Emma pulls up the lyrics…

It takes a moment, but finally you’re lying on your back, cock deep inside Emma’s tight, velvety vagina, while she holds her phone in one hand and rocks her hips experimentally.

‘Jesus, this is ridiculous,’ she mumbles. Then, before you can say anything – ‘I know, I know, no judgement. God knows I have weirder fantasies than this.’

You squint up at her, intrigued. ‘Really? Like what?’

Emma lifts her hips suddenly, and slams back down hard enough to make you swear into the pillow. ‘Later. Maybe I’ll tell you after we do this. If you’re very nice to me.’

Then she does it again, and moments later, you’re not thinking about anything but Emma Watson’s steaming wet cunt, as she rides your cock triumphantly, working her hips and squeezing you harder with every bounce.

Her tits shake prettily as she fucks you, and Emma glances down self-consciously. ‘Sorry,’ she manages, between gyrations, ‘not sure how my tits will affect my singing voice! I usually have them strapped into a bra… and I’m usually not bouncing on a boy, so they don’t collide with my diaphragm…’

You’re past words, and perhaps Emma can tell. She rides your cock a few more times, reaching down to rub her clit cheekily, then suddenly –

‘Do you ever feel…’ Her voice rings out, pretty and clear. ‘Like a plastic bag…’

You can’t help yourself, snorting with laughter. Emma joins in, still riding you.

‘These lyrics are fucking ridiculous,’ she gasps. ‘Oh, don’t tell me – I know that was the point. Shut up and let me finish.’ She punctuates it with a sharp squeeze of her cunt around your cock, and you hitch in a sudden breath, almost **** on your laughter. Emma looks quite pleased with herself.

‘You just gotta ignite the light,’ she begins again. ‘And let it shine…’ Against all odds, you’re getting into a rhythm; Emma’s hips buck in time with the song. ‘Just own the night,’ she sings, confidence growing, ‘like the Fourth of July!’

You literally can’t believe you’ve got her to do this.

Emma Watson is singing out loud while she rides your cock.

And it’s not even your birthday.

‘Cause baby, you’re a firework!’ Emma breaks off into giggles, even as she fucks you harder, cunt slapping wetly against your crotch. ‘Come on, let your colours burst!’

Something’s about to burst all right – and maybe Emma can tell, because she leans down suddenly. Her breath is warm on your lips, and you stare into her shining brown eyes, cock unstoppable now in its drive to cum deep inside her.

‘Satisfied?’ Emma whispers, with a squeeze that makes your cock spasm. ‘You like making me perform in the nude, do you? You like it when I strip off and sing just for you?’ Your cock jerks again, and Emma smiles devilishly. ‘That’s right,’ she breathes, ‘cum inside me, go on. Fill me up… give me my birthday present.’

You let out a wordless groan; cum is surging up your cock like a tidal wave. ‘Fuck me, go on,’ Emma gasps, ‘fuck me while I sing for you. Pump that delicious cum inside me, fuck me till I can’t see straight. I’ll be your dirty singing slut, please, I’m begging you!’

And you can’t hold it back any longer.

Cum spurts straight up inside her, inside Emma Watson’s perfectly shaven cunt, inside her immaculately smooth lips, rocketing up and splashing the walls of her vagina with your seed. ‘Fuck,’ Emma gasps, and you can tell she’s close, too; her thumb works frantically over her clit, and then with a shudder and a squeeze she’s into her own orgasm, back arching, mouth open and eyes wide. ‘Fuck me harder, oh my God!’

You growl, cum still erupting inside her – and grab her tits, pulling her down harder onto your cock. Emma’s cunt squeezes uncontrollably around you as you grope her – and you let yourself go, squeezing her harder than ever, pinching her nipples like a man possessed, feeling her soft boobs swell in your palms.

Emma’s a few seconds behind you in finishing, and you notice that every time you grope her harder, her cunt spasms – so you do it again, squeezing her tits hard enough to leave red fingermarks on her chest. Emma gasps, shuddering and crying out, and crashes through one final orgasm before collapsing onto your chest, spent.

Cum trickles out of her vagina and onto your leg, and you laugh tiredly, running a hand through Emma’s sheet of smooth brown hair, fanned out across her bare back. ‘Good?’ you ask, the single word an effort.

Emma nods ardently against your chest, apparently too exhausted to speak. ‘Who’d have thought,’ she manages a few moments later, voice cracking just slightly, ‘that fuck-singing could be so much fun?’

You laugh, fisting your hand in her hair and letting the strands escape again. ‘Told you. You were fucking awesome, by the way.’

Emma makes a sound like a contented cat. ‘Thank you! I was… okay, I suppose.’ She kisses a line along your chest. ‘I really should have warmed up first. And I promise I’ll learn the words next time.’

You chuckle, stroking the hair out of her eyes. Sweaty, tired and leaking cum, Emma Watson is still the most beautiful thing on the face of the earth. ‘I thought you were perfect.’

‘Not perfect,’ Emma objects through a yawn. ‘Okay-ish. But thanks.’

‘It’s your turn to pick the next fantasy,’ you remind her with a grin. ‘Gotta say, I’m looking forward to it.’

Emma just kisses your chest again. ‘Aren’t you just. I’ll have to see what I can come up with…’

‘Bonnie’s on the guestlist for tomorrow, right?’ That earns you a light smack on the arm. ‘Just kidding. Although she is hot – and we never did work out whether she was shaved or not…’

Emma giggles reluctantly into your chest. ‘Oh, God. Promise me you won’t try to ask her tomorrow.’

‘I can’t promise it won’t come up in casual conversation.’ Emma gives you a look. ‘Fine, fine, I’ll wait for you to raise the subject.’

More cum runs down your leg, and Emma stirs, looking guilty. ‘Sorry! Can you feel that?’

You don’t stir an inch, holding her close. ‘Yeah. But it’s my cum, sweetheart. I don’t mind.’

You lie there for a while, in the semi-darkness, listening to Emma’s breathing as she gradually drifts off to sleep; and you’re not sure whether she can hear you or not, but you whisper something into her ear just before sleep overtakes you as well.

‘Happy birthday, sweetheart…’