Got Toast?

thephotoman

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 18/06/2003
Last Updated: 18/06/2003
Status: completed

A little smutlet involving the married!Pumpkins. Please don't flame me!

Chapters

1. Got Toast?

1. Got Toast?

Tom McCormick Normal Tom McCormick 2 64 2003-06-18T18:50:00Z 2003-06-18T18:50:00Z 3 987 5628 Family 46 13 6602 10.2625 Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

Got Toast?

I don’t own them. If I did, well…let’s not think about that, shall we?

Harry was lying in bed one Sunday morning, after sleeping in a bit later than normal. He didn’t expect to find anyone in his bed, as Hermione was usually an early riser, and didn’t bother him when he did sleep in, which was rare. What was unusual, however, was that he couldn’t seem to get up from the bed. It was as though he was tied to the bedposts.

“Honey! I can’t seem to get out of the bed!” Harry called, hoping that his wife would hear him.

“One moment, dear, I’m coming, and bringing breakfast too!” Hermione called back to her stranded husband.

Breakfast in bed sounded good to Harry, and it also explained why he seemed bound to his bedposts. Hermione must have cast some kind of charm to make sure that he would stay there. She was planning something and Harry knew it.

After ten minutes of waiting and imagining what Hermione could be planning, the door to their room opened, and the sight on the other side rendered Harry dumb.

Hermione, his wife of five years, was standing in front of him, carrying a stack of buttered toast on a plate, wearing nothing but a white thong with the words “Got Toast?” written on it.

“What’s for breakfast?” Harry asked, finally able to say something. The answer, though obvious, couldn’t occur to him as there wasn’t enough blood in his brain to actually recognize what she had in her hands.

“Me, with a bit of toast,” Hermione said, smiling seductively. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“Mmm, my favorite,” Harry said, his voice growing hoarser by the minute.

Hermione then slowly walked over to the nightstand, where she placed the plate of toast, and then moved back to the foot of the bed, so that Harry could take in the sight of her. She stood there for a minute, her hair relatively done up—for her—and falling over her smooth, round breasts, whose nipples were already quite stiff. Her hands fell to the straps of her thong, which she played with for a moment before kneeling at the foot of the bed and grabbing his foot.

“What are you going to do with that?” Harry asked, his breath hitching in his chest with anticipation.

Without a word, Hermione started to suckle on his big toe. Harry had been burning since he had found out about breakfast in bed, but now he was about to spontaneously combust. Who knew that feet could be so…erotic?

Half-formed thoughts began to flood Harry’s brain. They probably would have been fully-formed, had all of his blood not been in his groin. However, Harry didn’t really care. If his wife wasn’t able to give him the kind of massive hard-on he was sporting right now, and he was uncomfortable with her seeing it, he would need major help.

After giving each of his toes on his left foot a proper treatment, she moved to the right foot.

“Hmm, let’s see here. This little piggy went to market,” she said, and then began to do the most amazing things to his toe with her mouth. “This little piggy stayed home.” She moved on to the next toe. “This little piggy had roast beef.” And the next toe was in her mouth. “This little piggy had none.” This time, she took the last two toes into her mouth. Harry didn’t want to guess what came next, as he was too enthralled in her rhyming.

However, instead of finishing the rhyme, she began licking, kissing and suckling her way up his legs. For his part, Harry was just writhing on the bed in anticipation of whatever may come.

“And this little piggy…why he cried all the way home,” she said as she took him completely into her mouth. Harry let out a low moan of pleasure as her tongue moved along his length.

It wasn’t long at all before Harry was thrusting into her mouth, his hands struggling to free themselves from their invisible bonds. Hermione knew that her husband was about to come, but she didn’t want that just yet, so she gave him one last lick and kissed his tip and began to move further up his body.

“Do you want me to undo the binds?” Hermione asked sweetly.

Harry simply nodded. He wanted to touch his wife so badly that it was more painful than his state of arousal. Hermione then reached over to her nightstand, grabbed her wand, and muttered the incantation to free Harry’s hands.

No sooner had she done this than his hands were all over her body, caressing it, fondling it, holding it. As he moved his hands over her derriere, he took the straps of her thong with them in an effort to make her as naked as he was. With a hard grab of her rear, Harry forced the thong down around her hips. She rose up a bit and helped him take it off, and threw it across the room.

“Don’t lose that. I rather like you in it,” Harry breathed into Hermione’s ear as he pulled her body down on top of his.

“I like me in it too, you know,” Hermione replied before her mouth claimed his. She then madly thrust her tongue into his mouth, rubbing it against his as hard as she could. Harry reciprocated in kind, and they spent a good length of time with their tongues impeding their breathing. Eventually, they had to let go.

“But you know what I like in me most? You.”

That was enough for Harry. Without another thought, he swiftly grabbed her round rear, moved it into position, and thrust himself into her. The way she felt around him was the most wonderful thing in the world, so hot, so wet, so tight.

“Has anyone ever told you how exquisite you are, Hermione?” Harry whispered in her ear?

Instead of answering him, she kissed him again, this time with even more ferocity. Getting the message, Harry rolled over and began to move inside her. His burning hands moved up to her breasts, fondling and playing with them. Hermione arched her back to better conform to his hands, and in so doing thrust her hips onto his. Losing her train of thought, her hands reached down and clinched his rear to give her some leverage for her thrusting.

Her muscles were clinching around him now, and Harry didn’t think he could take much more. She was on the edge, and her moaning was getting louder. When she screamed out his name and her muscles tightened even harder in her climax, the situation was enough to push Harry over the edge, screaming out her name.

When Harry had come down from his own climax, he gave Hermione a sweet kiss as he pulled out of him.

“Good morning, Hermione,” he said, slightly dumbstruck.

“Oh, and happy birthday, Harry,” she replied, kissing him. “Here, have some toast.”

Author’s notes: I’d like to blame the good folks at pumpkinpie.org, who actually sell the “Got Toast” thong that inspired this little drabble.