Harry had the suspicion that Ginny was hiding something. He always thought that the photos and rumors floating around of her cheating on him to be of people under polyjuice, but Ginny's behavior was becoming increasingly cold toward him.
It had been years since the last time they had been intimate and months since the last time they kissed even chastely. For a while now Harry had reduced himself to masturbating over some of the pictures of her wife-lookalike being roughly fucked by strangers with enormous dicks.
The Ginny in the pictures was nothing like his wife. Ginny was kind and innocent, if sometimes passionate. The woman in those pictures was lewd and obscene, smiling at the camera with semen dribbling down her face and body and with a cock pistoning her pussy.
Harry didn't admit it, even to himself, but he was glad for those pictures. Even though they didn't portray the real Ginny he was able to see Ginny's face going through expression he never saw on her face for real.
The face of a slut caught in orgasmic bliss.
Harry wasn't a fool. He knew he didn't have much in that department. Years in the male dorm at Hogwarts taught him that much. Everyone had a bigger dick than Harry, save maybe for Ron. Even Neville packed more meat than they did. The scion of Longbottom actually had a thicker dick than anyone else, though nobody figured out until fifth year, when he grew out of his fear of being bullied to take a shower with everyone else. No one in the Gryffindor dorm ever made fun of Neville after that.
But Harry had a small dick and he knew it, however he didn't give much thought about it during those years. With Voldermort after his life, sexual inadequacies were the least of everyone's thought. They married right after the war when romance was blooming. Love made a person overlook a great deal of things.
But now things had changed. They both were home rarely and even more rarely at the same time. Worse, in many of those occurrences there were others around, from their children, the other Weasleys to a number of other friends and acquaintances. There had been little private time between them and when there was she was either tired or she had an important business the next day and she needed rest
So Harry ended up jerking off to pictures of his wife being spread apart in a way he had never been able to. He watched Ginny bounce on a cock ten times Harry's while simultaneously sucking on another.
He came and he came and he came. He got so used to them that he began looking forward to his private time with that familiar yet unknown woman and he had to conceal his excitement when new pictures came around. They never got to those who made them and the case went nearly forgotten. Harry was content that the pictures never made it to the papers.
As if to mock his attempts they started sending them right to his office. Entire folders of Ginny being fucked by strangers. He never told anyone about those. He sometimes locked himself into his bathroom at the office and jerked the day away.
Day after day the Ginny in those pictures replaced his wife. The wanton, degenerate slut that looked like his wife shared more intimacy with him that his actual wife ever did.
Still, Harry never suspected Ginny to actually cheat on him. It was absurd, but even absurd things start to become likely if you think about them often enough.
So impossible became improbable. Improbable became unlikely. Unlikely became what if.
What if his wife actually screwed strangers behind his back? What if his wife was actually the cheating whore he had been jerking off to for years?
He couldn't live with that thought… just as he couldn't live without it.
Slowly the fear of finding out lost to the need to.
And so one morning he said he was leaving for work when instead he hid under his cloak and waited. If Ginny went anywhere he would follow.
His wife took care of the house chores, saw their children out as they left either for the Burrow or some of their friends' place leaving only Ginny and an invisible Harry left in the house.
Maybe he was over thinking. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. But then the fireplace roared to life and a figure emerged from it.
Harry held his breath and watched. Anyone who came through the fireplace had to be keyed into the wards, something that could be done only by Ginny or Harry himself.
Harry gave a relieved sigh. It was Teddy Lupin, his godson.
"Aunt Ginny? Are you home?"
"Over here Teddy," she called from the kitchen.
Teddy went there and Harry followed, still under his cloak. He couldn't show himself now and there was still the chance that Ginny would leave after Teddy had left too.
In the kitchen, Harry's wife was putting away a few things.
"You are a bit early," she noted.
"Yes, well, I didn't have much else to do."
"Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe a few cookies?"
"No," he said closing the distance. "I'd rather have some other kind of sweet."
Harry inhaled sharply as he saw Teddy brush his hand against Ginny's butt. The redhead turned and against Harry's expectation of a slap she instead pushed her lips against Teddy's, wiggling her butt into his palm.
"Naughty boy," she purred, "what are you doing so early in the morning? I oughta punish you."
"You probably should, but we all know you'd rather be the one being punished."
"And are you going to punish me for being such a bad girl?" she asked expectantly.
"Are you going to be bad enough to make it worth my while?"
"Let's find out."
She turned fully into his arms and molded her body to his chest. Their lips met again, this time with more passion. Their tongue intertwined in a sloppy dance of spit, while Teddy's hands toyed with Ginny's ass like he owned it.
In the meantime, Harry was absolutely petrified. Not even a full body bind could have frozen him in place like that. He could barely breath as he watched, transfixed, while his wife French kissed his godson like she wanted to strangle him with her tongue.
"Bad enough for you?" she asked, detaching from his lips.
"Not quite, but you're getting there."
"What about this then?" she asked falling to her knees in front of him. She grabbed the zip of his pants with her teeth and pulled it down, freeing the beast awaiting inside.
Harry, who was just about to regain his wits, froze again at the sight of Teddy's member which was at least five times his own.
Ginny too was impressed, albeit in a much more pleasant way. She nuzzled it with her face like an adoring puppy, gave it a couple of firm strokes and then brought her salivating tongue to it.
Lap after lap Teddy's dick became slick with saliva and once it was properly coated the redhead took it between her lips. With measured slowness, without breaking eye contact with the man, Ginny drove the meat rod into her mouth entirely.
"I'll never get tired to see you doing that, auntie."
Ginny pulled back and freed it from her mouth.
"And I'll never get tired to do it, dear. By the way, is this bad enough?"
As response, Teddy grabbed her head and forced his member back inside her. Despite the sudden and violent movement, Ginny didn't resist nor had any trouble getting her mouth impaled. Her hands laid quietly in her lap, while she enjoyed with eyes closed the feeling of Teddy fucking her face. Despite her mouth being open to what Harry assumed to be its maximum, Ginny was the picture of contentness
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