Chapter Text
Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own Harry Potter or its respective universe. Who knew.
Author Note – I enjoy writing short stories for my own enjoyment but at a suggestion from a friend, I have decided to start posting some of my stories that I am working on or have completed. All feedback is welcome (hopefully constructive!) Looking forward to what you think!
This story is dedicated to Simon Reichel, a patron of my work.
"Please," Tracey said, the slight exhaustion in her voice registering with Harry, "Please do this for me. She's one of my best friends, and she really is sorry."
Harry leaned back in his chair, letting out a sigh. "Yeah, okay."
"That sounded non-committal."
"It was," Harry sad, hand over his face. "But I'll give her a chance to apologize."
"Great!" Tracey said, pep back in her voice now. "There's a place just a few doors down from her studio where the three of us can eat and talk. Just like old times."
"The times when she secretly hated me?"
"I'll meet you there at six, love you!" Tracey continued on, gliding right over Harry's snide comment The line went dead, so Harry leaned forward and hung his work phone up. He glanced at the clock on his desk, which read 3:47. Still another hour to go, but he knew he was useless for the rest of the day now that he had a dinner with Daphne to look forward to.
It frustrated Harry, being mad at Daphne, because up until a week ago, he'd have loved grabbing dinner as a group. He'd known Daphne as long as Tracey had, the three of them all meeting in the first year of Hogwarts. They never really hung out alone, but she and Tracey were best friends and members of the same house, so she was never too far away once Harry and Tracey had started dating. Hell, Daphne had even been at the birthday party where Harry had proposed to Tracey the previous summer, and she was supposed to be Tracey's maid of honor.
It was something Harry had been fine with until Tracey, a little more drunk than she realized, had let slip a secret: all through their final years of Hogwarts and when they started working at the Ministry, Daphne was constantly trying to get Tracey to dump him. It had been a gut-punch for Harry to hear, and upon pressing his inebriated fiancée a little further, she told him that Daphne thought he was boring, that he was holding Tracey back, that she could do better. And that the few weeks they actually had separated right after finishing at Hogwarts, had actually been at a suggestion from Daphne. The same Daphne that had apparently been bullsh*tting him when she came by to comfort him after the break-up.
At that point, the thought of Daphne being in their wedding party infuriated Harry, and Tracey had to talk him off the ledge from hexing her in person. Instead, he'd just steered clear of her, but he remained insistent she not be in the wedding. Tracey, however, was determined to make sure Daphne was by her side that day, and so she'd set-up this dinner.
Harry leaned forward, fuming. "It was a long time ago," Tracey said, though three years since the break-up certainly didn't feel like it. "She legitimately thinks the world of you now." Sure, two years of badmouthing him forgotten about, just like that. He would go to this dinner, try his best to behave himself, but the last thing he saw happening was believing a word that came out of Daphne's mouth.
Harry pulled into the parking lot a few minutes before six, a ball of dread sitting in the pit of his stomach. He stayed behind the wheel once he'd parked, just staring at the strip of buildings in front of him. Directly ahead was Alexander's, the Italian place the three of them were going to be meeting. On the far-right side of the building was Daphne's studio: Witches Pole Fitness.
Yes, Daphne was a part time pole dancer. Not just a dancer, not just a teacher, but an expert. So good at it that after college she'd decided to open up a little business targeted for witches who just needed to blow off steam. Her studio hadn't been open long, but she'd managed to grow it into a very successful part time venture so far. "All the fun, none of the stripping," Daphne would often joke, before adding with a smirk, "well, some stripping, when I feel a guy has earned it."
Pole dancing: just another way Daphne was more adventurous and exciting than Harry, no doubt.
f*ck, Harry didn't want to do this. He looked around the parking lot, hoping to see Tracey's car, but it seemed she hadn't arrived yet. That's when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw Tracey was calling.
"Hello?"
"Don't hate me," Tracey said, and Harry's heart sank instantly.
"Don't do this."
"I'm just going to be a little late."
"How late?"
"About an hour-and-a-half."
"I'm going home," Harry said, already grabbing the key in the ignition.
"Babe, no!" Tracey called, causing him to hesitate. "Listen, I know, okay, really? I used to get so mad at Daphne for badmouthing you. But it really is all in the past. Just give her a chance to say that."
"Without you here?" Harry said, still gripping the key.
"If she's rude or unapologetic in any way, you can leave. Just please, meet up with her and go ahead and head over to the restaurant. Maybe you'll even have it all worked out by the time I get there."
"Doubtful," Harry said, then sighed. "I'll try."
"Love you so much!" Tracey said. "I promise, I'll be there ASAP."
"You'd better. Love you, too," Harry said, hanging up.
"Er, excuse me," Harry mumbled, pressing into the doorframe as a pair of near-nude faintly familiar women in sports bras and short-shorts squeezed past him. He took a deep breath, never quite used to how much exposed flesh he saw when he came in here. Never mind that he slightly enjoyed it.
Once the last women exited, Harry moved further into the studio. Past the lobby, there was little more than a wide-open room filled with poles, and mirrors along the far wall. At the moment, the room was empty, leaving him to assume Daphne was in the back somewhere.
Not quite sure what to do, Harry stepped up to one of the poles, eyeing it. He reached out, giving it a tug, leaning his weight against it. With a little push, he spun slightly, going a bit more off-balance than intended, but managing to stay up. He stumbled forward, however, at the sound of a voice.
"Were you hoping for a lesson?"
"Oh!" Harry said, catching himself. Straightening, he looked to see Daphne standing in the doorway at the back of the studio. The sight of her outfit caused him to let out another small gasp. "Oh... hey, Daphne."
Like her students, Daphne was wearing next-to-nothing: a tight pair of booty shorts and a sports bra that clung to her chest. She was a good looking woman, just over five foot six and thin as a rail, but she was in fantastic shape, something her outfit highlighted. Her breasts were quite large, but perky, her ass tight. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, leaving a fringe of her bangs hanging loose above her eyes, and she was rubbing at her neck with a towel. Mad at her though he was, Harry couldn't deny that Daphne was smoking hot.
"Hey. So, I just saw Tracey's text," Daphne said, holding up her phone. "Guess it's just us for a bit, huh?"
"Seems that way," Harry said, crossing his arms. "Hope the thought is not too boring to handle."
"Right to it, huh?" Daphne said, smirking. "Well, you're certainly not playing nice."
"Well, what can I say, I'm not feeling too nice right now."
Daphne's smile widened a bit. "Look, back when we were in Hogwarts and then right after we finished ... I don't know …, Tracey and I were best friends, and we had so much fun when we would go out. And then the two of you got together, and it just seemed like she stopped going out or... doing anything, really."
"And that was my fault?"
"I mean, kind of!" Daphne said with a shrug. "Like, you never seemed to want to go out, and then she'd want to stay in with you, and I was worried she was wasting her best years on her first boyfriend. I didn't know you two were going to end up being the real deal."
"I'm so sorry you were wrong."
Daphne sighed, slumping her shoulders. "Look, if you want to be mad at me, I can't stop you. We can just cancel dinner and I'll skip the wedding." Daphne spun on her very high heels and headed back to her office. "What's nearly a decade and a half of friendship really matter?"
"f*ck," Harry said, suddenly feeling like an ass. Yes, he was still mad at Daphne, but... damn it, she legitimately seemed apologetic. And he'd promised Tracey he'd try to make amends, but instead... "Damn it." Harry moved across the studio space towards Daphne's office, resolving himself to try a little harder with her. He came to the door, left open, and stepped in. "Daphne, listen, I..."
Harry trailed off as he entered, surprised to find Daphne inverted, her legs split open as she held herself aloft by a pole. It was a position that left him eye level and very close to her crotch, and the situation took him by immediate surprise and embarrassment. He could feel himself blush as he averted his eyes.
"Oh, um... sorry."
"It's fine, Harry," Daphne said, flipping effortlessly and landing on her heels. "I get plenty of guys checking me out when they're waiting on their girlfriends, I'm used to it."
"I wasn't... I mean, I didn't think you'd be... I didn't even know there was a pole in here."
"Yeah, well, I like practicing in private sometimes," Daphne said, leaning against the pole with crossed arms and giving him a hard stare. "It helps when I'm frustrated."
"Fair enough," Harry sighed. "Listen... it just hurt that you thought I was boring, because... I don't know, I thought we were friends."
"We are friends!"
"From the beginning, I mean," Harry continued, allowing himself to slump into a chair by the door. "I thought we hit it off right after Tracey and I started dating, and the times we did go out, I thought we all had fun. But the whole time, at least a couple years... you just were waiting for Tracey to break up with me. It really sucked."
"Well... f*ck, that makes sense, then," Daphne sighed, leaning out from the pole, a hand keeping her anchored to it. She spun absent-mindedly a few times, then straightened back up. "Yeah, that really sucks. But like, dude, I never wanted you to find out about that! Once I realized how good you two were together, I quit it. I swear."
"I want to believe you," Harry said, watching as Daphne spun around the pole again. He found his eyes incapable of leaving her body as she did; her muscles and figure were so well-defined and... tight. "Just... it was hard to learn."
"I get it." Daphne said, a leg wrapping around the pole as she lifted her body up. "And I'm sorry. I promise you I am."
"Right..." Harry murmured, Daphne bent away from the pole and leaving him staring at her thighs gripping around it.
"I just wish there was something I could do to prove it, you know?" Daphne said, her voice lower as she stepped down from the pole. She held a grip on it as she bent down, giving Harry a look straight at her ass as she did. How high did those shorts ride? Daphne tossed her hair to the side as she glanced back at him, a smirk on his face. "Would you be open to an idea?"
"Daphne?" Harry said, suddenly unsure. Somehow, the energy in the room had changed, evidenced both by the position Daphne had taken and increased tightness of his pants.
"Tracey mentioned you weren't having a bachelor party." Daphne straightened up, turning to face him and lean against the pole.
"Uh, yeah," Harry said, eyes locked with hers now. "None of the guys can make it to town any earlier than the wedding weekend."
"I don't think that's fair to you," Daphne said, her arms reaching up behind her to take hold of the pole. "Tracey's still getting her bachelorette party, after all."
"It's... it's fine," Harry said, throat dried out a bit. "Maybe we'll do something after."
"Well, then it's not really a bachelor party, is it?" Daphne said, smirk widening. "It's a whole lot better to misbehave before the wedding than after. Knowing what Lavender has planned, Tracey's sure going to have a lot of fun."
"What... what are you suggesting, then?"
"Every guy deserves a dance," Daphne said, lifting herself off the ground and splitting her legs apart in midair. With that, things went silent, Daphne beginning to twirl around the pole. This wasn't a fitness routine, though, or the casual spins she'd been doing as they spoke. This was the sort of movement Harry would expect to see at a strip club, technical moves mixed with seduction.
Harry was mesmerized, watching Daphne's lithe body gracefully spin around the pole. When she was facing him, whatever position she was in, their eyes were locked. When she was faced away, his eyes wandered her body, enjoying the way her shorts and bra clung to her body. When she wasn't spinning, she was teasing: bending over, squeezing her ass, running her hands over her tit*, winking and blowing kisses to Harry. She wasn't stripping - though he wondered how close to crossing that line they both were - but she was making him want her in a way he never had before. He'd always known Daphne was hot. Now, though, he was suddenly obsessed with Daphne's body: her large, perky breasts, her tight ass, the way her rail-thin frame still teased him with womanly curves. All that, and the way she could move on the pole, her body an inviting ballet of seemingly impossible stretches and spins.
"That's one of my favorite routines," Daphne said, coming to a stop as she landed back on the toes of her heels. Her voice had dropped again, barely a whisper; the mood had well and truly changed between them now. She began to saunter towards him, Harry's eyes again glued to hers. "Not a lot of guys have gotten the chance to see it." She stopped, legs barely a couple inches from his knees. "Can you guess what happens next, groom-to-be?"
"Daphne," Harry said, looking up at her. He was filled with electricity, a yearning he knew was wrong, but that felt so right in the moment. He couldn't let it go any further. "Daphne, this has gone far enough, don't you think?"
"If your friends had been able to make it, wouldn't you have gotten a stripper?"
"Yes..."
"And a lap dance?"
Harry swallowed. "Yes."
"Then what's wrong with me apologizing this way?"
Harry knew the answer to that. He knew that getting a lap dance was something he and Tracey had talked about; but it coming from one of her best friends, one who was almost naked and flashing him serious f*ck-me eyes, was not. That's all the reason he needed... but f*ck, she looked like heaven in a five-foot-six frame. "If you're sure."
With a smile, Daphne spun on her heels, her ass level with Harry's face for a moment; he didn't blush or look away this time. Hands on her knees and legs spread, Daphne slowly - achingly slowly - lowered herself into teasing proximity with Harry's lap. Harry didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he let out a sharp exhale as Daphne's ass first brushed across his erection, his thin slacks and her booty shorts not doing much to keep them separated.
God, her ass felt amazing, every teasing touch sending a twitch of pleasure through Harry's body. She glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling as she quickly popped her booty down onto his erection three times; he almost came on the spot.
"f*ck, you're good at this," Harry gasped, gripping the arms of the chair hard. Daphne giggled.
"I run a pole fitness studio, Harry," she said, taking a seat on the edge of his knees before leaning fully back into him. She turned her head, now right against his shoulder, to add, "And I've used those skills more than once."
Harry shuddered, the pressure of Daphne's gyrating ass no longer light teases, but full-blown grinding. She slipped an arm around his neck as she pushed into his lap with deliberate, forceful figure-eights, keeping pressure directly on his co*ck at all times.
"Daphne..." Harry moaned, the gyrations driving him wild. "This is... oh merlin ..."
"This isn't a strip club, Harry," Daphne said, placing her free hand on his. "There's no bouncer to throw you out for getting too handsy." She pulled his hand off the chair and placed it across her flat belly. "Touch me all you like."
Harry listened, not hesitating to pull Daphne tighter against him, his other hand sliding down against her thigh. On she went, edging his co*ck along with her grinding, her slight moans, her entire gorgeous frame. Lost in pleasure, Harry let his hands wander, one sliding up to Daphne's breast, the other to squeeze high on her inner thigh. Even through the constraints of her sports bra, Harry could feel Daphne's hardened nipple atop the soft flesh of her large tit.
"Daphne..." Harry moaned, barely able to get a clear thought out. "So close..."
"Want to feel it," Daphne said, her hands sliding under her. She pulled away from him slightly, reaching for his zipper and sliding it down. Again, Harry gasped sharply as Daphne's slender fingers gripped his dick directly for the first time.
Before he knew it, she'd scooted closer to him, pulling him out and placing his length firmly between her thighs. No longer gyrating, Daphne simply squeezed her legs shut, trapping him in the tight embrace of her thigh gap. Harry looked down, seeing his dick head peeking out from between her thighs and nestled right against the hot, damp side of her boy shorts.
"Such a big boy … a real big boy," Daphne moaned, rolling her hips once again. The new sensations sent even more pleasure through Harry's body, and he found himself gripping Daphne close to him once again. "I'm sure Tracey appreciates that."
"Don't..." Harry moaned, immediately ashamed by the thrill that ran through him at the mention of his wife-to-be. "Don't mention her..."
"Harry, you're not married yet," Daphne giggled, grinding him with more urgency now. "I told you, this is when it's okay to be naughty."
"Daphne..." Harry said, barely able to get words out as the pressure built; f*ck, her thighs were so good, the heat of her puss* so enticing. He began to buck his hips slightly, meeting her gyrations with clumsy, urgent thrusts.
"That's it, Harry, enjoy yourself," Daphne said, picking up the pace of her hip rolls. Pleasure overwhelmed Harry as her thighs massaged him. "Tracey will be so happy we've made up. But she'll have no idea why. It'll be our dirty little secret."
"f*ck!" Harry groaned, Daphne's words and gyrations both pushing him over the edge. He lifted out of the chair with a thrust as his dick erupted, cum blasting up and across Daphne's stomach. She leaned back into him with a moan, reaching down to jerk the tip of his co*ck and edge him along.
Harry thought of Tracey, realizing this was the hardest he'd come in months.
"Mmm, that was nice, wasn't it?" Daphne said, continuing to play with his dick as the last spurts came out of him. Harry just shuddered, still sensitive from his org*sm. "Do you forgive me?"
"f*ck," Harry groaned, each of Daphne's teasing touches sending jolts through him. "Yeah, I do. More than... than makes up for it."
"Good!" Daphne said, suddenly standing up and away from him. She reached to her desk, grabbing her towel from earlier and quickly beginning to wipe his sem*n away from her stomach. "I'll be honest, I thought I'd have to work a lot harder than that for it." She laughed a bit, throwing him a sh*t-eating grin. "I guess you're as dull as I always thought after all, huh?
The words smacked Harry across the face hard.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm just saying, you're so passive," Daphne said, wiping her stomach off. "Like, there I was throwing myself at you, and you just sat there and let it happen. I literally whipped your dick out for you and you still did barely anything. We could've had more fun if you weren't so boring."
"So that whole apology was bullsh*t?"
"No, I really am sorry I tried to break you two up. Like, I think the world of you now. And if Tracey is okay with a boring lover, I mean, I'm sad for her, but that's her choice."
"I am not a boring lover," Harry insisted, feeling his blood begin to boil.
"Don't take it personally, Harry, really," Daphne said, throwing him that condescending smirk, almost like she pitied him. "Seriously, I just prefer guys who, you know, take charge, take what they want. You're not that type, it's fine."
Harry's blood was surging again, as all of his anger and frustration with Daphne came rushing back. Who was she to judge what type of lover he was from one lap dance? A lap dance he'd received unexpectedly, one he'd of course let her lead, out of the shock of it all. He wasn't going to pretend he hadn't enjoyed it, but he'd been holding back on purpose, trying to resist going too far. It was only in the moment of org*sm he'd realized how far he could be taking it.
And as he watched Daphne rub the last of his sem*n off of her body, he was already far past any moral line he could've drawn. He'd cum squeezed between Daphne's thighs, thrusting and holding her body desperately close. He'd cheated enough for it to be a betrayal. And the one he'd cheated with was all but asking him to show how far he was willing to go.
And he was happy to deliver.
"Give me a few minutes to change and we can head over to the restaraun - oh!" Daphne let out a gasp as Harry, closing the distance between them, gave her tight ass a sharp slap.
"Get on your knees."
"Excuse me?" Daphne said, turning to look at him with incredulousness. Her surprise sent a dark chill of pleasure through Harry, egging him on.
"I said, get on your knees."
"Okay, very funny, Harry. I'm sure you - hey!"
Again, Daphne was interrupted as Harry forcefully pushed her to her knees, bringing her eye level with his co*ck. She still seemed shocked and uncertain what had gotten into him, emboldening Harry to take things a step further. Daphne's eyes widened as he slapped her cheek with his hardening erection.
"Harry," she gasped, looking up at him and breathing heavily. "What the f*ck?"
"Suck it," he ordered, giving her another slap with his co*ck. He added, "Like a good slu*t."
Daphne stared at him for a long moment, just long enough to make Harry wonder if he'd actually taken things too far in this moment. His doubt vanished, however, as Daphne's surprise was replaced by hooded eyes and a defiant smile.
"Make me."
"Gladly," Harry said, gripping Daphne's hair in one hand and using the other to push his dick into her mouth; she gave no real resistance as he sank into her, just a sudden gag as he pushed fully into her throat. He held her there for a moment, her nose buried in his pelvis, watching the tears well in her eyes and enjoying the way her gagging throat massaged his shaft. Then, he pulled out, Daphne gasping for breath as a string of drool ran down her face.
Again, they stared at each other for a long moment, the only noise Daphne's desperate breathing, before Harry again pulled her onto his co*ck, this time bucking his hips and beginning to give her a proper facef*cking. Now, the only noise that echoed out was the sloppy sounds emanating from Daphne's throats, both the slick thrusts and her muffled moans.
Harry gave Daphne everything he now knew she desired and he desperately wanted himself. In and out, hard, brutal thrusts broken up only occasionally to allow her a moment of breath. Sometimes, he would hold her tight against him again, letting her natural gagging pleasure him; other times, he would let her do the work, her tongue and mouth teasing over his dick head. Whatever the case, he stayed in control, watching as Daphne became more and more of a drool-covered mess. And from the way she'd tugged her shorts down and started vigorously fingered herself, he knew she loved every minute of it.
The whole time, their eyes remained locked, fiery intensity building between them, each silently egging the other on. Harry's panting joined the chorus of lewd sounds, his thrusts becoming more and more desperate the longer he looked at the beautiful pole-dancing goddess he'd turned into his personal toy.
"f*ck yes..." Harry panted, hands gripping Daphne's head as he began to approach his climax. "Going to... f*cking... Daphne!"
Harry ripped himself from Daphne's mouth, a gasping moan instantly tearing from her throat. He gripped his dick and fired his load across her face and chest as an org*sm wracked Daphne's body. Blast after blast came firing out of him, mixing with the drool covering her face and bra as her puss* dripped a puddle on the floor.
Finished, Harry collapsed to his knees, the strength of his org*sm taking his legs out from under him.
"Mmmm … maybe you're not so boring after all," Daphne said through heavy breaths, still coming down from her own org*sm. She ran a hand across her face, pushing Harry's cum into her mouth and swallowing as he looked on. "Never thought you had something like that in you."
"I guess you bring it out of me," Harry said, his dick recovering quickly at the sight of Daphne covered in his cum, the way she ran her fingers through it, reveling in it, before bringing it to her lips. "Such a dirty girl."
"f*ck yeah I am," she agreed, reaching a hand over to tug at his returning erection.
"Just a filthy slu*t that needs a big strong dick to put her in her place. And I want you to give me what I need."
"I don't give a f*ck what you think you need," Harry said, pulling Daphne's stained bra up roughly, finally letting him see her pink nipples. Then, taking a fistful of her blond hair, Harry yanked Daphne back, causing her to gasp and pant as he trailed kisses along her chest and neck before coming to rest at her ear. "I'm going to give you exactly the treatment you deserve, my little slu*t."
With that, Harry all but threw Daphne to her hands and knees before sliding into place between her thighs. He gripped her shorts and yanked them farther out of the way, exposing her ass and wet, clean-shaven puss*. God, there was so much he wanted to do to her, with his hands, his tongue, his dick. Every hole and part of her, he knew, was his for the taking.
He lined his dick up with her entrance and shoved, one forceful motion burying him inside of her tight puss*. He gave no warning and showed no mercy, immediately pulling out and pounding into her again. Over and over, slamming himself into her hot little hole. The force of his thrusts combined with the hand he placed on her lower back caused Daphne's knees to give out quickly, and it wasn't long before she was flat against the floor, the full force of Harry's dick driving her wild.
"Oh, god, oh, oh, f*ck yes, Harry," Daphne moaned, barely able to string a coherent thought together as he drove into her over and over. She was truly pinned, one hand pressed against her back, the other gripping her ass and keeping her spread open as he f*cked her.
"Of course you love this," Harry grunted, fully lost in the mad heat of Daphne's puss*. "Teasing little slu*t that wants to be filled with my co*ck, right? That's all you are?"
"Yes, baby, give me what I need."
"Am I too passive a lover for your best friend now?"
"Mmmm, shouldn't have tried to break you up ... not for that reason. Should've ... sh-should've done it ... to take you for m-myself ... f*ck!" Daphne shuddered, another org*sm tearing through her.
"Believe me, you've got me now. Anytime I want, I'll come see the pole-dancing slu*t that wants to get f*cked into oblivion ... and give her ... what she needs!"
With one last thrust, Harry buried himself into Daphne as he org*smed, a red-hot rip of pleasure tearing through his body as he emptied his load deep inside of his fiancée's best friend. Any regret had long left his mind, replaced instead with the euphoric delight of the once-smug look on Daphne's face being replaced by one of absolute bliss, her org*smic feelings still lingering.
"f*ck," Harry moaned, pulling out of Daphne and collapsing on the studio floor next to her. Instinctively, he pulled her close to him, sexually spent but still eager to share a hungry kiss with his lover. "If you were worried before, I forgive you."
"I should f*cking hope so," Daphne said, leaning against him. "Trust me, I'll never question how much fun you can be again. We should clean up and get going."
"Yeah," Harry said, glancing at the clock. "Tracey will be here soon."
"Yup," Daphne smirked. "She'll be so happy we made up."
And she would, Harry knew. Although … maybe he would not tell her how it came about.
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