"Damn Rosier!"
"Thinking he can wash away his sins like this?"
Selina downed a large mouthful of Emerald Whisky forcefully. The amber liquid burned down her throat, but it couldn't quell the raging anger in her chest.
Selina's knuckles rapped hard on the table, making dull thud-thud sounds.
The witches sitting opposite Selina looked at each other. One with short, sharp hair advised: "Selina, he's not just an ordinary orphan of the Rosier family now. Since his return from that other world, hearing that he made repeated extraordinary achievements there, he's a hot commodity now. Those old guys up top can't wait to praise him to the skies."
Another long-haired witch echoed: "Yes, although this brat is the last bloodline of the Rosier family, this mission has indeed won him a lot of prestige. The talk about the Rosier family being Dark Wizards faded with time anyway, let alone now. Moreover! The Rosier family only has him left now; those accusations have long lost their target. After all, no one would point fingers at an infant in swaddling clothes back then."
"Ha!"
Hearing these words, Selina's face became even darker.
Her red lips were almost bitten to bleeding, nails digging deep into her palms.
She said nothing, unknowing what she was thinking, just quickly pouring the whiskey in her hand into her mouth.
As cup after cup of wine went down, Selina's pretty face, already tinged with drunkenness, became increasingly crimson like a ripe pomegranate.
Her eyes were misty with water, unable to focus. Her body leaned softly deep into the sofa. Her usual fierce and ruthless temperament was washed away by alcohol, leaving only thick fatigue and a trace of imperceptible fragility.
Her friends finally breathed a sigh of relief seeing her like this.
Although they couldn't make her let go of hatred completely, at least under the anesthesia of alcohol today, she wouldn't bring up those depressing topics temporarily.
The atmosphere in the private room returned to relaxed again. Everyone continued to toast, laugh, and curse, drowning all the unhappiness of daily life in the enthusiastic noise.
"I really can't hold it anymore!"
Cho Chang mumbled again.
Cho Chang's urging voice made the tense air lively again.
"Alright, come in!"
Jerry responded loudly.
With a soft click, the heavy wooden door was pushed open a crack.
Hermione and Cho Chang's figures appeared swayingly outside the door.
"Jerry! You..."
Hermione's chestnut brown hair draped messily on her cheek, eyes misty. Seeing Jerry, she instinctively wanted to walk over but was yanked hard by Cho Chang. Losing balance again, she staggered a few steps and almost fell.
Her flushed face showed anxiety and some drunkenness. Before she could finish speaking, Cho Chang beside her let out a rapid and unbearable low moan.
"Woo... can't hold it..."
Cho Chang's clear oval face was now red as a ripe apple, eyes watery, body so soft she was almost hanging on Hermione.
A suspicious water mark had begun to appear on the hem of her wide wizarding robe.
Hermione tried hard to support Cho Chang's body but found herself weak and limp too. The two swayed like two willows in the wind. Cho Chang's hands clutched her robe tightly, seeming to want to stop something, but the magic of alcohol had completely occupied her reason.
Splash!
With a soft sound carrying heat, accompanied by wet warmth, Hermione instinctively felt warmth on her leg.
Then, a stream of warm liquid carrying the sweet scent of mead flowed down her robe along her calf slowly.
Hermione looked down and saw Cho Chang's wizarding robe hem was already wet. The liquid soaked the dark fabric, leaving a dark mark, and under the dim light, emitted a unique smell, slightly salty with sweet wine aroma.
"Oh my god! Cho Chang!"
Hermione cried out in shame and urgency, feeling her cheeks burning even hotter.
Cho Chang herself was unaware. She just shivered dazedly, hummed comfortably, and fell completely onto Hermione softly, pressing half her body weight over, the corner of her mouth even hanging a silly satisfied smile.
Wet, hot liquid flowed constantly down between Cho Chang's legs, spreading on the dim restroom floor, forming a small puddle reflecting weak light.
Isabella saw this, a trace of knowing helplessness flashing in her emerald eyes. She drew her wand quickly, chanting a spell softly.
The water stain with a strange wine scent on the ground vanished without a trace instantly; the moisture in the air seemed drawn dry instantly too.
She quickly cast a Cleaning Charm and a Drying Charm on Cho Chang again, restoring her robes to dryness rapidly.
Hermione's face flushed red. She tried hard to help up Cho Chang, who had completely lost consciousness, but staggered and almost fell again.
Fortunately, Jerry had quick eyes and hands, stepping forward to support her.
Jerry supported Hermione steadily. Their bodies almost completely fitted together in this small space.
Hermione's cheek, dyed red by alcohol, was very close to Jerry's neck. Her soft breasts rubbed against his arm constantly due to unsteady standing. That warm and elastic touch made Jerry's breath hitch involuntarily.
Hermione tried to stabilize her body. She looked up, her brown eyes widening instantly upon touching Isabella aside.
Hermione's face became hotter instantly, stammering: "Senior... you guys..."
Isabella saw Hermione's embarrassed appearance, a trace of amusement flashing in her emerald eyes.
She said nothing more, just smiled lightly. That smile carried a bit of meaningful understanding.
Extending a slender finger, she scraped gently on Jerry's cheek. That action was gentle and intimate, carrying an exclusive possession.
Her voice was sweet and lazy, like a cat's whisper: "Jerry, I'll go set up the array first, no rush!"
With that, she brushed past Hermione without looking back, leaving a faint scent, and walked straight out of the restroom.
Tall figure, full buttocks swaying with her steps.
Blech!
Just the moment Isabella walked out of the room, Cho Chang, lying by the sink, suddenly burst into violent vomiting sounds. The mead drunk before mixed with food residue in her stomach, vomiting clatteringly into the sink.
That sour smell spread instantly, covering the sweetness of alcohol.
Hermione looked at the sound, seeing Cho Chang's painful appearance, burning with anxiety.
Gently breaking free from Jerry's support, she walked quickly to Cho Chang, patting her back gently while comforting softly: "Cho Chang, feeling better?"
Cho Chang shook her head painfully, tears and snot flowing down her face mixed together, looking exceptionally wretched.
Jerry looked at Hermione's concerned back, but an indescribable heat surged in his heart.
Isabella's gentle scrape before leaving, and the tacit understanding belonging only to the two in her eyes, were like a fire, instantly igniting the long-suppressed impulse in his heart.
Hermione struggled to help Cho Chang vomit for a while. Seeing her recover slightly, she signaled Jerry to help together.
Jerry stepped forward. His warm palm pressed on Hermione's palm, which appeared somewhat sweaty due to tension and busyness.
Their hands overlapped. In the process of helping Cho Chang up, intimate contact was inevitable.
Cho Chang finally couldn't hold on anymore, sliding softly to the floor, head leaning on the edge of the wet toilet, emitting light snores.
Hermione sighed helplessly. Alcohol plus vomiting made Cho Chang fall into a deep sleep completely.
At this moment, only Jerry and Hermione remained in the restroom.
The air was filled with fresh potion scent and the sour smell of alcohol mixed with gastric juice, but this didn't affect the intensifying desire in Jerry's body at all.
Gaze falling on Hermione's slightly messy hair due to busyness, then moving down slowly until her rosy, alluring, inexperienced lips.
Jerry put his arm around Hermione's waist gently, pulling her slightly toward himself.
Hermione was stunned, a trace of confusion in her drunken brown eyes.
Just as she was about to ask, Jerry had accurately kissed her lips.
Jerry's lips and tongue entangled with Hermione's. He could feel Hermione's lips were soft and moist, carrying the sweet scent of mead.
Jerry's tongue tip traced the shape of Hermione's lips, then gently pried open her teeth, sliding in.
Hermione's body stiffened for a few seconds first, then under Jerry's gentle licking and sucking, her body softened gradually.
Her arms wrapped around Jerry's neck, responding to his kiss inexperiencedly.
Kissing and kissing, Jerry felt his lower body hard to the point of pain. He could feel liquid wetting from his lower abdomen bit by bit, sliding down his legs. That sticky feeling made him exceptionally hot.
Arm around Hermione's waist, pressing her against himself more forcefully.
Finally, ending this lingering and touching kiss.
Hermione's breathing became heavy, rosy cheeks tilting up slightly. Those brown eyes seemed filled with intoxicating alcohol, carrying a bit of childish confusion and innocent desire.
"Did you look for me... for a long time?"
Jerry's voice carried some raspiness. His arm wrapped around Hermione's waist, palm pressing on the soft skin of her waist dimple, feeling her body slightly hot from alcohol and desire.
Although Jerry had just returned from outside not long ago, he had heard from different people that Hermione had been asking about his news and worrying about his safety during this period. This made Jerry, who had experienced a life-and-death crisis, feel a warm current passing through his chest inexplicably.
Even though Jerry was surrounded by women, Hermione's innocence and care for him always occupied a special place in his heart.
"As long as... you know!"
Hermione looked up, cheeks flushed with enticing pink, lips slightly swollen from the deep kiss before.
Gaze clear yet carrying the unique mistiness of alcohol, staring straight at Jerry. That straightforward liking catalyzed by alcohol flowed out undisguised.
Jerry looked at her cute appearance, feeling the constant rubbing of the petite body in his arms. The meat root under his crotch seemed to expand a circle again, swelling painfully. He lowered his head to kiss Hermione's full lips, small hand stroking gently up along her round buttocks.
"However..."
Hermione suddenly pushed Jerry gently, blinking coyly. Those watery brown eyes rippled with盈盈 water light: "Just busy drinking just now, I'm really hungry..."
She pressed her body close to Jerry again, cheek rubbing his chin gently, saying in a sweet voice with a milky tone: "I want... to eat meat sausage..."
Jerry's breathing became more and more rapid, breath unstable while speaking. That warm breath made Jerry's ear roots tingle in waves.
As she spoke, she placed her center of gravity on her left leg, right leg lifting slightly, toe rubbing the outside of Jerry's thigh.
Jerry could feel the smooth touch of the stocking under Hermione's foot.
White stockings woven with exquisite lily patterns.
Some water stains were rubbed on the black leather shoes, unknown if from the ground or Cho Chang.
Jerry looked at Hermione's watery eyes and lowered his body accordingly.
Hermione leaned gently in Jerry's arm. Slender fingers, with a slight tipsy tremor, reached for her ankle clad in white patterned stocking.
Gently grasping the edge of the smooth sock, moving slowly and full of temptation, peeling it up carefully.
First one, then the other.
Clatter!
Small black leather shoes fell on the ground.
Hermione's toes curled slightly due to previous tension. Toenails trimmed round and small, glowing with healthy pink.
Tilting her head, those alcohol-soaked brown eyes looked at Jerry wetly, eyes full of naked invitation.
Hermione didn't speak, just hooked her lips into a faint smile with a bit of slyness, like a kitten sizing up its prey.
"Meat sausage... before eating it... use here first."
Hermione's voice carried drunken raspiness. The moment she exhaled slightly, warm breath hit Jerry's ear directly.
Body pressing toward Jerry, but just as Jerry instinctively wanted to respond to her embrace, Hermione suddenly used force with both hands, pushing Jerry caught off guard.
Jerry lost balance from this sudden force, staggered, and fell straight backward.
Too late to make more reactions, with a bang, his back hit heavily on the cold tile floor, making a muffled sound.
Jerry lay on the floor, watching the ceiling sway slightly in his vision.
Hermione's petite body dove down almost simultaneously, straddling Jerry's lower abdomen. Her weight was already considered too heavy for a boy of the same size.
This sudden pressure made Jerry feel his chest a bit stifled.
Hermione's dress was a bit messy due to the action just now, skirt hem flipping up to reveal her thighs wearing white knee-high socks.
Stockings strangled her calves round and tight, full of elasticity. The root of the thigh appeared more voluptuous and soft.
From under the skirt hem, one could vaguely see it was already completely soaked due to being tainted by alcohol and desire.
A unique scent carrying girlish fragrance and moisture hit Jerry's face directly.
"Now, it's my time."
"Mr. Jerry!"
Hermione's voice was lower than before, carrying an aggressive initiative.
Hermione's hand reached for Jerry's shorts, flexible fingertips landing accurately on the zipper.
Amidst a slight zip sound, the hard copper zipper was skillfully pulled down by Hermione. Fabric loosened, revealing the long spear full to bursting hidden just now.
Hermione raised her hand, grasping the strange long spear very skillfully. The scorching temperature and massive size, even though experienced more than once, contacting again at this moment still made Hermione's breath hitch abruptly.
First using index and middle fingers to pinch the purple-red swollen tip, feeling its faint pulsing beat, then circling gently on the umbrella-shaped tip.
Feeling crystal water droplets emerging from there, fingertips wiping gently, bringing a trace of stickiness.
Subsequently, Hermione carefully peeled off Jerry's shorts and underwear completely, revealing Jerry's lean but smoothly lined waist and abdomen, and what was completely exposed to the air below.
"Want... to eat it..."
Hermione looked up, eyes carrying greedy firelight.
Fingertips sliding gently on his thick meat root, stroking from the root all the way to the tip. Every light touch was like igniting a fire, accelerating the boiling of blood in Jerry's body.
Size almost similar to the length of her own forearm, carrying astonishing width.
Hermione exhaled gently. That warm breath with alcohol sprayed softly on Jerry's inner thigh, causing goosebumps to rise.
Hermione withdrew her hands, moving slowly down along Jerry's inner thighs.
Jerry then felt that Hermione's two feet were now encased in her white knee-high pantyhose. That white silky nylon material, carrying a special friction, grazed the skin of Jerry's inner thighs continuously.
"I want... to use this... to play with you first."
Hermione's voice carried a bit of feigned temptation. Fingers sliding along the edge of the white pantyhose, gently to the knee bend.
Jerry's two thick thighs were pushed gently by Hermione, separating at a not-small angle.
Soft legs stretched forward smoothly. Those two feet encased in white pantyhose began to wrap around Jerry's desire jumping uneasily in the air.
The nylon material of the white pantyhose, carrying a wonderful touch smooth yet slightly astringent, rubbed gently from Jerry's side.
Hermione's soles were soft and elastic, encased in white pantyhose, constantly bringing waves of sticky and comfortable feelings.
Stocking-clad toes hooked back and forth on that swollen meat root.
Jerry only felt an irresistible impulse surging from deep in his body, a low muffled groan emitting from his throat.
"Mmh... baby... use your feet."
Jerry's voice carried thick raspiness. Every airflow rubbed deep in his throat, as if trying hard to suppress the fire of desire in his body.
Subconsciously lifting his waist, wanting to seek deeper touch.
Hearing this, Hermione's mouth corners turned up slightly, revealing a satisfied smile.
Feet wrapped tighter. Those two feet wearing white pantyhose were like two cunning snakes, wrapping Jerry's thick and hard meat root tightly.
Hermione's big toe pressed against that swollen massive tip, rubbing gently with the friction of the stocking.
It was a subtle touch between rough and smooth, both rubbing the sensitive texture and buffered by the lightness of the stocking.
Soles together sliding back and forth, using the arch of the foot wrapped in stocking to rub Jerry's stem back and forth. That tight feeling of being completely wrapped made Jerry's breathing heavier.
Jerry could even feel the fine fibers on the socks being soaked by the wet fluid gushing from his lower body, carrying an addictive slipperiness.
"Hiss!
Mmh... Hermione... where did you learn this..."
Jerry's head tilted back. One hand grasped his own thigh tightly, knuckles turning white from excessive force.
Jerry could feel it growing constantly between Hermione's feet, erectile congestion making the tip purple-red and swollen.
Streams of warm transparent liquid seeped slowly down along the fine texture of the white stockings, forming wet sticky foam at their junction due to friction.
"Mmh... is this comfortable...?"
Hermione's voice was close at hand. She leaned her face very close, almost sticking to Jerry's ear. Wet hot breath carrying the mellowness of alcohol scraped gently over the most sensitive part of his auricle.
Jerry's feet accelerated the movement. Joined soles rubbed back and forth on his meat root, relaxing occasionally, then tightening abruptly.
The swish swish sound of white stockings rubbing, mixed with Jerry's low panting and the patter patter liquid friction sound at their junction, formed shameful notes unique to this moment.
Soft toes with the elasticity of nylon stockings separated gently, then Hermione plucked like strumming strings, sliding across the edge of Jerry's tip, then sliding across the front stem, scraping gently from top to bottom. That wet liquid with mucus was adsorbed by the material on the stockings, slowly squeezing and rubbing along the gaps between her toes.
Jerry felt he was reaching the destination. His whole body began to tremble, lower body like on fire, every cell clamoring to be released.
Hermione could feel something warm and thick liquid seemed about to gush down along her instep, dyeing that white stocking.
Body trembling slightly due to extreme sensation, tight muscles on lower abdomen contracting in waves.
Hermione's neck arched slightly. She lowered her head, kissing Jerry's slightly closed lips.
Tongue tip carrying sweetness and moisture, outlining Jerry's lips, then sliding in slowly, tangling with his tongue again.
Hermione's neck arched slightly. She lowered her head, kissing Jerry's slightly closed lips.
Right in this wet kiss, the desire accumulated in Jerry's body for a long time finally broke through the imprisonment.
Lower body thick spear, in a violent spasm, spewed out a stream of heat.
Thick and scorching white liquid, carrying strong momentum, spread rapidly along Hermione's sole and the white stocking worn on the foot.
Instantly, the stocking wrapping her delicate skin seemed coated with a thick layer of white honey.
Visibly to the naked eye, that exquisite fine lily pattern became blurred and crystal bright under the milky white liquid, emitting a special, sweet-fishy and strong masculine scent.
Hermione felt the warm dampness from her sole.
Warm thick liquid wrapped in stocking stuck firmly to instep and toes, carrying a strange greasiness.
Opening eyes slightly, eyes with hazy water mist looked straight at Jerry. There was a trace of astonishment on Hermione's face, an expression of pleasure and confusion interwoven that she had never experienced.
"Jerry."
Hermione let out a faint low cry. Voice carrying alcohol and the shock just experienced appeared exceptionally soft and glutinous with a trace of aggrieved nasal tone.
Toes curled unconsciously inside the stocking wrapped in milky white liquid.
Silky nylon sock surface, heavy due to liquid at this moment, fitting her foot shape tightly. Every subtle movement could feel that thick liquid wriggling and sliding inside.
Jerry panted violently. He buried his head in Hermione's shoulder hollow, feeling the momentary collapse and whole-body relaxation brought by that gushing body fluid.
Paralysis of alcohol and venting of desire made his brain blank temporarily.
Hermione patted Jerry's back gently. Her fingers carried slight tremors, feeling his scorching skin and heavy breathing.
Of course, she knew how big an impact Jerry felt just now. Because she could feel her foot wearing white stocking was being wrapped by his essence. That warm smell carrying sweet fishiness stimulated her brain constantly.
After a while, Hermione's breath finally calmed down.
Hermione wiped the sweat beads on the side of Jerry's face gently with fingertips. Voice recovered a trace of clarity but still carried a rare weakness.
"Don't worry..." Hermione stroked Jerry's cheek gently: "Wait for me... wait for me to become strong, study witchcraft hard.
I will also have the day standing by your side."
Hermione's tone became gentle and firm: "Even if it's the battlefield you are going to in the future, I will accompany you."
Hermione raised her body slightly, arms hugging his head, lowering her head to kiss his forehead.
"Wait for me, okay!"
Jerry looked at her.
In Jerry's impression, Hermione was always so stubborn, but at this moment her eyes were clearly firm, carrying some sacred color.
Jerry responded softly: "Okay, I'll wait for you."
Getting Jerry's promise, Hermione smiled sweetly like a child getting candy.
She propped herself up carefully, moving her legs away from Jerry's side.
Lowering head, looking at that pair of white knee-high stockings already completely soaked.
Mixed with marks of her own feet and milky white essence left by Jerry on it, this scene was somewhat filthy, yet revealing a weird beauty.
Hermione raised her hand. She used fingertips to peel off the stocking soaked with thick liquid from her leg bit by bit.
The stocking wrapped her skin tightly originally; now lubricated by body fluid, it became abnormally slippery. She moved very slowly, bit by bit, feeling the cold air contacting her skin again, which was slightly hot due to long-term wrapping.
Stocking moving up along the calf until completely taken off.
Hermione balled up that pair of stockings already soaked by Jerry carefully, as if treating an extremely precious object.
Fair jade-like foot, slightly red due to bearing scorching liquid just now.
Toes curling unconsciously in the air, skin still stained with spots of wet sticky liquid not yet absorbed.
Hermione slowly brought the wet stocking to her lips. Her gaze stayed on the sock surface of one foot, tongue tip gently licking that wet sock surface.
Liquid carrying a trace of fishy sweetness, also mixed with faint taste of mead, stimulating her taste buds.
Looking up, those eyes soaked with water light looked at Jerry again, eyes carrying a trace of provocation smoked by desire.
"Mmh... so sweet..."
Hermione let out a satisfied sigh, hooking her body. Wet tongue tip like a small snake, swimming slowly on her own toe tip, collecting the liquid flowing on it bit by bit, patiently.
Below, round toes wriggled, carrying faint flush due to the movement just now. Crystal liquid seeped from between toes, becoming more slippery and alluring...
"You've been corrupted, Hermione!"
Jerry's voice carried a husky magnetism as he narrowed his eyes slightly, staring intently at Hermione.
His gaze fell on the moist corner of Hermione's mouth, where a trace of milky white residue unique to Jerry still lingered, crystalline and seductive.
Hermione's cheeks, flushed from alcohol, were now damp, her nose wet as well, like a small animal just emerging from a stream.
Hermione stuck out her tongue slightly. She circled the tip of her tongue around her mouth, carefully licking the flowing liquid, completely disregarding her image at this moment.
The liquid with its unique sweet and fishy taste was rolled into her mouth and swallowed slowly.
Hermione's actions carried a primal innocence, yet also an undisguised, budding wantonness.
"But I like it!"
Hermione felt his fingers scorching hot. Where his fingertips rubbed against her skin, it was like igniting a tiny flame that quickly set her body ablaze.
"Jerry, I like you too!"
Fingertips pressed against Jerry's chest, Hermione could clearly feel his strong heartbeat. Every thump seemed to strike her nerves.
"Jerry..."
Jerry lowered his head. His nose gently touched Hermione's earlobe, cool breath spraying on her auricle, bringing a numbing itch.
His voice became lower: "Hermione... give it to me."
Hermione's movement stiffened for a moment, but immediately, under Jerry's guidance, she raised her head slightly from Jerry's chest, trembling. Her face, dyed beautifully moving by alcohol and desire, was covered with fine beads of sweat.
Fingers fumbled somewhat clumsily for the stocking she had just taken off. She balled up the wet white stocking, still stained with Jerry's essence, and offered the bundle to Jerry.
The stocking, wet with essence, now shimmered with an unnatural light, carrying a unique sweet and fishy smell.
"What's wrong?"
Jerry looked at the limp stocking in Hermione's hand. He chuckled low, leaned close to Hermione's ear, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear: "You know what? This thing... might teach a certain annoying professor a good lesson..."
But neither noticed that not far away, Cho Chang, who was sleeping soundly against the wall, had increasingly steady breathing, as if trying hard to suppress her emotions.
"Well well!"
"Isn't this our great hero, Mr. Jerry?"
Just stepping out of the restroom door, a lotus-root-like arm wrapped around Jerry's neck. The owner of that arm was Isabella, who had been guarding the side.
Isabella tilted her head slightly back. Those emerald green eyes held a smile, like containing two crescent moons.
Her red lips curved up, breathing like orchids, brushing gently over Jerry's cheek.
"So, what bad things was the little hero doing hiding here alone?"
Isabella's voice was sweet and cloying, carrying a trace of teasing.
Her gaze swept behind Jerry, then turned to his empty hands.
Although her gaze didn't linger on the ground, it seemed she had already seen through everything.
Jerry could feel Isabella's flexible waist swaying gently at his side. Having just experienced a venting of desire, his body was slightly tired, but Isabella's nearly provocative action raised a ball of heat in his lower abdomen again.
Lowering his head, nose against Isabella's smooth forehead, their hair entangled intimately, making a rustling sound.
He didn't answer directly, just returned a meaningful smile.
Fingers moved up along Isabella's smooth arm line, stroking her elastic arm muscles gently.
Finger pads felt the power contained under the skin, carrying a bit of masculine roughness and conquest.
Jerry could feel Isabella's body tremble slightly from his touch, yet she snuggled closer, like a clingy little snake.
"Oh, stingy, still hiding it?"
Isabella pouted coyly. Her body leaned closer to Jerry's direction, that extreme softness almost pressing Jerry into the corner.
Perky buttocks rubbed silently past his inner thigh, causing Jerry's lower abdomen to heat up again.
Isabella leaned closer, almost embedding herself completely into Jerry's body. Her warm lips brushed seemingly inadvertently past the most sensitive skin of his earlobe.
"If you don't explain clearly, this prefect will have to search personally."
Her voice became low and seductive, like a feather gently scratching Jerry's heart.
"Oh, stop it."
Jerry was embraced by Isabella. He could clearly perceive the two elastic soft mounds on Isabella's chest wriggling slightly between breaths.
The thick spear in his lower body swelled again in just a few breaths, propping up the hem of his slightly restrictive wizarding robe with a fiercer posture.
"Hee hee!"
Isabella's hands wrapped around Jerry's buttocks. Thighs exerting slight force, she easily lifted him off the ground, letting Jerry's legs wrap around her waist.
At this moment, the hem of Jerry's wizarding robe was lifted high due to his erection. Like a gorged python, thick and long, the head held high pressed against the center of Isabella's lower abdomen.
The length of Jerry's forearm was now level with Isabella's full breasts.
"Put me down quickly!"
"No!"
"Call me big sister!"
Isabella's tall body easily carried Jerry, who was several sizes smaller than her, and walked quickly toward the wall on one side of the corridor.
The astonishingly sized thick and long desire under Jerry's crotch pressed closely against Isabella's lower abdomen due to this posture.
With every step she took, it rubbed gently against her soft abdomen, bringing waves of indescribable touch.
As a master of arrays and restrictions, Isabella merely glanced at the wall, slender fingers tapping gently on the wall with silent ripples.
A wave invisible to the naked eye spread in the air; spatial folds undetectable by others appeared instantly.
The Undetectable Extension Charm space, unheard of and unbreakable by ordinary wizards, was effortless for this Pure-blood wizard from an ancient and powerful wizarding family.
As simple as rubbing a Deluminator.
As a fine, almost invisible crack appeared on the wall, Isabella, holding Jerry, flashed her graceful figure and disappeared into it together.
Everything in the corridor returned to normal instantly, silent and empty, as if everything just happened was an undetected illusion, never existed.
In the private room, the air was filled with strong alcohol fumes and the cloying fragrance of various women's perfumes.
Wine bottles on the table were askew; many empty bottles rolled on the soft carpet, making dull collision sounds.
Selina's cheeks were crimson, her whole person softened into a puddle.
She half-lay in the luxurious sofa. Her clothes were mostly open at the chest, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin and deep cleavage.
Those eyes, usually alert and sharp, were now covered with a layer of mist, emitting a dazed look.
The other witches were no better.
A tall, sexy combat witch—Anita, was currently resting her head on a huge magic cushion, two long legs poking out from under her skirt, resting unscrupulously on the edge of the coffee table.
Saliva hung at the corner of her mouth, occasionally emitting one or two indistinct murmurs.
The collar of her usually meticulous uniform was long undone, revealing a shallow scar on her neck, a mark left by frontline fighting.
Sitting next to Anita was a petite medical witch named Lilith. She clutched a wine glass tightly in her hand, but the wine inside had long been spilled completely.
Cheeks flushed, mouth still humming an unknown tune, voice raspy after getting drunk.
A head of blonde hair usually coiled neatly also fell loose; a few strands stuck mischievously to her alcohol-dampened cheeks.
Selina's friends had all just rotated from the front line with the Pseudo-Olympus Pantheon world cluster.
Although, compared to the entire wizarding world, the friction there might only be considered "small skirmishes," for every wizard fighting bloody battles on the front line, "small friction" was enough to evolve into a fatal accident.
Returning from the edge of life and death to the relatively peaceful rear, this strong contrast made alcohol the best anesthetic for them in this relaxed moment.
"I say, Selina!"
Lilith raised her hand vaguely, pointing at Selina, "Where did you say you got that... cough... new wand you wrote to me about last time? Is it handy to use?"
Her words elicited a burst of laughter from the others.
Anita laughed loudly, her already large breasts trembling uncontrollably.
"Lilith, how do you know how long Selina has used her wand? Is your wand too short?"
Saying this, she deliberately glanced down under Lilith's skirt, followed by another round of knowing smiles.
Lilith didn't show weakness. Blushing, she retorted: "So what if my wand is short? Long wands are useless if they have no strength and can't get in after poking for half a day, aren't they?"
As she spoke, she gestured vaguely in the air with her fingers, causing the women in the room to laugh even more. One even spilled wine directly on her chest, not bothering to wipe it.
Hearing these dirty jokes, Selina's dazed eyes rolled slightly, a trace of rare shyness appearing on her face.
She stammered: "What... what are you talking about..."
Her voice was soft and糯, her usual competence and sharpness gone.
"What are we talking about? We're talking about men!"
"Aren't men just like the wands in our hands? Length, thickness, feel—you only know after using. Size isn't absolute; the key is strength and technique!"
"Exactly, exactly!"
Sitting up abruptly from the sofa, Anita's hair scattered messily, but her eyes were surprisingly bright.
"Lina is so right! A pseudo-god disciple Paladin I met at the border last time looked majestic usually, but that thing under his crotch was about the size of my thumb. I just got close, and his pants were all wet!"
Saying this, Anita pouted in disgust, causing all the witches present to burst into laughter.
Another witch beside Selina, who had remained silent, chimed in at this moment: "You are still too young. I think Behemoths are nice, pity mine is too small. If I want to try, I have to use the Engorgement Charm to enlarge it..."
"Tsk tsk tsk, Evelyn, you have such heavy taste!"
Lilith slapped the coffee table, laughing back and forth: "But I heard the Five Chromatic Dragons are the most powerful! Not only big but also hard enough, can play several positions at once. Most importantly, they can transform into handsome young men!"
She spoke with dancing eyebrows, an abnormal flush on her face.
Hearing this, although Selina's eyes were still a bit dazed, the corners of her mouth curled up slightly, revealing a meaningful smile.
She casually grabbed an empty wine bottle from the coffee table, shook it a few times, the residual liquid inside making a dull gurgle.
Her slender fingers played with the cold bottle, saying nothing.
"Selina, what are you smiling at? Thinking of some boy?"
Anita caught Selina's expression at a glance and immediately teased with a weird look in her eyes.
Selina paused slightly. She shook her head gently, the mysterious smile on her lips becoming richer.
She neither denied nor confirmed, just playing with the wine bottle in her hand, letting her friends guess.
Seeing Selina like this, the other witches in the room also got interested.
The usually high-and-mighty Deputy Head showing such girlish shyness was truly a rare delight.
Raising a wine glass, the residual liquid swayed under the light, reflecting her cheek.
"Come, let's guess which handsome wizard she's thinking of? Is it that first-year blonde cutie? I heard he's tall and handsome now, even made the national Quidditch team! Or that little bastard who always smiles in Potions class? How about... we play a game. Whoever guesses right gets Selina to perform a... hehehe..."
The words dragged out at the end, the implication self-evident.
"I guess!"
Evelyn responded first. She slapped the table, making a loud bang, shaking several empty bottles on the table.
"I guess it must be that black-haired Asian who turned Selina's face green in third year! I heard he's exceptionally gifted, that size, it's huge!"
Saying this, Evelyn exaggeratedly gestured with her two fists to indicate the hugeness.
"Oh!"
Everyone made ambiguous noises; the atmosphere in the room instantly became hotter.
Lilith waved her hand laughing, almost sliding off the sofa: "Evelyn, your news is too well-informed, right? Could it be you peeked?"
Evelyn pouted drunkenly, threw an empty wine glass into the air, caught it steadily, and shouted: "Men, looking from the outside is enough! I'm not like you, having to pester people to try!"
"What did you say!"
"You slut!"
As soon as these words came out, the women in the room burst into louder and more unbridled lewd laughter than before.
Anita laughed so hard she sprayed the wine from her mouth. The liquid flowed down her chin to her chest; she was too lazy to wipe it, letting the liquid soak her collar.
Lina was even more exaggerated. She lay directly on the sofa, legs spread wide, the scenery under her skirt fully exposed.
Amidst this noise, Selina suddenly noticed a usually lively friend in the corner—Hess.
This brown-haired witch was unusually quiet tonight, just pouring wine into her mouth cup after cup, her expression somewhat stiff.
Selina frowned, walked over unsteadily with her wine glass, and sat down beside Hess.
"What's wrong?"
Selina's own tongue was a bit tied. She reached out and put her hand on Hess's shoulder.
Hess looked up. A trace of extremely brief clarity not belonging to drunkenness flashed in those eyes, but was soon replaced by mistiness.
Hess's smile came a beat slower, the arc of her mouth appearing somewhat deliberate.
"Nothing... just..."
Hess paused, fingers rubbing the rim of the wine glass, the movement carrying a certain unnatural precision. "I'm under investigation."
"What?" Selina's eyes widened.
Hess lowered her head, voice carrying just the right amount of dejection: "Contact with the front line had problems. Higher-ups said my response was untimely, need to investigate for a while."
She downed the wine in one gulp, the movement of her throat swallowing slightly larger than usual. "I can't return to the front line anytime soon."
At these words, the other witches quieted down.
Anita reacted first. She walked over swayingly, patting Hess's back hard: "Fuck those bureaucrats! We fight desperately on the front line, and they only know how to nitpick!"
"Exactly, exactly!"
Lilith also came over. Too drunk to stand steady, she lay directly on Hess. "Hess, don't be sad, we'll drink with you!"
Lina raised a wine bottle: "Come on, no one leaves sober today!"
The atmosphere in the room heated up again, but this time with a few points of tragedy.
Wine bottles were opened one after another; liquor poured into these women's throats like water.
Hess drank along. Her movements were fluid and natural, but occasionally when swallowing, throat muscles contracted in a slightly different way.
Time passed minute by minute. The women in the room fell one by one. Anita lay on the table, still cursing indistinctly.
Lilith slid directly to the floor, skirt hiked up to her waist, revealing her entire buttocks. Lina curled up in the corner of the sofa, emitting light snores. Evelyn hugged a cushion, saliva hanging from the corner of her mouth.
Selina couldn't hold on either. She leaned on Hess's shoulder, eyelids getting heavier. Hess supported her, movements gentle but carrying a certain mechanical feel, like completing a task rather than out of genuine care.
When the room quieted down completely, leaving only rising and falling snores and sleep talk, Hess's eyes suddenly became clear.
Hess gently pushed Selina leaning on her away, stood up, gaze sweeping over these dead-drunk witches.
A cold arc curled on Hess's lips. That expression was completely different from the previous "Hess."
That clarity revealed a trace of indifference and majesty not belonging to mortals, as if brilliant stars flashed deep in her profound pupils.
However, this brief revelation of divinity disappeared quickly.
"Someone is coming!"
As if sensing something.
Hess's body swayed, cold sweat beading on her forehead. Her originally ruddy face turned pale. Finally, seemingly unable to support herself due to drunkenness, she collapsed softly back onto the sofa, making a soft muffled sound. Hess fell into a deep sleep again!
Just as Hess fell, a crack almost invisible to the naked eye opened silently on the wall of the private room.
A small figure shuttled out quickly—it was Jerry.
Jerry poked his head out, looking out. Isabella's beautiful face flashed in the blur, carrying a bit of anxiety: "Hurry up, little bastard! I can only maintain this passage for five minutes at most! Or the entire Extension Charm will collapse."
Jerry didn't hesitate at all.
He took a pocket-sized magic sachet from Isabella and gently pulled the drawstring.
A burst of pale pink mist, carrying a sweet hypnotic floral scent, instantly filled the entire private room.
Wherever this mist went, the originally restless sleep talk quieted completely. The witches slept deeper, breathing steady and long, faces carrying sweet flush, as if fallen into the most peaceful dreamland.
This was a "sleep-aiding spell" specially prepared by Isabella for this moment, its efficacy far exceeding ordinary calming potions.
Confirming everyone had fallen into deep sleep, Jerry's gaze locked onto Selina sleeping on the sofa.
From his bosom, he pulled out the ball of white knee-high stockings soaked with Hermione's and his body fluids.
The stockings seemed heavy due to being stained with thick liquid, emitting a unique, sweet-fishy dampness carrying Hermione's girlish scent.
Jerry looked down at Selina, a flash of vengeful pleasure in his eyes.
Hahaha. Bending down, fingers slender and flexible, using the end of the stocking stained with slime, he gently pried open Selina's slightly parted red lips, stuffing the sticky stocking ball into her mouth without any pity.
Action rough and direct, forcibly making those sticky smells mixed with Hermione's body temperature and Jerry's body fluid fill Selina's entire mouth instantly.
In her sleep, Selina subconsciously let out a muffled "Mmh!" nasal sound but didn't wake up. Just frowned slightly, as if chewing some sweet soft food with flavor, saliva flowing down the corner of her mouth, wetting her chin.
Having done all this, Jerry straightened up. He looked around again, gaze immediately landing on Hess fallen on the sofa not far away.
Hess's figure was taller and more voluptuous than other witches present. The loose dress now piled together due to her drunken posture, outlining thrilling curves.
Her clothes, open at the chest due to violent impact, were almost defenselessly open, revealing proud fullness.
"Hmm?"
Jerry walked toward Hess almost instinctively.
Although Jerry was only half the height of an ordinary adult, appearing exceptionally petite in front of the voluptuous and tall Hess, there was no fear or hesitation in Jerry's eyes.
Reaching out, his small palm formed a sharp contrast with Hess's full breasts.
Fingertip touch was soft and elastic, like touching fine silk, or touching full fruit. Pressing down slightly, he could feel the heat and weight filling inside.
Jerry's finger pads rubbed gently on Hess's full breasts, exploring inward bit by bit along the edge. Fullness and warmth transmitted through thin fabric made the meat root in Jerry's lower body jump again, propping open the wizarding robe more forcefully than before.
Jerry's hand patrolling on Hess moved slowly down, passing her flat yet still soft lower abdomen.
Jerry's hand continued down, finally stopping on Hess's two long crossed thighs.
One of Hess's feet poked out from under the skirt due to the drunken posture, exposing the bare sole without shoes or socks.
The foot shape was slender and beautiful, toes round and carrying healthy pink, the arch of the foot elegant and carrying a trace of pure holiness.
Jerry knelt down. He held Hess's slender ankle with one hand.
Lifting her sole, then stroking gently along the gaps between her toes with finger pads.
Nose close to Hess's dainty toes, sniffing a unique and holy fragrance.
Immediately, Jerry's gaze turned to Hess's voluptuous buttocks.
Hess's skirt slid up slightly due to the tilted sleeping posture, revealing a small half of white, round buttocks.
Jerry's small hand covered Hess's buttocks gently. He almost had to use all his strength to barely grasp Hess's elastic and weighty curve. That amazing size made Jerry feel his small palm almost sinking completely into it.
Jerry's fingertips slid gently along the edge of her buttocks, feeling the flexible curve of her body.
The reason Jerry noticed this witch.
Besides her proud figure.
Was when he unconsciously cast his gaze on her.
An unprecedented energy form similar to white luster shone in the depths of her consciousness, clear and dazzling.
That luster was not magic fluctuation, nor the glow of ordinary souls. It carried a vast and pure, yet blasphemous taboo temptation.
Jerry's heart beat wildly uncontrollably before this strange scene. An indescribable desire for conquest and destruction exploded in his heart like plucked strings.
This was an impulse of a mortal wanting to pull a god-like existence down from the altar when facing it directly, a strong, improper, yet unstoppable blasphemous thought.
Jerry stood up slowly. His small stature appeared even smaller beside the drunken Hess on the ground.
He looked up, gaze falling on Hess's full and slightly parted red lips.
Lips appeared exceptionally moist and full due to alcohol soaking. A trace of faint wine scent mixed with her unique breath wound in the air faintly.
"Tsk tsk!"
Jerry's heart drummed. He lifted his thick desire, touching it gently, tentatively against Hess's soft, slightly parted lips.
Heat and softness intertwined, roughness and moisture collided.
Hess's lips were like the most delicate rose in early summer, carrying a warm soft touch, while Jerry's swollen purple meat root was hard as steel. Just a moment of contact created a shocking contrast between the two.
That huge and hot column head, carrying the mark of desire, rubbed gently against the skin by her lips, leaving a string of crystal sweat beads.
Hess in drunkenness let out an extremely light moan. Her body trembled slightly unconsciously but didn't wake up.
Lips wriggled slightly due to the agitation of desire, like a silent invitation, waiting for Jerry's further action.
Squelch, squelch!
The tip, carrying a strong sense of congestion, pushed open her teeth roughly, slid over her soft tongue coating, advancing straight into the depths of her throat.
The scorching column body occupied her mouth almost completely, bulging her cheeks. Fine sweat beads slid down Jerry's forehead. He could even feel the twitching and contraction of muscles inside Hess's throat, as if instinctively resisting this overly huge invader.
Warm saliva mixed with mucus overflowed from the corner of Hess's mouth, carrying crystal luster, wetting the sofa beneath her.
"Woo... Mmh...!"
Hess emitted indistinct struggling sounds in deep coma. Her brows furrowed tightly, hands clutching the sofa beneath her unconsciously.
However, she never truly woke up.
The huge meat root stirred constantly deep in her throat. Every time carried a unique rough grinding sensation, crushing over the soft flesh of the throat wall. That suffocating squeezing sensation almost made Hess's face flush red.
After continuing a nearly forceful "deep throat" for about ten seconds, Jerry felt Hess's body beginning to show abnormal tremors. Only then did he barely suppress the primitive impulse clamoring in his body, pulling that meat root, already completely wrapped wet and oily by Hess's saliva, out of her mouth with difficulty.
Just the moment the meat root completely left Hess's mouth, a cold and mechanical voice rang abruptly deep in Jerry's mind, which only he could hear clearly:
[Sudden Mission Triggered: The Queen's Secret]