Let the Porn Battle begin!
Sorry this took so long, but there were more responses than I expected (which isn't a bad thing)! Thank you so much for participating and pimping.
RULES: PLEASE READ CAREFULLY BEFORE POSTING.1. Pick a prompt and write the porniest thing you can based on it. With plot, PWP, angst...whatever you wish ( Read more... )
RULES: PLEASE READ CAREFULLY BEFORE POSTING.1. Pick a prompt and write the porniest thing you can based on it. With plot, PWP, angst...whatever you wish ( Read more... )
There are a number of servers walking amongst the guests with canapés and drinks, but Ginny walks towards one specific woman, one with hair as black as the night, cut short, and head held high, more disdain than elegance. There is something familiar about her, though Ginny is too distracted by the woman’s body. She is wearing a black dress, like all the others, but unlike all the others, her dress is short, almost indecently so, and tight, clinging deliciously to the woman’s curves and hugging her slender hips.
“Excuse me,” Ginny says, and it is only when the woman turns and Ginny gets her first clear view of her features, the full lips, slightly upturned nose and a set to her jaw that is entirely new, that she recognises her.
“Weasley?” Pansy Parkinson sounds annoyed, but not in the detached way of all the others, her eyes are flashing with anger which is personal and directed at Ginny.
“It’s still Potter,” Ginny says instead. She takes a glass of wine and inclines he head in a greeting that would seem polite if not for the challenge reflected in her grin, the quirk of an eyebrow.
Pansy looks momentarily startled and then she laughs.
“Congratulations,” Pansy says, but her anger seems to be gone, her stance a fraction more relaxed.
“I was thinking…” Ginny begins, only to be cut off by an elderly wizard’s demand for a drink.
“I
am working,” Pansy reminds her, but the familiarity of her grin is telling another story.
It has been years, too many to count, but there are some things that are forever imprinted in your senses, and though the unused fourth floor Hogwarts classroom is now replaced with the back of a cloakroom at a ministry party, one girl’s diamonds are replaced with cubic zirconium, and another girl is wearing a foreign name, in the darkness, the years melt away and they are blushing and sixteen again.
“Nice dress,” Ginny says, mouth tracing down the hollow of Pansy’s throat.
Fingers slide down familiar curves, relearning the sounds caused by the biting of a nipple, the scrape of nails down a side, the bruise of a kiss.
Ginny shivers, her body arching at the intrusion of a slick finger between her legs, a touch at once familiar and deft unlike before.
She pushes herself against Pansy’s hand, craving more contact and Pansy moves back, her teeth shining in the dim light coming from the party.
“Naughty, naughty Mrs Potter,” her voice is high and mocking, but Pansy’s hand is still circling Ginny's clit and Ginny trembles against her, grateful for the softness of the foreign cloaks.
She is no loner an inexperienced child, willing to do anything for Pansy’s hands, she can see that Pansy is no less turned on and slides her hand underneath the dress that has been driving her crazy with its tightness, the material is soft to touch, and her fingers immediately brush hot slickness and no underwear.
Pansy clenches against her and Ginny fucks her slowly, relishing the regained control.
Afterward, Ginny watches Pansy's attempts to hide all traces of their encounter, spells her dress smooth, reapplies lipstick and fixes her hair, until she looks as cold and put together as ever.
"I'll clean up here, you go back," she says to Pansy, gesturing to their bed of expensive cloaks. She doesn't though, she is doing their owners a favour, the faint smell of sex is probably the closest they'll get to such satisfaction.
She feels giddy, as she closes the door behind her, disapparates with a toss of her hair.
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“It’s still Potter,”
That sent shivers of anticipation down my spine... And then satisfaction...
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