SD: CH102 - Cucking Her Husband Part 1

Anastasia stood in front of her dressing table, combing her hair. She fluffed it out so it framed her pretty face sensually, the lustrous blonde locks looking somewhat wild and sexy, as she knew Harry Potter would expect.

She had chosen a cream satin lace-up bustier, something she knew looked spectacular on her. And now looking at herself in the mirror, she knew she had chosen wisely. The satin glistened alluringly as it moulded itself to her curvy form, yet she knew the fabric was sinfully cool to the touch — and she expected Potter to be touching her a lot, and felt herself get wet just by thinking about it.

She couldn’t explain what had come over her during that meeting, but she found herself almost ‘under his spell’. Under the spell of pure, young maleness, his testosterone-laced body seemed to ooze sex with every breath he took. From that first moment he had her down on her knees worshipping his cock, she had felt something take control. A deep-seated wantonness that had been lying restlessly dormant inside her, waiting for someone to release those troubling desires that she had suppressed for all these years. Desires to slavishly worship and serve that big, hard cock.

And to do it in front of her husband, with him forced to watch as a boy of his daughter’s age violated his wife’s pussy… just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine. It was wickedly sinful, imagining her husband’s expression when he saw that big, hard, powerful yet so velvety soft cock would drill her insides, her pussy gushing and moans of ecstasy escaping her lips. Broderick had been sold on the idea that Harry Potter was a greenhorn lacking in experience that she had swindled by a little show of skin, a boy that fancied himself a man when in actuality, he had been swindled into a piss-poor deal just to have half-hearted sex with an adult woman.

Anastasia turned and faced herself in the mirror. With her hair slightly tousled and looking playfully sexy, she applied some dark bronze tones to her eyelids, followed by a swirl of mascara brush over her eyelashes. It gave her a more sultry look than the pink eye shadow she was used to wearing, and she liked it. Her pouty lips were almost glowing, looking wickedly wet and teasingly inviting with the smearless gloss, turning her wide full mouth into a brilliant red gash, which she knew Potter wanted. A wet-looking mouth for sucking his big, hard cock.

She adjusted her girls one more time, her voluminous tits barely contained by the bustier. She liked the way her big tits cast a pronounced shadow on her midsection, and the way the cinched-in waist emphasised her shapely hourglass figure. The ribbon-like laces that adorned the front were drawn taught, forcing her huge tits together and up. The laces were tight as could be, and she knew that one tug on the bow would release her breasts from their containment. If that happened, she wouldn't be surprised if the bustier went flying right off, based on the strain it was under.

With her nipples just beneath the lacy top edge of the bustier's cups, she reached down and wriggled her hips, adjusting the tiny waistband of the matching thong panties.

Having left the panties till the very end, Anastasia carefully adjusted the front panel, making sure her juices weren't seeping through. She turned and looked at her plump rear end, nicely displayed in the tiny thong. She sprayed the sexiest perfume and was just fluffing her hair up one more time when the door to her bedroom opened, and her husband stepped through.

“Ana…” said Broderick, coming to a stop seeing his wife dressed so provocatively. “Don’t you think this is a bit… too much? We are only to entertain his madness for one night. But this…”

“Oh honey,” said Anastasia, walking up and caressing his cheek. “That just won’t do. This is Harry Potter you are talking about. He’s a boy, and boys talk. I’d rather be described as an effervescent beauty that he couldn’t tame, an unattainable wet dream for a boy of his age, instead of being the bland wife of Broderick Greengrass that tricked him into a bad deal.”

“I don’t even want him to touch you in the first place,” Broderick growled.

“Then you should’ve known better than to rope him into these things. He’s a boy, and their heads are run by hormones. Plus, if he’s really enthralled, it means we can suck him into future deals. If I’m spreading my legs for the Boy-Who-Lived, it better pay me back a hundredfold.”

Broderick scowled, clearly upset with his wife’s logic.

Anastasia gave him a perturbed glare. “You want to know what I think? I think you have enough issues of your own to deal with right now than worry about this.”

“You’re not the one that has to watch his wife get fucked by another man.”

“No, I’m the wife that gets fucked by another man because my husband was too stupid to get me into this mess in the first place,” she said. “For Merlin’s sake, Broderick. Don’t make this any tougher than it is. For better or worse, I’m the one that has to work with Potter in the near future, and I’d rather make him very happy.”

“But—”

“Honey,” she said, caressing his face. “Just treat this as a fantasy of mine. Watching a younger man fuck me in front of my husband. A younger man that happens to the Boy-Who-Lived. This time tomorrow, we will be here, making love to each other, laughing at how pathetic the boy had been in bed. How you were the only guy that could show me a good time.”

She felt her husband’s pants grow tighter at the mental image.

“Imagine… you pounding into me, orgasm after orgasm, reminding this body how a real man takes his wife. Tonight, that boy gets to put his tiny penis into my pussy. Tonight, your wife makes a sacrifice for her dear husband. And tomorrow night, she gets adequately rewarded for it.”

Her fingers caressed his cock over his pants.

Anatasia smirked. “Someone sure likes that idea.”

Broderick blushed. “Fine. You win.”

Anastasia gave him a knowing smile. She always knew what to say to turn him on.

About half an hour later, Harry Potter entered their bedroom, his familiar, fun and muscular frame walking through the door, dressed in an expensive suit and tie, holding a bottle of Ogden’s Finest gift-wrapped for the occasion. He didn’t seem too phased at all, matter of fact, he seemed relaxed about the whole situation. It made her wonder what other pureblood ladies had done the same too during the course of the summer.

Another mystery to add about the enigmatic Harry Potter.

She almost chuckled as Harry offered the bottle to Broderick with a roguish grin, who pivoted nervously, but nonetheless accepted it. Protocol dictated that he should’ve offered this to the Lady of the House, but given the unusual circumstances, the husband was the one that needed a  little coaxing. He was ensuring that Broderick was relaxed to let the rest of the eventful night to follow through.

“Uh, you’re not going to stab me, are you?” Harry gave a laugh.

“It was my intention,” said Broderick seriously, before his expression shifted slightly. “I am joking. It’s… actually fine. You did help me out of this roadblock, and are taking quite the risk for me. While I don’t like it, I can understand where you are coming from, and I think both me and my wife are fairly broad-minded to let this one slight pass.”

“I really want to say how bad I feel for putting you in this situation,” Harry began, but Broderick cut him off.

“Seriously… it’s fine,” said her husband. He paused between his words, and even Anastasia was surprised with how considering he was being about the entire situation. We talked about it, we explored the idea a little, and we are completely okay with it.”

“Explored it?”

Broderick paused, realising how misleading his words sounded. “We explored the outcome of your request, and we decided that it wasn’t big enough to make a fuss about it. You are in your teens, and I remember what it’s like to be bombarded with hormones.”

“Alright,” said Harry. “That’s cool.”

The conversation didn’t venture back to the topic of what was about to happen, save only a few jokes from Broderick’s side. After half an hour of casual chat, Broderick looked like he was feeling a lot lighter, with the consequences of what was about to happen completely thrown out of the window. As bizarre as it sounded, he no longer sounded like he cared if Harry Potter was about to fuck his wife. Yes, that was going to happen, but it was like Harry Potter was a nameless entity used only to fuel a fantasy between him and his wife. A single night of letting go gave away so much excitement and pleasure that Anatasia could almost believe that Broderick was looking forward to it.

And she had a sneaking suspicion that Harry Potter had something to do with it.

Was it the firewhiskey? No, she had drunk it too, and she didn’t notice any change in its texture or any magical influence apart from the usual lowering of inhibitions. Neither had Potter raised his wand. She knew he was powerful and could perform basic wandless magic, but she had yet to feel any magical spell take root around her.

“Honestly,” slurred an inebriated Broderick. He leaned into the table a bit the way he always did when he was about to say something heartfelt, or on a more serious note. “I’m glad you accepted the offer. It would’ve been devastating to us otherwise.”

“Yes,” said Anastasia meekly, playing the part of the dutiful wife. “And we do acknowledge the degree you are trying to keep things comfortable.”

“Oh no, not at all,” said Harry. “Honestly, most couples don’t even find that level of trust in each other to try something like this. And those that do… Well, it takes them years. It’s just amazing that you have done it so young.”

Anastasia smiled. She knew that by referring to them as a couple, Harry was actually making the entire thing look like a perverted fantasy that she and Broderick wanted to experience. Instead of having to fight his ego, Harry was making it look like the entire thing was actually Broderick’s fetish, a bond between him and her, something that they could be open and proud of, something that hopefully they would explore more in the future. His words were perfectly planned, aiming to praise them for liking a fantasy that just happened to let him fuck his wife right then, and perhaps more in the future. Why, by the end of it, Broderick was almost looking smug.

His sheer expertise stirred her loins.

“Not to mention the trust,” said Harry. “I mean, any other man would have held what I suggested against me for suggesting it, and his wife for accepting it. It’s fucking insane that your relationshop is so strong that you actually are coming out of the other side with things better than before.”

The proud look on his face was almost genuine, and Anatasia wondered how a boy still in his teens could so effortlessly manipulate a man his father’s age so effortlessly. Was this what that Jones woman had been talking about?

Ah well, she had made her bed already. There would be tons of opportunities to talk to Potter’s secretary in the future. For now, she just gave her husband a sultry smile and squeezed his hand.

“Much better,” she said.

“I trust her,” said Broderick happily. “Beyond anything else, I can’t say I’ve felt that way about any other woman before… and what’s more, I think I can trust you, Potter. You… you’re the real deal. I think I could watch you fuck her over and over, but I’d know it wouldn’t hurt us as a couple.”

Anatasia sat on the edge at her husband’s words. Had he really said that? She knew that she had him semi-convinced by playing on his masculinity and ego, but that was assuming that Harry Potter had a small dick and would be terrible in bed, when in reality, he’d be anything but. There was always a chance that Broderick would feel emasculated in the middle of it and react badly. But this…

She had thought she had seen all Harry Potter had to offer.

She had been so wrong.

“Well… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it out,” Broderick admitted. “This looked bad in the beginning, but now I see it. It actually proves to me how faithful Anastasia is to me.”

He quickly glanced at her, only to see her staring aimlessly. He grabbed her by her shoulders and gave her a one-armed hug. Anastasia silently accepted it, unable to help but shuffle a bit in her seat as her mind vividly played flashbacks of her time with Potter. The loud moans, the dirty looks, the unbelievable feeling of getting fucked by him. Her mind played on the erotic fantasy, being fucked and used so primitively in aid of her darkest desires, her husband being cast aside in aid of a more dominant partner.

“Well, if you like it,” said Harry, “We can arrange for it again, sometime. Again, feel free to call that off if you want.”

Anastasia almost laughed in joy at the look of approval on her husband’s face. Harry had him exactly where he wanted to be. She knew it was crucial to give Broderick the sensation of choice over this, to make it feel like they were asking Potter to join in on the fantasy, when the reality was its exact opposite.

“I’m half decent at acting,” said Harry. “I’m more than happy to play along in case you have any fantasies, Lady Greengrass. It’s the least I can do in return for what you are doing for me.”

Anastasia looked at Broderick.

“Go ahead,” said her husband.

“It… it feels weird,” she admitted, unsure how to approach it without blowing things up. “And wrong. Very wrong.”

“That’s the thing about fantasies,” said Harry. “They are wrong, and that’s what makes them so spicy. But I’m certain your husband wouldn’t mind, given how much he trusts you.”

“Well…. I’d like you to say certain words while you fuck me,” she paused, wondering how to lead to what she wanted to say next. “Like, I want you to try and mock my husband, for being better at fucking me than he is…” She looked at Broderick for any expression changes, but found none, save a tiny embarrassment. “I want you to claim that since you’re young, you can fuck me better than… you know, my husband. And then… and then… I want my husband to fuck me after that, and prove that he’s better.”

Harry arched an eyebrow.

“I’m saying you’re worse in any fashion, Harry,” she said, with a note of pleading. “But well… my husband is a fantastic lover, and I’m sure you are great at this, but I want to see my husband prove himself to me that he is my alpha.”

She couldn’t believe how odd this felt, her sitting there, talking casually to another guy about fucking him in front of her husband. Scary, but also incredibly arousing. “So I want you to… to tell him that you are going to fuck me, and that you are going to fuck me again… or telling him that you are going to cum in me… and mock him. It will… uh, make the ending even more glorious when he proves himself to me.”

She finished her list rather lustfully, her tits heaving as her breath deepened.

“I can do that,” said Harry Potter for a thoughtful moment.

Anastasia took a moment to marvel at the sheer efficacy with which he planned, imagined and envisioned every single way the conversation may have gone over. She had no doubt that he had considered a plethora of ways this conversation could’ve fucked six ways to Sunday. Using Broderick’s urgency to get him to sign his wife’s body for a night, had been a start. Hell, he had masterfully used Broderick’s best friend Gideon to convince the man to go along with it.

And now, he had changed Broderick from someone that was two steps away from murdering Potter in his sleep, to someone willing to let Potter fuck his wife.

“I… I think I’ll let you talk about it for a bit,” said Harry in a suggestive tone, as he stood up. “I think I need to talk to my secretary about something. How about I rejoin you in ten minutes?”

Classy, thought Anastasia. His leaving made it look like this was a far realistic arrangement that rested, not on his hands, but on Broderick, when the truth was, he had signed his wife’s booty away to Potter, regardless of how he might feel about it. Husband and wife sat there silently for a while, pondering the fantasy she had voiced moments earlier in their own minds, and looking at each other with curiosity and slight apprehension.

“Well?” She asked anxiously.

“I think…” said Broderick slowly. “I think he raised some good points, and if we play it like that, it works out for the best. I mean, he’s the Boy-Who-Lived and the Potter Lord, so making him feel inadequate would bring more harm than good. But this way, we’re doing exactly that, while calling it a fantasy. He can get his pity romp, and… it’s just one time.”

“Honey…” she asked, as tempted as she was to simply take him at his word. The sheer irony felt absolutely ecstatic. “Are you absolutely sure about —”

“Yes,” said Broderick before she even finished it. Damn it, Potter really was a miracle maker.

A couple of dirty words and teasing remarks later, Harry Potter entered the room again, sitting next to them as if nothing had happened. He gave them a smug smile before speaking in anticipation.

“Well, what did you decide?”

Anastasia gave a nod, her eyes fixated at Harry as she held Broderick’s hand. She couldn’t believe this was about to happen, and her palms began to sweat and her heart fluttered with excitement of the night ahead. The thought of exploring that taboo, the chance to actually say hurtful things to her husband under the guise of roleplay while letting Potter fuck her minds out like before…. Just the thought was making her wet as she sat there.

“I think…” said Broderick. “I think we might as well get started. I have asked the elves to prepare a room for this.”

The trio reached the room, opened the door and made their way in. Broderick entered last, leaving him to close the door behind him. Anastasia was standing close to Potter, barely a few feet away from the bed, leaving Broderick no choice but to sit on the couch and watch. Anastasia was nervous herself, and as desperate as she was to get fucked by Harry Potter, she didn’t want to make things awkward or appear too interested. Thankfully, Potter moved closer, his tall, dominant frame towering over her slender form. He looked at her, a smug smile on his face before he spoke in a quiet whisper.

“Tell your husband I am going to fuck you.”

Her pussy clenched at his words. Potter’s forwardness made her ease up a bit. Her body relaxed, and she looked at her husband, who was still standing next to the couch, his eyes fixed in anticipation. Her heart raced as she followed Harry’s commands.

“...Honey,” she breathed. “Harry Potter is going to fuck me now.”

Potter spoke again. “On your knees. Let your husband watch you suck my cock.”

Anastasia’s heart raced. This was it… it was about to happen. She was truly going to get fucked before her husband. With no further instruction, the stunning woman sank to her knees in front of the young man, staring up at him as he edged a little closer to her. Watching from the corner of his eyes, she noticed the tension in Broderick’s pants, no doubt watching her face light up in excitement as she raised her hands up to meet Potter’s crotch, before stroking hard against his shaft from the outside of his pants. A part of her whispered that the entire setting had been banking on her claims about Potter possibly having a tiny dick, when the truth was the exact opposite. A moment of passionate stroking passed as she fiddled with his belt, unbuckling it and pulling his trousers downward, leaving him in his boxer shorts outlined by his thick, hard cock.

Her mouth opened on its own, and she gasped. She had been painfully, exquisitely familiar with Potter’s cock from earlier during the day, and watching it again brought forth those images into her mind. She stared at it idly, completely dismissing the idea that her husband was watching her from a few feet away. She dipped her thumbs under his boxers, and began to slowly drag it down, revealing inch after inch of his bare cock. It stood at a considerable size, even at half-mast, and her lips hovered at the tip, before dragging them up and down his cock. She wasn’t kissing it, or sucking it. Instead, she just pressed her lips against it, absolutely absorbed in her own horniness and the need to get fucked by this masterpiece.

“Merlin, your wife is a dirty bitch,” gloated Potter. His cock was stiffening at her caressing, and he slowly pushed it against her mouth. Anastasia parted her lips to take it inch by inch into her mouth, while her husband watched, shocked and aroused at the same time, at the sight of this ‘kid’ feeding his jumbo cock to his faithful wife.

“That’s it,” hissed Potter. “Suck it. Suck my cock.”

Anastasia gave a muffled moan and began working faster and faster on his shaft, her eyes fixed on her husband who was still staring in disbelief, whole the thick, rubbery head of Harry’s cock kept hitting the back of her throat, causing her to gag slightly, but not deterring her from her illicit sucking.

And then the most surprising thing happened.

Her husband’s hand moved to his trousers and began to rub his cock through the material.

Anastasia couldn’t believe her eyes. What new facet of her husband’s character had been unveiled here? Was he… was he truly getting excited at the idea of having another man fuck his wife’s mouth? It sent a spark up her spine, and she began bobbing up and down the cock ever so dirtily, watching Broderick massage his own dick. After a few moments, she opened her mouth and placed her tongue flat against his shaft, licking so desperately up and down his turgid member. She wanted to give Broderick a show, and she was going to enjoy giving it even more. Giving him a dirty smile, her pearly white teeth blocked out as her lips pressed against Potter’s shaft, she decided it was time to take things to the next level.

“I love sucking your cock.”

Potter gave her a knowing smile. He knew fully well what she was trying to do, and he wanted her to continue mocking her husband while he fucked her. “Really? Better than your husband?”

“You have no idea,” said Anastasia breathlessly, stroking his cock with one hand. She was absolutely in love with this thing. “The things it does to my throat….mmm….” She turned at Broderick with a cruel smile. “His doesn’t even reach halfway.”

Broderick sucked in his breath, but kept rubbing his cock through his pants faster, fully immersed in the fantasy Harry had manipulated him to believe in.

“Whose cock do you love more?” asked Potter.

“Yours,” she breathed.

“Prove it.”

Without hesitation, she pulled her hand away from his cock and held them together behind her back. She gave him a dirty smile and plunged her mouth against his rock-hard shaft, and began slurping loudly. She sucked and bobbed her head back and forth, the smacking noises filling the room. She was putting up a show in front of her husband, and she’d be damned if she didn’t take advantage of this twisted opportunity. If Broderick’s reaction was any clue, she could perhaps even arrange for a repeat… or perhaps, multiple repeats of this over and over. Every lick she was made against his cock dripped with her sluttiness before she parted her head from it altogether. She remained on her knees, before placing her arms to the bottom of her shirt, lifting it off and exposing the cream bustier beneath.

“Broderick…” she whispered. “Harry Potter is staring at my tits.”

Broderick went faster.

“Do you…” she went on. “Do you want him to look at my tits while I suck him off?”

Before Broderick could even make a desperate nod, she had begun removing the bustier off, dropping it to the floor, exposing her gorgeous, smooth, firm tits to the pair of them.

Her husband’s eyes all but bulged out of his sockets, as he hissed out a breath, jerking himself faster and faster. Anastasia wondered how long it would be before he took his dick out of his pants, or worse, creamed within them.

Grabbing her tits with both hands, fondling them with the desperate need to be touched, she resumed bobbing her head against his cock, sending everyone into a surge of pleasure at the sight. Meanwhile, she watched the kindles of a strange fire burn within her husband’s eyes, a desperation that wanted her to reach the climax of what she was doing, yet also continue doing it for eternity. An amazing dichotomy of desires and emotions that felt absolutely exquisite.

Tonight was going to be interesting.