Watching and Waiting
Harry was distracted. Despite the beautiful day, despite the peace, despite the dozens of friends and family members who had come to the Burrow for a huge end-of-summer party, all he could think about was the sight that had greeted him that morning, when he had wandered into Ginny's room to call her down for breakfast. Even hours later, standing in the yard supposedly talking Quidditch with Ron and Seamus, Harry felt his cock twitch and strain against his boxers at the memory of his girlfriend laying on her bed, her hands between her legs, the sundress she had planned to wear that day hiked up around her waist.
Ginny had rigged the wards on the door to her room so that no one but Harry could enter unannounced. So intent was she on her task that she had no idea he was there, and Harry could do nothing but stare, mesmerized.
She was leaning back against the pillows piled on her bed, eyes closed, her legs bent at the knees. One hand grasped the inside of her thigh, as if to hold it in place, but Harry saw her thumb, moving back and forth, slowly rubbing the sensitive skin. The other hand . . .well, seeing it and what it was doing made Harry's breath hitch in his throat and everything below his belt tighten. Almost unconsciously, he reached down to grab himself through his shorts, feeling himself grow hard, but unwilling to focus fully on his own needs, lest he miss something.
She was not wearing any knickers. Her hand was moving in lazy, but tight, circles around the small, firm nub that Harry knew lay just above her clit. It was the place she always liked him to start when they were together, a warm-up to later activities. Her fingers obviously knew exactly what they were doing, for even as Harry watched, she clenched around her hand for a moment, her hips lifting off the bed and then falling back, the circles of her fingers growing faster.
Ginny's legs fell open wider and Harry found himself with a clear and unobstructed view of her mysterious parts, the ones he had been trying to learn and master ever since the two of them had become intimate. From his angle, he could see every one of her soft folds, swelling and darkening now around her warm opening as her hand above became more frenzied. Ginny's hips were thrusting more regularly against an invisible partner, and without breaking the rhythm of her circles, her other hand snaked over and positioned itself, thumb gently against her clit, two fingers teasing themselves around her entrance, but not yet disappearing inside.
"Ohhhhh," she moaned suddenly, as if with relief, and then grunted as her fingers finally penetrated.
Harry had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle his own groan. He pushed his cock against his hand roughly, needing release, but knowing that if he gave into his own ache, he wouldn't be able to focus fully on the sight before him.
He looked then at Ginny's face, and it was nearly his undoing. Her head arched back against the pillows of the bed, her teeth grasped at her lower lip, her brow furrowed as she concentrated. Although Harry had brought Ginny to climax many times before with his lips, his hands and his cock, he had always been too focused on his task, or on his own mounting pleasure, to watch Ginny's face in detail. It was a sight to behold. As Harry gazed at her, her breath began coming in shorter gasps and he glimpsed her tongue work its way out to lick her lips. Her hips thrust first down into the mattress and then up again, pushing firmly against her hand. Glancing back down, he watched as she clenched around the fingers buried deep inside, squeezing and grinding, and he throbbed, imagining his own length pushing aside her hand to seek entrance, filling her more fully than she could herself. But he couldn't tear himself away from the sight enough to move.
Harry steadied himself against the wall, barely aware that his own hips were grinding into his hand, thrusts matching hers. So often he had masturbated to this exact image and yet, seeing it before him for real was more intense than he could have ever imagined. The soft mewing sounds now coming from Ginny's mouth, the look on her face that said she was so close, and trying to draw it out as long as possible, the soft, musky scent that rose from between her legs, reminding him of all the glorious times that he had buried his face in her, exploring and tasting and bringing them both pleasure.
Harry didn't think he could stand it for much longer, and he had moved his hand to his own zipper, needing to get inside and have release, when Ginny suddenly grunted "Harryyyy." Harry started, afraid he had been caught, but Ginny's eyes were still screwed shut. Her back arched up as she came, and Harry watched as she trembled, her legs shot out, stiff and straight, and then tightened around her hand. Harry could see the tiny, but intense contractions around her fingers, as her entryway opened and closed in its own rhythm, vibrating with contained energy that Harry could practically feel flying off of his girlfriend. She pumped her hand gently a few more times, squeezing out every bit of pleasure, lightly stroking her clit, and jumping when her ministrations shocked the sensitive flesh.
Harry backed out of the room then, not realizing until that moment that he had left the door wide open. For some reason, he didn't want to disturb Ginny or the look of intense pleasure and calm that graced her features as she tried to control her breathing. He could hear Molly downstairs still calling everyone to breakfast, but Harry had to make a first, quick stop in the loo. His wank was physically relieving but not terribly satisfying otherwise. He wished he could have finished himself while still watching Ginny bring herself to orgasm.
And that was why Harry had been distracted the rest of the day. Every time Ginny brushed a soft kiss on his lips or ran her hand absentmindedly across his shoulders as she passed him his entire body tingled with want. He volunteered for as much physical activity as he could to help get the Burrow ready for the party, desperately trying to keep his ever present erection under control. In retrospect, it might have been better to alert Ginny to his presence in her room. They could have had a quick shag and Harry would not have found himself trying to picture Hagrid in a thong bikini in an attempt to keep his arousal hidden from everyone. But even in the face of such difficulties, there was a part of Harry that was enjoying his secret. More than enjoying, really. It was a fucking turn on, remembering Ginny, knowing that even she had no idea what he had seen. That was part of the problem. Harry was spending as much time trying to relive the sights and sounds of her bedroom as he was trying to banish them away so he could focus on, well, walking and talking. Quite frankly, walking and talking were overrated.
As more and more of their friends arrived at the Burrow, Harry was temporarily able to push his memories of the morning from his mind. He was a bit more attentive, and Ginny stopped giving him quizzical looks and asking him if everything was alright when he missed answering a question of hers for the third time in a row. They broke out the butterbeer and Firewhisky and as the day waned, Harry began to believe that he would in fact be able to survive until later in the evening to make good on all the fantasies that had been running around in his mind all day.
And then everyone decided to go swimming after dinner.
One look at Ginny in her ice-blue bikini, her hair pulled away from her face in a messy pony-tail, and all the blood Harry believed he had in his entire body rushed to the space between his legs. He was hard before he even had time to contemplate the fact that he was wearing nothing more than a thin pair of bathing trunks that did nothing to hide his condition. Praying that no one had noticed, he dove suddenly into the water of the pond, thankful for its murkiness, and swam halfway across before he was under control enough to stand up again. He would just have to avoid looking at her, or touching her, or being anywhere near her, for a while.
Ron had already grabbed Hermione around the waist and was lifting her to his shoulders for a chicken fight. Ginny threw herself into Harry's arms, seemingly having no idea what she was doing to him, and started climbing up his own body to face Hermione.
Harry couldn't help it. As he grabbed her arse to lift it higher, he quickly slipped one finger inside the bottom of her bathing suit, sliding it into her as far as he could reach and then wiggling it a bit. She gasped, her entire body tensing as Harry pulled her to him, his face now even with her crotch, which he kissed through her suit before withdrawing his finger and boosting Ginny the rest of the way to his shoulders. She looked down at him from above, a calculating and slightly breathless look on her face, as he innocently smiled back at her and then slowly licked his digit of her wet warmth.
In response, Ginny tightened her legs around him from above and rocked her pelvis into him, all the while calling out to Ron and Hermione to start the game. Harry was suddenly excruciatingly aware of the location of her clit, pressing into the back of his neck, and he swallowed hard, praying that the look on his face didn't give anything away. He stayed firmly in the deeper portion of the pond where the water could hide the erection he was now powerless to command. As Ginny and Hermione began to wrestle each other up on the boys' shoulders, it was all Harry could do to stay in control as Ginny alternately thrust herself down on him or subtly shifted and tightened her legs. After a minute, he realized she was doing it on purpose.
It was no good. Pretending to trip over a stone at the bottom of the pond, Harry stumbled forward until Ginny toppled off his shoulders and into his arms. Quickly righting her in front of him he pressed himself firmly against her backside, groaning into her hair with relief at the feeling of pressure she provided against his ache.
Ginny leaned her head back so that her mouth was at Harry's ear. "Is this why you've been so distracted all day? Because you're randy?" The amusement was evident in her voice.
"No," growled Harry, thrusting himself firmly against her again as he slowly backed the two of them into the deeper water, not really caring who saw. "I've been so distracted all day because I watched you. This morning in your room." They were now deep enough for Harry to slide his hands down from Ginny's waist and slip them inside her swimsuit bottom. He grasped her hips on either side and pushed her into him, lifting her a bit so that her arse rubbed against his penis, now so hard he could see the tip pushing out of the top of his swim trunks. "Before breakfast," he said meaningfully, pushing against her back again.
Ginny sucked in her breath and shivered at his words, and at the feeling of his want pressed so firmly against her. She swallowed hard, before saying thickly, "I was thinking of you, you know. I couldn't just call you up to my room and I didn't think I could get through the day otherwise." Her voice took on a suggestive timbre. "What exactly did you see?"
Harry still had his hands inside Ginny's suit, and now he began to stroke her gently, the cool water adding its own ticklish presence to the sensation of his fingers.
"I saw you touching yourself, rubbing against that place you love me to caress, right about your clit, you know?" At this, Harry moved his hand to the spot, adding just the right amount of pressure as he began to circle. Ginny moaned then, leaning her head back against his shoulder, and he felt her shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.
The two of them had been moving slowly the entire time and now found themselves in a part of the pond that was shaded by overhanging trees. Although they could hear the party on the opposite bank, they were hidden by the branches that dipped low into the water and the deepening dusk, and Harry gave up all pretense of trying to control himself.
"What else did you see, when you watched me?" Ginny's voice was low and quiet.
"I saw you move your other hand to your clit, and begin to rub it. I saw your fingers slip inside and swirl around."
"I was imagining that they were your fingers, that you were on top of me."
"Like this?" Harry inserted his fingers into her opening. His other arm was holding her waist and as he teased his fingers around inside of her he rubbed Ginny from the outside, below her navel, push her up and down on his hand.
"Yeah," Ginny gasped, adding her own movements to his.
"And then," continued Harry, swallowing hard to try to gain some control, "and then, you called out my name, and I watched you come." He tightened his grip around her, struggling as he grunted into her hair. "Wanna . . . make you . . . come again. Want . . . to come . . . inside you. Now."
In response, Ginny turned around, sighing a bit as Harry's fingers slipped out of her. She pulled her swimsuit bottom off and Harry grabbed her arse in both hands, lifting her to him. She leaned over enough to push down his swim trunks and he eased her onto his shaft, groaning in relief.
Harry didn't think he could have gotten any harder, but he was wrong. They had made love standing up before, but always Harry had to focus on things like balance and not dropping Ginny, and fatigue in his arms. But now, as Ginny began to slide up and down him, the water supported most of her weight so that all Harry had to think about was the fact that he was not going to last long at all. He had been thinking about being inside her all day, and there was no way he could draw this out.
"Oh god, Ginny, I'm close," he gasped, finding her lips with his and pushing her down into him.
She stopped for a minute, tightening her legs around him, and he felt her tighten her muscles inside, around his shaft, at the same time. He groaned again, thusting. "I think I'm gonna come, Ginny, I have to come."
"Not yet, you're not," she muttered, moving her hand down to the space between them. "Not until I'm there too. Hold on." She moved her hand against herself as Harry began raising and lowering her around him, struggling with the effort to wait.
"Ginny . . ." It was the most delicious agony.
"Almost . . ." Ginny was panting. "Almost there . . . Oh!" she suddenly cried out, her legs tightening around him. "Now, Harry!"
And he let go, his orgasm almost knocking him sideways into the water. "Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," was all he could say for a moment as he pumped into her, the angle of their bodies allowing himself to penetrate more deeply than he would have thought. His arms shaking only slightly, Harry slowly came back to himself, thankful again that the water supported them both. He slid Ginny down to a standing position in front of him and wrapped his arms around her, grinning, before lowering his head for a long kiss.
"Was it worth the wait?"
Harry could barely form words. For the first time that day, he was totally relaxed. "Mmmm," he muttered into her hair, swaying in the water, enjoying the feeling of the small waves lapping against their bodies.
She smiled up at him and then grabbed his head, pushing it down towards the water. He gave her a quizzical look. "You want me to do that, under water? Right now?"
"No, Harry," said Ginny with a smirk. "I want you to find my swim bottoms."