This Chapter has an R-18 scene in the second half. (To no one's surprise…)
Chapter 42:
– Harry –
Much to Mum's disappointment, she had to separate from me when we reached the arena. Grandmother and Grandfather were both waiting for us and had a lot of important things to talk with Serafall first, before she could drag me or Sona off to whatever celebration she had planned.
I found Professor Dumbledore sitting alone at the very top of the arena stands.
The climb up had been sobering. Each section of the stadium told its own story of the battle that had raged here—scorch marks from lightspears blackened the wooden benches, deep gouges in the stone where desperate defensive spells had been cast, dark stains on the seats that I tried not to look at too closely. The smell of smoke and something copper-sharp still hung in the air despite the cold Scottish wind that whipped through the damaged structure.
The old Headmaster didn't turn as I approached, though I knew he was aware of my presence. A wizard of his caliber would have sensed me the moment I got closer. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his long silver beard spilling over his clasped hands, staring out at the ruined pitch below where crews of house-elves and professors were still working to clear debris and... other things.
Even from behind, I could feel the magic radiating off him. Like a storm that had spent its fury but hadn't fully dissipated, still crackling with residual lightning beneath deceptively calm clouds.
He looked exhausted. That was what struck me most as I settled onto the bench beside him. The twinkle that usually animated those old eyes was absent, replaced by a bone-deep weariness that seemed to age him another century. His magnificent robes—purple today, or what was left of them—were singed and torn in several places. A thin cut on his cheek had scabbed over, and there were dark circles under his eyes that I had never noticed before.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. We just sat there, two very different beings united by the weight of what had happened, watching the cleanup efforts far below.
"I'm sorry," I finally said, my voice rough. The words felt inadequate, pathetically insufficient for the magnitude of what had occurred, but I didn't know what else to say. "This is our fault. Those Fallen Angels... they wouldn't have attacked Hogwarts if it wasn't for us devils attending here. If I had never enrolled—" I couldn't finish the sentence.
"No." The word was soft but firm. Dumbledore's hand reached over and settled on my shoulder, the grip surprisingly strong for a man who looked so frail. I turned to meet his gaze and found those ancient blue eyes watching me with something that might have been compassion, or understanding, or both. "You must not blame yourself for this, Harry," he said, his voice carrying that particular quality of gentle authority that made you want to believe every word. "We all heard the same announcement at the beginning of the attack. These evil creatures declared themselves as allies of Voldemort." Dumbledore's expression darkened. "This has Tom Riddle's fingerprints all over it..." He trailed off for a moment. "What confuses me," Dumbledore continued, almost as if speaking to himself, "is why Voldemort did not appear personally. If he truly orchestrated this attack, if his goal was to kill you or sow terror among the magical community, why send others to do what he could have done himself?" His fingers stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Unless... perhaps he intended for the Fallen Angels to serve as sacrificial pawns. A test of Hogwarts' defenses. A way to gauge our strength while risking nothing of his own forces."
"Sounds like a coward's strategy," I spat, unable to keep the venom from my voice.
"Indeed. Tom has always been many things, but brave is not among them. Not truly brave, in any case. He fears death above all else and will sacrifice anyone—human, angel, or otherwise—to preserve his own wretched existence."
My hands clenched into fists on my knees. "I really fucking hate that asshole." The profanity slipped out before I could stop it, and I winced at cursing in front of the headmaster.
But Dumbledore merely nodded. "Your sentiment is understandable, and increasingly shared." He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again. "I used to pity Tom, you know. Long ago, when I first met him as a child in that dreary orphanage. I saw a boy who had been failed by the world, twisted by circumstances beyond his control, and I believed—truly believed—that redemption was possible for him. For anyone." He drew a deep breath, and I watched something shift in his expression. The grandfatherly warmth that usually softened his face hardened into something colder, more resolute. "I have spent my entire life preaching that philosophy. That no soul is beyond saving. That even the darkest heart can find its way back to the light if shown enough compassion, enough patience, enough love." His voice grew quieter, but somehow more intense. "After today... after an attack that cost the lives of six of my students..." He turned to look at me directly. "There will be no more second chances," Dumbledore said, each word dropping like a stone into still water. "No more attempts at rehabilitation. No more mercy. When I find Tom Riddle, I will end him. Permanently."
The magical pressure in the air spiked so sharply that I actually flinched. For just a moment, I caught a glimpse of what Dumbledore must have looked like in his prime—a force of nature wrapped in human flesh.
Everyone always said you should never piss off the Archmage. Now I understood why on a visceral level.
Then the moment passed. The pressure eased. Dumbledore seemed to deflate slightly, the righteous fury settling back beneath the surface, and he was once again just a very old, very tired man sitting in the ruins of his school.
"So," I managed, my voice coming out slightly higher than I intended, "what happens now?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. "The Triwizard Tournament is finished. Officially cancelled as of this afternoon."
"Because of the attack?" I asked him. I felt a bit guilty at the fact I was disappointed to hear those words, but there was also some relief in there as well.
"Partially." His expression grew pained. "During the battle, a group of Fallen Angels specifically targeted the medical tent. Whether by design or terrible coincidence, Viktor Krum was being treated there for the burns he sustained during the dragon task." He paused, and I saw genuine grief flicker across his features. "He did not survive."
My stomach dropped. Viktor Krum—the famous Quidditch star, the pride of Durmstrang, barely older than me—dead. Not in some glorious final battle or heroic last stand, but murdered while lying helpless in a hospital bed.
"Shit," I breathed. "That's..."
"Tragic," Dumbledore finished quietly. "And unforgivable. And I have no doubt it will cause a massive scandal when news of this attack gets out to the wider wizarding world…"
I could only imagine the diplomatic nightmare that was about to unfold. An international sporting event turned into a battlefield, a famous athlete murdered on British soil.
"Beyond the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "I will be closing Hogwarts for at least a month. Possibly longer." He gestured vaguely at the damaged stadium around us. "The wards that have protected this school for a thousand years proved... insufficient against a coordinated supernatural assault. I intend to completely revamp every defensive enchantment, every protective barrier, every early warning system we have. When Hogwarts reopens, it will be a fortress. Nothing like this will ever be allowed to happen again."
I nodded slowly, processing this information. A month without Hogwarts.
The thought left an unexpected ache in my chest.
It was strange. I had only been at this school for a few months—less than a full term, really. And yet somehow, in that short time, Hogwarts had become a place where I had found family, friendship, love, purpose. A place that had changed my life in ways I was still trying to understand.
"I'll miss it," I admitted quietly. "Being here, I mean. I know that probably sounds stupid, given everything that just happened, but..."
"It does not sound stupid at all," Dumbledore said gently. "It sounds like the words of a young man who has found where he belongs. That is a precious thing, Harry. Never apologize for it."
I felt heat creep up my neck at the unexpected kindness. To cover my embarrassment, I straightened my shoulders and met his gaze directly. "House Sitri will help," I said firmly. "Whatever you need to upgrade the wards—magical focal objects, rare materials, funding for specialized enchanters—my mother and grandmother will provide it. Consider it our contribution to making sure this never happens again."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly, and for just a moment, a hint of that familiar twinkle returned to his eyes. "That is an extraordinarily generous offer, Harry. The resources required to properly ward a castle of this size and magical significance… And your family has already donated so much money at this point."
I shook my head stubbornly. "It's the least we can do."
For a long moment, Dumbledore simply looked at me. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spread across his weathered face—the first real smile I had seen from him since I sat down. "You are a remarkable young man, Harry Sitri," he said warmly. "Your mother must be very proud."
Now I was definitely blushing. "I don't know about remarkable—"
"I do." Dumbledore patted my shoulder again, then used his other hand to push himself to his feet with a soft grunt of effort. He suddenly looked every one of his considerable years, but there was something lighter in his bearing now. A weight lifted, perhaps, or at least shared. "Thank you for sitting with me, Harry. Thank you for the offer of assistance. And thank you for being exactly the kind of person I hoped you would be."
I stood as well, not quite sure what to say to that.
"Now," Dumbledore continued, shooing me gently with one hand, "enough wallowing with an old man. Go find your friends, your family. After a day like this, you all need each other." His smile turned slightly mischievous, a glimpse of his usual self peeking through. "And I suspect there are several young ladies who are very eager to confirm with their own eyes that you survived your encounter with that dragon and everything after."
I couldn't help but laugh at that, even as my face burned hotter. "Yeah, probably."
"Then go. Rest. Heal." Dumbledore turned away, his gaze drifting back to the ruined pitch below. "We will speak again before you leave the school. There is much to discuss about the future. But for now... for now, let us simply be grateful that we are still here to have a future at all."
I hesitated for just a moment, looking at the old wizard's profile against the grey sky. Then I nodded, even though he couldn't see it, and made my way back down the damaged stadium stairs.
The first thing I did after leaving Dumbledore was spread out my demonic senses across the stadium grounds.
I was looking for the more fragile humans first. Jasmine and Marlene had been fighting together during the battle. I'd seen them from the air, mother and daughter standing shoulder to shoulder.
But when I swept my senses across the arena, searching for their signatures, I came up empty. They must have evacuated with the rest of the civilian witches and wizards once the fighting died down.
Good. That was good. They were safe.
I was about to expand my search further when a familiar warmth brushed against my awareness—closer than I expected, moving fast.
"Harry!"
I turned just in time to catch Ginny Weasley as she launched herself at me.
The redheaded witch slammed into my chest with enough force to make me stagger back a step, her arms wrapping around my neck in a fierce, desperate embrace. She was trembling slightly, I realized, there were tiny shivers running through her athletic body.
"You're okay," she breathed into my neck, her voice thick with relief. "Oh thank Merlin, you're okay. I saw you fighting that thing—that dragon—and then you flew up into the sky after those evil angels and I couldn't see what was happening and I thought—" She cut herself off, squeezing me tighter. "You were amazing, Harry. Absolutely bloody amazing!"
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close, letting myself sink into the comfort of her warmth for just a moment. "I'm fine," I murmured into her hair. "A few scratches, nothing serious. What about you? What about your family?"
Ginny pulled back just enough to look up at me, her brown eyes bright with unshed tears that she was clearly too stubborn to let fall. "We're all okay. Mum and the other parents got the younger students out through the emergency portkeys. Fred and George were helping Professor Flitwick defend one of the exit tunnels—they actually took down two of those black-winged bastards together, can you believe it!?" A shaky laugh escaped her lips. "Percy was useless, of course. Ran screaming the moment the first lightspear hit the stands. But everyone made it out alive."
The Weasleys had been through enough lately—losing Arthur, the family's grief still raw and fresh. If any of them had died today, on top of everything else...
"I'm glad," I said softly, meaning it. "I'm really glad your family is ok, Ginny."
She smiled up at me, then she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine. When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed and her breathing had quickened. "I need to go find my family," she said reluctantly. "Mum's probably losing her mind worrying about all of us…" And then she was gone, jogging toward one of the intact exit tunnels.
I watched her go, a small smile tugging at my lips despite everything. Then I turned my attention back to the ruined arena below.
That's when I felt a cluster of powerful signatures gathered near the center of the pitch, right where the dragon had fallen. The thing that had called itself Crom Cruach. I'd left it unconscious after our battle, too focused on the aerial fight and protecting my mother to worry about finishing it off.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one who'd noticed it was still breathing. I made my way down through the damaged stands. As I got closer, I could make out individual figures standing in a loose circle around the massive black form of the fallen beast.
The girls hadn't noticed my approach yet. They were too focused on their debate, voices carrying clearly across the empty pitch.
"—can't just leave it here," Hermione was saying, her bushy hair even more wild than usual, her robes torn and stained with what looked like a combination of soot and golden ichor. She had her wand out, gesturing at the unconscious beast with sharp, emphatic movements. "It's a magical creature of unknown origin with apparent sentience and the ability to speak. The research implications alone are staggering. But we need to decide what to do with it before the Ministry gets involved and tries to claim jurisdiction."
"Kill it." Sona's voice was flat and cold, her glasses glinting in the dim light as she stared down at the dragon with undisguised hostility. "It tried to murder Harry. It announced its intention to eat him in front of thousands of witnesses. The appropriate response is execution."
"I agree with my King," Tsubaki added quietly. "Leaving it alive invites future complications."
Lilja stood with her arms crossed over her armored chest. "We could have it stuffed and mounted. Put it in Harry's bedroom as a reminder of his victory."
"That's... actually an interesting idea," Rossweisse admitted, pushing a strand of silver hair out of her face. "In Asgard, warriors often kept trophies from their greatest battles. A dragon of this size would be a worthy prize."
"You're all being barbaric." The voice was Rias's. Her Hogwarts uniform was in tatters. I noticed how much creamy skin was visible but it didn't seem to bother her. "We don't know why this dragon attacked Harry," Rias continued, her voice firm. "We don't know if it was forced, or manipulated, or simply raised from birth to believe that violence was its only purpose. It called itself Crom Cruach, but it's not the real thing—it's a clone, probably created by someone who wanted a weapon." She gestured at the broken, bleeding creature at their feet. "Look at it. Does this look like an evil mastermind to you? Or does it look like a victim of circumstances beyond its control?"
Sona's eyes narrowed. "It tried to kill—"
"I know what it tried to do." Rias cut her off, uncharacteristically sharp. "But killing something that's already beaten, that can't fight back, that might not have ever had a choice in becoming what it is..." She shook her head slowly. "That's not justice."
Silence fell over the group. The girls exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier certainty wavering in the face of Rias's unexpected compassion.
"She has a point," Akeno murmured, surprising everyone. The sadistic glint that usually animated her violet eyes was absent, replaced by something more contemplative. "I know what it's like to be judged for what you were born as, rather than who you choose to be. This creature never asked to be created. It never asked to be turned into a weapon. Perhaps..." She trailed off, shrugging elegantly. "Perhaps it deserves a chance to become something else."
That was when I decided to make my presence known. "Personally," I said, stepping into the circle of women, "I wouldn't mind fighting it again someday. Under more peaceful circumstances, obviously."
The reaction of all the girls there was immediate and gratifying.
Hermione spun around with a gasp, her brown eyes going wide before filling with tears of relief. "Harry!" She crossed the distance between us in three quick strides and threw herself into my arms, her soft body pressing flush against mine as she buried her face in my chest. "Oh Gosh, Harry, I was so worried—when you flew up to fight that Fallen Angel leader, I thought—I couldn't—"
"Shh." I wrapped my arms around her, one hand coming up to stroke her wild curls. "I'm okay. I'm right here."
Before Hermione could respond, another body collided with us from the side. Lilja had apparently decided that waiting her turn was for lesser beings, because she simply inserted herself into the embrace, her arms snaking around my waist as she pressed her cheek against my shoulder.
"Harry," she murmured, her voice a mix of pride and something softer. "I hope you saw me out there. I must have cut down at least thirty of those feathered bastards."
"I saw," I assured her, and I had—brief glimpses. "You were incredible. Both of you were." I pulled back just enough to look at them both, my heart swelling with pride and affection and a dozen other emotions I couldn't untangle. "All of you were. I've never been more proud of my peerage—of my family—than I am right now."
Hermione sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm not used to fighting that intensely," she admitted, her voice still a bit shaky. "Dueling in class is one thing, but actually trying to kill enemies who are trying to kill you back..." She straightened her spine, squaring her shoulders with visible effort. "But I wasn't going to let any Fallen Angels take down our school. Not while I was still standing."
"That's my girls." I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then did the same for Lilja. I didn't miss the happy grin Lilja shot her sister Roseweisse—who was biting her lower lip in obvious jealousy.
I turned my attention to the other devils in the group next, and immediately felt my mouth go dry.
My fiance, Rias's Hogwarts uniform had been reduced to little more than a tattered skirt and scraps of white fabric that hung uselessly from her shoulders. The blouse had been torn completely open at some point during the fighting, and whatever bra she'd been wearing underneath had apparently been incinerated by stray magic.
Which meant I had an unobstructed view of her bare chest.
Her breasts were magnificent—there was no other word for it. Large and perfectly shaped, pale as fresh cream with rose-pink nipples that had stiffened in the cool Scottish air. They rose and fell gently with each breath she took, and I found myself utterly hypnotized by the subtle bounce and sway of movement.
Beside her, Akeno was in an even more scandalous state. The sadistic Queen of Rias's peerage had apparently lost her entire top at some point, leaving her fighting in nothing but a tattered black skirt and thigh-high stockings. Her breasts were just as impressive as her King's—perhaps even slightly larger—and they were completely, gloriously exposed. Her nipples were a darker shade of pink, and they stood at rigid attention as she caught me staring.
A knowing smile curved her lips, and she arched her back ever so slightly, presenting herself more fully to my gaze.
I gulped audibly, feeling my pants tighten uncomfortably. The thing was, I was still keyed up from what had happened in the forest with Serafall barely fifteen minutes ago. My body hadn't fully come down from that encounter. My self-control was hanging by a very thin thread.
Rias moved first and stepped toward me. "Harry," she said, her voice carrying a weight of feeling that made my chest tighten. "I'm so glad you're safe." And then she was hugging me.
Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me close, and suddenly those magnificent bare breasts were pressing directly against my chest. The warmth of her skin seared through the tattered remnants of my robes, her nipples dragging across my own mostly-exposed torso as she squeezed me tight. I could feel the rapid flutter of her heartbeat. "I was watching from the stands," Rias murmured into my neck, her breath hot against my skin. "When you fought that dragon, when you flew up to face Kokabiel... I wanted to help. I wanted to be up there with you." Her arms tightened around me. "Promise me you won't do something that reckless again without me by your side!"
"I promise," I said, and meant it.
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her eyes searching my face. Whatever she found there must have satisfied her, because she smiled—a genuine, radiant expression that made her already beautiful features absolutely stunning.
Then she kissed me.
It wasn't a long kiss, but it was passionate, her soft lips pressing firmly against mine, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of my mouth before retreating. When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed and her breathing had quickened noticeably.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For protecting all of us."
Before I could respond, my attention was drawn to Sona.
My beautiful aunt stood a few feet away, her arms wrapped around herself in an uncharacteristically defensive posture. Unlike Rias and Akeno, her uniform had survived the battle mostly intact. Sona was far too precise and controlled in her fighting style to allow something as undignified as clothing damage. But her usual mask of cool composure had cracked, revealing the worry beneath.
She was fidgeting. Actually fidgeting, her fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve, her pink eyes darting between me and the ground.
My proud, composed aunt, the heiress of House Sitri, reduced to nervous fidgeting because she'd been worried about me. I made a decision.
I didn't care if a few other students were still nearby. I didn't care if professors or Ministry officials might see. I didn't care about propriety or scandal or any of the hundred other concerns that might have given me pause on a normal day. This wasn't a normal day. This was the day we had survived an attack that could have killed everyone we loved. And Sona needed to know—needed to feel—that I was here, that I was alive, that I wasn't going anywhere.
I stepped toward her, and before she could react, I grabbed the small of her back and pulled her flush against me. Her eyes went wide behind her glasses, a startled gasp escaping her lips.
Then I kissed her right there.
"Eeep!"
The sound she made into my mouth was adorable—a squeaky little noise of surprise that vibrated against my lips. But her shock lasted only a heartbeat before her body responded, melting against me as her arms came up to wrap around my neck.
Her body was slimmer than my crimson-haired fiancée's but no less appealing, her modest curves fitting perfectly against me as we stood there in the middle of the ruined Quidditch pitch, kissing like the world might end if we stopped.
When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, Sona's face was flushed a deep, brilliant red that extended all the way to the tips of her ears. Her glasses had fogged up slightly, and she had to take them off to clean them, blinking up at me with slightly unfocused eyes.
"Harry," she managed, her voice coming out as a breathless squeak. "We're... there are people..."
"I don't care," I said simply.
The blush deepened impossibly further, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she pressed closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of my ruined shirt.
"Ara ara~"
The purring voice came from directly beside us, and I turned to find Akeno had somehow materialized at my elbow without me noticing. Her violet eyes were half-lidded with obvious desire, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she looked me up and down with shameless appreciation.
"I don't get a kiss?" she asked, her voice a melodic pout that somehow managed to be both innocent and incredibly suggestive at the same time. "That hardly seems fair, Harry-kun. I worked so hard during the battle, you know. I electrocuted at least twenty of those nasty Fallen Angels." She pressed a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Or was it thirty? I lost count after a while. They were screaming so deliciously..."
The sadistic glint in her eyes as she described killing enemies probably shouldn't have been attractive. And yet.
I glanced at Rias, silently asking permission. She met my gaze for a moment, then sighed with a mixture of amusement and resignation, giving me a small nod. She was Akeno's best friend after all…
Akeno's eyes widened as I stepped toward her, genuine surprise flickering across her face. For all her teasing and flirtations these past few weeks, she apparently hadn't expected me to actually follow through.
Then I claimed her lips, and she melted.
The kiss was different from the others. Where Rias had been passionate and Sona had been desperate, Akeno was... hungry. The moment our mouths connected, she moaned deep in her throat and pressed herself against me, her bare breasts squashing against my chest as her hands fisted in the remains of my shirt. Her tongue invaded my mouth without hesitation, tangling with mine in a wet, messy dance that left us both breathing hard.
She was rubbing her bare chest against me with shameless enthusiasm, her stiff nipples dragging across my skin. The sounds she was making—little moans and whimpers and gasps—were utterly obscene.
"Ugh! Give an inch and she takes a mile. That's enough, Akeno!" Rias's voice cut through the haze of arousal, firm but not angry.
Akeno broke the kiss with obvious reluctance, pulling away with a last, lingering moan that was definitely performative. "Mou," she pouted, her lips swollen and glistening. "You always interrupt at the good parts, Rias."
"Because if I didn't, you'd have him on the ground in thirty seconds," Rias replied dryly.
Akeno's pout transformed into a sly smile. "Would that be so terrible?"
"In the middle of the Quidditch pitch? Yes."
I was trying very hard to get my breathing under control. And other things.
"I'm good, you don't have to kiss me, Harry-sama," Tsubaki said from somewhere to my left, her tone dry and faintly amused. When I glanced over, she was watching the scene with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, but her cheeks were also bright pink.
A few feet away, Rossweisse was muttering something under her breath, her silver hair falling across her face as she looked anywhere but directly at us. I caught fragments of it— "...handsome devil prince... kiss her like that... so unfair..." Then, louder, she turned to her younger sister. "Hey, Lilja, what do you think about sharing with big sis—"
I decided very firmly to pretend I hadn't heard that.
Clearing my throat, I turned back to Rias, grateful for the excuse to focus on something other than the increasingly dangerous territory my thoughts had been wandering into. "So," I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended, "what did you want to do about the dragon?"
Rias's expression shifted into something more serious. She bit her lower lip and glanced over at the massive black form still lying unconscious on the pitch. "I've been thinking," she said slowly, as if testing each word before releasing it. "About what I said earlier. About giving it a chance." She paused, gathering herself. "I want to try adding it to my peerage."
The statement hung in the air for a moment.
"Your peerage?" Sona repeated, skepticism evident in her tone. "Rias, that thing is enormous. The amount of Evil Pieces required to reincarnate something of that size and power would be—"
"All 8 of my remaining Pawns," Rias confirmed quietly. "I know. I've thought about it" She lifted her chin, meeting Sona's gaze steadily.
I studied my fiancée's face—the determination in her eyes as she glanced between myself, Sona, and the black dragon.
"I think you should go for it," I said, knowing it would take a lot of work but she was determined if nothing else.
Rias's eyes widened slightly. "You do?"
"You've done amazing work with the rest of your peerage," I told her honestly. "Akeno, Koneko, Gasper, Kiba—they're all loyal to you because you earned that loyalty. Because you saw them as people, not pieces." I gestured toward the dragon. "If anyone can reach whatever's buried inside that thing, it's you."
The smile that spread across Rias's face was like watching the sun emerge from behind clouds. Bright and warm and absolutely radiant. "Thank you, Harry," she said softly. "That means more than you know!"
Before I could respond, the air between us suddenly erupted in a flash of brilliant pink light!
I threw up an arm instinctively, my free hand already summoning water to my fingertips, but the light faded almost immediately, revealing a figure I recognized all too well.
Serafall stood in the center of our group, having apparently materialized directly between us without any warning whatsoever!
"There you both are!" she declared, reaching out to grab both mine and Sona's hands before either of us could react. Her grip, her fingers interlacing with ours in a way that made escape impossible.
Sona made a strangled sound of alarm. "Nee-sama! What are you—"
"I've taken care of everything with Mommy and Daddy," Serafall continued, completely ignoring her younger sister's protest. Her smile widened into something that made my pulse quicken. "All the political stuff, the cleanup coordination, the boring adult responsibilities—all handled! Which means we're completely free to celebrate our amazing victory together!" She practically vibrated with anticipation. "No more interruptions, no more emergencies, no more inconvenient timing! Just the three of us!"
"Nee-sama!" Sona's face had gone completely crimson, her eyes darting frantically between Serafall and the other girls who were watching the scene with varying degrees of amusement and interest. "What are you talking about?!"
"There's no time to waste!" Serafall declared, cutting off Sona's increasingly incoherent protests. The ground beneath our feet began to glow with the telltale light of a teleportation circle, intricate patterns of pink and blue energy spreading outward from where she stood. "We need to celebrate properly, and that requires privacy and comfort and a very large bed!"
"Wait—" I started.
But it was too late. The teleportation magic flared brilliant white, the ruined Quidditch pitch and everyone around us vanished in an instant, and suddenly we were somewhere else entirely.
– Serafall –
Serafall couldn't stop grinning as the teleportation light faded around them, depositing all three of them in the familiar luxury of her personal bedroom in Sitri Manor. The Underworld's eternal twilight filtered through gossamer curtains, casting everything in soft purple and gold. Her massive bed—custom commissioned, large enough for an orgy, silk sheets imported from the Phenex territory's finest weavers—dominated the center of the room.
"Nee-sama, what—" Sona started, but Serafall was already moving.
She grabbed both of them—one hand fisting in Harry's ruined shirt, the other catching Sona's wrist—and threw them onto the bed with strength that belied her petite frame. They landed in a tangle of limbs, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress, twin expressions of shock on their beautiful faces.
Perfect.
Serafall stood at the foot of the bed, drinking in the sight of them. Her precious So-tan, cheeks still flushed from that kiss on the Quidditch pitch, glasses askew and violet eyes wide behind them. And Harry-kun—her Harry-kun—shirt hanging open to reveal that sculpted chest, his blue eyes darkening with something that made heat pool low in her belly.
They were both staring at her now. Watching. Waiting.
Good.
The last time she had tried to have a proper celebration with Harry-kun and So-tan in his Hogwarts dorm room, they had been so close. She'd had Sona naked and blushing, Harry hard and wanting, and then that bitch Katerea had gone and interrupted them!
"The battle is won," Serafall announced, her voice dropping into something huskier than her usual bubbly tone. She could already feel the slick heat between her thighs, her body responding to weeks—no, months—of anticipation finally reaching its breaking point. "The Fallen Angels are dead or captured. I've dumped all the boring paperwork on Behe-tan and Mom and Daddy." Her grin widened, sharp and hungry. "Which means there is nothing and no one left to interrupt us." She saw the moment understanding dawned in Sona's eyes. Her little sister's blush deepened impossibly further, spreading down her neck to disappear beneath the collar of her uniform. "Now we're going to celebrate properly. The three of us. Together."
"Nee-sama, this is—we can't—" Sona's protest was getting weaker with each word, her pink eyes wide behind her glasses as she stared at Serafall. But she wasn't moving away. Wasn't teleporting out or demanding to leave. She was just sitting there on the bed beside Harry, trembling slightly, her thighs pressed together.
Serafall had known her little sister her entire life. She could read every micro-expression, every tiny tell. And right now, So-tan was desperate even if she wouldn't admit it.
"Watch me, So-tan," Serafall whispered, and slowly—slowly—brought her hands up to the pink bow at her throat.
She untied it with deliberate care, letting the ribbon flutter to the floor. Then her fingers moved to the tiny buttons of her costume's bodice, popping them open one by one. The air in the room felt thick and charged, heavy with magic and anticipation and the sharp scent of her arousal.
Harry's breathing had gone shallow. Sona had stopped protesting entirely.
She let the top fall.
The cool air of the bedroom kissed her bare breasts, and she heard Harry's sharp intake of breath. Felt his eyes on her like a physical touch, tracing the curves she'd been teasing him with for months. Her nipples were already stiff, aching for attention, and she cupped her own breasts briefly—just to watch his reaction.
His cock was visibly straining against his pants. Delicious.
"Like what you see, Harry-kun?" she purred, sliding her hands down her own body, fingers trailing over her flat stomach toward the waistband of her skirt. "I've been thinking about this moment since I first found out I had a son. Since I first saw you standing in that goblin bank, all confused and beautiful and mine."
The skirt dropped next, pooling around her ankles. She hadn't bothered with underwear—hadn't worn any in centuries, really, when her costume was already so revealing—and now she stood before them completely naked.
Serafall knew she was beautiful. Not in the modest, downplayed way that proper noble ladies pretended to be unaware of their appeal, but in the honest, shameless acknowledgment of a devil who had spent millennia perfecting her form. Her body was petite but perfectly proportioned, curves in all the right places, skin smooth and pale as fresh snow. The neat strip of dark hair between her legs was already glistening with arousal.
"And you, So-tan..." She turned her attention to her sister, watching the way Sona's throat worked as she swallowed. "My precious little sister. I've wanted to do this with you for years. But you were always so proper, so controlled, so determined to keep me at arm's length." She crawled onto the bed, stalking toward them on hands and knees like a predator approaching prey. "But I've seen the way you look at Harry-kun. I've seen the way you've been opening up since he came into our lives."
She was between them now, close enough to feel the heat radiating from both their bodies. Harry on her left, Sona on her right. Both frozen, watching her with wide eyes and quickened breathing.
"You love him," Serafall murmured, reaching out to cup Sona's cheek with one hand while her other hand pressed flat against Harry's chest, feeling his heart pound beneath her palm. "And I love him. And we both love each other, even if you're too stubborn to admit it out loud, So-tan." She leaned in, her lips brushing against Sona's ear. "So why are we still pretending this isn't exactly what all three of us want?"
And then she was kissing her sister. Sona's lips parted and her tongue met Serafall's in a wet, desperate slide.
Serafall kissed her sister deep and thorough, pouring years of wanting into the press of lips and tangle of tongues. Her hands were already moving, finding the buttons of Sona's uniform blouse and working them open with practiced efficiency. She felt Sona gasp into her mouth as cool air hit newly exposed skin.
But she couldn't ignore Harry-kun for long.
Breaking the kiss with a wet sound that made Sona whimper in protest, Serafall turned and captured Harry's mouth next. He was ready for her this time, his hand coming up to fist in her long hair as he kissed her back with a hunger that made her moan. His tongue was bolder than Sona's, more demanding, and she loved it. She could taste the lingering traces of all the other girls he'd kissed tonight, and rather than making her jealous, it only made her hotter. Her son was a devil, after all. Greedy and insatiable and hers.
Sona's lips were just as soft as the last time Serafall had kissed them, weeks ago in Harry's dorm room before that bitch Katerea had interrupted. Serafall savored it like the finest wine as she deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding against her sister's with slow, deliberate strokes. One hand stayed buried in Harry's hair, keeping him close even as she devoted her full attention to making Sona melt. She could feel the younger devil trembling, her breath coming in soft, helpless gasps against Serafall's mouth.
When she finally pulled back, Sona's glasses were fogged and her pink eyes had gone hazy with arousal. Beautiful.
"So-tan," Serafall purred, reaching up to carefully remove those glasses and set them on the nightstand, "you're so tense. Let Nee-sama help you relax, okay?"
"This is—we shouldn't—" Sona tried one more time, but her protest died when Serafall's fingers found the clasp of her bra.
"Shh." Serafall unhooked it with practiced ease and slowly peeled the fabric away, revealing Sona's modest breasts. They were perfect—smaller than her own or Harry's other lovers', but beautifully shaped, topped with dusty pink nipples that were already stiff with arousal. "No more thinking. No more being the responsible Sitri heiress. Tonight you're just So-tan. My precious little sister who I love more than anything."
Sona made a sound that might have been a sob or a moan, and then Serafall was kissing her again, swallowing whatever protest had been forming.
Her other hand never left Harry. She could feel him watching them, his breathing ragged, his cock already straining against his ruined pants. The fabric was torn enough that she could see the outline of him—thick and hard and ready—and it made her mouth water.
Breaking the kiss with Sona, Serafall turned her attention to Harry's pants. Her fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, and she helped him shove the tattered fabric down his hips.
His cock sprang free, already rock-hard and glistening at the tip, and Serafall let out a low, appreciative moan.
"Look at you," she breathed, wrapping one hand around his length and giving it a slow stroke that made him hiss. "So big and hard for me already. Such a good boy, Harry-kun."
While she stroked him with lazy, teasing movements, her other hand moved to Sona's skirt. The heiress of House Sitri had gone completely still, her chest heaving with rapid breaths as Serafall worked the fabric down her hips along with the sensible cotton panties beneath.
And then they were both naked. Her two favorite people in all the underworld, laid bare before her on silk sheets that cost more than most devils made in a year!
Serafall pulled back just enough to really look at them.
Harry's lean muscle and sculpted lines, his body honed by training and enhanced by his devil nature. Scars from the battles marked his skin—nothing permanent, but still fresh enough to remind her that he'd been in danger, that she'd almost lost him before she ever got to have this.
His cock jutted proudly from a neat thatch of dark hair, thick and beautiful and hers.
And Sona... oh, her precious So-tan. Slim and elegant even in nakedness, her pale skin flushed with embarrassment and arousal. Her small breasts rose and fell rapidly, her flat stomach tensing with each breath. Between her legs, a neat triangle of dark hair framed a pussy that was already glistening.
"Perfect," Serafall whispered, and meant it with every fiber of her being. "You're both so perfect it makes me want to cry."
She pressed them both back against the pillows, positioning them side by side. Harry went easily, his blue eyes dark with desire as he watched her. Sona's hands fluttered uselessly, like she wanted to cover herself but couldn't quite manage it.
Serafall's right hand found Harry's cock again, wrapping around the base and giving it a firm stroke that made him groan. Her left hand slid up Sona's inner thigh, feeling the tremor that ran through her sister's body, before her thumb found the swollen bud of her clit.
Both of them gasped.
Serafall grinned, feeling power and love and pure demonic hunger surge through her. "Just relax and let me make you both feel good!"
She started slowly, her hand working Harry's cock with the kind of skill that came from centuries of experience. Up and down, twisting slightly at the head, her thumb swiping over the sensitive tip to gather the precum already beading there. His hips jerked, and she heard him bite back a curse.
At the same time, her thumb traced lazy circles around Sona's clit—not touching it directly yet, just circling and teasing, building the anticipation until her sister was squirming.
"Nee-sama, please—" Sona's voice broke on the word, and Serafall's heart soared.
"Please what, So-tan?" she asked sweetly, pressing down just slightly on that sensitive bundle of nerves. "Use your words."
"I—I can't—" Sona's hips rolled, seeking more pressure, and Serafall gave it to her for just a moment before pulling away again.
"You can," Serafall insisted. "Tell Nee-sama what you want."
"Touch me," Sona finally gasped out, her face burning red. "Please touch me properly."
"Good girl." Serafall rewarded her by sliding two fingers lower, parting her sister's folds and finding her entrance. Sona was soaked, her arousal coating Serafall's fingers as she pushed inside slowly, carefully. Not too far though, she didn't want to accidentally go popping Sona's cherry before Harry's big cock could.
The tight flesh around her fingers made Serafall's own pussy clench in sympathy. Sona's back arched off the bed, a high, keening sound escaping her throat.
"Shh, I've got you," Serafall soothed, pumping her fingers in and out with gentle, shallow thrusts. "Just feel it, So-tan. Let yourself feel good."
Her other hand never stopped moving on Harry's cock. She could feel him getting closer—his breathing had gone ragged, his abs tensing and releasing, his thighs trembling.
Making a decision, Serafall released Harry's cock and leaned down, her face hovering just above Sona's pussy.
"Wait, what are you—oh!" Sona's question dissolved into a sharp cry as Serafall's tongue made contact.
She tasted like perfection! Sweet and musky and utterly Sona, and Serafall moaned against her sister's lower lips as she licked a long, slow stripe from entrance to clit. Her fingers continued their steady rhythm, pumping in and out while her tongue focused on that sensitive bundle of nerves at the top.
Sona's hands flew to Serafall's hair, gripping tight—whether to pull her away or hold her in place, Serafall wasn't sure her sister knew herself. The sounds she was making were completely unguarded, high and desperate and perfect.
Beside them, Harry groaned. "Fuck, that's hot."
Serafall lifted her head just enough to look at him, grinning with her face still buried between Sona's thighs. His cock was twitching, begging for attention, and she couldn't resist anymore.
She pulled her fingers out of Sona—earning a sound of protest—and shifted her position, turning so she could reach Harry's cock with her mouth while her hand took over between Sona's legs. Her thumb found Sona's clit, rubbing firm circles that made her sister's hips jerk, while Serafall wrapped her lips around the head of Harry's cock.
"Fuck—" Harry's hips bucked involuntarily, and Serafall had to hold him down with her free hand as she took him deeper.
He was big, but she'd been practicing for centuries. She relaxed her throat and sank down, inch by inch, until her nose pressed against his pelvis and she could feel him hitting the back of her throat.
The sound Harry made was inhuman.
Serafall pulled back slowly, hollowing her cheeks and applying suction that made his entire body tense. Then she did it again. And again. Building a steady rhythm that had him gasping and cursing and fisting his hands in the silk sheets.
Her hand between Sona's legs matched that rhythm. Three fingers inside now, stretching her sister open while her thumb worked her clit with firm, deliberate pressure. She could feel Sona getting close—her inner walls clenching around Serafall's fingers, her thighs trembling.
Releasing Harry's cock with a wet pop, Serafall switched again. Her mouth dove back between Sona's thighs while her hand—slick with her sister's arousal—wrapped around Harry's length.
"Oh Maou, oh MAOU, Nee-sama—" Sona was babbling now, all composure shattered. "I can't—it's too much—"
"Yes you can," Serafall murmured against her pussy before sealing her lips around Sona's clit and sucking.
Sona screamed! Her entire body went rigid, back arching impossibly as her orgasm slammed into her.
Serafall felt it, the way her pussy clenched around nothing now that her fingers had withdrawn, the flood of wetness against her tongue, the way Sona's thighs tried to close around her head. She drank it down eagerly, licking and sucking through every aftershock until Sona was whimpering and pushing weakly at her head.
"Too—too sensitive—"
"My turn," Harry groaned, and Serafall looked up to find him staring at her with desperate, hungry eyes.
She grinned and turned her full attention to his cock. This time, she didn't tease. She took him deep and fast, bobbing her head with the kind of single-minded focus that came from wanting this. Wanting to make him fall apart. Wanting to taste him. Wanting to prove that she could take care of both her precious people and make them feel so good they forgot everything else!
Her hand joined her mouth, stroking what she couldn't fit while she sucked hard on the head. Her tongue traced the thick vein on the underside, swirled around the tip, dipped into the slit to taste the precum steadily leaking.
"Mum—fuck—I'm gonna—"
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hand still working his cock, and whispered, "Cum for me, Harry-kun. Give Mama everything."
That did it!
Harry's cock pulsed in her hand, and she barely got her mouth back on him before the first spurt of cum hit her tongue. Hot and thick and perfect, filling her mouth as she swallowed eagerly. But there was so much—more than she could take—and it overflowed, spilling onto her face and dripping down onto her breasts.
She moaned around him, continuing to suck and stroke through every pulse until he was gasping and oversensitive, pushing weakly at her head.
When she finally released him, she sat back on her heels and looked at them both. Harry sprawled boneless against the pillows, his chest heaving. Sona was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes glazed.
And Serafall herself, face and breasts covered in Harry's cum, Sona's taste still coating her tongue, had never felt more satisfied in her entire immortal life.
"That," she announced, her voice husky and proud, "was just the warm-up."
– Harry –
Her words—just the warm-up—barely had time to register before Mum was moving, crawling up my body with that predatory grace that made my breath catch. I stared, helpless to do anything else, as she straddled my hips.
Fuck, she was perfect.
My cum still glistened on her face and breasts, little droplets catching the purple-gold light filtering through the curtains. Her pale skin was flushed pink with arousal, her nipples stiff and begging for attention, and between her legs I could see her hairless pussy—already wet and swollen and ready.
Her soft ass cheeks settled against my thighs, and the weight of her was enough to make my recently-spent cock twitch with renewed interest. I felt her pussy pressing directly against my shaft, coating me in her arousal as she rocked forward slightly.
My cock was still aching, still hard despite having just exploded down her throat. Devil stamina was no joke.
The last time we'd been in this position—in my Hogwarts dorm room with Sona naked beside us—we'd been interrupted by Katerea fucking Leviathan and a stray devil attack. But looking into Mum's eyes now, seeing the raw hunger and love and determination burning there, I knew nothing was going to stop us this time.
Nothing.
Serafall reached down between us, her small hand wrapping around my cock and angling it upward. She rose up on her knees, and I watched—completely mesmerized—as she positioned herself directly above me. Her pink pussy lips hovered just inches above my tip.
"I'm going first," Mum announced, glancing sideways at Sona with a grin that was equal parts playful and possessive. "And then I'll be very happy to watch So-tan lose her virginity on Harry-kun's big, thick cock right after me."
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might break through. The casual way she said it—like it was already decided, like watching her little sister get fucked by her son was the most natural thing in the world—sent a bolt of pure lust straight through me.
Beside us, Sona made a strangled sound. When I managed to tear my eyes away from the sight of Mum's pussy hovering over my cock, I saw my aunt's face had gone absolutely crimson. Her pink eyes were wide behind her missing glasses, her hands clutching at the silk sheets, her modest breasts rising and falling rapidly.
She looked terrified and aroused in equal measure, and fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever seen.
But then Mum started to sink down, and every other thought evaporated.
The first touch of her pussy lips against my cock made us both gasp. Hot and wet and impossibly soft, her entrance kissed the tip of me before slowly—torturously slowly—beginning to spread around my girth. I felt myself begin to push inside, felt her inner walls stretch to accommodate me, and the sensation was so intense I had to grip her hips just to ground myself.
"Oh fuck—" The curse ripped from my throat as she took another inch. Then another.
She was tight. So fucking tight that for a moment I worried I might be hurting her, but the expression on Mum's face wasn't pain—it was pure, concentrated bliss. Her eyes had fluttered half-closed, her lips parted around soft, breathy moans, and she kept sinking lower.
More of my cock disappeared inside her. The wet heat of her pussy swallowed me inch by inch, her walls gripping me like a velvet vise, and I could actually see the way her lower lips stretched around my thickness. The visual alone nearly made me cum right then.
"You feel—" I couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't find words for how absolutely incredible she felt wrapped around me.
"Amazing?" Mum supplied, her voice coming out breathy and smug. She settled the last inch, and suddenly I was fully sheathed inside her—buried to the hilt in her pussy. "This is the pussy of a Maou, Harry-kun! Very few devils have ever gotten to experience it."
Even as she bragged, I felt her do something with her internal muscles—a deliberate squeeze that made her already-tight channel clench around my cock like a fist. The sensation was so intense my back arched off the bed, a guttural groan tearing from my chest.
"Hehe!" The sound was pure Serafall, playful and proud and utterly delighted with herself.
Then she started to move.
Slowly at first, just rolling her hips in small circles that made me feel every inch of her wrapped around me. Then she lifted up, rising until just the tip of my cock remained inside her before sinking back down in one smooth, devastating motion.
I was already losing my mind, and she'd barely started.
"Nee-sama—" Sona's voice was small and shaky from beside us.
Mum turned her head, still riding me with those slow, deliberate movements, and smiled at her sister. "Watch carefully, So-tan. I want you to see exactly how to make Harry-kun feel good when it's your turn!"
She kept bouncing on my cock, and already—already—this was some of the best sex I'd ever had. And we'd barely started.
Every downward thrust sent pleasure spiking through my entire body, her pussy gripping me like it was made for this, hot and slick and impossibly tight. The wet sounds of our bodies meeting filled the room, punctuated by her breathy moans and my increasingly desperate groans.
"I've waited for a day like this for so long," she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion.
My hands couldn't stay still. I ran them up her sides, feeling the curves of her waist, the way her skin was fever-hot under my palms. I squeezed her ass cheeks as she lifted up, kneading the firm flesh and helping to pull her back down onto my cock. She gasped at the pressure, her inner walls clenching around me.
"Fuck—" I groaned, sliding my hands higher to cup her breasts. They fit perfectly in my palms despite being bigger than most of the girls in my harem so far, and when I brushed my thumbs over her stiff nipples, she shuddered and picked up her pace.
"That's it, Harry-kun," she moaned, arching into my touch. Her hips rolled faster now, taking me deeper with each stroke. "Touch me everywhere. I'm all yours!"
I did. I couldn't help myself. My hands roamed over every inch of her—tracing the flat plane of her stomach, feeling the flex of her abs as she moved, sliding back to grip her ass again before traveling up to squeeze her breasts. She was perfect. Every part of her was perfect, and she was mine!
"Oh, So-tan," Mum gasped, turning her head to look at my aunt even as she continued fucking herself on my cock. "You're going to love this so much! Harry-kun's cock fills you up just right—stretches you until you can't think about anything else!" She punctuated her words with a particularly deep thrust that made us both cry out!
Beside us, Sona was still trembling, her face flushed and her thighs pressed tightly together. But she wasn't looking away. Her pink eyes were locked on where the two of us were joined, watching my cock disappear inside her sister over and over, and I could see the arousal glistening between her legs.
"In just a few minutes," Mum continued breathlessly, "you'll be right here—riding him just like this—and you'll understand why I've been so obsessed!" She leaned forward slightly, changing the angle, and we both groaned at the new sensation. "You'll feel him stretching you open, filling every inch of you, and you'll never want anything else!"
"Nee-sama—" Sona's voice broke on the word, half protest and half pleading.
But Mum just grinned, wild and beautiful and completely unrepentant. Then she looked down at me, and something shifted in her expression. The playfulness didn't disappear entirely, but beneath it I saw hunger—raw and desperate and barely controlled.
"Harry-kun," she breathed, her movements becoming more erratic, more urgent. "I need—I need you to—"
She didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she planted her hands on my chest for leverage and started really moving.
The change was immediate and devastating. Where before she'd been riding me with slow, deliberate strokes designed to tease and prolong, now she was slamming herself down on my cock with desperate, almost violent force! Each impact sent shockwaves through both our bodies, her ass slapping against my thighs, her breasts bouncing with the momentum!
"Fuck—yes—" I couldn't form coherent sentences anymore. My hands found her hips and I helped drive her down harder, meeting her thrusts with upward drives of my own that made her scream.
"I want to feel it!" she cried out, her voice high and needy. "I want to feel you squirt inside me, Harry-kun! Fill Mama up—please—I need your cum so badly!"
The combination of her words and the absolutely brutal pace she'd set was destroying me. I could feel my orgasm building at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up tight, every muscle in my body tensing as I got closer and closer to the edge.
"Mum—I'm gonna—"
"Yes! Yes, give it to me!" She was practically bouncing on my cock now, her pussy clenching around me with each thrust. "Cum inside of me, Harry! Show So-tan how much you can fill me up!"
That did it. My orgasm slammed into me, and I roared as I started cumming! Thick ropes of it pumped into her, and I felt it—felt myself flooding her pussy with so much cum that it started leaking out around my cock even as she continued riding me through every pulse.
"Yes—oh Maou, yes—so much—" Mum's words dissolved into incoherent cries as her own orgasm hit. Her pussy clamped down on me like a vise, milking every last drop from my cock as her entire body shook with the force of her climax.
We stayed like that for several long moments—her collapsed forward onto my chest, both of us gasping for breath, my softening cock still buried inside her and my cum leaking out to make a mess of the silk sheets beneath us.
"That was—" I tried to speak, but my brain wasn't working properly yet.
"Perfect," Mum finished for me, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw. "That was perfect, Harry-kun."
Then, with visible effort, she lifted herself off me. My cock slipped free with a wet sound, and I watched—mesmerized—as a flood of my cum poured out of her used pussy, painting her inner thighs white.
Serafall turned to Sona, who was staring at us with wide eyes and parted lips, clearly overwhelmed by what she'd just witnessed. "Your turn, So-tan," Mum said with a wicked grin, even as she was still catching her breath. "Come get your cheery popped on your nephew's cock. I promise you'll love every second of it!"
XXX