A birthday present for hogwartshoodlum, an author on this site and my husband! He's got some amazing fics on here, I highly suggest them. Anyway, I hope you like this, baby.

AU, set after book 7. Enjoy. Rated M for sexual situation (solo and het) and language.

He really had no idea how much he turned her on, how the slightest press of his skin to hers sent electricity up her spine and, more often than not, straight to her core. He'd really done it this time, Ginny thought, without even realizing it! Or did he? Nah. While Harry was many things, one of them was not clued in. He couldn't know what he did to her, how she longed for him, how she throbbed for him. They'd been going strong for a while now--a year and three months, to be exact. After she'd graduated from Hogwarts and Harry was working for the Ministry, they'd decided to take things to the next level, so to speak. They wanted to wait for each other, but with Harry working so much to get the Auror department back to scratch and her at school, their relationship was put on the back burner. Always there, always waiting to be pursued again, and now they finally had been able to to that.

She'd started playing for the Harpies not long after leaving Hogwarts, and they had decided to move in together six months ago. Harry was sick of living alone, of being a bachelor, and Ginny was anxious to get away from her lunatic mother, who, though she had the best intentions at heart, couldn't seem to realize that Ginny was in fact a grown woman capable of handling her life without her mum standing over her shoulder.

Harry had not been the first boy to hold Ginny's hand, or the first boy to kiss her, but he had been the one she'd given her virginity--perhaps it wasn't much, but it was all she really had--to. Since then, everything in her life had been perfect...until now. Until Harry had surprised her in the shower when she'd gotten home from practice, until he'd kissed her passionately and roughly, until he'd carried her in his arms back to their bedroom and laid her on their maroon-and-gold bed (some things never change) and inched his lips--wet, warm, pulsing--to her hips. He was teasing her, she knew, but he had every intention of finishing what he'd started, and it wasn't like he didn't want and the release as well, his generous member was fully erect, as far as Ginny could tell. And when he'd been positioned above her, ready to thrust into her, ready to fill her hot center, that bloody owl (an official looking little monster straight from the Minister's office. She'd kill Kingsley the next chance she got) had practically busted through the bay window and flown straight for Harry's head.

So, off he went, to serve wizarding society in whatever way he could, leaving his insanely horny and extremely frustrated girlfriend behind. Well, if she could've had her way, she'd be riding Harry like a fucking horse right now, and then after that orgasm maybe he'd want to fuck her from behind--he'd always liked the vantage point, the view, he'd said. She didn't know if she really believed him, but he came easy enough, not that it was a bad thing. She could pull off a trick or two with the movement of her hips, and if he enjoyed it, well, who was she to deny him that?

She slammed her head onto the pillow behind her, raking her fingers through her damp hair. God, she was so fucking turned on. She was naked still, and she could feel the slickness between her legs. It was unfair, horribly unfair. The one night this week practice had gotten over early, the one night Harry hadn't been exhausted, and here she was, willing and wet and utterly alone.

Only one thing to do, Ginny decided, standing from the bed and crossing the room to the closet. After she'd moved in, she and Harry had totally redecorated Grimmauld Place. The elf heads, troll leg umbrella stand, and the cabinets full of Dark tools and books were gone. The elf heads had been replaced with portraits of Dumbledore, Lupin and Tonks, Fred, Sirius, Lily and James Potter, and more of their friends and allies that had perished at the hand of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The offending cabinets had been chucked out, and Harry had taken Ginny shopping, so that now the house was full of matching drapes and comfortable sofas and arm chairs, dark wood curios and shelves and thick area rugs. It was a comfortable, cozy place now, no longer the dank and dark hovel that it had been after many years of disuse. Harry and Ginny had taken Harry and Ron's old room, and in a fit of nostalgia, decorated it like the dormitories at Hogwarts. The bed had gold sheets and a maroon comforter, complete with hanging curtains. The floor was stone, and the walls held posters of various Quidditch teams. There was a fire place at the end of the room, in front of the bed, but Ginny hadn't bothered to light it. She was going to be kept plenty warm, and since Harry couldn't fill that position, it was now up to her to take care of things.

The closet wasn't too large, a walk-in, but she fumbled around until she came across she was looking for--a six inch (one inch less than Harry, but it would have to do) dark blue dildo. She kept it around exactly for occasions like this, when her only choice was to go it alone.

She made it back to the bed and pulled the comforter over her head, dipping her finger in between her legs. She bit her lip as she let out a small moan, and moved her hand so she was rubbing her clit. This made her wetter, although if Harry had been here, had been the one doing it, she'd probably have cum by now.

She trailed her free hand up her stomach and to her right breast, kneading it, pinching her nipple, and that added to the friction on her clit, she knew she was close. But she needed something more, something deeper. She needed to be penetrated, and if she couldn't have Harry Potter's cock up her pussy, this was probably the next best thing.

She positioned the dildo at her entrance, pushing it in slowly, the sensation of being filled--finally--causing her eyes to flutter. She moved it in, moved it out, all the while continuing to pay attention to her nipples, thinking of Harry, of the smell of his skin, the softness of his black mop of hair, the way his lips always found that spot on the back of her neck, and of course, Harry's cock. It was so fucking smooth, so thick, it could bring her to the brink of pleasure and push her over the edge, time and time again.

"Harry, Jesus Harry," Ginny moaned, her eyes shut tight, an image of him above her, pounding into her, playing in her mind. "Fuck!" She cried, gripping her breast and pushing the dildo as far into her as it would go, her pussy convulsing.

Her heart was just slowing down as she heard movement from the other side of the room, and there stood the exact boy she'd been fantasizing about, waiting for, the front of his jeans bulging with his excitement.

"Enjoy the show, perv?" Ginny asked with a grin as Harry approached the bed.

"That was the hottest thing I've seen. Or heard. Holy shit." Harry said, as Ginny tossed the dildo onto the floor--she'd clean it up later. Right now, she had other things on her mind.

Happy birthday tomorrow, baby! I hope you liked it. :)