Brooms and Cocks ch.23

Harry Potter couldn't afford for things to go wrong and didn't appreciate Amelia's joke, which only made the older woman laugh even harder. She saw how stressed he was and didn't let him leave the meeting until she leaned over the desk and relieved tension in her soft pussy. She left with a smile on her face and a sway in her step, while his seed dripped down her thighs, as he returned to work with a clear mind.

There were a thousand things to do before the day they finally flew overseas, and for the past few days, he had only managed to sleep for a few hours each night. When it was time to board the private plane, he was exhausted and barely functioning. He had planned to enjoy a private apartment with Hermione and Amelia during the flight, but as soon as his head hit the narrow bed, he blacked out like lightning.

He woke up to the sounds of loud laughter and music, stepping out of the apartment to find engineers, mechanics, and technicians immersed in their cups. Beer and wine flowed freely, but he only stayed for a few minutes before slipping back into the apartment to finish the final preparations before landing.
That's where his stepmother found him. She stumbled in, her expression relaxed from too much alcohol, and an air of malicious amusement surrounded her. When she noticed him hunched over the small desk, nose buried in paperwork, she emitted an annoyed sound.

"Forget it, Harry. Enough work." She swept the papers off his desk and furrowed her brow as he emitted a growling protest. "You plan to defy your mother?"

There was a mocking tone in her voice, and suddenly he realized he wasn't wearing a bra. As she leaned over, her heavy breasts swayed in the loose top of her dress, and the shadow between them trapped his gaze until he tore it away with an effort of will. A small, delighted smile appeared on his mother's lips as she pulled him to his feet.

"Your father was just like this," she said, her smile turning slightly sad as she wrapped her arm around him and slowly led him to the cabin door. "That man never learned how to switch off and just relax... I guess that's what I loved about him. There was fire in him... I see the same fire in you, Harry. Only you burn much hotter and fiercer than he ever did... Sometimes it worries me."

"It's just because I'm overworked," he sighed. "Once this is all behind us, everything will calm down."

"Don't be so sure. Things have a way of picking up speed, and I think you've got something special here." She stopped just short of the cabin door and turned to him, placing her hand on his chest. "It's good that you have Hermione, Amelia, and the rest... A man of your status should be surrounded by those who support him and... care for him."

"But...?" Harry Potter asked, sensing the unspoken word. His stepmother blushed a deep shade of red, avoiding his gaze, which was rather uncharacteristic of her.

"You'll need a partner... Someone who knows you. Knows your limits and can push back when you're doing too much." Her fingers adjusted Harry's shirt, straightening the collar and unnecessarily fussing with the buttons. Finally, her eyes met his. "You need a woman devoted to you... Not one who owes you."

Harry closed his eyes with her, deciphering the unspoken message, feeling his heart quicken. His fingers lightly brushed her waist, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. But just then, Amelia interrupted.

"The captain signaled that we'll be landing soon," she announced, her gaze darting between Harry and Kate. "You can see the Mediterranean Sea through the windows, come check it out!"

A mysterious smile graced his mother's lips as they left the cabin and waited to land, spotting a limousine waiting on the airport tarmac. They had arrived in Italy, and the next morning, they planned to travel by train to Monaco in southern France. There they would meet the broom, which had been transported separately by plane to the city-state airport. Harry was about to ask if Hermione had arranged the limousine when a stunning brunette figure emerged from the back, dressed in a silky red dress that hugged her figure.

His mother made a dissatisfied sound at the sight of the Italian heiress, while Harry noticed a crease on Hermione's face. Both women watched Eleonora cautiously as Amelia hurried up the stairs to greet her cousin.

"Ciao, Harry Potter!" Eleonora greeted with a wave as Harry Potter stepped off the plane. "Welcome to my country!"

Her hungry smile faltered slightly as Kate stood beside him, and Harry noticed recognition in her eyes as she scanned his stepmother from head to toe. "Thank you for the warm welcome," Harry said, drawing her close and allowing her to kiss him on each cheek. Trying to ignore the sensation of her firm breasts pressing against his chest, he nodded to Kate to approach. "I believe you've met my stepmother, Kate Potter?"

"She wasn't Potter when we met," Eleonora replied, her eyes sharp as she shook his mother's hand instead of hugging her. "But how could I forget Kate? The woman my grandfather was obsessed with..."

"What's this?" Harry interjected, turning to his mother.

"That was decades ago," Kate replied smoothly, with a cheerful expression as she stood face to face with the other woman. "I was just a girl."
"Don't underestimate yourself, Kate," Eleonora said with a smile that could be either genuine or fake; it was hard to tell from her composed demeanor. "Williams was ready to leave his wife and sell his company for you too... All because of that simple photo shoot."

If Harry didn't sense tension when they first met, it was palpable now. Sparks flew as the two women locked gazes.

"Now I'm curious about this shoot," Harry said, diving straight into the tense atmosphere instead of trying to change the subject. He didn't want anger or resentment to escalate; instead, he decided to address all the underlying issues. "What was it for?"

"Just a silly quidditch magazine," his stepmother tried to dismiss it.

"There was nothing silly about it," Eleonora said, a hint of envy creeping into her voice. But beyond envy, Harry felt there was also reluctant respect. "The MagLaren was reissued... Beautiful broom, brilliant advertising campaign. And that yellow bikini you wore... iconic. It set a trend in Europe for years."

"Could we recreate it? For our broom?" Harry asked Eleonora and Kate, who looked at each other in surprise.

"I'm not a teenager anymore," his stepmother protested, blushing and waving her hands in refusal, but Harry caught a glint of interest in Eleonora's eyes.

"Though it might pain me to see you steal all the men's hearts in Europe again, Harry's idea is a good one," Eleonora said, tapping her lip with a long nail. Turning to her assistant, she instructed, "Fetch the framed photo from my office, the one that features her," she pointed to his mother, "in the yellow bikini."

"You can't be serious," his mother exclaimed, her blush deepening. Then she chuckled as Eleonora's words sunk in. "You have that in your office?"

"I look at her every day for inspiration," Eleonora admitted, and something intriguing began to unfold between the women. Their tense atmosphere from moments ago shifted as they studied each other.

"Inspiration to slit another player's throat?" Kate asked, then recoiled in shock as she realized she might have crossed a line. She wanted to apologize, but Eleonora threw her head back and laughed surprisingly loudly.

"I don't encounter many women who are my equal, Kate Potter," the stunning Italian said, linking arms with Harry's stepmother and leading her toward the villa behind them. She turned to offer Harry a lazy smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement, and added, "My people will show you to your rooms. Feel free to explore the city and villages; dinner will be served in four hours. See you later, Harry." With a final wink, Eleonora headed toward the passage, dragging his stepmother along. Harry Potter felt something twist in his stomach as he watched the tension between the two women ease. It couldn't be good for him if they became friends and started exchanging remarks, working behind his back.

"The afternoon is yours," Harry said to his people. "Have fun and don't get too wild. We have an early train to Monaco tomorrow, and we need everyone in top form for the show."

He glanced at Amelia, and she understood his unspoken command, slipping away to eavesdrop on his mother and Eleonora's conversation. Hermione stuck close to Harry as they wandered through the market, admiring the sights. His mind was too occupied with plans and potential problems to fully relax. Giving up on the idea, they returned to the villa.

Harry's dinner with Eleonora wasn't as romantic as he expected. With her budding friendship with his stepmother, she joined them along with Amelia. Conversations were wide-ranging, and the wine flowed freely. Harry was surprised at how much Amelia and her cousin, Eleonora, could drink and still look composed.

He limited his own drinking to a minimum, wanting to set a good example for his people. The food was amazing, and he got lost in a sea of pasta and sauces. Everything was served by old Italian women who shamelessly flirted with him, to the amusement of both Eleonora and his stepmother.