FIC: "The Waiting Game" for gamma_x_orionis
Recipient: gamma_x_orionis
Author/Artist: ???
Title: The Waiting Game
Rating: R
Pairings: Dudley/Pansy
Word Count: 2561
Warnings/Content Information (Highlight to View): *Piercings, a spank or two and an instance of genital slapping*.
Summary: Dudley isn't Pansy's perfect man by any stretch of the imagination--he's a Muggle for Merlin's sake--but their encounters are what's keeping her going from one week to the next.
Author's/Artist's Notes: I hope you like this, gamma_x_orionis ! Thank you to my beta, Y, who was a fantastic help.
The "T" in the neon light above flickers, emitting a rather irritating sound. It's not meant to be perfect or high class, though, so that's okay. The club isn't trying to hide what it is or who it caters for, unlike the lady in red walking towards it.
Her name is Pansy Parkinson, and she is trying to hide who and what she is. To everyone else walking down the street and visiting the same club, she's just another Muggle wanting a good time. To the owner and herself, she's a disgraced witch with nothing to lose. It's why she comes here, when she knows he doesn't really have that much of a thing for her anyway.
He goes by the name Dudley Dursley, and he likes to keep Pansy around for one reason and one reason only: that Harry Potter hates her. Dudley's on more amicable terms with his cousin now than he ever was before, but that doesn't stop Dudley wanting one over on him. Harry doesn't even know Dudley has any connection to Pansy, and he probably wouldn't even care, but having Pansy like that makes Dudley feel good.
Pansy knows this because Dudley tells her. He tells her while he fucks her, and ashamedly, she gets turned on by it. She loves to be used, abused and thrown back out onto the street to re-evaluate her life. The rush she gets when Dudley dismisses her after a good, hard fucking is what brings her back the next time, and the time after that.
It's got to be, oh, six months she's been coming here now? The first time Pansy only came to drown her sorrows, not wanting shedloads of witches and wizards giving her a hard time for trying to give Harry to the Dark Lord. She couldn't get a moment's peace in the wizarding world nowadays. She knows it'll die down eventually, but for now, she's content to spend her weekends with a man who'll get some use out of her at least.
"Looking good tonight, love," Tom, the bouncer, says to her as she bypasses the queue. It's one of the perks of being Dudley's latest squeeze--oh yes, she's aware she's one in a long line of many--along with free drinks and entry. She ignores Tom as she enters, heading straight to the bar to have a couple of shots before she goes to see Dudley. She's got five minutes, though it almost takes that long to push herself to the front.
"Two vodka shots, please," Pansy calls to the barman nearest her. He serves up the shots immediately and sets them down in front of her. Pansy takes a deep breath and downs one, then the other. They're strong, but they give her the energy she needs to climb the stairs and enter the room at the very back of the club. The door is locked behind her, and Pansy makes her way through Dudley's private chambers until she arrives at his bedroom. She knocks, but it's quiet and Dudley mustn't have heard it, so she tries again, louder this time.
"Enter," Dudley calls in his gruff voice. She does so, and finds him strewn across his bed, looking a little annoyed. He smiles when his face meets hers, though. "Well, haven't you pulled out all the stops tonight." Dudley sits up and looks her up and down, his smile growing.
"Thanks." Pansy smiles back, though she can't say the same for him. He hasn't bothered at all. He's wearing his infamous leopard print dressing gown, and though Pansy can't tell, she guesses there's nothing on underneath it. He doesn't even look like he's had a shave in days. "Are you all right?" They usually don't talk about their problems and feelings, preferring to bury their heads in the sand while they enjoy each other, but Dudley's hardly masking the fact that something is up.
"Fine." Dudley stands and waves away her concerns. The dressing gown parts slightly as he walks towards her and her suspicions are confirmed. He's got an erection already, but that's hardly news. One look in Pansy's direction gives most men hard ons they struggle to shake. It's part of her charm. "I'd say I hate to spoil your effort, but unwrapping the parcel is half the fun."
"That's why I bother." Pansy turns around and allows Dudley to unzip her dress. He isn't delicate by any means, but any tears and she can fix them by magic later. Now is not a time to be worrying about her clothes, even if she did design this dress herself. Once it's unzipped all the way to the small of her back, she faces him again, and he slips the straps of her dress down her arms. His hands feel huge upon her tiny shoulders and it makes her feel safe.
Dudley takes a few steps back, admiring her form. "Show me your tits."
Pansy blushes, regardless of the fact that Dudley's seen her breasts many times before. His crude language humiliates her, but it's what gets her juices flowing. She looks at the floor as she follows his command, pulling her arms out of the straps of her dress and then pushing her dress down to her hips. She's wearing a lovely matching black and pink lingerie set, but Dudley wants her bra off now, so he won't get to see her latest purchase together. He probably wouldn't appreciate it anyway, Pansy thinks as she unhooks the clasp. She allows the garment to fall carefully to the floor and places her hands awkwardly at her sides.
"New jewellery?" Dudley asks, indicating her nipples. She nods. She'd bought new nipple rings yesterday for just this occasion; they're pure gold with a little pink jewel in the middle. "It looks good."
"I know," Pansy says with a smirk.
"Get on the bed, hands and knees," Dudley orders, and with Pansy's arousal growing, she can hardly say no. She needs him, just like he needs her. It's only for half an hour at the most, but that half an hour is always the perfect end to what's probably been a bad week. It's not been great for Pansy, she knows that. By Dudley's mood, he hasn't been in high spirits either. She looks behind her as she climbs onto the satin sheets and watches Dudley throw his dressing gown to the floor.
Dudley has a lot of body hair for a man so young, but Pansy kind of likes it. Dudley doesn't use any special products on his hair or body, just your average supermarket brand. Pansy had been horrified the first time she'd tried to use his shower to find this out, and had to settle for a few cleaning spells instead. Now she always brings her own shampoo and conditioner, just in case their session is messy enough to warrant an immediate shower. Most of the time she prefers to wait until she gets home; she's a woman who likes her home comforts.
"Even through your dress your arse is sexy," Dudley says as he places his huge hands upon the cheeks of her bottom. He rubs them round and round in circles, then brings one back and spanks her hard. The pain is welcome and she moans slightly, spurring Dudley on to do it again. He's too horny for much foreplay though, always has been. He doesn't have much patience and prefers to get straight to it. Most of her lovers have been like that. If Pansy were being honest, she'd probably say it was selfish, but the sex they do have is great and she never needs foreplay anyway. She's always dripping wet by the time he wants to fuck her. He grabs her dress and pushes it up so it's bunched up around her waist.
Pansy wiggles her arse for him. "Like what you see?"
"Fuck yes." Dudley bends down to grab at her knickers with his teeth, pulling them down to her knees. It takes him a moment or so and the fabric gets stuck a couple of times, but he gets there eventually. "Your knickers are wet. Are you aroused for me, dirty girl?"
Pansy nods and bends down to lay her head on the bed. She faces away from him, blushing. She loves being his 'dirty girl', but it doesn't half embarrass her.
"Say you're wet for me."
"I..." Pansy can sense his fingers are so close to her pussy, but he's holding off touching her until she repeats his words. She clears her throat and closes her eyes, but she says them. "I'm wet for you."
"Louder."
"I'm wet for you!" It's louder, but more rushed too. It's enough for Dudley, though, and he plunges a finger straight into her snatch. She never needs any preparation there and she's a little dejected he's only used one finger. He usually begins with two at least. "More..." She says quietly when he doesn't add another. "Please, more."
Dudley snorts and adds two more fingers. "Ahh, my dirty little girl. So wet and wanton for me. I bet you've been playing with yourself all week thinking about me, haven't you?" He's right, but she doesn't respond to his question. "That's a yes then." Pansy wiggles her arse again, wanting more, wanting to feel oh so full, and groans loudly in frustration when Dudley pulls all his fingers out instead. "No!" He chides her for attempting to control him, then slaps her pussy to show her her place. It stings and she yelps slightly, but Dudley does it again and she becomes wetter still. "Are you ready for me?"
"Yes!" Pansy bites her lip in preparation. Dudley places a large hand on the small of her back and she feels his cock at her entrance, teasing her. She doesn't dare wiggle though, not after last time. She waits patiently, screwing her eyes shut in anticipation. When he finally plunges forward, her head shoots up, her eyes open and she moans in pleasure. It's exactly what she needs, what she's been waiting for all week. Dudley's cock isn't the longest she's ever had, but it's definitely the thickest. It gives her the fullness she craves.
"Still so tight... after all this time..." Dudley murmurs, and Pansy looks towards the bed. She knows why that is, but Dudley can't ever find out. She always places a spell upon herself to ensure her tightness before she sleeps with anyone, but Dudley hates magic, demands she leave her wand at home when she visits. If she were to admit she was tight because of that, he'd no doubt have a fit like the time she used those cleaning spells. Thankfully, it seems he's too 'in the moment' to make the connection, so she stops worrying and begins to enjoy herself again.
Pansy doesn't care if anyone can hear her; she's always been loud in the bedroom and she's not going to stop now. She moans and groans for all she's worth, while Dudley grunts in the background. He places another hand on her back and they both move to her hips, guiding her into him. She tilts her head back as his fingers dig into her skin, his nails scraping her and leaving abrasions. She likes those, sees them as her own little trophies after a glorious night. In the days that follow, she often fucks herself in front of the mirror, so she can see the marks he's left on her. Scratches, bruises, whatever they are, they turn her right on and bring the entire night back to her again.
"God," Dudley says a little louder than normal, and Pansy can tell he's coming close now. He always repeats that word before and during his orgasm, and Pansy still has no clue what it means. It's probably some random Muggle word, but by the time they've finished, she never remembers to ask him. She wants to match his pace, so she places a finger on her clit and rubs herself to the edge. Her clit has always been extremely sensitive, so she has to be careful not to finish before Dudley. He likes them to finish simultaneously, though that's not always possible. He usually doesn't notice if she's a fraction before or after, though. "Good God, Pansy. Oh God!"
There's that word again, and Dudley puts so much heat and emotion into it that she feels like shouting it herself sometimes. Dudley's nails dig into her skin with abandon now and he ups his pace, so Pansy rubs her clit faster. She feels his balls tighten as they slap against her, and tumbles over the edge just a fraction of a second before he does. The noise she's making is probably enough to alert the whole club to what they're doing, but she finds a sense of satisfaction in that and has a comeback ready for anyone who challenges her. Her left hand tightens in the silk duvet as her other strums her clit and rides out her orgasm, and when she's finally spent, she's left panting and catching her breath.
"God, that was good," Dudley says in almost a whisper as he pulls out of her. She lies down on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, and in her peripheral vision she can see him putting on his hideous leopard print dressing gown again. She knows he'll want her out soon, but she always likes a moment to collect her thoughts and takes it while he nips to the en-suite.
By the time he comes out, she's already getting dressed. She's cleaned herself up as best she can with some tissues, and she'll have a shower as soon as she gets home. She doesn't particularly like feeling sticky, but she's not as messy as she could be so she can wait until she gets home. She checks her hair in the mirror and runs her fingers through it--she's forgotten her brush--then makes sure she looks nearly as good as she did when she entered about half an hour ago.
"Bye, then," Pansy says, grabbing her stuff, and Dudley makes a grunt in her general direction. He's already found himself something else to do, reading some Muggle magazine about cars, looks like. She doesn't need to make a time for next week; they both know she'll be there and he'll be in, waiting for her. He doesn't care about her, she knows that, and that's okay. She wouldn't want a proper relationship with a Muggle anyhow, even if they are aware of the wizarding world. Especially not one as gruff as Dudley.
It's just a matter of playing the waiting game. Waiting until she's no longer shunned in the street. Waiting until her friends and their families are out of Azkaban. Waiting until everyone's forgotten what she did and she can move on with her life. What she did wasn't that bad, and she knows they can't blame her forever.
So while she waits, she'll have her fun, and enjoy it more than she probably should. Dudley will do for now, and in forty or fifty years, she'll look back and wonder what on earth she was thinking. "It was good while it lasted," she'll say to herself, while she remembers each and every sordid little encounter with a smile.
Click here to leave a comment
Author/Artist: ???
Title: The Waiting Game
Rating: R
Pairings: Dudley/Pansy
Word Count: 2561
Warnings/Content Information (Highlight to View): *Piercings, a spank or two and an instance of genital slapping*.
Summary: Dudley isn't Pansy's perfect man by any stretch of the imagination--he's a Muggle for Merlin's sake--but their encounters are what's keeping her going from one week to the next.
Author's/Artist's Notes: I hope you like this, gamma_x_orionis ! Thank you to my beta, Y, who was a fantastic help.
The "T" in the neon light above flickers, emitting a rather irritating sound. It's not meant to be perfect or high class, though, so that's okay. The club isn't trying to hide what it is or who it caters for, unlike the lady in red walking towards it.
Her name is Pansy Parkinson, and she is trying to hide who and what she is. To everyone else walking down the street and visiting the same club, she's just another Muggle wanting a good time. To the owner and herself, she's a disgraced witch with nothing to lose. It's why she comes here, when she knows he doesn't really have that much of a thing for her anyway.
He goes by the name Dudley Dursley, and he likes to keep Pansy around for one reason and one reason only: that Harry Potter hates her. Dudley's on more amicable terms with his cousin now than he ever was before, but that doesn't stop Dudley wanting one over on him. Harry doesn't even know Dudley has any connection to Pansy, and he probably wouldn't even care, but having Pansy like that makes Dudley feel good.
Pansy knows this because Dudley tells her. He tells her while he fucks her, and ashamedly, she gets turned on by it. She loves to be used, abused and thrown back out onto the street to re-evaluate her life. The rush she gets when Dudley dismisses her after a good, hard fucking is what brings her back the next time, and the time after that.
It's got to be, oh, six months she's been coming here now? The first time Pansy only came to drown her sorrows, not wanting shedloads of witches and wizards giving her a hard time for trying to give Harry to the Dark Lord. She couldn't get a moment's peace in the wizarding world nowadays. She knows it'll die down eventually, but for now, she's content to spend her weekends with a man who'll get some use out of her at least.
"Looking good tonight, love," Tom, the bouncer, says to her as she bypasses the queue. It's one of the perks of being Dudley's latest squeeze--oh yes, she's aware she's one in a long line of many--along with free drinks and entry. She ignores Tom as she enters, heading straight to the bar to have a couple of shots before she goes to see Dudley. She's got five minutes, though it almost takes that long to push herself to the front.
"Two vodka shots, please," Pansy calls to the barman nearest her. He serves up the shots immediately and sets them down in front of her. Pansy takes a deep breath and downs one, then the other. They're strong, but they give her the energy she needs to climb the stairs and enter the room at the very back of the club. The door is locked behind her, and Pansy makes her way through Dudley's private chambers until she arrives at his bedroom. She knocks, but it's quiet and Dudley mustn't have heard it, so she tries again, louder this time.
"Enter," Dudley calls in his gruff voice. She does so, and finds him strewn across his bed, looking a little annoyed. He smiles when his face meets hers, though. "Well, haven't you pulled out all the stops tonight." Dudley sits up and looks her up and down, his smile growing.
"Thanks." Pansy smiles back, though she can't say the same for him. He hasn't bothered at all. He's wearing his infamous leopard print dressing gown, and though Pansy can't tell, she guesses there's nothing on underneath it. He doesn't even look like he's had a shave in days. "Are you all right?" They usually don't talk about their problems and feelings, preferring to bury their heads in the sand while they enjoy each other, but Dudley's hardly masking the fact that something is up.
"Fine." Dudley stands and waves away her concerns. The dressing gown parts slightly as he walks towards her and her suspicions are confirmed. He's got an erection already, but that's hardly news. One look in Pansy's direction gives most men hard ons they struggle to shake. It's part of her charm. "I'd say I hate to spoil your effort, but unwrapping the parcel is half the fun."
"That's why I bother." Pansy turns around and allows Dudley to unzip her dress. He isn't delicate by any means, but any tears and she can fix them by magic later. Now is not a time to be worrying about her clothes, even if she did design this dress herself. Once it's unzipped all the way to the small of her back, she faces him again, and he slips the straps of her dress down her arms. His hands feel huge upon her tiny shoulders and it makes her feel safe.
Dudley takes a few steps back, admiring her form. "Show me your tits."
Pansy blushes, regardless of the fact that Dudley's seen her breasts many times before. His crude language humiliates her, but it's what gets her juices flowing. She looks at the floor as she follows his command, pulling her arms out of the straps of her dress and then pushing her dress down to her hips. She's wearing a lovely matching black and pink lingerie set, but Dudley wants her bra off now, so he won't get to see her latest purchase together. He probably wouldn't appreciate it anyway, Pansy thinks as she unhooks the clasp. She allows the garment to fall carefully to the floor and places her hands awkwardly at her sides.
"New jewellery?" Dudley asks, indicating her nipples. She nods. She'd bought new nipple rings yesterday for just this occasion; they're pure gold with a little pink jewel in the middle. "It looks good."
"I know," Pansy says with a smirk.
"Get on the bed, hands and knees," Dudley orders, and with Pansy's arousal growing, she can hardly say no. She needs him, just like he needs her. It's only for half an hour at the most, but that half an hour is always the perfect end to what's probably been a bad week. It's not been great for Pansy, she knows that. By Dudley's mood, he hasn't been in high spirits either. She looks behind her as she climbs onto the satin sheets and watches Dudley throw his dressing gown to the floor.
Dudley has a lot of body hair for a man so young, but Pansy kind of likes it. Dudley doesn't use any special products on his hair or body, just your average supermarket brand. Pansy had been horrified the first time she'd tried to use his shower to find this out, and had to settle for a few cleaning spells instead. Now she always brings her own shampoo and conditioner, just in case their session is messy enough to warrant an immediate shower. Most of the time she prefers to wait until she gets home; she's a woman who likes her home comforts.
"Even through your dress your arse is sexy," Dudley says as he places his huge hands upon the cheeks of her bottom. He rubs them round and round in circles, then brings one back and spanks her hard. The pain is welcome and she moans slightly, spurring Dudley on to do it again. He's too horny for much foreplay though, always has been. He doesn't have much patience and prefers to get straight to it. Most of her lovers have been like that. If Pansy were being honest, she'd probably say it was selfish, but the sex they do have is great and she never needs foreplay anyway. She's always dripping wet by the time he wants to fuck her. He grabs her dress and pushes it up so it's bunched up around her waist.
Pansy wiggles her arse for him. "Like what you see?"
"Fuck yes." Dudley bends down to grab at her knickers with his teeth, pulling them down to her knees. It takes him a moment or so and the fabric gets stuck a couple of times, but he gets there eventually. "Your knickers are wet. Are you aroused for me, dirty girl?"
Pansy nods and bends down to lay her head on the bed. She faces away from him, blushing. She loves being his 'dirty girl', but it doesn't half embarrass her.
"Say you're wet for me."
"I..." Pansy can sense his fingers are so close to her pussy, but he's holding off touching her until she repeats his words. She clears her throat and closes her eyes, but she says them. "I'm wet for you."
"Louder."
"I'm wet for you!" It's louder, but more rushed too. It's enough for Dudley, though, and he plunges a finger straight into her snatch. She never needs any preparation there and she's a little dejected he's only used one finger. He usually begins with two at least. "More..." She says quietly when he doesn't add another. "Please, more."
Dudley snorts and adds two more fingers. "Ahh, my dirty little girl. So wet and wanton for me. I bet you've been playing with yourself all week thinking about me, haven't you?" He's right, but she doesn't respond to his question. "That's a yes then." Pansy wiggles her arse again, wanting more, wanting to feel oh so full, and groans loudly in frustration when Dudley pulls all his fingers out instead. "No!" He chides her for attempting to control him, then slaps her pussy to show her her place. It stings and she yelps slightly, but Dudley does it again and she becomes wetter still. "Are you ready for me?"
"Yes!" Pansy bites her lip in preparation. Dudley places a large hand on the small of her back and she feels his cock at her entrance, teasing her. She doesn't dare wiggle though, not after last time. She waits patiently, screwing her eyes shut in anticipation. When he finally plunges forward, her head shoots up, her eyes open and she moans in pleasure. It's exactly what she needs, what she's been waiting for all week. Dudley's cock isn't the longest she's ever had, but it's definitely the thickest. It gives her the fullness she craves.
"Still so tight... after all this time..." Dudley murmurs, and Pansy looks towards the bed. She knows why that is, but Dudley can't ever find out. She always places a spell upon herself to ensure her tightness before she sleeps with anyone, but Dudley hates magic, demands she leave her wand at home when she visits. If she were to admit she was tight because of that, he'd no doubt have a fit like the time she used those cleaning spells. Thankfully, it seems he's too 'in the moment' to make the connection, so she stops worrying and begins to enjoy herself again.
Pansy doesn't care if anyone can hear her; she's always been loud in the bedroom and she's not going to stop now. She moans and groans for all she's worth, while Dudley grunts in the background. He places another hand on her back and they both move to her hips, guiding her into him. She tilts her head back as his fingers dig into her skin, his nails scraping her and leaving abrasions. She likes those, sees them as her own little trophies after a glorious night. In the days that follow, she often fucks herself in front of the mirror, so she can see the marks he's left on her. Scratches, bruises, whatever they are, they turn her right on and bring the entire night back to her again.
"God," Dudley says a little louder than normal, and Pansy can tell he's coming close now. He always repeats that word before and during his orgasm, and Pansy still has no clue what it means. It's probably some random Muggle word, but by the time they've finished, she never remembers to ask him. She wants to match his pace, so she places a finger on her clit and rubs herself to the edge. Her clit has always been extremely sensitive, so she has to be careful not to finish before Dudley. He likes them to finish simultaneously, though that's not always possible. He usually doesn't notice if she's a fraction before or after, though. "Good God, Pansy. Oh God!"
There's that word again, and Dudley puts so much heat and emotion into it that she feels like shouting it herself sometimes. Dudley's nails dig into her skin with abandon now and he ups his pace, so Pansy rubs her clit faster. She feels his balls tighten as they slap against her, and tumbles over the edge just a fraction of a second before he does. The noise she's making is probably enough to alert the whole club to what they're doing, but she finds a sense of satisfaction in that and has a comeback ready for anyone who challenges her. Her left hand tightens in the silk duvet as her other strums her clit and rides out her orgasm, and when she's finally spent, she's left panting and catching her breath.
"God, that was good," Dudley says in almost a whisper as he pulls out of her. She lies down on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, and in her peripheral vision she can see him putting on his hideous leopard print dressing gown again. She knows he'll want her out soon, but she always likes a moment to collect her thoughts and takes it while he nips to the en-suite.
By the time he comes out, she's already getting dressed. She's cleaned herself up as best she can with some tissues, and she'll have a shower as soon as she gets home. She doesn't particularly like feeling sticky, but she's not as messy as she could be so she can wait until she gets home. She checks her hair in the mirror and runs her fingers through it--she's forgotten her brush--then makes sure she looks nearly as good as she did when she entered about half an hour ago.
"Bye, then," Pansy says, grabbing her stuff, and Dudley makes a grunt in her general direction. He's already found himself something else to do, reading some Muggle magazine about cars, looks like. She doesn't need to make a time for next week; they both know she'll be there and he'll be in, waiting for her. He doesn't care about her, she knows that, and that's okay. She wouldn't want a proper relationship with a Muggle anyhow, even if they are aware of the wizarding world. Especially not one as gruff as Dudley.
It's just a matter of playing the waiting game. Waiting until she's no longer shunned in the street. Waiting until her friends and their families are out of Azkaban. Waiting until everyone's forgotten what she did and she can move on with her life. What she did wasn't that bad, and she knows they can't blame her forever.
So while she waits, she'll have her fun, and enjoy it more than she probably should. Dudley will do for now, and in forty or fifty years, she'll look back and wonder what on earth she was thinking. "It was good while it lasted," she'll say to herself, while she remembers each and every sordid little encounter with a smile.
Click here to leave a comment