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Fresh Air

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While their friends moved into perfectly sweet little three-bedroom family homes (and Malfoy Manor), Pansy and Parvati thought: penthouse. Child-proofed, of course; there were nieces, nephews and godchildren official and unofficial to think of. But while Parvati wanted a pretty view, and they both wanted a good layout for entertaining, for Pansy a roof garden was a must.

And once they had that roof garden, well.

“No,” Parvati said. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Pansy asked.

“Anyone flying over us would see, and you know how close some wizards get to the rooftops!”

“Then they’ll get a show.”


“Kidding! Of course I’ll put up a shield. Honestly, Parvati, I don’t want to end up in the Quibbler.”

“I was going to say—”

“But it’s hotter,” she said, stepping closer, “to pretend it isn’t there, isn’t it? That anyone could see us, watch us?”

Parvati’s breath hitched.

“Come on,” Pansy said, smiling.

As modern and urban as the decor was inside, the garden was the best approximation they could make of a proper country garden, and now, in mid-May, it was a riot of color. Parvati sat on one of the benches and watched Pansy cast the shield. The overcast sky only made the flowers stand out more and though rain threatened it was still quite warm. And she’d be warmer soon enough anyway, so she pulled off her dress and pants, placing them on the bench, and lay down on one of the grassy patches.

Pansy finished her work and turned to Parvati. “Well don’t start without me.”

“I haven’t,” Parvati replied, then watched appreciatively as Pansy took off her own clothes.

Pansy covered Parvati’s body with her own, Parvati’s legs falling open so Pansy could lay between them, and they kissed, soft and slow. The slight chill had puckered Pansy’s nipples and Parvati loved the nubbly feel of them against her skin. She slipped her hands between their bodies, to make sure those nipples stayed hard, and Pansy gasped into their kiss. Pansy’s hands were running along Parvati’s sides and across her stomach, then out to the hollow of her hipbones. Parvati shifted, pulling her legs up alongside Pansy, and with that encouragement Pansy slid her palms up Parvati’s long thighs, spreading them open even more.

Pansy leaned in closer, bending Parvati’s legs as she did, and whispered in Parvati’s ear. “What if the charm failed?”

Parvati tensed. “What?”

“What if everyone could see us?” she asked, between sucking kisses along Parvati’s neck. “Could see how you spread yourself open for me? How shameless and free you are?”

Parvati leaned her head back, sighing a little, and looked up at the branches that swayed over them. The shield was there; she could just sense the faint distortion it caused. Pansy sometimes teased her for the hypersensitivity to magic being a diviner caused, but in this moment it was comforting—she could relax and just go with the fantasy Pansy was creating.

“Who’s watching?” Parvati asked her, her voice already husky.

Pansy, who had slid down Parvati’s body, chuckled into her stomach. “Jealous blokes and curious girls,” she replied, then kissed Parvati just below her belly button.

“Married girls?” Parvati asked, shuddering as Pansy slid two fingers inside her. She was so wet she could feel her own moisture trickling back down to her little hole.

“You tell me,” Pansy replied. “My mouth is going to be busy for a bit.” She made good on that statement, licking Parvati as she thrust her fingers in and out.

Parvati sat up on her elbows to watch, the sight of Pansy’s little pink tongue against the brown folds of Parvati’s skin almost as good as the feel. “She’s watching you,” Parvati said. “Watching you and taking notes for her husband.” She bit her lip as Pansy curled her fingers to rub against that spot, soft and squishy under her fingertips. “But no spell would let her see that.”

Pansy looked up, grinning, her lips shiny. “I hope not,” she said. She did it again, brushing Parvati’s spot with each thrust of her fingers, and Parvati stopped talking.

She couldn’t even watch, letting her head tip back and her elbows collapse. She grabbed Pansy’s shoulders, needing something to anchor her, lest she flail and kick against the sensations overtaking her body.

But as she came she couldn’t help bucking up into Pansy, thrusting herself into Pansy’s mouth as best she could before collapsing back down onto the grass.

Pansy sat back on her haunches and smugly licked her lips. “You really give a girl a sense of accomplishment, Parvati.”

Parvati smiled. “I try. Your turn?”

“Please,” Pansy said, pulling her legs out from under her and sitting down in the grass, making a tempting enough sight to motivate Parvati to pull out of her post-orgasmic haze.

Parvati sat up and crawled over to Pansy. Their kisses were salty from Parvati, which was a turn on in itself.

Parvati hadn’t been much of a breast woman before Pansy. She liked hips and arses, but breasts she could take or leave, and she’d always found it convenient not having large ones herself. But that changed when she met Pansy. As Pansy certainly wouldn’t be wearing any low cut dresses any time soon, her breasts really were just for Parvati and herself. Parvati felt possessive of them, understanding why centuries of women’s clothing had been designed to hide their bodies from other men’s view. Even now, after they’d been together for some time, the sight of Pansy’s breasts did things to Parvati.

Now Parvati was nuzzling her cheek against those breasts, taking them in both hands and caressing them, pinching and rolling Pansy’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger before slipping the nubs into her mouth to make them harder still.

“Show them off,” Parvati said as she slid further down Pansy’s body. “Show that woman across the way how her man should treat them.”

Pansy plumped up her breasts with her hands, sometimes brushing her thumbs across her still-hard nipples. Parvati had asked her to play with them before, but she’d never seen Pansy be so brazen. So, like Pansy had a few minutes ago, she said, “Tell me.”

Pansy exhaled, slowly, perhaps trying to calm herself a bit, though of course that wasn’t Parvati’s goal. She settled between Pansy’s legs and began stroking her, soft and easy, caressing those outer folds of skin, running her fingertips across flesh that was becoming flushed and wet under her attention.

But Pansy still managed to speak. “She wishes she were me,” Pansy said. “She wishes her husband would ask her to touch herself for him, wishes he’d go down on her after she sucks him off.”

“Like this?” Parvati asked, just before putting her mouth on Pansy’s heated flesh.

“Yes!” Pansy said, more breath than voice.

Parvati couldn’t help but smile at Pansy’s reaction, but that didn’t get in the way of licking her clit with a tongue that alternated between flat and pointed, soft and firm. Her fingers were fucking Pansy now, four fingers crossed together and moving in and out. Pansy liked it a little rough, and Parvati was mixing it up, alternating scrapes of her teeth on Pansy’s clit with a firm press of the thumb that anchored her thrusting fingers.

Parvati’s other hand was on Pansy’s waist, keeping her still, and as Pansy got closer she reached a hand down to grasp Parvati’s. Her soft moans turned to gasps as she undulated. Parvati kept going, riding with Pansy until the wave crested, until the tensing muscles suddenly relaxed.

“Good?” Parvati asked.

Pansy smiled. “Come here,” she said, holding out her arms.

Parvati crawled into her embrace.

“This is nice,” Parvati said, staring up at the grey sky.

“I’m going to plant softer grass,” Pansy said. “And flowers with the right sort of scent.”

“How lovely,” Parvati said. “Our very own sex garden.”

Love garden, thank you very much,” Pansy said, affronted.

“Garden of love, then,” Parvati said.

“Our very own,” Pansy replied, pulling Parvati a little closer.