Humpfest 2011: Magic Tastes Like Tears
Title: Magic Tastes like Tears
Author: Kerplankia
Characters: Dudley/Tonks
Prompts: First time, safe house, Daydream Charm
Word Count: 3500
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Some plot, first time
Summary: Dudley hates the quiet of the safe house and how it is tearing his family apart. Magic is to blame. But magic is also to blame for what happens next..
Disclaimer: Not mine! If it was, my life would be a little more exciting.
Author’s Notes: First fic in a looooong time. Thanks to K for the beta! And thanks to the mods for being so patient with me.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Dudley sighed, breaking the stillness in the house. He did not like this supposed safe house. They had been there for only 3 days and already it was too quiet, filled with a nervous energy that was only broken by his father's low, angry muttering. Vernon did not let his voice grow loud in this house, afraid to be magicked by the strange wizards that kept them there. Diggles was the one with the bowler hat and the odd name, who never sat still. At least the woman wizard had a bit less of a freakish name. Hestia sounded almost normal compared to Diggles.
His mum was humming off-key in the kitchen, trying to cook supper while her hands gently shook, still unsure of herself in this new kitchen where none of the pots and pans are where they are supposed to be. The salt was supposed to be on this counter, not that one, and the pantry should be to the left of the sink, not next to the entry door. Petunia never did like change, especially when it broke the normalcy that defines her life.
His father sat on the couch staring at the empty space where a television set should be, but was not. Hestia and that wizard left them to their own devices for the afternoon, and without their constant chatter in the background, the house seemed to shrink even more into the quiet.
Dudley sighed again. His father did not break his stare at the wall, nor did his mum stop her nervous humming. He tried again to slip some noise into the wall of quiet, clearing his voice loudly. His father visibly startled, his bulk shifting as quickly as it can, and his neck wobbled as he turned his head to glare at the disturbance.
“Now see here! I am trying to have a nice afternoon without those..those...those people here. Keep it down, will you?”
Vernon huffed as he said this, spittle spraying a little, landing in beads on his moustache. Satisfied in the knowledge that Dudley would listen, he turned his head back to the empty wall that held the imaginary telly. Petunia did not stop her humming.
Dudley recoiled. Never had his father been peeved at him; it was always Harry who received the brunt of it. This safehouse had changed them all.
Finally realizing that nothing would be gained by staying here, he slowly got up from the chair that he had sat in for long enough to have left a permanent indent outlining the edges of his buttocks. Standing, he paused, unsure of where to go.
Going outside would mean that he would have to admit his unfamiliarity with the area; thinking on it, he realized that he had no idea of where they are or if it was safe to even leave the house. Hestia had said something about staying safe, and what he had to do to stay so, but he had been distracted by the growl of his stomach, and the hard ache in his throat that may had have something to do with finding out that Harry was not staying with them. Dudley stopped that train of thought; he did not want to think of Harry.
Still standing, awkwardly posed above his chair, a hand resting on the arm, fingers gripping a bit too tight, Dudley decided to head to his room, the only private space he had in this house.
Walking past his father was like walking past a stone statue. Vernon's eyes did not shift from the wall and the rest of his body followed his eyes' example. Dudley passed the entrance to the kitchen on the way to the stairwell. Hearing nothing from the kitchen, he paused at the doorway.
Peering in, he saw his mum with her head resting against the cupboards over the counter, her hands braced against the counter. Her elbows made sharp angles, the tendons straining as she pushed hard against the countertop lost in some thought. Dudley took a quick step back; this was not his mum.
Angry now, though at exactly what he was unsure, he was near to stomping as he turned the corner and walked heavily up the stairs. His room was at the end of the short hall and nowhere near as large as he was used to. This did not matter at the moment even though it had bothered him every other time he had entered the room. Opening the door just enough to let him in, he slammed it shut, wishing that he could lock it. A sharp “Oi!” is heard from the first floor, but he ignored it.
Dudley is angry, and growing angrier. Before all of this mess, life was normal. His mum and father loved him, praised him, and attended to his every need. Now, his father stared blankly at something that was not there, and his mum was lost in thoughts that Dudley was not privy to.
Plopping himself down on his bed, he heard a loud twang as the bed sank under his weight. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he reached for the one thing that would take his mind off of things. He fished in the topmost drawer in the night stand to the left of his bed. The usual filled the drawer; chewing gum, a half eaten bag of crisps, pens that have run out of ink, and an almost empty bottle of lube thoughtfully placed next to a porno magazine. These two things were some of the first that he packed when he found out that they were to leave the only house he had ever known.
Settling back against the headboard, he swung his legs onto the mattress while moving the blankets aside to make room for his legs to spread a bit. Opening the magazine, he thumbed through to a page that had been gazed at in rapt attention many times before.
The woman featured on this page was nothing special, but that was why he liked her. Her breasts were smallish, her shoulders were a bit too broad and her hair cut fairly short. Yet to Dudley, she was perfect. A beautiful, big breasted woman with a tiny waist and endless legs would never go for someone like him. This average girl who made her way into the mag was the kind of girl he might actually have a chance with.
She was naked, like all of the girls featured here, and lying on an old fashioned divan, legs opened wide, with a hand lying at the junction of her hip and leg. She appeared to be looking straight at Dudley as if she was aware of his stare.
Dudley was already half-hard from looking at her. He reached down to unzip his trousers when the forgotten bottle of lube was knocked off the edge of the bed onto the floor by his elbow. Swearing quietly under his breath, he looked down at the floor, but could not see it. Leaning over the side of his bed, he began to feel around for the bottle. His arm outstretched, he felt under the bed, grimacing at the feeling of a heavy layer of dust.
Feeling the edge of something hard he reached a little further, his arm awkwardly bent and rubbing the edge of the filthy floor. His hands finally closed around the object. Frustration finally starting to fade, he almost smiled as he brought the lube back from under the bed. But as soon as his eyes set on what his hand was gripping so tightly, the smile quickly disappeared.
This was not his bottle of lube. In fact, he had never seen something like this. It looked similar to an eye drop bottle, like his mum used to buy whenever he had conjunctivitis. Except that the ones his mum bought never had moving, flashing words and images circling the bottle. Words like Daydream! and Fantasy! spiralled quickly around the bottle. Words were replaced with images of smirking, smiling faces of beautiful women, of strong jaws and winks from manly men, and a sea of serene blue and sandy beaches.
The bottle itself was not too large, and held a clear liquid that bubbled and shook and Dudley believed that he could even see little images forming in the liquid. His porn mag forgotten, he just stared at this bottle, holding it up close to his face. At first he thought that maybe this was a new technology, but no; if there were advertisement schemes like this he would have seen them before. This was different. This was magic.
A cacophony of noises came from downstairs distracting Dudley for a moment. A loud wail sounded over what seemed to be pots and pans falling. He sighed and the earlier anger that had dissipated when he had entered his bedroom began to return again. He was about to throw the strange bottle aside, when he noticed that a new set of words had circled around the bottle, slowing coming to a stop in front of his gaze.
Wishes and dreams can come true!
Place one drop in each eye,
And your fantasy will play before
Your very own eyes!
Smaller writing appeared below these four lines, warning about overuse, and that fantasy did not equal reality (at least not after the drops expired). Dudley could not believe what he was seeing. A way to fantasize that would involve more than just his own imagination? He shook his head at the absurdity of his desire to use something that was responsible for him trying to wank and forget in the first place, he tried to roll the bottle back under the bed. Before he could, new words formed.
Try it...You will not regret it!!
Dudley stopped again. Oh, what the hell. He might as well give it a chance. There was nothing else for him to do in this house.
Carefully unscrewing the top, he stared at the bottle in his hand a little unsure if he did want to go through with this. Sighing to himself, he leaned his head back and put one drop in each eye, blinking quickly at the feeling of the liquid pooling in his eyes and sat back waiting for the proposed effects to begin.
Nothing happened. Dudley looked around his room, waiting for a magical fantasy to begin. Yet nothing happened. This was just like magic. It hurts and it disappoints. Just look at his mum; since the move to the safe house, she had broken into tiny pieces like the three shattered glasses she had dropped the day before.
Sighing another sigh, Dudley gave up his dream of a peaceful afternoon wank. He reached forward to grab his porn mag and to return it back into his night stand when someone gave a loud knock on his door. Startled, he quickly shoved the still-open magazine under his covers, praying that it was not his mother that has come to “check on her poor little Dudders”.
Someone knocked once more in quick, short knocks. “Yes?” he called out, hoping that the person who was on the other side of the door would just disappear.
The door opened and Dudley saw that it was not his mum on the other side of the door. It was that wizard, the one who had stopped by the day before with the hair that flashed different colours. She (Tok? Donks?) with her ability to change how she looked had been the reason that Petunia had dropped the glasses, shocked at the appearance of a pig's snout on the wizard's face.
The woman just stood in his doorway, staring at him. Her name came back to him like a splash of colour in his mind. Tonks.
He cleared his throat, and said with a frown that was evident in his voice, “Well yes? What do you want?”
Tonks stepped into Dudley's room and closed the door behind her. She did not stop staring straight at him and her silent stare began to unnerve him. He began his own stare, turning it evaluative. Her hair today was a deep purple and quite short, much like the skirt that she paired with a faded t-shirt that had an unfamiliar word scribbled across the front.
The silence in the room became heavy, and Dudley would later swear that it became so quiet that he could hear the blood in his veins, rushing away from his head and straight downwards as he stared more and more at the length of leg that was standing in front of him. Later, he would say that he was unsure of what happened next, but that to him it seemed like in one moment she went from standing near the doorway, to sitting next to him on the bed.
Later, he would tell no one but himself of how she leaned over, whispered his name softly and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Later, he would not say that he took one of his large, meaty hands to grab her behind the neck and pull her close for a long kiss that tasted like magic (tears). Her lips were not as soft as Martha's, who had lived two doors down, nor were they as large and plump as Fiona's, who lived near the park, but this was the best kiss he ever had.
Magic seemed to hum in his bones, making a song so sad and sweet that it made his heart ache, his mouth moving slowly over Tonks, from her thin lips that were a bit chapped, to the spot behind her ear that made her squirm and made him smile.
Only pictures follow, quick little moments that are framed in colour.
Dudley remembers Tonks grabbing his shoulders hard as he mouths her small breasts, surprise followed by a grin to see them hanging free.
Tonks sprawls across the bed, head bent back with her neck exposed as he continues to bite, lick and suck her breasts. Goosebumps spread across her exposed belly even as her pale face flushes from the heat of her arousal.
Her hips have enough flesh on them that Dudley is able to grab them and hold on, her stomach mostly flat with an outward curve here and there. She is perfect. This picture he will frame in his mind.
Flash forward to ten minutes, maybe an hour later. Dudley is a sweaty, naked mess and Tonks is no better. He remembers even less, just this:
Hot, wet heat as she takes his hand and brings it to where he has never gone before.
The slickslideslick of his fingers as she laughs and then moans while he is trying to make her come but has not yet figured out how to. He does it right every once in awhile, her clit the treasure in the complicated pirate map that he has only just seen.
(and he tries to forget) the fumbling attempt to eat her out. He ends up with a mouthful of pubic hair, a wet chin and not much else to say for it. She pulls him up for a kiss, soothing his pride.
The look on her face (so sneaky and just a little bit cocky) as she slides down his body to give him his first blow job.
The feeling of his first blow job, of short panting breaths that he does not recognize as his own, of his quick prayer of thanks that he is laying down as there is no way that he would be able to stand while she blows him.
The sudden shock of no longer having the quick tongue, the hollowed cheeks, the humming mouth around him.
And the part that follows. This is what he will remember for nights to come, for afternoons like this one when there is nothing else but to escape to his room for some time alone.
Stretched out on the bed, so hard and close that he is beginning to worry that there may be permanent damage to his bollocks, he is not prepared for her to straddle his thighs, her legs spread so far apart to accommodate his bulk that he briefly wonders at her flexibility.
Then all thoughts fly out of his mind as she rises above him, and slides herself onto his cock. Dudley cannot move, cannot think, cannot do anything except draw a staggering breath. Tonks may have asked if he is alright, if this is alright, but he cannot reply.
Never did he ever think that this would happen. A beautiful woman, even if she is one of those people, giving him the gift of sex even while she takes his virginity.
He mumbles out a drawn out “yeeeeeess”, and she begins to move. Slowly at first, but when Dudley starts to arch up his hips to meet her, she speeds up.
He stares at her beautiful body, her small breasts bouncing and her stomach quivering. Her short purple hair which he had earlier thought looked a bit ridiculous, has darkened with sweat and clings to her cheek with one strand curled forward to kiss the edge of her lip.
Dudley knows that he should last longer, that boys at school make fun of those who cannot, that it is his ultimate goal to make the girl come first but he cannot.
He cannot last under the feeling of her wet cunt gripping him tight as she slides up and down him. Cannot last when he reaches for her hips and uses his previously useless arms to drive her up and down. And so he does not last.
He cums hard, harder then he has ever thought possible. His hips jerk out of his control as he empties out his soul into her. She grips him tight as she can with her thighs, holding him still.
Finally his muscles unwind and his body relaxes back onto his bed. Still in possession of his cock, Tonks sprawls herself clumsily over his belly resting her head on his chest. Dudley remembers that she has not gotten off yet and reaches down to finger her, but she grabs his hand before he reaches his destination. They lay like this until the sweat begins to cool and he has begun to slide out of her.
She rolls off of him, gets off the bed and starts to put her clothes on. Dudley is woken from his stupor by her sudden movement.
“When can I see you again?” He asks her almost desperately because this has been the best day of his life, even better then the birthday when he got sixty-four presents.
She turns to look at him and gives him such a sweet smile that it almost breaks his heart to see it.
“Soon. You can see me whenever you want.” Tonks says while she is straightening her skirt, running her fingers through her still damp hair.
And then she leaves. The door opens and closes, and with it goes Dudley's heart.
Sometime later, Dudley woke from a sleep that he had not know he was in. Sounds from downstairs beckoned him back to the real world. As he prepared to move off his bed, he remembered, just as he will everyday for the rest of his life. Remembered the beautiful girl that was in his bed not so long ago that had already stolen his heart.
Smiling a broad grin, he hurried himself into his clothes even though he knew that he reeks of sex. Opening his bedroom door, he stepped out into the hall and was immediately stopped by a familiar voice coming from downstairs.
“....so where is that fat sod? Not quite sure how he lives with himself looking like he does. Doubt that any girl will want to be with him. It wouldn't be so bad if he was just a bit friendly, or even if he ever smiled. He always has that terrible scowl on his face, like he wants to punch someone's face in. The Weasley boys say that he was dreadful to Harry...”
Her voice carried on, interrupted only by Hestia's and Dedalus' laughter and comments, but all Dudley could hear is the terrible things that she has said. Was it not just an hour or so before that she was in his bed? Heart broken, Dudley knew that that he had been right. Magic is no good; it hurts and tastes like tears.
He turned around and heads back to his room, closing the door not so softly behind him. He grabbed the few things that he has on his shelves and throws them at the wall, cursing all the while. He felt like he could hear his heart and hope breaking, shattering, and he wanted everything else to do the same.
What he did not see is the little flashing bottle that he had forgotten about. A warning wrapped its way around the bottle:
WARNING:
Fantasy does not equal reality
(at least not after the drops expire)
Author: Kerplankia
Characters: Dudley/Tonks
Prompts: First time, safe house, Daydream Charm
Word Count: 3500
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Some plot, first time
Summary: Dudley hates the quiet of the safe house and how it is tearing his family apart. Magic is to blame. But magic is also to blame for what happens next..
Disclaimer: Not mine! If it was, my life would be a little more exciting.
Author’s Notes: First fic in a looooong time. Thanks to K for the beta! And thanks to the mods for being so patient with me.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Dudley sighed, breaking the stillness in the house. He did not like this supposed safe house. They had been there for only 3 days and already it was too quiet, filled with a nervous energy that was only broken by his father's low, angry muttering. Vernon did not let his voice grow loud in this house, afraid to be magicked by the strange wizards that kept them there. Diggles was the one with the bowler hat and the odd name, who never sat still. At least the woman wizard had a bit less of a freakish name. Hestia sounded almost normal compared to Diggles.
His mum was humming off-key in the kitchen, trying to cook supper while her hands gently shook, still unsure of herself in this new kitchen where none of the pots and pans are where they are supposed to be. The salt was supposed to be on this counter, not that one, and the pantry should be to the left of the sink, not next to the entry door. Petunia never did like change, especially when it broke the normalcy that defines her life.
His father sat on the couch staring at the empty space where a television set should be, but was not. Hestia and that wizard left them to their own devices for the afternoon, and without their constant chatter in the background, the house seemed to shrink even more into the quiet.
Dudley sighed again. His father did not break his stare at the wall, nor did his mum stop her nervous humming. He tried again to slip some noise into the wall of quiet, clearing his voice loudly. His father visibly startled, his bulk shifting as quickly as it can, and his neck wobbled as he turned his head to glare at the disturbance.
“Now see here! I am trying to have a nice afternoon without those..those...those people here. Keep it down, will you?”
Vernon huffed as he said this, spittle spraying a little, landing in beads on his moustache. Satisfied in the knowledge that Dudley would listen, he turned his head back to the empty wall that held the imaginary telly. Petunia did not stop her humming.
Dudley recoiled. Never had his father been peeved at him; it was always Harry who received the brunt of it. This safehouse had changed them all.
Finally realizing that nothing would be gained by staying here, he slowly got up from the chair that he had sat in for long enough to have left a permanent indent outlining the edges of his buttocks. Standing, he paused, unsure of where to go.
Going outside would mean that he would have to admit his unfamiliarity with the area; thinking on it, he realized that he had no idea of where they are or if it was safe to even leave the house. Hestia had said something about staying safe, and what he had to do to stay so, but he had been distracted by the growl of his stomach, and the hard ache in his throat that may had have something to do with finding out that Harry was not staying with them. Dudley stopped that train of thought; he did not want to think of Harry.
Still standing, awkwardly posed above his chair, a hand resting on the arm, fingers gripping a bit too tight, Dudley decided to head to his room, the only private space he had in this house.
Walking past his father was like walking past a stone statue. Vernon's eyes did not shift from the wall and the rest of his body followed his eyes' example. Dudley passed the entrance to the kitchen on the way to the stairwell. Hearing nothing from the kitchen, he paused at the doorway.
Peering in, he saw his mum with her head resting against the cupboards over the counter, her hands braced against the counter. Her elbows made sharp angles, the tendons straining as she pushed hard against the countertop lost in some thought. Dudley took a quick step back; this was not his mum.
Angry now, though at exactly what he was unsure, he was near to stomping as he turned the corner and walked heavily up the stairs. His room was at the end of the short hall and nowhere near as large as he was used to. This did not matter at the moment even though it had bothered him every other time he had entered the room. Opening the door just enough to let him in, he slammed it shut, wishing that he could lock it. A sharp “Oi!” is heard from the first floor, but he ignored it.
Dudley is angry, and growing angrier. Before all of this mess, life was normal. His mum and father loved him, praised him, and attended to his every need. Now, his father stared blankly at something that was not there, and his mum was lost in thoughts that Dudley was not privy to.
Plopping himself down on his bed, he heard a loud twang as the bed sank under his weight. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he reached for the one thing that would take his mind off of things. He fished in the topmost drawer in the night stand to the left of his bed. The usual filled the drawer; chewing gum, a half eaten bag of crisps, pens that have run out of ink, and an almost empty bottle of lube thoughtfully placed next to a porno magazine. These two things were some of the first that he packed when he found out that they were to leave the only house he had ever known.
Settling back against the headboard, he swung his legs onto the mattress while moving the blankets aside to make room for his legs to spread a bit. Opening the magazine, he thumbed through to a page that had been gazed at in rapt attention many times before.
The woman featured on this page was nothing special, but that was why he liked her. Her breasts were smallish, her shoulders were a bit too broad and her hair cut fairly short. Yet to Dudley, she was perfect. A beautiful, big breasted woman with a tiny waist and endless legs would never go for someone like him. This average girl who made her way into the mag was the kind of girl he might actually have a chance with.
She was naked, like all of the girls featured here, and lying on an old fashioned divan, legs opened wide, with a hand lying at the junction of her hip and leg. She appeared to be looking straight at Dudley as if she was aware of his stare.
Dudley was already half-hard from looking at her. He reached down to unzip his trousers when the forgotten bottle of lube was knocked off the edge of the bed onto the floor by his elbow. Swearing quietly under his breath, he looked down at the floor, but could not see it. Leaning over the side of his bed, he began to feel around for the bottle. His arm outstretched, he felt under the bed, grimacing at the feeling of a heavy layer of dust.
Feeling the edge of something hard he reached a little further, his arm awkwardly bent and rubbing the edge of the filthy floor. His hands finally closed around the object. Frustration finally starting to fade, he almost smiled as he brought the lube back from under the bed. But as soon as his eyes set on what his hand was gripping so tightly, the smile quickly disappeared.
This was not his bottle of lube. In fact, he had never seen something like this. It looked similar to an eye drop bottle, like his mum used to buy whenever he had conjunctivitis. Except that the ones his mum bought never had moving, flashing words and images circling the bottle. Words like Daydream! and Fantasy! spiralled quickly around the bottle. Words were replaced with images of smirking, smiling faces of beautiful women, of strong jaws and winks from manly men, and a sea of serene blue and sandy beaches.
The bottle itself was not too large, and held a clear liquid that bubbled and shook and Dudley believed that he could even see little images forming in the liquid. His porn mag forgotten, he just stared at this bottle, holding it up close to his face. At first he thought that maybe this was a new technology, but no; if there were advertisement schemes like this he would have seen them before. This was different. This was magic.
A cacophony of noises came from downstairs distracting Dudley for a moment. A loud wail sounded over what seemed to be pots and pans falling. He sighed and the earlier anger that had dissipated when he had entered his bedroom began to return again. He was about to throw the strange bottle aside, when he noticed that a new set of words had circled around the bottle, slowing coming to a stop in front of his gaze.
Wishes and dreams can come true!
Place one drop in each eye,
And your fantasy will play before
Your very own eyes!
Smaller writing appeared below these four lines, warning about overuse, and that fantasy did not equal reality (at least not after the drops expired). Dudley could not believe what he was seeing. A way to fantasize that would involve more than just his own imagination? He shook his head at the absurdity of his desire to use something that was responsible for him trying to wank and forget in the first place, he tried to roll the bottle back under the bed. Before he could, new words formed.
Try it...You will not regret it!!
Dudley stopped again. Oh, what the hell. He might as well give it a chance. There was nothing else for him to do in this house.
Carefully unscrewing the top, he stared at the bottle in his hand a little unsure if he did want to go through with this. Sighing to himself, he leaned his head back and put one drop in each eye, blinking quickly at the feeling of the liquid pooling in his eyes and sat back waiting for the proposed effects to begin.
Nothing happened. Dudley looked around his room, waiting for a magical fantasy to begin. Yet nothing happened. This was just like magic. It hurts and it disappoints. Just look at his mum; since the move to the safe house, she had broken into tiny pieces like the three shattered glasses she had dropped the day before.
Sighing another sigh, Dudley gave up his dream of a peaceful afternoon wank. He reached forward to grab his porn mag and to return it back into his night stand when someone gave a loud knock on his door. Startled, he quickly shoved the still-open magazine under his covers, praying that it was not his mother that has come to “check on her poor little Dudders”.
Someone knocked once more in quick, short knocks. “Yes?” he called out, hoping that the person who was on the other side of the door would just disappear.
The door opened and Dudley saw that it was not his mum on the other side of the door. It was that wizard, the one who had stopped by the day before with the hair that flashed different colours. She (Tok? Donks?) with her ability to change how she looked had been the reason that Petunia had dropped the glasses, shocked at the appearance of a pig's snout on the wizard's face.
The woman just stood in his doorway, staring at him. Her name came back to him like a splash of colour in his mind. Tonks.
He cleared his throat, and said with a frown that was evident in his voice, “Well yes? What do you want?”
Tonks stepped into Dudley's room and closed the door behind her. She did not stop staring straight at him and her silent stare began to unnerve him. He began his own stare, turning it evaluative. Her hair today was a deep purple and quite short, much like the skirt that she paired with a faded t-shirt that had an unfamiliar word scribbled across the front.
The silence in the room became heavy, and Dudley would later swear that it became so quiet that he could hear the blood in his veins, rushing away from his head and straight downwards as he stared more and more at the length of leg that was standing in front of him. Later, he would say that he was unsure of what happened next, but that to him it seemed like in one moment she went from standing near the doorway, to sitting next to him on the bed.
Later, he would tell no one but himself of how she leaned over, whispered his name softly and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Later, he would not say that he took one of his large, meaty hands to grab her behind the neck and pull her close for a long kiss that tasted like magic (tears). Her lips were not as soft as Martha's, who had lived two doors down, nor were they as large and plump as Fiona's, who lived near the park, but this was the best kiss he ever had.
Magic seemed to hum in his bones, making a song so sad and sweet that it made his heart ache, his mouth moving slowly over Tonks, from her thin lips that were a bit chapped, to the spot behind her ear that made her squirm and made him smile.
Only pictures follow, quick little moments that are framed in colour.
Dudley remembers Tonks grabbing his shoulders hard as he mouths her small breasts, surprise followed by a grin to see them hanging free.
Tonks sprawls across the bed, head bent back with her neck exposed as he continues to bite, lick and suck her breasts. Goosebumps spread across her exposed belly even as her pale face flushes from the heat of her arousal.
Her hips have enough flesh on them that Dudley is able to grab them and hold on, her stomach mostly flat with an outward curve here and there. She is perfect. This picture he will frame in his mind.
Flash forward to ten minutes, maybe an hour later. Dudley is a sweaty, naked mess and Tonks is no better. He remembers even less, just this:
Hot, wet heat as she takes his hand and brings it to where he has never gone before.
The slickslideslick of his fingers as she laughs and then moans while he is trying to make her come but has not yet figured out how to. He does it right every once in awhile, her clit the treasure in the complicated pirate map that he has only just seen.
(and he tries to forget) the fumbling attempt to eat her out. He ends up with a mouthful of pubic hair, a wet chin and not much else to say for it. She pulls him up for a kiss, soothing his pride.
The look on her face (so sneaky and just a little bit cocky) as she slides down his body to give him his first blow job.
The feeling of his first blow job, of short panting breaths that he does not recognize as his own, of his quick prayer of thanks that he is laying down as there is no way that he would be able to stand while she blows him.
The sudden shock of no longer having the quick tongue, the hollowed cheeks, the humming mouth around him.
And the part that follows. This is what he will remember for nights to come, for afternoons like this one when there is nothing else but to escape to his room for some time alone.
Stretched out on the bed, so hard and close that he is beginning to worry that there may be permanent damage to his bollocks, he is not prepared for her to straddle his thighs, her legs spread so far apart to accommodate his bulk that he briefly wonders at her flexibility.
Then all thoughts fly out of his mind as she rises above him, and slides herself onto his cock. Dudley cannot move, cannot think, cannot do anything except draw a staggering breath. Tonks may have asked if he is alright, if this is alright, but he cannot reply.
Never did he ever think that this would happen. A beautiful woman, even if she is one of those people, giving him the gift of sex even while she takes his virginity.
He mumbles out a drawn out “yeeeeeess”, and she begins to move. Slowly at first, but when Dudley starts to arch up his hips to meet her, she speeds up.
He stares at her beautiful body, her small breasts bouncing and her stomach quivering. Her short purple hair which he had earlier thought looked a bit ridiculous, has darkened with sweat and clings to her cheek with one strand curled forward to kiss the edge of her lip.
Dudley knows that he should last longer, that boys at school make fun of those who cannot, that it is his ultimate goal to make the girl come first but he cannot.
He cannot last under the feeling of her wet cunt gripping him tight as she slides up and down him. Cannot last when he reaches for her hips and uses his previously useless arms to drive her up and down. And so he does not last.
He cums hard, harder then he has ever thought possible. His hips jerk out of his control as he empties out his soul into her. She grips him tight as she can with her thighs, holding him still.
Finally his muscles unwind and his body relaxes back onto his bed. Still in possession of his cock, Tonks sprawls herself clumsily over his belly resting her head on his chest. Dudley remembers that she has not gotten off yet and reaches down to finger her, but she grabs his hand before he reaches his destination. They lay like this until the sweat begins to cool and he has begun to slide out of her.
She rolls off of him, gets off the bed and starts to put her clothes on. Dudley is woken from his stupor by her sudden movement.
“When can I see you again?” He asks her almost desperately because this has been the best day of his life, even better then the birthday when he got sixty-four presents.
She turns to look at him and gives him such a sweet smile that it almost breaks his heart to see it.
“Soon. You can see me whenever you want.” Tonks says while she is straightening her skirt, running her fingers through her still damp hair.
And then she leaves. The door opens and closes, and with it goes Dudley's heart.
Sometime later, Dudley woke from a sleep that he had not know he was in. Sounds from downstairs beckoned him back to the real world. As he prepared to move off his bed, he remembered, just as he will everyday for the rest of his life. Remembered the beautiful girl that was in his bed not so long ago that had already stolen his heart.
Smiling a broad grin, he hurried himself into his clothes even though he knew that he reeks of sex. Opening his bedroom door, he stepped out into the hall and was immediately stopped by a familiar voice coming from downstairs.
“....so where is that fat sod? Not quite sure how he lives with himself looking like he does. Doubt that any girl will want to be with him. It wouldn't be so bad if he was just a bit friendly, or even if he ever smiled. He always has that terrible scowl on his face, like he wants to punch someone's face in. The Weasley boys say that he was dreadful to Harry...”
Her voice carried on, interrupted only by Hestia's and Dedalus' laughter and comments, but all Dudley could hear is the terrible things that she has said. Was it not just an hour or so before that she was in his bed? Heart broken, Dudley knew that that he had been right. Magic is no good; it hurts and tastes like tears.
He turned around and heads back to his room, closing the door not so softly behind him. He grabbed the few things that he has on his shelves and throws them at the wall, cursing all the while. He felt like he could hear his heart and hope breaking, shattering, and he wanted everything else to do the same.
What he did not see is the little flashing bottle that he had forgotten about. A warning wrapped its way around the bottle:
WARNING:
Fantasy does not equal reality
(at least not after the drops expire)