This is a work of fan fiction. All characters are the properties of their respective owners. I own the story line. Chapter 15- Here We Go Again George looked down at the dozing forms of Fred and Lavender, and thought about waking them up. Fred was so cute as the little spoon in front of Lavender, who had her leg draped over his hip.
He would love to have had a picture of it to save for later when Fred was feeling all cocksure of himself and saying how he would never stoop to being the little spoon. They both knew it was poppycock of course, but a little evidence never hurt anyone.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, recovering the evidence of last year's birthday party had cost Weasley's Wheezes and its subsidiary, Weasel's Wicked Wonders, all of their first and second quarter profits.
Fortunately, Madelaine's was making enough profit by then to keep lights on and food in the house. Besides, they all agreed that not having evidence where some unscrupulous person, like Penelope, could find it was the best policy.
He glanced at the clock and hoped someone had laid out the lunch spread by now. Granted, they had a late breakfast, but that was over three hours ago and he'd had a pretty energetic morning. He decided to let them sleep and wandered toward the kitchen.
The first thing he noticed when he walked in was the note on the refrigerator that was addressed to him. He didn't immediately recognize the slightly spiky script, but it was definitely a girl's handwriting; and since he didn't recognize the style that also narrowed the field of who it could be from, which meant that it probably wouldn't explode when he opened it.
George, come find me when you get this. I'm probably taking a nap. HW George stuck the note in his pocket and opened the fridge. There was a tray of turkey sandwiches on the second shelf along with a veggie tray. There were days when he wished Angelina wasn't quite so health conscious; he could really go for a pizza or sausages or something bad for him; it wasn't like he wasn't going to burn it off anyway.
He grabbed a sandwich and rooted around until he found a bottle of Lee's homebrew. Say what you would about their menus, they never lacked for good beer as long as Lee was around. He was finishing his sandwich and opening his beer when Lee strolled into the kitchen between Fleur and Alicia.
"Don't drink too much of that," Lee warned him. "That's the bourbon barrel stout. I gravity tested it a couple of days ago, it's about 16%; and you know what the bard says about booze." "It giveth the desire and taketh away the ability," George replied at the questioning looks from the girls. "That would be bad," he agreed. "Thanks for the warning." He leaned up and kissed his wife as she bent down to him. "I need the bedroom tonight," she said and flicked her tongue across his ear.
"What kind of plans you got?" he asked with a lewd wink. "I'm going to try and track down Ron, Bill, and Hermione for a foursome. We started one last night in the hot tub, but I wanted your little brother all to myself and I don't think that she was ready for anything more adventurous than Bill at the time." "I take it you and Ron got on well last night." "We got off well," she said with a wicked smile.
"He has a much greater appreciation for Whitesnake now, too." "You finally got Ronniekins into your bed and all you could do was listen to Whitesnake. I'm so disappointed in him." She slapped his shoulder as she sat down in his lap and took a drink of his beer.
"I put 'Slide It In' on infinite repeat." He pinched her bum for stealing his beer. "Good choice, I like you slow and easy." He took another drink of his beer and offered her the last bite of his sandwich, which she declined.
"I'm about to go find Hermione, you want to come with me so you can talk to her." He showed her the note, and a wicked smile crossed her face. "I almost wish I could be there to see that." She ignored his question about what. "Just tell her I'll talk to her at dinner." She gave him a long, lingering kiss.
"You'll have to tell me about it afterward." Then she pulled him out of his chair, stole his beer, and sent him down the hall with a pat on the butt. After a brief stop by his room, George knocked quietly on the door to Ron and Hermione's room. He listened, but there was no sound coming from inside. He carefully opened the door and peeked in. He was relieved to see that the bed was occupied, and from what he could see it was only Hermione. He reached in to his pocket and removed the white string like object.
He pointed his wand at it and whispered, "Draco Dormiens Titillandus." The white cord uncoiled, slithered out of his hand and dropped to the floor. Once he saw that it had nosed its way under the duvet he closed the door and leaned against the wall. He began to count backward from five.
When he reached zero a shriek pierced the silence. He smiled to himself. "Stop it, stop!" Hermione shrieked, then squealed inarticulately and howled with laughter. This went on for another half-minute or so.
"George, you grea- aiee, that tickles, stop!" She was shrieking and laughing. "George!" Her shriek was desperate and breathless. He finally decided she'd had enough and yanked the door open. "You called?" he said trying to sound out of breath from running. Hermione was sitting on floor on the far side of her bed with her back against the night stand. When he came around the bed she was trying to keep her feet away from what appeared to be an eight inch long piece of heavy string.
He dove across the bed and grabbed the string which immediately fell limp. He couldn't help but notice that she had very pretty feet, but her toenails needed a good polish or buffing.
"You," he took two great gasping breaths, "okay?" "Don't you play the gallant hero with me you knave," she accused him after she finally caught her breath. He gave her his best look of wide-eyed innocence.
She crossed her arms and leveled her best Prosecutor's stare at him. He broke first and began to guffaw loudly. "You are horrible," she said, "what was that?" "Apparently you had a loose string in your bed," he replied, the grin on his face betraying his lie. He finally broke down and told her about his latest experiment, an enchanted string that sought out the nearest sleeping person and tickled their feet.
He hadn't come up with a good name yet, but he'd figure it out soon enough. When he asked her why she hadn't gone for her wand she admitted that it was in the bathroom and when she tried to go around the string it would move like a snake and strike at her feet.
"I've half a mind to rescind my invitation," she threatened him as he helped her up off the floor. "Let me make it up to you." He bowed floridly without releasing her hand and bent his head to kiss her fingers. "I'll give you a foot massage to make good girls weep and bad girls swoon." "And which do you expect me to do?" "Two days ago I would have said weep, but we could hear Ginny's screams in the great room last night." Hermione blushed a bit and dipped her head.
"Maybe you will still cry," he said with a lecherous smile. She drew breath as though to retort but settled for smacking him on the arm. "Meet me in the garage in twenty minutes. Sit in the driver's seat of your jaguar and open the sun roof." "Alright," he said cautiously.
George was very confused now. Alicia had insisted that they use his beloved white 1988 Jaguar XJ6 to transport the food and other incidentals they were going to need for the weekend rather than Apparating as they normally would.
He was also surprised to see that the garage had been cleaned when they brought it up Thursday night. It seemed his wife and his sister-in-law were in cahoots. "Do I need to bring anything other than me?" "A jar of your best foot lotion." She smiled and shooed him out of her room.
Seventeen minutes after leaving Hermione's room, and three minutes after finally convincing Fred that he didn't need a wing-man for this date, George slid into the driver's seat of his greatest material treasure. When he bought it he had no idea what to look for in a car, except that Tawny Kitaen had rolled around on the hood of one just like this and it had been the sexiest thing he had ever seen.
Over the years he had learned a bit about how to maintain it and had even taught his father about what he learned. He had, however, steadfastly refused to let his father cast a flying charm on it.
As long as it didn't fly or magically squeeze between other cars and buildings, Fred would refuse to drive it. He settled into the rich leather seat and ran his hands around the polished wood and chrome steering wheel. He turned the key to the accessory setting and opened the sun roof. He laughed to himself as he remembered the time that Fred had stuck his head up through it as they were speeding down the M53 and caught a mouthful of bird shite.
Suddenly the lights went out and the entire garage was cast into darkness. He waited a moment to see if they would come back on; when they didn't, he turned on his headlights.
In front of his car was a vision in a sheer white dress. She stood with her back to him, her feet about shoulder width apart and her hands at her side. Her light brown hair cascaded down her back as she looked skyward; the edges of her hair catching just enough light to be almost like a halo. A thin fog began to cascade off the workbench and spill across the floor. When the opening synthesizer notes filled the garage she began to twirl and his dick was instantly hard.
As she spun she sat down on the hood, then suddenly she was facing him through the windshield with her legs spread in a split and her dress floating down to cover only one leg. He barely had time to notice before she turned and rolled over, her legs spread wide apart and he caught the briefest glance of lacy white knickers before her gossamer-like dress settled back down over her. Again she turned and rolled and she was facing him. He watched, hungry with desire for her, as she slid forward, her breasts pressed to the windscreen; she wasn't wearing a bra beneath the thin material.
He turned on the high beams for a little more light, and it diffused in the gathering fog, giving the room an ethereal glow. He knew this song was four minutes and twenty-three seconds long, but he wasn't sure if it would last forever or be over in a flash.
He watched, enraptured, as she continued to roll, spin, and slide around on the hood of his car. In a small corner of his mind he wondered if it would be appropriate to enshrine it so that his moment would never be lost.
As the guitar began to cry out its solo, she slid off the hood and began to spin. Her dress rose and revealed that her hips were covered with just the briefest of material, that her legs were long for her height, that she had narrow hips, and a nearly flat stomach. Then the solo died and she stepped up onto the bumper than back on the hood.
As the repeated chorus reached its crescendo and began to fall off, she kicked one foot up and rested it on the lip of the sun roof. She pushed off her with other leg and, just as the song ended, she perched herself where her foot had been and let her legs dangle down in to the car.
"That was amazing," he said as he lifted the front of her skirt and nuzzled between her spread legs. The singer told the uncaring couple that in the still of the night, the wolf howled and came round your door. "I'm glad," she panted, a bit out of breath, "that you liked it." She let out a soft cooing sound as he continued to nuzzle her and his thumb began to stroke along the gusset of her knickers.
"Mind if I join you?" He backed away and let her drop the rest of the way into the car. She scampered between the seats; once she was settled in the back she grabbed him by the shirt and began to haul him back with her. Once he was sprawled in the back as well, she climbed on top of him. "I've never had sex in a car," she whispered in his ear, then her tongue flicked out and his arousal spiked again. "You won't be able to say that again," he promised in a rough whisper and ran his hands up her thighs.
Her arse was small and firm, maybe even a bit boney, but he didn't care. Right now she was his dream girl, and she wanted him almost as much he wanted her. "Then gimme all your love tonight," she said and laughed wickedly in his ear as she rose up and pulled his head between her breasts. He pulled her dress open, careful not damage it, and gazed upon her chest for only the briefest of moments before dipping his head and drawing her nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard on her as his hand caressed the other.
He was out of his mind for her. He didn't know if she was really into role-play, or if she had just stumbled into it. Alicia hadn't said anything about it after the coven, but the questions hadn't been exhaustive from what he knew of it, and he knew Alicia held back a fair amount of information as well. He decided to go for it, forgiveness might be easier than permission, and he didn't want either one of them thinking about it too hard.
He worked his way up her chest and along her neck looking for that one spot. He found one at the base of her neck nestled against her collarbone, but every woman had that spot.
He worked his way on up her neck, and about an inch below her ear he drug his teeth across her skin and she nearly came unglued on him. He sucked on the area and swirled his tongue against it, he was going to leave a hickey there that would cover half her neck if he had his way. She grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him back. Their tongues wrestled as they kissed, and she cooed as he kneaded and stroked her arse.
When he slipped a finger under her knickers, she was damp, warm, and vocal. "Tawny," he moaned as they broke apart, "I want you so bad." He turned and lifted slightly. She fell back into the seat and nestled in the corner of the seat and the door frame.
"Then come take me," she replied with a smile.
He didn't so much crawl as lunge as he moved between her legs and kissed her again. He ran a hand up to tangle his fingers in her hair. It was softer than he thought it would be, but voluminous enough to really give him something to hold on to.
"Oh, the things I'm going to do to you Tawny." He used her body to hold him up as he reached between her legs and fumbled his way past the hem of her skirt.
"Feel how hard I am for you." She took his hint and began to pull his shorts off. He finally got past all the interfering material of her dress and found what he was looking for. "Lift up," he growled as he wrapped his hand around the gusset of her knickers.
When he yanked them down he wasn't particularly gentle, and it took him more than one try, but once he got them down to her knees, he pulled them off one leg but didn't worry about the other.
He brought his hand back up and cupped her mound. She was hot, and a bit wet. He drug his finger along her slit and got a bit of her on his finger; this he swirled around so that she was much more lubricated, then he shoved his finger into her. "Fucking amazing," he said, his breath ragged with want and desire as she ran her cool hands along his length and played with his balls.
"Need more hands; I want to touch you everywhere." He slipped a second finger into her for just a second, and then pulled out so that he could grab her hip and slide it closer to the edge of the seat.
He realized he was shaking slightly as he bunched up the front of her skirt. He glanced down and saw that her bush was a lighter shade of brown as well, darker than her hair but not dark like his wife's. "Guide me in," he instructed her as he lowered his hips. He spread her legs a bit further with one leg and the opposite hand. She rubbed the head of his cock across her opening and he thought he might just cum right there. He got control of himself though, and leaned into her.
"Oh fuck," he moaned as sank deep into her. "Tawny, your pussy is so fucking hot." He untangled the hand from her hair and braced himself against the door frame. With the other hand he grabbed her leg and lifted it slightly so that he could push deeper into her. She let out a long low moan and ran her nails up his back.
He let go of her leg and wrapped his arm around her lower back. It was then that he discovered the best thing about sex in the back seat of a car. He planted his feet against bottom of the door and started to pound her with his whole body. His legs, his back, the arm braced against the door frame, were all jus there to help him fuck her harder.
She sank her nails into his back and wrapped one leg around him. Her mouth grabbed his and it felt like she was sucking the very life out of him. He broke away and breathed hard against her neck. She wrapped her mouth around his neck and began to suck as she kissed and nibbled him. She was going to leave a huge mark and he didn't much care as long as he just go to keep fucking her like this. It hadn't been long, and he could feel the orgasm coming, but he couldn't slow down now.
"I'm going to fill your pussy, Tawny, and then I'm going to keep right on fucking you sensele-" he broke off in an inarticulate growl as his balls felt like they were exploding.
Good to his word though, he kept right on pumping her. He figured he might get another minute, but then he didn't sag so he kept right on going. His body began to rebel, and he had to slow down. He could feel the cramp building in his calf, so he planted his foot on the floor and stretched the calf- it also altered his angle of penetration.
"Right there," she moaned. "Right. There. Not too fast. Longer." She began to pant, so he sped up, but she told him to slow down.
"The long build," she said with a smile. When he was all the way forward and stroking out her face scrunched up and she gripped him with everything she had. It wasn't quite as solid as a hand, definitely a lot slicker, but it still felt good. He took several fairly short strokes that mostly just teased her. She began to beg for more in between panting breaths. He took a long stroke forward, which made her mouth open and draw a deep breath. He went clear to the hilt so that his pubic bone and hair were grinding against her as he rocked his hips from side to side.
"Again," she said as she leaned up to kiss him. She squeezed him all the way out. Her hands abandoned his back and moved between them.
He thought maybe she was going to rub herself off under him. He slid all the back into her before he realized she wasn't stroking herself, she was spreading herself open for him. "Oh, gods," she exclaimed as he pushed up against her. "Keep it right there." She was squeezing him rhythmically in time to the music that filled the garage as she rocked against him. He slid his free hand up her leg, along her hip, up her flank until he found her tit. He wrapped his hand around it and captured her nipple between his thumb and knuckle.
Her voice was lost in a string of incoherent syllables as she humped against him. He flexed his entire body with the purpose of literally driving her into the seat. She broke and let out a long scream that was even louder in the confines of the car. After a moment of this she begged him to let her breathe. He slid most of the way out of her and lifted his body off of her, but he didn't back away completely.
"How flexible are you," he asked as he lightly ran his fingers up and down her thighs. "Reasonably so," she responded, beginning to squirm. "That tickles," she shrieked as she grabbed his wrists.
"What did you have in mind?" "Something like this." He wrapped both arms around her upper thighs and slid her across the seat so that she was lying back as he moved closer to the door. "Bring your legs up, all the way." She extended her legs so that her feet were flat against the roof. It took him a couple of tries to find a comfortable spot and the right angle. He put his hands on the back of her knees so that he bent and spread her legs.
"Guide me in." He closed his eyes sighed with satisfaction as he slid back into her. "You feel so," he drug it out as he pulled almost all the way out and slid all the way back in, "good." He slid his hands along her calves and grasped her ankles. He brought her feet down so that he could nuzzle them.
She had gorgeous feet, he wondered if Ron took care of them for her, or if she did it herself. "You need to shave," she said with a little giggle. He didn't reply, but instead slipped her big toe into his mouth as he began to stroke faster in and out of her.
He took his time kissing and sucking each toe, making sure that none of them were neglected. Meanwhile, his thumbs rubbed over her soles and he cradled her heels in his palms. He stroked faster as he kissed along the tops of her feet.
When she begged him to have mercy on her, he told her not until she came for him again. He stopped concentrating so much on her feet and shifted to giving her a really good fucking. He leaned forward with her legs still under his chest. Her hips elevated slightly off the seat and then he started pounding her for all he was worth. "So close, "he rasped. "Want you to come again." His eyes closed as he tried to remember the seven rules of satisfied customers, but it was too late, to back down now.
He leaned even farther forward and braced himself on the window frame above her head. Her hips came up even higher and he was almost fucking vertically down into her. "Fuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuuck." He opened his eyes just enough to see her grab her tits as she echoed his words and climaxed. He pushed himself up a bit so that she could unfold from beneath him. Her legs flopped down alongside him as he slid out of her with a bit of squelching sound.
They both giggled uncomfortably, then he laughed more genuinely as he leaned down to kiss her. "That was amazing," he murmured as she nuzzled at his neck. She murmured a soft agreement and gave herself over to the tender ministrations of his kisses along her cheeks, neck, shoulders, and chest. She shoved him away though when he blew a raspberry in the hollow of her neck. "I always wondered how you would react to one of those," he said with a sly grin.
"About the same as any girl over the age of six, I would imagine," she said with a smile. "I finally broke Ron of doing that by tickling him every time he did it to me." "That won't work on me, I'm not ticklish." He suddenly jumped up with a shout and banged his head on the low roof of the car. "How did you know about that spot? Alicia swore she didn't tell anyone." He jumped back and squeezed himself against the door as she reached for his ribs again.
He held his hands out in front of himself to block her merciless fingers. "She didn't have to." She wiggled her fingers at him. "Lavender said you all have that spot." "And how would she know?" "That's a very good question," Hermione said with a sly smile. "Why don't you tell me how Lavender would know that?" "I don't kiss and tell," he said placing a pious hand over his heart. Then he leered at her, "I'll make you do much naughtier things to me first." She laughed and slapped at his hands as she sat up and leaned against the opposite door from him.
"If you want something like that, you'll have to earn it first." She extended her legs and lifted one foot. She wiggled her toes at him. "So why don't you grab that bottle of lotion I told you to bring and get to work." "That's low," he replied. He took her foot in his hand as he leaned forward and grabbed the jar out of the console between the seats.
He leaned back against the door as he scooped a bit of the heavy cream out of the jar and began to rub it between his hands to loosen and warm it up. "My wife is supposed to keep my secrets," he said with a tragic look as he bestowed a single kiss on the top her foot. Then he cradled her foot in one hand and rubbed a light layer of lotion over her entire foot with the other. Once that was complete, he began to seriously work. She melted back against the door frame and moaned in ecstasy as he worked muscles large and small in her foot.
He had spent a fair amount of time studying the anatomy of the foot, and his expertise meant that his skill was second to very few. "I hope you weren't upset that I called you another woman's name," he said conversationally as he began to work the first coat into the second foot.
She cooed in response to the work his fingers were doing. "It caught me a bit off guard." Her eyes rolled up as her head dropped back and she made a sound of pure delight or exquisite torture.
"Although I suppose it is kind of a compliment since that was what I was going for." "You did very well. The dancing was very sexy." He worked in silence for a few minutes, then went back to do a second coat on the first foot. She looked a bit surprised, but certainly didn't say no. She had a small callous on the back of her heel that he wanted to work on. Calluses on a woman's foot were an affront to his senses if he had the opportunity to rid them of it.
He would need a few days of repetitive sessions to fix this one, and he didn't think Ron or Alicia would appreciate that. He could show her a couple of tricks to teach Ron though. "You and Ron do much role-playing?" "This was kind of my first. Well, second I guess." He could see that she was almost embarrassed to admit it. He gave her a nod, indicating she should go on. "We used to be a pretty conventional couple, almost boring; especially by the standards of your house." George had to admit, they had a very unique relationship in their house.
The Muggle word was probably poly-amorous, but that didn't really fit.
They were three distinct couples. He and Alicia, Fred and Angelina, and Lee and Katie had all gotten married at the same time in a triple ceremony that seemed as natural as rainfall to the six of them. They were co-equal owners of their house, Swing Town, and they shared pretty equally in the maintenance and expenses. Were it not for the very fluid sleeping arrangements, they would almost be like room-mates. They talked for a bit about how the six of them survived each other, how couples dealt with privacy and disagreement issues, and how they had come to their agreements about sex and relationships.
At a lull in the conversation he asked Hermione about how she had gone from being the straight-laced-little-Miss-rules-follower to where she was now.
"All my life it was always very important for me to define myself, and be very clear about who I was.
I was always the smart one, so I had to make sure everyone knew I was the smart one." She made a bit of a self-depreciating laugh. "It made me pretty insufferable for several years. Ron made that pretty clear to me when we were first years. It took me a long time to forgive him for that bit of unthinking cruelty, even if he did save my life from a troll." George eased back and picked up one of her feet again to begin rubbing it.
He had never really gotten to know Hermione all that well; she was always his younger brother's friend or Ginny's friend. He kept his mouth shut and let her continue.
"I went from being the smart one to being the conscientious one. I was trying to be the conscience of the school, of the department of law, of the ministry. After Ron and I got married, I decided I was the responsible one and he was the fun one. Three or four years ago Ron forced me to realize that I didn't have to be the responsible one; that he was responsible and mature too.
It took me a while to come to grips with that: that I had to stop thinking of him as the goofy one and that I was no longer the only responsible one.
It had defined our relationship in my mind for years, and it made me think that maybe I didn't know who I was in our relationship. I finally realized that I didn't have to be someone, I could just be me, be comfortable in my skin, be an equal part of our relationship, and that it didn't have to be like my parents' relationship." She sighed and raised her leg as he began to work his way up her calf with fresh lotion.
"It took me a very long time to get comfortable with that idea, the idea that I didn't have to be some model of myself, and that our roles had to be clearly defined." She basked in the glory of his hands for a moment before smirking at him. "I had finally come to accept that mine and Ron's relationship could be whatever we wanted it to be when your wife decided to host a New Year's Eve party where I find out all kinds of interesting things.
It all kind of went… screwy… from there. Now, here I am pretending to be some video vixen from the eighties and having sex in the back seat of your car." Her laughter was golden and rich, and he was caught up in it as well. "Once I was free of constraining my definition of myself and my marriage, I found I could be anyone I wanted to be anytime I wanted to be.
whatever." "Ron was playing way out of his league with you," George said as he began to rub her other calf. "Then again, I think a lot of guys would be out their league with you.
Even Fred." "But not you," she said with an ironic expression. "No, but I am God's gift to women, so no woman is truly out of my league." "Stars and stones," she laughed. She used her foot to shove him back against the door. "Let me worship at the altar of George," she said, completely overdoing the sarcastic humor. George knew that Angelina, and maybe even Alicia would ask her if Ron was at the same place.
He rather doubted it. He couldn't pretend to know Ron as well as Hermione did, but he hoped that Ron was as comfortable in the relationship as she was. Of course men didn't think about relationships the same way women did, so maybe Ron was just going to ride this new wave of experimentation until Hermione tired of it.
Anyway it went, it wasn't really his business, but maybe he should run it past his younger brother, just to make sure there weren't any surprises coming for him. Her feet were soft and warm as they caressed his semi-hard cock, and every thought that didn't have to do with what her feet were doing was suddenly scattered. He sighed contentedly and spread his legs a bit wider. He wasn't at all surprised to be half-hard again.
He knew his foot fetish was borderline creepy, but few things turned him on more than a pair of pretty but slightly imperfect feet. Getting to rub and play with those feet was an activity that could occupy him for long periods of time. Hermione's feet had the added attraction of being virgin territory, so to speak. It was obvious she hadn't done this before or only one once or twice if she had. She was clumsy, and she fumbled a bit, but she was also being very careful to make sure she didn't hurt him.
"Oo, kinky!" Fred's voice completely shattered George's almost Zen-like state of bliss. Hermione yanked a bit hard on him as she suddenly retracted her feet back to her side of the car.
George turned his head to see his brother's face peering down through the open sun-roof. "May we help you?" George asked?
"So good of you to ask." Fred pushed himself up on top of the car then slithered, naked, down into the front seat. He squirmed around a bit so that he was upright and straddling the console. His erect cock stuck straight out in front him. "I have a boner that would like some company, and you two look like you need someone to liven things up a bit. By the way, it smells like sex in here. I'm disappointed George, you won't let me have sex in here." "That's because she's a lot prettier than you are." "You cow," Fred replied, his voice dripping with sarcastic injury.
He stroked his cock a couple of times and smiled brilliantly at them. "So, are you two going to help me with my problem, or what?" "I don't," George started.
"Sure!" Hermione said over the top of him. "But I think we'll need a bit more room than the back seat of a Jaguar. Freddy," she said as she leaned forward and ran a finger down Fred's chest, "why don't you go make sure your bedroom is empty. We'll be up in a minute." She kissed her finger and pressed it to the end of Fred's prick. Fred crawled back out the same way he came in. George smiled at Hermione. "You probably have no idea what you're in for girl." He leaned forward and gave her a kiss.
"You're probably right," she said, "but I'm sure you boys will surprise me somehow." She kissed him back. "Now I owe you something naughty for that marvelous foot job. You're supposed to go pick up dinner in a couple of hours," she said as she leaned in to kiss him again. "I've always wondered if I could give a guy blowjob while he was driving." With that, she slipped out of the car and George chased her up to Fred and Angelina's, fortunately, empty room.