He called me 'girl'. He called me 'girl'". Elation was an understatement.I had lost all capacity for independent thought and movement. He was going to...fuck me. The gorgeous Greg McClintock was going to fuck me!He was going to thrust that gorgeous cock into my body! My body! And he called me 'darling girl'.Awash in my cloud of lust and love, he turned me round to face the kitchen bench and place his hands gently on my shoulders, forcing me to rest my head on the bench. His hand reached up under. “Even a lowly farm a****l would give me more attention and affection than my husband.”“While the goat’s fucking you, I’ll bag one of the sheep,” added Harry, sourly. He took the bottle of firewhiskey away from Fleur and gulped down two mouthfuls. “It’ll move a hell of a lot more than Ginny and it’ll bleat louder, too.”Hermione lowered her head. ‘What have I gotten into?’ she wondered. Wizarding marriage contracts were binding with no way, short of physical abuse, to divorce. Perhaps if she had. More

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