Chapter 42 - Tables & Toilets IV

Ron suddenly dived back in, flicking her kernel of pleasure with his tongue as both his hands widened her thighs with force. With his palms at the base of her thighs, his fingers found their way to her love hole, spreading her petals wide as two digits went into her core, plucking in and out as her nectar dribbled to the chair.

"Ooh~" Narcissa whispered melodiously, both her hands clutching the sides of her seat.

Ron felt the raging thirst of his cock throb, aching to fill up the woman, his enemy's mother, an accomplishment in itself. But he knew fucking there was a risk. So, he kept eating her pussy and fingerfucking her cave of wonder, wanting her to submit willingly on her own.

Narcissa, overwhelmed by bliss, threw her head back as she bit her own lips red, trying not to alert the person upstairs. Her hands combed through Ron's hair. Thoroughly enjoying the way his tongue lapped her up and devoured her senses. She was lost in ecstasy.

Ron, using his free hand, took out his cock from the zipper and started stroking himself, enjoying the view from below. The way her smooth legs parted for him, her magnificent breasts jiggled like jelly under her blouse, and her flushed face moaned silently with her red lips parted; everything about her was so erotic he couldn't help himself.

His head locked there by her legs, he kept eating her up like the most delectable treat he had ever tasted. Her nectar felt divine, like a fine aged wine with hints of roses. His tongue started to thrust into her, bringing out more and more of her juices, slobbering all over her pussy and his own jawline.

"Ohhh… No…ahhhh~" She finally let out a sultry whimper, struggling to keep it as low as possible. Her thighs clamped onto Ron's head tightly as she went over the edge of infinity.

Even if she kept a tight lip, her flooding walls betrayed her reckless, overwhelming lust. Her last barrier of control burst open like a crumbling dam. Her toes curled as they tried to dig into the floor, her neck arched back, and her body stiffened. She rode the waves of splendor as her sweet honey coated Ron's tongue, layer after layer.

Meanwhile, Ron's tongue tensed up inside her too, as he brought himself to pleasure with his own need. His cock throbbed with each stroke, finally gaining that sought-after heavenly bliss. His seeds burst out, and large droplets landed on Narcissa's small feet, staining her toes and making them all sticky as they wiggled.

None of them said anything as Ron moved Narcissa's clamped legs around his face and got out from under the table. He wearily pulled back a chair, and sat down, feeling the exhaustion seeping in. He took a napkin from the table and wiped his cock clean, finally realizing how reckless he was being.

"You need to leave!" Narcissa cried, waking up from the sexual trance, and quickly pulled her skirt down. "Please, I beg you… I… I can't fall so low in Draco's eyes."

Ron scratched his chin, looking like he was giving it a good thought as he zipped up his pants. "Low? Well, I was sort of thinking I'd crash here for the night. I mean, I've got my eye on checking out both the top and the bottom, you know?"

"No!" Narcissa panicked, scared of her own voice. "I… I shouldn't have said that… I'm no longer interested, Mr. Weas—"

"So you don't want the safehouse? From the Weasley 'pest' as your son calls me?" Ron looked at her.

Narcissa's breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her skirt as she swallowed hard, knees clenched tight.

After a moment of hesitation, she gave a brisk nod. "Y-yes... He's... oblivious. We'll... talk later, Mr. Weasley... At the Burrow... Leave now. Please."

"Alright." Ron agreed and stood up from the table. He hadn't shed any clothes, so he stretched his back and looked at Narcissa standing up and fixing her clothes.

But the very next moment, she walked in a rush. She grabbed his hand and dragged him behind, leading him to the main door. But she didn't open it, scared Draco might see him from the upper floor window.

"Don't get seen by Draco upstairs," she pleaded.

Ron nodded, his gaze fixated on her face. Her worrisome eyes, her slightly disheveled, but still beautiful hair, and her godly curves. He felt a twitch in his rising swell once again. And the very next moment, he felt confidence ooze off his mind, heart, cock, and apparently hands as well.

"Ah!"

Ron abruptly scooped Narcissa's waist and pulled her closer.

He suddenly kissed her, suckling on her lips with fervor, eating up her exhale of shock. At first, she didn't respond, but he eventually got a tight squeeze between her lips and got to taste her.

His one hand rested on her plump breast, but he didn't squeeze. As much as his cock wanted him to, he simply let her feel his wide palm on her sensitive mounds, gently rubbing his thumb on the bump below the blouse and lace.

"Yeah, well, figured I couldn't leave without getting a taste of that red lipstick," he grinned, finally opening the door. "Peach, I like it."

Too shocked to make any sense of it, Narcissa just stood there dumbly. She touched her lips with her fingers eventually, feeling the wetness of Ron's warmth still lingering there.

She couldn't believe herself, why her heart thumped.

Thud!

But she shut the door in the end. She still had to pick up her panties and clean the floor under the table.

"Ah…" But then she realized something and looked down at her feet, sticky with a gooey liquid on all her toes.

####

After leaving Narcissa's home, Ron rushed back to 12 Grimmauld Place. From there, he used the Floo Network to reach the Ministry For Magic as quickly as possible. Thanks to Amelia's trust in him, his name was permanently registered in the Minister's directory of allowed visitors, just in case he had to see her urgently.

This was one of those moments. He arrived and took rapid steps to the elevator. Then, he arrived in front of the minister's office. He saw the new Senior Undersecretary already standing in front of the closed door—none other than Shacklebolt.

"Wait a moment, Mr. Weasley. The Minister is speaking with Professor Dumbledore," Shacklebolt advised him.

"Old man's here?!" Ron exclaimed, not wasting a second before giving the door two quick knocks and then turning the knob. "Don't worry, they'll understand."

Once again, he felt the difference between outside and inside the office. The place was too mysteriously magical. The high ceiling only made everything feel much more imposing. But he walked forward, his eyes fixed on two figures at the table.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore reacted, his gaze fixed kindly on him, his fingers idly tracing the edges of his silver beard. "What brings you here? Shouldn't you be buried deep in your studies for your upcoming OWL examinations?"

"I definitely would if I didn't have the Dark Lord putting a bounty on my head, Professor," Ron replied and glanced at Amelia, noticing her gaze being very gentle towards him. "Minister Bones, I've learned of a plot. He will attack the Ministry sometime soon, and his goal will be the Department of Mysteries. Specifically, he wants the prophecy about Harry."

Dumbledore and Minister Bones looked back at each other for a moment as if talking with their mere gazes. Then, they looked back at Ron.

"Not just that, the plan is to first help the rest of Death Eaters break out of Azkaban," Ron added, wondering if he was sounding like a lunatic as he couldn't give them his source.

"And who told you th—"

"I can't tell anyone, Professor," Ron replied, "But it does add up, doesn't it? I mean, if you think about it, what's You-Know-Who been chasing after all this while? He has failed four times trying to catch Harry. Now he's fixated on how to do it right."

"He's not wrong." Amelia took his side and relaxed in her chair, reclining, her significant belly visible.

Dumbledore briefly sighed and glanced at Ron again. "You came here rushing. Did you think of a plan to deal with it too? I heard about what you said to Minister Bones—You refused to go to the safehouse."

"Not without Harry," Ron snapped back, his Gryffindor courage shining through. "Professor, Minister, why not set up a trap? If we strengthen security at Azkaban, it'll just slow down You-Know-Who's plans, not stop him. We know where they're going to strike this time. Let's destroy the prophecy, with Harry's say-so, of course. Stick a fake one in there that screams like a Mandrake when you touch it, alerting the whole Ministry.

"And when that happens, we hit them with Anti-Disapparation Charms. Lock down the Ministry tight, turn it into a fortress, and catch the Dark Lord and his lot in one fell swoop. Bet there'll be a few Ministry folks under the Imperius Curse, so let's keep this plan between us and the topmost leadership of the Order, like Sirius and the others."

Ron didn't know how he brought up the courage to lay out his plan to them, but he felt very confident and satisfied after finishing his speech. He just went by his instincts, like he always did nowadays.

"You planned all of that?" Asked Amelia Bones, her elbows resting on the desk while her chin was on the back of her folded hands. She stared at Ron with a rare faint smile. "You have to join the Ministry after Hogwarts. You'll make a fine Auror."

Ron looked down, his heart suddenly throbbing for no reason. Why am I blushing at her praise?

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