(no subject)
Title: “The Lust of the Goat”
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Pairing: Aberforth Dumbledore and Alice Corbett
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Goats and a lemon reamer
Summary: “The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.” William Blake
He surveyed the girl again with a critical eye. She wasn't delicate nor was she stropping. But sturdy and good with her hands. That's what he needed. An extra pair of hands both at the bar and at the barn over which he slept. Certainly couldn't stay over the bar itself as the bloody Wailing Whiskey never shut the hell up. Anyway, in the barn he could stay close to his kids... and his does.
That was his first love. It all started with one small goat named Camilla, a fine girl with excellent bone structure and tight little tail. And from then on it, it was a love affair for the ages, or some such nonsense. Really it was just what he liked and bugger anyone who wanted to have words with him. After all, Albus had his bloody sweets and that Sirius bloke had his motorbike and his bookish boyfriend. Aberforth could have his goats. And neither them nor the bloody Ministry would stop him.
They knew he was at the auction. Perhaps they took it as a good sign, that old Aberforth was moving on to a new hobby. Women instead of goats. He'd let the fools think what they wanted as he inspected Alice's hands, ran his own down her back, made her bend over then sit down with her legs slightly spread. He nodded gruffly then returned to his place as the bidding began. He wouldn't let his one pass. He didn't want to have to inspect another and he certainly didn't want a man in his home. Leave that to the queers and the Greeks. Even if they were the same thing. Like the French too.
He raised his paddle every time some bid against him. Finally the cost had gotten so extraordinary that only one slight round lad with freckles and a shy demeanor kept challenging his right to this girl. So he glowered at him, expression twisted in dangerous anger, all the opposite of his brother's kindhearted if often misplaced affection. And the boy let his 168 descend. The girl looked in shock between him and the boy, eyes lingering and attempting to communicate something that Aberforth figured must have been epic poetry in Latin for all the eyebrow twitching and eyeball bulging that was happening. But the gavel fell and Aberforth strode to the auctioneer, paid out his galleons then took Alice by the wrist and left the building as quickly as he could with the girl dragging her feet as she was.
They returned home and he opened the doors to the barn, taking her into the sanctuary of fresh hay and warm bodies. "These are my girls. Just like you are now. I'll show you want you'll have to do, though you might have to do things a bit differently because you're a lass with different parts."
Alice's eyes widened once more, shifting her weight nervously behind Aberforth as he coaxed out Daphne, the oldest of his girls. He settled down behind her, spreading his legs around her. "Normally they'll stay still but a few of them don't like it as well as they should. so you'll have to restrain them. Reckon some of them like that as well."
He chuckled then readjusted his trousers, and Alice turned a rather alarming shade of pink. "You try sitting like this and not having your willy shift about in your trousers, lass."
Aberforth shifted again then reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal lemon reamer. “I’ll show you how to use this later tonight,” he promised with a grin.
He returned his attention to Daphne, stroking one hand affectionately over her back then down around her full udder, hand gentle and caressing. "That's my beautiful Daphne. You like your dad's hands don't you? Always so gentle. Let you have just want you want, doesn't he? He knows what you need. Beautiful Daphne doe."
There was some small squeak then the rustle of robes as Alice turned and fled, leaving the barn door wide open. Aberforth looked between the open door and the retreating figure to the patiently waiting goat between his legs.
"Bloody hell. Think the woman had never seen a man milk his goat before."
Author: pre_raphaelite1
Pairing: Aberforth Dumbledore and Alice Corbett
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Goats and a lemon reamer
Summary: “The lust of the goat is the bounty of God.” William Blake
He surveyed the girl again with a critical eye. She wasn't delicate nor was she stropping. But sturdy and good with her hands. That's what he needed. An extra pair of hands both at the bar and at the barn over which he slept. Certainly couldn't stay over the bar itself as the bloody Wailing Whiskey never shut the hell up. Anyway, in the barn he could stay close to his kids... and his does.
That was his first love. It all started with one small goat named Camilla, a fine girl with excellent bone structure and tight little tail. And from then on it, it was a love affair for the ages, or some such nonsense. Really it was just what he liked and bugger anyone who wanted to have words with him. After all, Albus had his bloody sweets and that Sirius bloke had his motorbike and his bookish boyfriend. Aberforth could have his goats. And neither them nor the bloody Ministry would stop him.
They knew he was at the auction. Perhaps they took it as a good sign, that old Aberforth was moving on to a new hobby. Women instead of goats. He'd let the fools think what they wanted as he inspected Alice's hands, ran his own down her back, made her bend over then sit down with her legs slightly spread. He nodded gruffly then returned to his place as the bidding began. He wouldn't let his one pass. He didn't want to have to inspect another and he certainly didn't want a man in his home. Leave that to the queers and the Greeks. Even if they were the same thing. Like the French too.
He raised his paddle every time some bid against him. Finally the cost had gotten so extraordinary that only one slight round lad with freckles and a shy demeanor kept challenging his right to this girl. So he glowered at him, expression twisted in dangerous anger, all the opposite of his brother's kindhearted if often misplaced affection. And the boy let his 168 descend. The girl looked in shock between him and the boy, eyes lingering and attempting to communicate something that Aberforth figured must have been epic poetry in Latin for all the eyebrow twitching and eyeball bulging that was happening. But the gavel fell and Aberforth strode to the auctioneer, paid out his galleons then took Alice by the wrist and left the building as quickly as he could with the girl dragging her feet as she was.
They returned home and he opened the doors to the barn, taking her into the sanctuary of fresh hay and warm bodies. "These are my girls. Just like you are now. I'll show you want you'll have to do, though you might have to do things a bit differently because you're a lass with different parts."
Alice's eyes widened once more, shifting her weight nervously behind Aberforth as he coaxed out Daphne, the oldest of his girls. He settled down behind her, spreading his legs around her. "Normally they'll stay still but a few of them don't like it as well as they should. so you'll have to restrain them. Reckon some of them like that as well."
He chuckled then readjusted his trousers, and Alice turned a rather alarming shade of pink. "You try sitting like this and not having your willy shift about in your trousers, lass."
Aberforth shifted again then reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal lemon reamer. “I’ll show you how to use this later tonight,” he promised with a grin.
He returned his attention to Daphne, stroking one hand affectionately over her back then down around her full udder, hand gentle and caressing. "That's my beautiful Daphne. You like your dad's hands don't you? Always so gentle. Let you have just want you want, doesn't he? He knows what you need. Beautiful Daphne doe."
There was some small squeak then the rustle of robes as Alice turned and fled, leaving the barn door wide open. Aberforth looked between the open door and the retreating figure to the patiently waiting goat between his legs.
"Bloody hell. Think the woman had never seen a man milk his goat before."