“Don’t get uppity, you fucking bitch, not unless you want it up the arse.” “You fucking pervert!” Cock head sliding across rain-soaked skin....Cars swish by. Rain pounding on roof of car. Loud, deafening. “Maybe I am. Whatever.” Cock head sliding across skin, foreskin pulled back. I don’t have to wank, I can feel the sperm coming to a boil, readying itself to push up and out. “It doesn’t matter. You’re just a fucking slag who’s going to get cum all over her face whether she wants it or not.” Rain. They then went for their customary walk in the grounds—perhaps their last chance for some private time to themselves. Everything seemed the same as it had been during the last occasion that they were there: except, of course, that they were all a little older and more contented. Their first stop was once again the marble tomb of Albus Dumbledore. It had become their tradition to first pay their respects to their former headmaster. It still shone in the Autumn sunshine; although the marble had. More

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