Landlord ch.5

"Well, at this moment? Yes, I guess you could say that. I really enjoyed today, it was a lot of fun."

"It was. Honestly, I haven't had such a relaxing day in ages," she replied. She stared at him for a long while, a strangely drawn-out moment, intensifying her gaze, then she smiled a small, slightly mysterious smile and turned away. His gaze wandered back to her fantastically thick ass. He considered jerking off in the shower, but figured that might be too obvious.

Fuck, this was supposed to be difficult.

With a quiet sigh, he went through the house, turning off the lights, making sure everything was ready for the night because, truth be told, he was tired enough to sleep. He had a vague notion of maybe doing some work, but no, he just couldn't. It was his first night in the house, and he didn't plan on spending it alone. Not that he had anything against it.

When everything was done, he brushed his teeth and peed (he had already showered earlier, after moving everything into the house), and then grabbed a book from the shelf, which he placed in the living room. Entering his bedroom, he saw the absolutely unreal sight of Daphne lying in his bed, under the covers, reading a book.

This was really happening. He was really going to sleep in bed with this woman. It didn't seem real.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he replied. "Just... takes some getting used to."

She furrowed her brow and set the book aside. "If it's too weird or you can't sleep with someone else in the same bed-"

"No," he interrupted, walking over to the bedside table and turning on the lamp, then walking back and turning off the overhead light. "It's not a problem, it's just... different. Really different."

"Has it been a while since you had a woman in your bed?" she asked, her tone only slightly teasing. "Yeah, actually," he replied.

"Oh... I'm sorry," she murmured.

"It's okay. Like I said, I'm trying to work on myself. Although I haven't had the best luck there, if I'm brutally honest," he said, climbing onto his side of the bed and settling in.

"Really? Weren't you pursuing... ah, what was her name? Ginny? That Weasley girl. Weren't you together back in Hogwarts?"

"Yeah. Didn't work out. She... actually laughed at-" "Oh wow, I'm so sorry," Daphne replied. Genuine sympathy in her voice and written on her face made him look at her. "Seriously, that's awful."

"Yeah, well, it's in the past," he replied with an awkward shrug.

"I never understand how cruel people can be, or why," she muttered. Then she sighed and returned to reading.

He joined her, and for a long, quiet, and pleasant time, they lay together in bed, reading.

It was peaceful, though somewhat tense on his part. He had another erection and wasn't going to... deal with it.

Finally, she placed a bookmark in her book and set it aside on the small bedside table she had on her side. "Well, I'm too tired to keep reading. I think I'm calling it quits for the night."

"I'm right there with you," he replied, doing the same. Then he hesitated. "Does, uh, it need to be quiet for you to fall asleep?"

"No, why?" she replied. "I mean, I can't have a party in the other room, but I can't imagine that's what you're asking."

"I got used to having lo-fi playing softly in the background while I sleep. It helps me fall asleep. If you don't mind..."

"No, it's your house, and it sounds quite nice," she replied. "I've heard some lo-fi and liked what I heard."

"Great."

Harry got up and walked to his dresser. He had bought a small music set just for this purpose. He already had the player set to the right disc, loaded with a playlist. He set it to play, adjusted the volume to be very soft but not too soft, and then got back into bed after turning off the lamp.

The room fell into almost darkness, with only the faint light from the street lamps outside. The wind was gusty, stronger now.

He could hear Daphne breathing. Harry lay on his side, facing away from her, and tried to fall asleep.

It must have been five minutes before he heard Daphne sigh. She shifted. Closer to him? He felt his breath catch in his throat as her foot brushed against the back of his leg. It sent a jolt of pure desire through him. He waited for her to apologize for hitting him, but she didn't say anything. She did it again, slower, more gently, caressing the back of his leg.

Finally, she sighed again, louder. "Really, Harry? Are you going to make me beg?"

"What?" he asked, surprised. He turned onto his side. "What do you mean?"

She turned to face him, looking at him in the dim light. She seemed frustrated. "What do you mean, what do I mean? How much more obvious can I make it?" He stared at her, genuinely bewildered, afraid he had missed something big and important. "You really- Harry! It's obvious that you're into me. You've been staring at me during every meal. You've been doing it all night. I mean, I get it, you want to be respectful, but come on, I'm not... I mean, you don't want to fuck me?"

He blinked in genuine shock. He never expected it to be so blunt. "I mean... of course, I do," he replied.

"So why haven't you made a move?!" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"I didn't want to... take advantage of your situation. I mean, you came here, you were betrayed, you're probably going to get fired, you don't have anyone else to turn to... you're clearly in a vulnerable state of mind. Not to mention, you're way out of my league, of course I didn't hit on you."

She stared at him for a long minute, one that uncomfortably stretched and stretched. "You're actually serious, aren't you?" she muttered.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" he replied.

She seemed to consider and discard several things to say, then seemed to relent. "Just tell me, do you want to have sex with me or not?" she asked. "Do you?" he asked.

"Well, of course, I'm offering!" "Are you sure it's a good idea?"

She seemed to stumble over her words. He stared at her in the dim light. She looked... wrong, disoriented, and surprised, with a strange kind of desperation in her eyes.

"Will you just answer the question?" she finally asked, looking tired all at once. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, as if she were exhausted from all the nonsense life had thrown at her. "I just need to know."

"Yes," he replied, "of course, I want to have sex with you, Daphne."

"Then can we? Because I simply... need it right now." She hesitated. "I don't want to force you, I... just... fuck," she whispered.

"Daphne, I do. Intensely," he responded, reaching under the blankets, finding her hand, and taking it. Their fingers immediately laced together. Her touch was warm and electrifying. She stared at him intently. "I didn't think you'd be interested."

"Well, I am," she said. "So if you're going to make your move, make your move."

Something seemed to shift inside him then. It was intense desire, stronger than he had felt in a long, long time, saying something, but it was more than that. A strange sense of dreamlike reality was stretched to its limits and seemed to burst, as if he had been freed from some invisible constraint that had held him.

It no longer mattered that Daphne Greengrass offering him sex was an impossible event for him. All that mattered was that she was here and offering, and he saw no obvious reason to refuse her.

She was hurting and came to him for comfort, and wasn't that what sex was all about? Or could be, at least?

Harry knew that it would certainly have helped soothe his despair, unhappiness, or intense loneliness so many times if he could just have sex with someone.

So he stopped thinking about impossibilities and probabilities and began to focus entirely on the immensely tall, voluptuous, absurdly attractive blonde lying across from him in his bed, looking at him with a gaze of mixed desire, temptation, and unease. She had said she needed it right now.

After everything that had happened, he could certainly understand that.

So his mindset shifted, and he focused on giving her the absolute best time he could. Not just because it was likely the only time it would happen, but because he cared about her.

Honestly, she was the only person he seemed to genuinely like or care about anymore.

Harry moved closer to her, under the large blanket they both lay beneath, and nestled against her long, curvy, warm body. Slowly, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. She trembled slightly under his touch, and he leaned in until his face was next to hers. It felt so strange to be this close to her, staring into her eyes, which now seemed to glow in the dim, subdued light of the bedroom.

He kissed her.

Daphne let out a moan and visibly shivered as their lips met. She rolled onto her side, facing him, and leaned in for the kiss. A wild tremor of desire and excitement ran through Harry as she placed her hand on his hip and pressed her body closer to his. He could feel her ample breasts against his chest now.

Being desired felt good.

Being desired by someone he had desired for over a year, someone he believed was beautiful enough to be a world-class model, was something entirely different.

He parted their lips and slid his tongue into her mouth. She moaned louder and extended her own tongue forward to meet his.

The taste of Daphne flooded his mouth as their tongues intertwined. The meeting was initially shy, but soon heated up, their tongues dancing together. Harry slid his hand lower, then managed to slip it under her shirt, higher, until he found one of her massive breasts. She was a well-endowed woman, but the fact that she was so tall meant her tits were even larger than they seemed. He didn't like to think of himself as particularly preoccupied with breasts, but...

They were amazing, and he couldn't help but revel in their sight.

She was breathing heavily as they kissed, their mouths and tongues engaged in a passionate dance, and his hand fought to reach her breast. He felt so hot, full, and smooth, and it was like being struck by a sexual lightning bolt. It ignited his need for her, made him absolutely crazy and desperate. He released her breast and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her even closer to him. After a moment, he sat up slightly and pushed her onto her back, still kissing her, still doing it with her passionately. However, something nagged at the back of his mind. Something important. Something he had to do before he actually went all in.

"Daphne," he said, breaking the kiss.

"What now?!" she gasped, panting, staring at him wide-eyed. It was actually a little frightening to see her so... aggressive.

"If you change your mind, just tell me," he said. "I don't intend to change my mind," she replied, then hesitated. "And you? Do you want to do this, right?"

"Yes, I do, very much. But I just want to be sure -". "Well, then calm down, Harry, I'm fine with it. I want it just as much as you do."

It was hard for him to believe, but he quickly wanted to rid himself of the shirt he was wearing. In an instant, it vanished into nothingness, as if disintegrated by magic, and then he lay opposite her and resumed touching her. She immediately deepened the kiss and once again engaged her tongue with his. Harry slid his hand lower, intending to go back under her shirt, but at the last moment, he changed his mind and slipped it into her shorts.