Female Harry Potter Fan Art Mga Nobela at Kwento

Natalie No, back then and right now, I'm still thinking about Jaxon. How amazing he's been with Harry, how patient and kind, and how I'm getting dangerously used to having around. "Mommy!" Harry's voice cuts through my spiral of panic as he bounces out of the house, clutching a piece of drawing paper covered in crayon scribbles. "Look what I drew!" I glance down at his artwork. They are stick figures that are clearly meant to be me, Freda, himself, and...a much taller figure with dark hair.

I shriek under my breath to avoid her from hearing, but she did. She turned her eagle like eyes at me and bore transfixed in my face. “You are a Harrish!” She shrieked happily and I stared totally confunded. “A what?” “A Harrish?” she hesitated, a baffled look ever present on her face. “A sucker for Harry Potter!!” I instantly burst into a fit of llaughter.I rolled uncontrollably in my chair, clutching my stomach in a desperate attempt to minimize the pain. My lungs constricted making it difficult to breath.

Harper's eyes lit up, "I love strawberries too." "And she doesn't look like a werewolf." One of the boys spoke stepping forward, "He said they are big with scary faces and always have blood dripping from their mouths." "And they have bad breath too." Harper's twin-spoke, "I am Hayden." She pointed at herself. "She's not a werewolf, she's pretty." Nolan said, "Maybe, she's a fairy." He added and they all agreed

I put my hand to my mouth to stifle a cry My dream man appears in each of the miniatures, with dozens of women; each one different from the other. There are brunettes, blondes, redheads, Latinas, Asians, chestnuts, slim, others not so much; And you don't have to click on each of those videos to know that they all have something in common: they fuck wildly and passionately with the man I know as Daniel Ansdell. “I'm sorry Harper, I really didn't want you to...” I hear Henry's voice from behind me. There is a lot of heartbreak in him.

What kept me stable. Natalie's party was going to be a blast. The teen was a Potterhead like I've never seen before. She'd showed me pictures of her room on her phone. Everything was done in Hufflepuff's black and yellow. She even had a stuffed toy badger she'd named Puffles.

“Finn’s mother is not a fan of mountains and rivers. She’s more interested in portraits.” Then she suddenly laughed. “I had my eyes on a beautiful painting, but unfortunately, the art gallery refused to sell it to me.” “Really? Let’s go and have a look.” “All right.” Hazel nodded and led me to another hall. Hazel took a fancy to a painting of a young girl. The girl was dressed in a white robe—it was colored with golden paint, which represented the light of a totem. Obviously, she was a witch. The painting had bright colors, the brush strokes elegant. The woman in the painting was wearing an old-fashioned white dress and had dark-colored hair. The overall painting brought positive energy.

Staying away from her is proving difficult, however. Extremely hard. I spent the night scrolling through her I*******m account, which did not help matters at all. I came away more aroused than ever. Her pictures are tasteful. Artistic. Shots of the parties she has planned. Up close angles of paper roses, cast in the light of a lantern. The decimated carcass of a pinata. A vintage photo booth with a group of women laughing inside. There are only a few pictures of Harriet, herself. And they are sexy in way that tightens my balls, drags them up into my stomach. She is dressed professionally in all of them, but there is always a hint of something. A swath of exposed midriff. A high slit in her s

The push-up bra beneath her shirt straining to hold in the mouth-watering funbags. Harry, meanwhile, did his best to refrain from leaping out of his chair and taking hold of the two feminine spheres and sucking forcefully on the hard nipples, squeezing at the supple flesh. That would have to remain a fantasy... for now.

She shut her eyes at his insult as his hands roamed all over her body. Harry smirked satisfied when he watched her hands curling into fists at his insult. If he says she has a woman figure it will be a lie. She was small. Too small, light and skinny to be called a woman. She had grown up. Her facial features had turned mature ones but her body is still like a little girl. Her breasts weren’t big enough yet she wasn’t flat as well. Her waist was too tiny while her ass wasn’t too much thick. She may not have a sexy figure but Harry still found her looking extremely beautiful beneath him.