows until she lay on the bed and with Harry half on top of her.
“I’ve missed you so much, Harry,” she said when he released her mouth to trail kisses down her neck. He made an inarticulate sound of agreement as he moved his mouth still lower, grazing his lips across the upper curve of her breasts. At the same time one of his hands was sliding up her leg under the silky material of her nightgown. The hand encountered no resistance; Ginny wasn’t wearing any knickers.
“Minx,” he growled against her skin. Ginny laughed and sank her fingers into Harry’s hair, pressing his face against her breast. He responded by flicking his tongue against one of her nipples through the nightgown, teasing her.
“Harry. . .” His name came out like a plea, and he answered it. His wand was nearby, so he picked it up and used it to make the nightgown vanish before tossing it away to the other side of the room. It shattered a small vase on one of the bookshelves, but neither of them heard it, being too lost in the sensation of his bare skin on hers.
When Harry took her nipple in his mouth Ginny’s hand closed spasmodically on his cock, making him groan. She started to stroke him in rhythm with the motion of his tongue
“Jesus, Gin. . .” Harry’s breath caught and his eyes drifted closed. He lay beside Ginny on his side, letting her hands work on him. With every stroke she dropped her fingers down to graze his balls, making him suck in his breath. She leaned into him and caught his lower lip between her teeth, tugging gently, before covering his mouth with hers and letting her tongue dance with his.
Without breaking the kiss Harry shifted their bodies again, laying Ginny on her back and tucking her in close against him. He slid a hand between her legs, tangling his fingers in the darker red curls at the apex of her thighs. She was warm and extremely wet; completely ready for him. He dipped a finger into her entrance; she sighed and pushed against him, lifting her hips into his touch. Her legs fell open and Harry felt intoxicated by her scent.
“Please. Harry.” Ginny’s breath was coming faster.
“Please what, Gin?” he asked, teasing her clit with his thumb.
“Put you mouth on me.”
Harry didn’t need her to ask twice. Coaxing her legs further apart he slid down her body, peppering her stomach with wet kisses as he went. His fingers didn’t stop their ministrations until he was able to replace them with his mouth and tongue.
Ginny moaned at the first stroke of his tongue on her folds. He hands balled into fists, clenched around the fabric of the bedspread. When he grazed her clit with his teeth she cried out, jerking her hips upward. He used his tongue to penetrate her repeatedly; each time she eagerly lifted her hips to him. He pushed her to the brink of orgasm before drawing back, kissing her so she could taste her own juices.
Ginny pushed against Harry until he lay flat on his back, running one hand as far as she could reach down the length of his body. On each upward stroke she grazed his straining cock, making it jump against her hand. She broke off the kiss with a mischievous grin before sliding down his body and taking him into her mouth.
“Jesus Christ!” he called out, jerkily pushing himself deeper into the warmth of her mouth. She sucked on him as she moved her mouth along his length until Harry thought his head would explode. He took hold of Ginny by the waist and lifted her so that she straddled him, her damp heat poised above his throbbing member. With a grin she positioned him at her slit and slid down on him, encompassing him in her silken walls. They both sighed in contentment as they came together.
Ginny didn’t wait very long before she began to move. At first it was just a simple grinding of her hips against his, a motion that rubbed her clit against him. Harry reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands, flicking his thumbs across her nipples. Ginny smiled and lifted herself, almost completely separating from him, before sinking back down on him. She did that several more times, moving faster each time. Harry lifted his hips with her, pushing against her downward strokes. He took one hand and began to rub her clit, making her moan and move faster. He knew she was on the verge of climax when the muscles of her thighs clenched around his hips. He thrust up into her one last time and she gasped, her interior muscles clutching his cock in spasms that rippled along his length.
Before her orgasm subsided her took hold of her hips and flipped the pair of them over, pinning her beneath him. He held most of his weight on his arms and began thrusting into her, harder and faster in response to her barely articulate pleas. He felt his own climax building; the tightening muscles in his abdomen gathering themselves for the last push.
“GOD!” Ginny cried out as she came again, her head thrown back against the pillows as pleasure tore through her. Her walls clenched around his cock, pushing him over the edge. With one last thrust Harry came, exploding inside her. He collapsed against her, waiting for his breathing to return to normal.
He didn’t know how much later it was before he slid off of Ginny and lay on his stomach beside her. He turned his head to look at her sweat-sheened face.
“Holy shit,” he said.
Ginny laughed. “I gotta hand it to you Potter. You really know how to make up for lost time.” She rolled onto her side and lay a hand on his back. “Remind me again why we stopped doing this?”
“Damned if I know.”
Word Count: 2,638
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17, sexual content
Disclaimer: JKR owns, no profit, etc., etc., etc.
Summary: Seven months after the birth of James a series of misunderstandings land Harry and Ginny both in the untenable position of involuntary celibacy.
Authors Note: I come back to this fic journal bearing SMUT! My first H/G smut, in fact. It's pretty much a PWP. The title is, of course, a riff on the classic film Seven Year Itch.
Seven months.
Seven bloody months.
Seven long, lonely, and horny months.
Ginny Potter stood before the mirror in the master bathroom, brushing her hair with long, steady strokes. It was a part of her normal evening ritual; shower, moisturizer, nightgown, hair-drying charm, and brush. One hundred strokes. Then bed.
In the past that ritual had, more often than not, included sex with her husband. But that hadn’t been the case for seven months now.
Seven bloody months.
The words were almost a chant in her head, timed with each stroke of the boar-bristle brush through her long hair. Seven. Stroke. Bloody. Stroke. Months. Stroke.
Ginny knew that Harry was taking care of himself, so to speak. She had gone to the bathroom one morning to fetch a hairclip when she heard him in the shower. The soft sounds of pleasure that came from him had made her flush to the roots of her hair and tempted her to cast of her dressing gown and join him. Instead she had backed out of the room and quietly pulled the door closed, leaving Harry to his “task”.
She was also more than willing to admit that she was dealing with the situation in her own way. She wasn’t a total hypocrite, after all. The day after she had learnt why Harry’s showers had suddenly lengthened she had paid a visit to her sister-in-law. Fleur had been angry on Ginny’s behalf, understanding of what the problem was, and more than helpful in providing a few spells. Spells that, she confided, were taught in a special seventh year class at Beauxbatons.
Upon arriving home that afternoon and putting young James down for his nap Ginny had tested one of Fleur’s spells. After a mind-blowingl, intense orgasm she had lain naked on the bed, wondering why such magical knowledge was excluded from the Hogwarts curriculum.
But it wasn’t the same as Harry. She wanted her husband. She wanted to kiss him, and stroke the muscles on his back, and feel his weight pressing her into the mattress as his cock nudged between her legs, teasing her. She wanted to feel his mouth on her breasts and his hands stroking her thighs, parting them gently before touching her intimately with his mouth and his tongue.
She wanted Harry.
Ginny was embarrassed that she had allowed whatever was affecting their sexual relationship to go on for as long as it had. Normally never one to shun a confrontation she had chosen to turn a blind eye on this one and it didn’t take a genius to understand why. She was terrified that since her pregnancy and the birth of their first child Harry no longer found her attractive and desirable.
But after another visit and long conversation with Fleur she had decided that the situation had to come to an end. However things turned out the ridiculousness was over. Not that she planned on tying Harry to the bed and riding him until they were both dizzy with pleasure, but they were going to talk, and he was going to tell her what the hell was going on in that head of his, because they both deserved better than what they were currently living with.
**~**~**~**~**~**
Harry was sprawled on the sofa in the lounge, listening to the sounds of his wife preparing for bed. The shower had, for some reason, seemed unnaturally loud this evening. The floor joists creaked slightly as she moved about their bedroom, and then it was silent. Harry knew that meant she was before the mirror, brushing her hair. He was tempted to go upstairs, take the brush from her and finish the task himself. He loved to feel her hair in his hands, and to inhale the rich, citrus scent of her shampoo. Just thinking about it, and wondering what she was wearing, made his dick swell and press against the sweatpants he had changed into earlier that evening.
He stifled a groan and shifted his body on the sofa, using every ounce of self-restraint to keep from sliding his hand inside his pants. He wanted his wife. He wanted to press his lips against the pulse in her throat and suck on her earlobes. He wanted to taste her warm skin as he laved her nipple with his tongue and feel her nails scratch lightly down his back. He wanted her hand to stroke his cock until he was near to bursting and listen to her sigh of contentment when he slid inside her.
He wanted Ginny.
He couldn’t believe that things had gotten to the point they were at. It had been his fear that had started the whole mess. James’ birth had not been easy, and amidst all of the pain and the blood that his wife had endured Harry had felt a horrible dread of ever putting her through that again. He had been terrified by the thought of losing her, and a part of him had decided that he couldn’t risk her getting pregnant again.
That had been seven months ago. Seven long, lonely, and horny months. By the time he had decided that his fears were groundless Ginny seemed perfectly fine and content with things. He had been convinced that she was scared of childbirth and unwilling to take the risks again, so he had left her alone.
But that needed to stop. Tonight. Not that he planned to restrain her on the bed and pound into her until they both passed out from the pleasure, but they were going to talk, and she was going to tell him what the hell was going on in that head of hers, because they both deserved better than what they were currently living with.
The ceiling creaked above his head again, and Harry knew that Ginny had slid into bed. She wouldn’t have the lights off for sleep right away; she’d be reading Quiddith Weekly and making mental notes for her next Daily Prophet article. With a sense of purpose and determination he turned off all of the downstairs lights, checked the locks on the doors, and then climbed the stairs to their bedroom.
He stopped in his tracks in the doorway. Ginny’s red hair gleamed in the soft light from the bedside lamp and her skin glowed against the deep forest green of her nightgown. He knew that nightgown. She had worn it on their honeymoon. For about one minute.
The blood that didn’t suffuse his face rushed to his groin, and his erection, which had been half-hearted before, surged to life. He must have made some sort of sound, either a groan or a half-whimper, because Ginny set down her magazine and met his eyes.
“Harry. . .”
“Ginny. . .”
“We need to talk.” They spoke simultaneously. Harry grinned and moved to the bed, sitting down with his back to the door so that he was facing Ginny. “You first,” he said.
A deep flush rose up Ginny’s chest and neck before spreading over her entire face. It was one thing to decide that a conversation was necessary, but to actually put the issue into words made Ginny cringe. But she plunged on.
“Why are we not having sex anymore, Harry?” she asked, surprised at her own bluntness.
Harry was taken aback. It was the very subject that he had wanted to discuss; he just hadn’t thought that Ginny would bring it up. He hadn’t even thought that she was bothered by the situation.
“I don’t know,” he replied with total honesty. “Why do you think?”
Ginny shrugged, but Harry could see past the pretend nonchalance. She was uncomfortable and embarrassed, and even a little bit. . .
He looked into her eyes and what he saw shocked him. She was actually scared.
“Ginny?” he asked softly, reaching out and resting a hand on her arm.
Tears were in her eyes. “Why don’t you want me anymore, Harry?”
“Not want. . .? Is that what you think?”
Ginny nodded. “What else could it be? I must have been so fat and ugly by the time James was born, and -“
“Fat and ugly?” Harry asked, his voice rising with surprise. “Ginny, the last thing in the world you are is ugly, believe me.” He took a deep breath before plunging ahead. “The truth is that I was so scared after James’ birth - scared that I would lose you - that I couldn’t even think about making love with you because I didn’t want to risk another pregnancy.” He shifted on the bed, moving closer to her, and stroked her cheek. “By the time I got over those irrational fears I thought you were happy with how things were.”
“Happy? Not a chance! But I thought that you didn’t find me desirable anymore, and I was afraid to ask because I didn’t want to hear that from you, and. . .”
Harry felt a lump in his throat. “Not find you desirable? Ginny. . .” He stopped talking and took her hand in his, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. “Does that feel like a man that doesn’t desire you?”
She smiled. “No, I have to admit it doesn’t.” She sat up and slid closer to him on the bed until their noses almost touched. “I guess the only remaining question is what do you intend to do with this,” she said, squeezing him gently.
Harry swore under his breath, quickly Summoned his wand and made his clothes vanish. In the blink of an eye there was no longer any cloth between Ginny’s hand and his straining erection. He sighed at the feel of her soft skin against him and brought his lips to hers. As they kissed he leaned into her, pushing her back against the pillows until she lay on the bed and with Harry half on top of her.
“I’ve missed you so much, Harry,” she said when he released her mouth to trail kisses down her neck. He made an inarticulate sound of agreement as he moved his mouth still lower, grazing his lips across the upper curve of her breasts. At the same time one of his hands was sliding up her leg under the silky material of her nightgown. The hand encountered no resistance; Ginny wasn’t wearing any knickers.
“Minx,” he growled against her skin. Ginny laughed and sank her fingers into Harry’s hair, pressing his face against her breast. He responded by flicking his tongue against one of her nipples through the nightgown, teasing her.
“Harry. . .” His name came out like a plea, and he answered it. His wand was nearby, so he picked it up and used it to make the nightgown vanish before tossing it away to the other side of the room. It shattered a small vase on one of the bookshelves, but neither of them heard it, being too lost in the sensation of his bare skin on hers.
When Harry took her nipple in his mouth Ginny’s hand closed spasmodically on his cock, making him groan. She started to stroke him in rhythm with the motion of his tongue
“Jesus, Gin. . .” Harry’s breath caught and his eyes drifted closed. He lay beside Ginny on his side, letting her hands work on him. With every stroke she dropped her fingers down to graze his balls, making him suck in his breath. She leaned into him and caught his lower lip between her teeth, tugging gently, before covering his mouth with hers and letting her tongue dance with his.
Without breaking the kiss Harry shifted their bodies again, laying Ginny on her back and tucking her in close against him. He slid a hand between her legs, tangling his fingers in the darker red curls at the apex of her thighs. She was warm and extremely wet; completely ready for him. He dipped a finger into her entrance; she sighed and pushed against him, lifting her hips into his touch. Her legs fell open and Harry felt intoxicated by her scent.
“Please. Harry.” Ginny’s breath was coming faster.
“Please what, Gin?” he asked, teasing her clit with his thumb.
“Put you mouth on me.”
Harry didn’t need her to ask twice. Coaxing her legs further apart he slid down her body, peppering her stomach with wet kisses as he went. His fingers didn’t stop their ministrations until he was able to replace them with his mouth and tongue.
Ginny moaned at the first stroke of his tongue on her folds. He hands balled into fists, clenched around the fabric of the bedspread. When he grazed her clit with his teeth she cried out, jerking her hips upward. He used his tongue to penetrate her repeatedly; each time she eagerly lifted her hips to him. He pushed her to the brink of orgasm before drawing back, kissing her so she could taste her own juices.
Ginny pushed against Harry until he lay flat on his back, running one hand as far as she could reach down the length of his body. On each upward stroke she grazed his straining cock, making it jump against her hand. She broke off the kiss with a mischievous grin before sliding down his body and taking him into her mouth.
“Jesus Christ!” he called out, jerkily pushing himself deeper into the warmth of her mouth. She sucked on him as she moved her mouth along his length until Harry thought his head would explode. He took hold of Ginny by the waist and lifted her so that she straddled him, her damp heat poised above his throbbing member. With a grin she positioned him at her slit and slid down on him, encompassing him in her silken walls. They both sighed in contentment as they came together.
Ginny didn’t wait very long before she began to move. At first it was just a simple grinding of her hips against his, a motion that rubbed her clit against him. Harry reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands, flicking his thumbs across her nipples. Ginny smiled and lifted herself, almost completely separating from him, before sinking back down on him. She did that several more times, moving faster each time. Harry lifted his hips with her, pushing against her downward strokes. He took one hand and began to rub her clit, making her moan and move faster. He knew she was on the verge of climax when the muscles of her thighs clenched around his hips. He thrust up into her one last time and she gasped, her interior muscles clutching his cock in spasms that rippled along his length.
Before her orgasm subsided her took hold of her hips and flipped the pair of them over, pinning her beneath him. He held most of his weight on his arms and began thrusting into her, harder and faster in response to her barely articulate pleas. He felt his own climax building; the tightening muscles in his abdomen gathering themselves for the last push.
“GOD!” Ginny cried out as she came again, her head thrown back against the pillows as pleasure tore through her. Her walls clenched around his cock, pushing him over the edge. With one last thrust Harry came, exploding inside her. He collapsed against her, waiting for his breathing to return to normal.
He didn’t know how much later it was before he slid off of Ginny and lay on his stomach beside her. He turned his head to look at her sweat-sheened face.
“Holy shit,” he said.
Ginny laughed. “I gotta hand it to you Potter. You really know how to make up for lost time.” She rolled onto her side and lay a hand on his back. “Remind me again why we stopped doing this?”
“Damned if I know.”