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Queens ch.3
🕑 Added 2023-05-22 21:51:46 +0000 UTC"Don't be afraid to use it," he said. "I know you, and you'll probably sit on it. Don't do it. Take these ladies out. Have some fun with the
"Don't be afraid to use it," he said. "I know you, and you'll probably sit on it. Don't do it. Take these ladies out. Have some fun with them if you must. Use it to your advantage. And if you need a car, you can take my Mercedes Sirius. God knows I don't need it."
"No offense, but that Mercedes is an old man's car," Harry Potter said, flashing his sincere teeth.
His grandfather gave him a crooked smile. "Don't overdo it, son."
True to her words, Fleur's fitness pass worked perfectly. The pool was not only open but also of standard size. Harry Potter spent the next two hours swimming 3,500 yards without anyone in sight.
After swimming, he put on shorts and a tank top and entered the gym. Fleur was nowhere to be seen, but there was another woman working on the lat pull machine, and she was stunning.
She appeared to be around twenty-five, with chestnut hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and creamy, smooth ivory skin. Her body was incredible, with narrow hips, a firm rear, and breasts that exceeded the limits of her gray sports bra. A few strands of hair floated above her cheeks, and her plump, pink lips looked soft enough to kiss for a year. She didn't even grace Harry with a passing glance, which he had become accustomed to, especially during his childhood years spent with the Dursleys.
She was engrossed in her pull-ups, and he left her alone and headed to the free weights section. He came for squats and bench presses and had just finished setting up the barbell when the woman approached.
"If you spot me, I'll spot you," she said with a heavy English accent.
She was unbelievably hot, and she was English? He examined her closely. He hadn't had any contact with anyone from England for years, except for a few close friends, and the girl seemed somewhat familiar. His cock took notice and stiffened in his shorts. A wave of heat flushed his cheeks, and he prepared to push it away, knowing he would never be able to hold a conversation with such a stunning woman. "How much can you spot?" he asked, channeling his inner grandfather.
Her lips curved into a slight smile. "Enough to spot you."
"Sure," he said. "Nice of you. I'm Harry." He extended his hand, and she shook it.
"I'm Tracey," she said, positioning herself behind him. "Shall we take turns with each set?"
"Great," he said. "Could you spot me on squats too?"
"Yes," she said, smiling.
He positioned himself on the bench and looked up, watching her ample, beautiful breasts rise from her petite frame like the Swiss Alps. Focus, Harry. He pressed moderate weights but struggled to do ten repetitions due to distraction.
He finished the set and helped Tracey rack the weights. "I haven't seen you here before," she said. "Are you visiting us?"
"I just moved in," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I'm living with a friend's brother and finishing my final year of prep school."
Her smile widened. "Are you a student?"
"I am," he replied. "I'm prepping for exams. Hopefully, next year, I'll get into healing school. He finished loading his side of the barbell.
"Well, you must be sharp then," Tracey said.
He would typically downplay his intelligence because he disliked coming across as arrogant, but he promised himself. "There are different measures of intelligence, but I did well in school. And you? I can tell from your accent that you're not from France."
Tracey laughed, and her breasts jiggled as she settled onto the bench. "No, I'm from England. I came here to pursue healing as well."
His jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? You must be smart."
She laughed heartily and shook her head. "Stop it, Harry. If you make me laugh, I'll drop the weight, and then we'll both be in trouble."
"Alright, I'll hold off on the questions until you crush this set," he said.
Tracey pushed away the smile and lifted the weight. Her face became a mask of concentration, and her arms trembled slightly under the weight. On the tenth repetition, she struggled to come halfway up and grunted with effort.
"Come on, Tracey. You've got this," Harry said, placing his hands under the bar.
With a final grunt, she descended, and he helped her put the barbell back in the cradle.
Tracey sat, panting, and smiled as she looked at him. "I've never done ten reps at that weight before."
"Good job," he said. "Maybe next time we'll intentionally meet here," he said without hesitation.
"I'd really like that," Tracey said. "When do you usually train?"
"Whenever I have free time," he replied honestly. "I don't have a set schedule, but if I'm free, I'd love for you to join me."
She nodded. "That's nice of you. What's your last name, Harry?"
"Harry Potter, the friendly neighborhood maniac. And you?"
"Davis," she said. "Like a city in France."
"Tracey Davis is a beautiful name," he said. "It's unique. I like it."
She smiled and tilted her head in gratitude. "What did you mean by calling yourself a maniac?"
Uh-oh. Don't mess this up. He wanted to brush it off, but he promised his grandfather. "I'm a fan of Muggle storybooks, especially fantasy, and their films."
Her jaw dropped. "Moi aussi," she said. "Really?" he asked, stunned. "What do you read?"
"Do you speak French?" Tracey asked excitedly.
"Très peu," he said, meaning very little. "It's a beautiful language that I've wanted to learn for a while, but school keeps me busy."
"I'll teach you," Tracey said.
"You will? That's awesome." He smiled.
"Yes," she said. "You mentioned fantasy books? What do you read?"
His face flushed, and he debated listing a few more popular books, but he opted for honesty. "I enjoy The Wheel of Time series," he said. "The first three or four are great, as are the last three, but the middle ones are a bit longer than necessary. Of course, there's also A Song of Ice and Fire. I love that series too."
Her jaw dropped. "You didn't mention Game of Thrones."
He furrowed his brow. "Well, no. But I really enjoyed that book. A Feast for Crows was incredible."
She shook her head, and her eyes brightened. "No, I mean, most people refer to the series as Game of Thrones."
"Truth be told," he said. "I haven't even watched the show. I started with the first book, and it quickly encompassed so much story that I don't know. It just overwhelmed me." His opinion wasn't a popular one.
She shook her head. "I've read the series and watched the show. You have to keep watching. Do you like Brandon Sanderson?"
"Sure," he said. "I love Mistborn, and The Way of Kings is pretty good too."
Tracey glanced at her watch. "I'm heading to the sauna before class. Care to join me?" My heart raced, and Harry felt like he was floating on a cloud. "Sure," he said. "I was planning on going to the sauna anyway." That statement was completely true.
She smiled and clapped her hands. "We'll meet inside."
As he entered the sauna, he had a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. His grandfather told him to be authentic, and when he went to the sauna, he wore as little as possible. Damn it, he lived by that philosophy.
The sauna was empty but scorching hot, and weak yellow light cast a smoky haze over the small space.
Tracey climbed up to the top bench, leaned against the cedar plank, and relaxed in the heat that seared his arm muscles.
The sauna door swung open, and Tracey walked in, clad in a white towel snugly wrapped around her firm breasts, while stray strands of her chestnut hair broke free from the ponytail holder and floated on her shoulders and back.
She was simply stunning, and his cock thickened beneath the towel. "Bonjour," he said, smiling at her.
"Bonjour," she said, her voice sounding like a song. "Shall we start our lesson now?" he said.
Tracey's cheeks flushed. "Indeed, I enjoy French. Since leaving Hogwarts after my second year, I've been studying here, and it's a beautiful language." She climbed onto the bench next to him and glanced at his bare chest. "You're lucky you don't have to wear that towel around your chest."
He shrugged. "If you don't want to wear it, then don't. It doesn't bother me." He couldn't believe he uttered those words until they came out of his mouth. The Harry from a few hours ago would never have said that, let alone find himself in a sauna with a beautiful girl.
She studied his face, as if trying to determine how much she could trust him. "Are you a pervert?"
He laughed out loud. "Of course, I am." Tracey smiled and untied her towel, freeing her perfect breasts before wrapping the towel around her waist.
They were large and firm, with small pink areolas and taut little nipples. Her breasts bounced and jiggled as she shifted positions, and he tried his best to downplay his reaction.
She leaned back against the cedar wall next to him and sighed. "Much better."
Sweat glistened on her flat stomach, trickling down her breasts in rivulets. His cock stiffened and pressed against the front of the towel, and Tracey's gaze trailed down to his abdomen.
"Sorry," he said. "It has a mind of its own, and let's face it. You're a beautiful girl." His cock twitched against the towel, begging for release.
"It's okay. I know how men look at me," she said. "I'm inexperienced," he mumbled, thinking of the first genuine thing he could say.
She raised an eyebrow. "Inexperienced?"
"In the sense that I'm a virgin." His cheeks reddened with heat. "In my spare time, I read fantasy novels. I was an outcast in school, maybe you even remember, that kid always wearing oversized clothes, the poor-looking cousin, until my godfather found me and my grandfather took me in."
My heart raced as Tracey laughed and approached closer, her smile sweet and inviting. "Well, since you're in such a bold mood, maybe you should show me yours, so I'm not here all alone."
Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, grateful for his meticulous grooming routine. He had never exposed himself to a woman before, let alone a complete stranger, but somehow the situation made it easier. His cock eagerly twitched, pressing against the towel, as Tracey approached closer.
She leaned in, her ample breasts bouncing playfully. Tracey looked at him, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "No one ever...?" She trailed off, her curiosity evident. Harry shook his head. "You're the first person to experience this fresh sprout," he replied.
Tracey giggled and moved even closer, pressing her round breast against his arm.
His cock twitched, instantly hardening as the towel was pushed aside. If he had known that sharing his deepest secrets would lead to an intimate encounter with the stunning French girl, he would have taken that step years ago.
"Wow," Tracey gasped, her eyes widening as she stared at him with curiosity. "Can I touch it?"
"Oui," he replied, his gaze focused on her incredible breasts.
Tracey removed the towel, freeing his cock. Thick, rigid, and glistening with sweat, his manhood stood proudly, a testament to masculine evolution. He had seen other men at the gym, but he knew that what hung between his legs was exceptional even among the well-endowed.
His cock swayed like a controlled cobra, its shaft traversed by prominent veins like rivers on a map. He flexed the muscles of his cock, causing it to throb and tremble, as if singing Tracey's name, beckoning her closer.
With hesitation, Tracey tentatively extended her hand, staring at him intently. She ran her finger along his shaft and gently touched its pulsating head.
He took a sharp breath, gripping the edge of the bench as waves of pleasure washed over him. It was the first time someone's hand had touched his cock, and the sensation was incredible. "It doesn't hurt, but it's incredibly sensitive," he admitted. His cock and balls were like an unstable reservoir of untapped desire, years of suppressed pressure ready to explode.
"Such tension," Tracey remarked, her facial expression softening. "Would you like me to help you?"
He eagerly nodded. "Oh yes, please."
