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Hermione’s palm gently wrapped her wand.
– Do you want this, Harry? – She again looked him straight in the eyes.
– Do you want this? She bent her fingers slightly, bending her wand.
Way down.
– It’s necessary.
– Harry tried to answer also look into her green eyes.
Trying to ignore, as the end of the wand, pressed under the pressure of Hermione’s fingers to her delicate skin just above her chest, slowly slides down from top to bottom between two beautiful hemispheres.
– So.
need to.
He faltered a bit.
The wand, sliding down from above its satin skin, meanwhile crawled to the very bottom of the abdomen.
Under the pressure of Hermione’s skillful fingers, wagging a little from side to side in slightly glittering folds.
Her breathing increased.
“If you really want to apply a magic wand to me,” she said slowly, still not taking her eyes off him, “who then can stop you?” With a fleeting motion, she licked her lips.
Harry felt that he simply could not look at her, could not break eye contact, although a part of his mind was at the same time a few feet lower – and with his peripheral vision he unusually clearly distinguished everything that happened there, with Hermione’s deft finger movements, the tip of his own wand.
As if playing, Hermione momentarily forced her wand with another pirouette to dive a little deeper between crimson folds of blood-filled flesh – and immediately turned her fingers away, giving Harry Potter her magic wand.
Filled with paint to the tips of his ears almost as thick as Ron, Harry felt that his fingers, clutching a piece of magic inventory, involuntarily continued to follow the rhythm set by Hermione.
What is he doing? He should now pull out the wand, send it to Hermione and immediately shout out “Avada Kedavra!” – No, that is, “Auto Krazio.”
Instead, without taking his eyes off his swollen, slightly parted lips and breathing harder than Hermione, he lowered his wand a couple of inches in quick motion and pushed it deep into it.

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Hermione moaned softly, head thrown back.
– Yes.
He introduced the wand deeper.
Turned.
She moaned wilderness, blushing even more brightly.
Her palms, which had been hanging loosely on the sides before, involuntarily clenched on the hips.
– Still.
What is he doing with her? Harry saw Ron with side vision, rising again and approaching Hermione from the back, perceptibly embarrassed, which could be based on an obvious mound on his trousers, pulling out a magic wand.
Apparently, realizing that the friend does not control himself, he decided to intervene in the situation himself.
One of Hermione’s palms, which had previously squeezed her thigh, dived with an elusive pirouette behind her back and, with a familiar movement, intercepted Ron’s wand.
“How did she know?” Flashed through Harry in the blink of an eye.
– After all, there seems to be no eye spell on the back of the head.
Is that if we both wanted him in secret.
“- Ron,” she breathed, not leaving her prostration.
Her breathing, in any case, remained the same a little quickened, and her eyes half-closed.
– Would you like to join?.
She whispered rather than spoke.
The words flew out of her mouth along with new agitated exhalations.
– Lower the wand below.
Whisper her lured, beckoned.
– A little bit.
Her fingers, clinging tenaciously around the tip of Ron’s magic wand, slowly slid down, leading the aforementioned wand to the space between the resilient, fragrant buttocks.
Here the tip of the wand almost reached a small darkish hole and, as if dancing, made several tapering turns around.
On the gentle, slightly sweaty skin.
Again.
Again and again.
“Bold, Ron,” Hermione Granger whispered, almost frowning, releasing Ronald Weasley’s wand from her fingers.
Harry did not see his face, but he could well assume that the same internal struggle is now reflected in him, which tormented him not so long ago.
A moment later, Ron’s shoulder shifted slightly – and through Hermione’s sharply widened eyes, the sudden change in the rhythm of her breathing, Harry realized where his friend’s wand had just slipped.
– Oh yeah.

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Again not a whisper.
Rustle.
Looking at Hermione’s face — suddenly suddenly dreamy-inspired, expressing now a complete focus on internal sensations, at times trembling from the awkward movements of Ron Weasley’s magical instrument in the rear, and sometimes distorted in the grimace of bliss — Harry suddenly obeyed the elemental impulse of obscure nature, appearing from somewhere inside, and with a sudden push, he deepened his own instrument almost halfway between the doors of the wet cave. Xxx video www cam.

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