Goodbye, Miss Granger Ch. 11

And ready? Goodness, I felt like a whistling kettle, I was so ready! I placed the hand I was holding on my breast, showing him how hard my nipples were. For a moment he just cupped me lightly, moulding to my shape with his warm fingers as he basked in the sexy surprise of finding me naked, but then lifted the small weight of my breast as if testing it for firmness while he brushed a thumb tantalisingly across my areola.

"Mmmmm," I sighed. "It's quite nice in here," I teased the crowd of boys outside who hadn't hit me with a sponge for a while. "I think I might stay a while." Of course the message was laced with a second meaning for Kevin; it meant "go for it, I'm ready".

He cupped my other breast and I could sense him standing close behind, not quite touching me with his body. Unable to talk to him directly, I placed my hands over his and slowly rolled my torso in what I hoped was an erotic fashion to let him know how he was making me feel. Running my fingers down his forearms, I broke contact and tried reaching behind to stroke him through his trousers, but he took a step back to dodge me and then – holding my wrists – he gently directed my hands to the wall in front. The implication was obvious: you're trapped, you're my sex toy, brace yourself and leave the fucking to me.

Well if you say so! I was almost shaking, I was so excited. I kept my hands flat to the wall while his hands returned to my breasts, stroking and lifting them and gently pinching my nipples between his fingertips. Slowly and sensuously he ran both hands down my sides, lingering to enjoy the soft curves around my waist, and then continuing all the way down to my thighs before returning to my hips. Stepping close enough for the front of his trousers to brush my bottom, he gently pulled on my hips, massaging the hard bulge of his cock in the cleft of my ass. With my legs already shoulder-width apart, I arched back to offer my pussy at a better angle.

Leaving one hand on my hip, he reached down with the other to cup the mound of my sex, his middle finger laying along the length of my open slit with his fingertip poised tantalisingly over my entrance. I couldn't decide whether to push forwards into his fingers or backwards into his cock, and I indecisively settled for slowly pumping my hips between the two.

I was so ready! Why didn't he have his cock in me already?

The crowd outside had swelled in numbers even though I was barely acknowledging them, and now there were several teachers and a few senior girls to balance the majority of boys who were still paying for the privilege of throwing sponges at the pretty maths teacher with the horrid wedding dress.

One of Kevin's hands abandoned my breast to fumble with his trousers. I desperately wanted to help him and to wrap my hand around his throbbing manhood, but in the absence of restraints I obediently played my part and kept my hands glued to the front wall of the booth. Finally I heard his trousers fall to the floor and he stopped stroking my wanton slit to pull down his trunks, but the brief loss was worth it because a moment later I felt his hot and throbbing cock press back into the cleft of my butt cheeks. He felt so thick and long and ready; it took all of my self-control not to reach back and jam him into my steaming entrance.

Adjusting his feet to a wider stance, he brought his cock down to a level where he could take me from behind, but instead of pushing straight into me, he just rested the tip between my pussy lips and teased me, stroking his cock-head back and forth through the slick valley of my slit. Brushing my clitoris with each forward stroke and then poising over my entrance on the back-stroke, he teased me to the point of agitation where the only words I wanted to say were 'Take me!', but which I couldn't utter with the eyes of what felt like half the school watching me.

"I'm getting bored, you guys," I said, ostensibly to the crowd. "Surely one of you has what it takes to drill one right down the middle!" That was as risqué as I dared attempt, I wanted to tell Kevin that play-time's over; the teasing was fun, but now it was time for the fucking to begin.

On the next back stroke through my pussy lips, he stopped and repositioned his cock with his hand, and with a rush of anticipation I felt his cock-head engage with my entrance. It was that magical moment where he was both committed and yet not quite inside me. It's the most wonderful, exhilarating feeling of anticipation, just the slightest penetration, enough for me to realise that he could take me with the slightest movement of his hips, and yet choosing not to – choosing instead to prolong that moment of simultaneous bliss before he filled me with his powerful, throbbing cock and I would envelop him in the silky embrace of my sheath.

I dared not breathe, trying to predict the moment when he would enter me. Now! No, now! No, wait ….

"Hey look, it's Miss Granger's fiancé!"

What the fuck? Blind. Heart stopping. Panic. How could anyone know Kevin was in here?

Like a scene from a movie – a frightening, perverse, and darkly comic movie – the crowd parted and there he was, an impossible reality that my brain couldn't begin to process, it was Kevin stepping through the gap, smiling shyly with every face turned towards him.

Thinking back, I don't believe I understood the truth of what I was seeing until the thick manhood between my pussy lips breached my entrance and slowly pushed inside the hot, silken cavern of my sex. Ironically, if Kevin had appeared a few moments later it would have made no difference at all, because there could be no mistaking the fact that the cock that was now sliding inexorably into my womanhood was most certainly not his.

We don't use toys, and before Kevin I owned only a small collection of modestly sized vibrators. Certainly I had no experience with anything remotely like the monster gently forcing its way into my pussy. Oh my goodness, it felt like five cocks! I couldn't breathe! No, that's not quite right; I couldn't breathe out! I opened my mouth but all I could do was take these fluttery, gasping inward breaths until I thought my lungs would burst. Sensations in the rest of my body were shutting down, I couldn't feel the plywood wall with my fingers or the floor with my toes; my whole world had been reduced to the throbbing slab of meat that filled my rippling, straining sex.

Kevin looked right and left for flying sponges and then stole towards the booth.

"Lovely dress," he smiled. "Aren't you worried about ruining it before the big day?"

"Um …," I couldn't even process the joke. "What? It's not … it's not mine. How did you …? Who…?"

Kevin cupped my head in both hands and leaned in for a long, sensuous kiss. The crowd went wild and I heard a sponge splat into the wall beside him. My knees began to buckle and fold towards each other, but I was so full of cock I couldn't even close my legs. With a force of will, I straightened them again, but that relentless tool just used the relieved pressure to go deeper, touching down on my cervix with still no sign of the owner's groin touching my ass.

With a suddenness that made me gasp into Kevin's lips, my pussy began to come. I don't mean that I began to come, it was just my pussy. It wasn't anything like orgasms I had experienced before; it wasn't a whole-of-body experience or even something that filled and spread outwards from my core. It was just a sudden peak of sensation in my pussy and nowhere else. In some ways it was like taking a pee after holding on for too long, just a long, slow, sweet release, making every nerve ending inside my sheath sing a high-C until it felt like I would shatter.

I locked desperately onto Kevin's lips while I came. And I came. And I came! Kevin felt some of my desperation and passion and kissed me back with renewed vigour – probably enjoying showing off in front of the kids – and that just made my predicament worse.

Finally I came down from my climax and regained some control over both my pussy and my breathing. With my sex still straining and stretched around that massive tool, I bore down on it with my secret muscles and nearly came again; the sheer size of it was holding me perpetually on the edge.

With a perverse delight that really should have been panicked horror, I understood exactly who was fucking me. I mean, who else could it be? Maybe Josh had overheard me on the phone this morning. Maybe he just wanted to finish what we started on The Enterprise. However it happened, I realised that this was my Celebrity Bang. My own words from that night we got engaged rang in my ears:

"And if I'm being banged by a Hermione-fancier in the dark – in my red dress – and I only work out half way through that it's not you, then I'm free to continue."

Well I wasn't exactly in the dark, but I was unsighted. And I wasn't in my red dress anymore. But Josh was most definitely a Hermione-fancier and I did only work out it wasn't Kevin half way through.

Oh my God! Do I have a free pass to do this?

I guess the answer to that question was the same as 'Was Kevin serious when we made the Celebrity Bang pact?' I thought back to that night; was I serious about his Celebrity Bang? Would I let him sleep with Emma Watson? I think I'd be okay with it so long as he didn't leave me for her (and he shared the juicy details afterwards). And what about later that night when he tricked me into thinking there was a stranger in the room? He was totally into my fantasy, knowing that I thought I was being fucked by a stranger. But would he be totally into it for real?

Let's face it Jeannie, if he isn't then it's a bit late to rewind.

"Mmm. Nice," Kevin said, pulling away from our kiss. "But soggy." He wiped off some sponge-water from his lips that had transferred from me.

"Mmm-hmmm," I agreed, not quite trusting myself to talk. Josh's cock was still inside me, but he wasn't moving it; he just held me, impaled and helpless on that throbbing monster while he stroked my naked breasts.

"Hey! Don't they look cute?" a voice yelled. Maybe Mandy. "Let's do the wedding now."

"Yeah, go for it," Kevin turned to face them, standing beside the suspended wedding dress, but at an angle where I could see him. "Where will you find a priest, though?" He challenged good-naturedly.

"Or a Justice Of The Peace!" somebody shouted.

"Or a ship's captain!" everyone was chipping in advice now.

"That's only on the high sea!"

"Well … if a captain can perform a wedding on the high sea," someone began with the irrefutable logic of a tipsy teenager. "Then when you're in a high-school …?"

"PRINCIPAL SMITH!" about fifteen voices screamed in delighted unison.

Oh dear God, no. Josh's impossibly thick cock swelled menacingly inside me, making me whimper and reminding me how close he held me to the edge of a climax.

Mr Smith was produced from within a seething crowd of excited teenagers who were all simultaneously trying to tell him what they wanted him to do.

"A mock wedding?" he exclaimed with jovial addle-mindedness, sounding more like Professor Dumbledore that ever.

"YES!" they all yelled.

"Miss Granger?" he asked. I wanted to say no, but then I didn't really see how this could get any worse. And it might help mask some of my reactions to what was happening inside the booth.

I nodded my agreement and Kevin leaned in and kissed me again.

"I don't even know how to start," Mr Smith muttered.

"Dearly beloved!" Mandy cried euphorically, almost hopping up and down with excitement. She was definitely mixing something with her wine spritzer.

"Dearly beloved," Mr Smith began. "We are gathered here today in the sight of …," he briefly considered and then rejected what he probably thought – under the circumstances – would be blasphemy. "… in the sight of a hundred rambunctious teenagers," an excited cheer from the crowd, "to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

"Get to the good bits!"

"Yeah, go straight to the I do's"

Kevin turned and stole a glance at my disembodied and possibly horrified-looking face. Josh chose that moment to slowly pull his cock back through my straining lips. The wet, delicious friction of my sex tracing the contours and veins of his cock set my nerve-endings buzzing with ecstasy again, and this time I couldn't help but squeeze him tight, doubling the pressure, doubling the pleasure.

He cupped a breast in one hand and held my hip with the other, and with the gentlest of strokes he began to slowly but forcefully fuck me, filling me to bursting and stretching me inside so I could take even more of that big, beautiful cock, and then withdrawing, leaving me empty and bereft and silently begging for more.

"Do you, Jeannie Granger …" Mr Smith continued.

"Hermione," I said, almost gasping. "If we're going to do it like this then then today I'm Hermione." That was a reward for Josh; as flattering as his attention felt, it was more of a Hermione-fetish than it was a teacher-fetish.

"Really?" Kevin asked. He knew about my mixed experiences as Hermione's doppelganger and probably thought the wedding ceremony in front of all these kids would be too eerily reminiscent of the teasing I endured as a teenager.

"Uh huh," I smiled happily. It wasn't a difficult emotion to express at that moment, standing splay-legged with Josh's impossible cock slowly pumping me towards an explosive orgasm.

And anyway, I was sure. Hermione had taken me on all kinds of magical adventures in my imagination. Sure, she'd been a part of the most painful episode of my life, but she'd made up for that by finding my true love, who was now standing right beside me. Perhaps surprisingly, she'd never got me laid – surprising because of all the men I could have chosen at that university HAGS party, almost every one of them would want me because I was Hermione. Except Kevin.

This was the end though, the end for me and Hermione. It wasn't a real wedding – and I couldn't legally use Kevin's surname yet – but after this I wasn't Miss Granger anymore. It was time to move on. What was that Bible passage they often used at weddings?

"When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things."

That's how I felt. And it wasn't just my Harry Potter fantasy I was ready to put away. With an eerie prescience I realised that this was also the end of my sex-with-a-stranger fantasy. It's not that I didn't like it, or didn't want it; I just knew that after its fulfilment I wouldn't need it. Oh, we'd still play games, I didn't doubt that for a moment. What I needed was Kevin. I'd only ever had one man, but it took another to show me that one was enough.

"Do you, Hermione Granger, take this man …," Mr Smith paused, but Kevin helped him out.

"Kevin Marsh," he turned again to check in with me, his eyes asking whether he should have said 'Ron Weasley' or 'Harry Potter'. I just smiled at him reassuringly while I timed my breathing to Josh's delectably slow fucking down below.

"… take this man, Kevin Marsh, to be your unlawfully wedded husband?" There were a few giggles from the crowd at Mr Smith's freestyling. "To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, until death do you part?"

Forsaking all others? Goodness, hurry up Josh; I don't want to lie.

"Sure," I answered. "I can live with that." That got another giggle from the crowd.

"And do you, Kevin Marsh, take this woman, Jean- … ah, Hermione Granger, as your lawfully designated Sponge Toss target?" Outright laughter this time, including Kevin. "To lock in a plywood box, to pelt with wet sponges, for the enjoyment of others and for the profit of the school, for as long as you both shall put up with it?"

"I do," answered Kevin.

All of the sponges had been returned and were handed out to everyone in the front row of the crowd, so it didn't take a genius to work out what was going to happen next. Well, what was going to happen on the outside of the booth at least, because what was happening on the inside – especially what was happening inside the steaming, tight confines of my pussy – was something I'd prefer to keep private.

Josh had abandoned my breast and now held both of my hips for better leverage. As wet as I was, he still needed to move slowly to combat the tightness of my entrance, which sucked at his cock with each withdrawal, distending and gripping his thick shaft and making me feel like I was being pulled inside out. But, oh, the inward strokes, how to describe them? With his strong hands gripping my hips, he pulled me onto his swollen manhood, slowly but forcefully driving his cock-head through the resistance of my love tunnel, which would close with virginal relief as he withdrew, only to be plundered again and again as though each stroke was the first. He finished each thrust holding me tight, pushing the soft bulk of his knob against my cervix with relentless pressure until it felt as though I couldn't draw breath.

Josh flexed his cock inside me and I could feel his knob swell massively, opening me up more than I ever thought possible. I couldn't help it – it was a reflex action by my poor, stretched pussy – but against my will it contracted in a reptilian embrace, constricting and squeezing back, rippling up and down the full length of his throbbing member.

The reaction was like one of those action movies when the dam wall is breached or the nuclear reactor is compromised, and the hero has seconds to escape before the whole thing blows. Metaphorical klaxon alarms went off in my head, red lights flashed and needle gauges swung ominously into the danger zone. The orgasm that had been building was now tripped and I could do nothing but let it run its course. With a low moan, Josh pulled half way out against my relentless pressure and then, with his fingers spasmodically gripping my hips, he drove his massive cock all the way to the hilt, his balls pressed into my lips so hard I could feel them lift and swell as he prepared to come.

"You have declared your consent before the assembled Muck-Up Day rabble," Mr Smith hit his stride delivering his final line with obvious enjoyment. "What a fake wizard in a Santa beard has joined, let not man put asunder. Mr Marsh, you may kiss the bride."

Everything was happening at once. A dozen kids wielding sponges cocked their arms and prepared to throw; Kevin turned to face me again, smiling and excited and knowing we were about to be pelted; and then with a final massive throb, Josh filled me with hot, molten cum, bursting the dam on my own climax. I screamed as the first sponge hit my face, but then Kevin was kissing me and blocking my cries of release while wet sponges smacked into the back of his head. Skybursts of ecstasy exploded through my body. My knees collapsed, quivering and shaking, helplessly trying to close around the massive bar of man-flesh that forced them apart.

My head was spinning with emotions, my love for Kevin, the fulfilment of my fantasy, and the visceral, awesome release of my orgasm that was still shuddering through my body, twisting my limbs and making me jerk like a puppet. I kissed Kevin fiercely. Perhaps I should have felt guilty about what was happening, but I didn't. I didn't ask for it, I didn't invite it; heck, I thought it was Kevin himself until he appeared in front of me. All I knew for sure was that this was everything I had dreamed of in my stranger fantasies, everything I had already shared with Kevin, and in a very real way he was the part of this fantasy that made it so special.