NOTICE: This story is Copyright 2000 by Creampie Eater <CreampieStories@yahoo.com>. It is intended for personal and private non-profit use. It is illegal and immoral to display this text in any other form, including but not limited to posting on another web site, posting on Usenet, distributing via email (including email lists), and printing for publishing. Personal printing for personal use is allowed.
From time to time, this story may be modified and edited. Any modified or derived works remain copyrighted by Creampie Eater, whether or not this NOTICE remains.
This is a story about sex between consenting adults. If you are not an adult, you cannot consent, even to read this story. Therefore, read something else. Note also that my stories may portray sexual acts that are not necessarily safe. Since you are an adult reading this, you know it. Even so, caveat lector.
Also, please not that this story does not contain any references to sexual contact with a child, which is wholly abhorrent. Instead, it focuses on the very adult relationships the very adult Harold Potter has with other adults.
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Finally, this is my longest and most virulent introduction ever. I hope it is sobering, but not so much that you don't find the story fun.
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Chapter 3: The Three Broomsticks
Harold Potter, Order of Merlin First Class (twice awarded), felt a wave of nostalgia as he approached the wall protecting Platform 9 3/4. He saw there a confused couple and their excited and frightened child surreptitiously pressing the wall. He remembered the day he had learned the secret to entry to the Hogwarts Express. As a wizard living his entire life in the Muggle world ('Muggle' is the name the wizarding world gave to non-magical people), he had not known either how to enter the platform.
He smiled and strode forward to the threesome, extending his hand. "Professor Harold Potter," he said. "I expect you'll be looking for the Hogwarts Express?" All three had looked at him approach with apprehension, but now their faces were pictures of relief.
He man took his hand. "Oh yes! But we cannot understand how this all works. How do we get to the, uh, platform?"
Harry smiled his infectious grin. "I'm quite afraid that only your youngster can pass." He looked around, seeing if the coast was clear. "You are not a wizarding family I presume?" Harry heard their confused explanation that they were indeed Muggles, reliving again how he had first learned that he was more than he thought. "I'll be glad to make sure he gets safely on board the train."
"Oh, thank you!" the mother gushed. "We're the Simples, Marge and Gregory." Then she introduced her son, Simon. "You be good and listen to whatever Mr. Potter says, you hear?"
Simon shook Harry's hand bravely, his lower lip quavering. Then he wailed, "Oh Mommy!" and burst into tears. Harry thought this must surely be his first separation.
Harry's own first trip to Hogwarts was much less traumatic. He had wanted to go to Hogwarts, to escape from the overly Muggle family he had lived with his. His Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Cousin Dudley had treated him cruelly. Afraid that he'd show wizarding tendencies, they had told him his parents died in a car crash. In fact, his parents had died at the hands of a powerful Dark Wizard, Lord Voldemort, and had protected him to the last. Harry's lightening bolt scar hadn't been the result of a car wreck, but had come when he--only an infant--had withstood the powerful death curse from Lord Voldemort. The curse bounced off Harry and ruined Lord Voldemort. Orphaned, he had lived with his Aunt and Uncle, enduring a lifetime of poor treatment. He had learned of his wizarding blood only when the invitation to come to Hogwarts had arrived, and his heart had leapt at the chance to learn his real self.
Poor Simon, though, came from a loving family who wanted the best for him, even if they didn't understand. It was a brave thing they were doing, a leap of faith.
"Come now," Harry said, when Simon's tears had slowed to a wet snuffle. "Take my hand, Simon." Harry held his own valise in one hand, Simon in the other, and most of Simon's things under his arm. "He'll be fine," he said to the parent's who were snuffling as well.
Purposely, Harold Potter and Simon strode to the brick wall and... through it.
Simon looked in amazement at the busy Platform 9 3/4, somehow sandwiched between platforms 9 and 10. It was a normal looking rail platform, although no graffiti littered the walls. The Hogwarts Express train was boarding, and most of the students were bringing their possessions on board.
Harry was looking around as well, absorbing the forgotten ambiance and excitement that filled the space. After living so long in the mostly Muggle world, performing heroic deeds that the Muggles would never even suspect, Harry was glad to be returning to the place that he felt most part of: Hogwarts.
Harry got on the train, leading the confused (but now happy and excited) Simon to one of the compartments. He remembered his feeling of comfort when he rode the third year with Prof. Lupin, and knew Simon would feel the same way. He settled in, hoping to nap on the long ride and to blot out the voices of the excited children on the train.
He did nap, occasionally becoming aware of whispered fingerpointing. "Look," they'd say, "it IS Harry Potter. See the scar on his forehead?!" He could easily ignore it, since he'd had the same reaction all his wizard life. It seemed the only one NOT able to point him out in the crowd were the Muggles, who were blissfully unaware that magic existed and that he was perhaps the greatest wizard alive.
He was also dreamily aware that Simon had found other First Years, and was fast becoming friends with them. But he snapped right awake when he felt the train slowing as it pulled into the station at Hogwarts. A rush of excitement filled him. "Home," he thought.
He waited until all the children departed the compartment, then opened his valise. Of course, it wasn't a normal Muggle valise. Instead, it was a Bag of Holding, which he himself created when he was Head Boy at Hogwarts as his final exam. It could contain in a magically organized way anything that could fit inside and always have room for more and never get heavier. Since the opening could widen to accommodate anything (up to and including his Muggle car), it could and did hold all his possessions. He felt perfectly safe with everything in there too, since it was protected with teeth that could chew off an intruder's hand in a single bite (proven by a sadly mistaken thief one time in Bombay).
He reached inside and pulled out his Cloak of Invisibility. He swung it over his shoulders, and disappeared from sight. Smiling, he closed to the valise and pulled it inside his cloak, then left the train. There was the familiar excitement in the air at the station, and he found himself inhaling deeply, trying to capture the essence of Hogwarts even inside himself.
He saw that the First Years were being rounded up to be led to the school, and hurried to the coaches waiting for the other students. He almost laughed at the startled expressions of the occupants when he jumped on the back of one. It was roaring fun, to hang onto the back of the coach (magically drawn without horses).
Hogwarts castle loomed larger and larger, until he was there. He still had a bit of time before The Sorting, so he slid silently and quickly through the familiar hallways to the Head Master's room. Harry adjusted his perpetually bent eyeglasses, and tried to smooth his always-ruffled hair. He was about to knock when he heard moaning from inside. Was someone hurt?
The younger, brasher Harry Potter would have burst through the door, intent on saving whoever was inside. Harold Potter, though, thought he detected a more... adult tone to the moan which gave him pause.
Whipped out his wand, uttering "Goggleramus". His eyeglasses magically detached themselves from his face, and traveled out and away, looking like a shadow. He used his wand to point the way they should go. It had initially been confusing to practice this spell, because while his body remained where it was, his vision traveled with the glasses. It made for some awkwardness at first, getting the angles right, but over time he had found it to be a most useful spell.
Harry pointed his glasses to the door, and he was momentarily blinded as they passed through. He twisted his wand, urging the glasses to look around. His vision almost instantly locked on the desk. Then, he was glad he hadn't barged in.
Professor McGonagall was seated on Professor Dumbledore's desk. Her robe was hiked up and Harry could see she would be naked underneath. Blocking the view of her good bits was Professor Dumbledore, who was kneeling in front of her, his head pressed to her crotch. Prof. McGonagall was moaning, obviously enjoying Prof. Dumbledore's technique.
Harry was in a dilemma. Should he respect their privacy, or should he move the glasses to see better? What to do?!
Harry's curious nature took over as it had since boyhood. Waving his wand, he maneuvered his glasses around the edge of the room, turning them so he could still see. He found an angle where it was obvious that Prof. Dumbledore was probing Prof. McGonagall's pussy with his tongue. Harry's glasses floated a little closer so that he could confirm what he was seeing. Harry muttered "Audibility", which began a charm that enhanced his hearing so that he could hear inside the room.
He became focused on Prof. McGonagall's pussy. He was astonished to see that she had a very well-used looking pussy. Her pussy lips were hanging like a towel on a rack, and the tongue pleasing her was swirling around and around the opening of her hole. The hole itself was gaping open like a Muggle nickel, a vivid pink inside. Harry's cock twitched at the horny sight, thinking about how sloppy it would be to fuck a pussy like that.
Prof. Dumbledore took his hands off her thighs, and used his thumbs to spread her lips wide. Prof. McGonagall moaned again as he shoved his tongue in and out, fucking her with his mouth muscle. Harry saw his long white hair swaying back and forth, and was reminded of a woman bobbing her face on a dick. When Prof. Dumbledore withdrew his tongue, he pulled out a sticky strand of girl juice with it. Harry, an avid pussy eater, felt his cock harden completely as he thought about how tasty it would be.
"MMMMMmmmmm," Prof. Dumblefore, muttered. "You are so wet today, my dear. I love eating you." He pulled back her heavy clit hood to reveal her hard pearl. He wrapped his ancient lips around it, and began nursing wetly at it. He sucked mostly, but also tickled her clit with the tip of his pointed tongue.
Prof. McGonagall began thrusting her hips at his face, reacting with violent pleasure. "Oh, GOD, Aldus, you HAVE to fuck me. FUCK me now!" He ignored her, dropping down to suck and lick at her grayish pink lips.
Harry could imagine the feel and taste of her velvety flesh as he saw Prof. Dumbledore take one entire lip in his mouth, sucking and chewing. Harry's non-wand hand cupped his dick, not yet ready to openly stroke himself, but needing some touching.
"Aldus, you have to fuck me now," she pleaded, panting and wild-eyed.
"We'll have to hurry," Prof. Dumbledore replied. "The Sorting will start soon." He stood and pulled off his robe. He was wearing cotton undershorts, which he promptly dropped. Harry's eyes popped when he saw how big the Professor's cock was. It was long and thick, as big around as Harry's wrist. It was also uncircumcised, and Harry watched as Prof. Dumbledore pulled back his foreskin to reveal his shining dickhead, the eye oozing precum that formed a string towards the floor.
"Yes, yes. We can hurry," Prof. McGonagall agreed. "Just hurry and shove it in." Her fingers were caressing the clit Aldus Dumbledore had abandoned, circling it and lightly tapping.
Prof. Dumbledore looked over directly at Harry's phantom glasses, still hovering ghost-like far away amidst the clutter of the room. Harry shrank back, startled. Prof. Dumbledore closed one of his spooky blue eyes--he winked at Harry! Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Spread your legs Minerva," Prof. Dumbledore commanded. "I like to see your cunt swallowing my prick."
"Oh, damn Aldus!" she giggled. "I love it when you talk dirty!" She pushed her fanny forward, so that she could lean back better. Then she arched her ankles high and back, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling her lips wide apart with her fingers. Harry, despite being found out, moved his glasses closer yet. He swore he could see for inches inside her canal.
Prof. Dumbledore put his cockhead against her opening, and Harry held his breath as he slid in slowly. He listened to them both groan as his fat member slid firmly in. Harry now understood one reason why Prof. McGonagall's pussy looked sot stretched: it had years of that monster going in and out.
When his cock was in all the way (after much huffing and puffing by them both), Prof. Dumbledore picked his wand up off the desk. "We have to hurry," he said for the second time. Prof. McGonagall pulled her's out of her robe, and touched Prof. Dumbledore's. He leaned forward and they french kissed.
As they let out a moan, something happened. Both their bodies turned to smoke! Harry blinked, unsure of what he was seeing. He moved his glasses to another angle, checking. They weren't exactly like smoke, because he couldn't see through them, but they were indistinct. It was really unusual, Harry thought.
About a minute later, they reappeared solidly again. Harry was surprised to see that Prof. Dumbledore was grunting and stabbing his fat cock in and out spastically. He was cumming, and that much was obvious. Both of them were covered in sweat, the kind of sweat a truly vigorous fucking creates.
"Oh God, you are a great fuck," Miverva McGonagall purred as Prof. Dumbledore nearly collapsed. "Now, make me cum again," she urged.
"With extreme pleasure," Prof. Dumbledore smiled wearily. Harry's glasses moved in closer to watch The Withdrawal. Prof. Dumbledore slowly slid his cock out as it shrank, leaving her pussy open like a vast cavern.
Harry thought it looked very well fucked indeed, red with use and covered with her natural slime. Her clit was very visible now, hard and big, engorged with blood. Harry licked his lips, thinking about the smell and taste. He'd have to find a spell to allow him to remotely experience those senses too.
When his dickhead popped out, Prof. Dumbledore surprised Harry. He nimbly squatted, putting his tongue under her opening. Harry swung his glasses into a good viewing area, getting another wink from Prof. Dumbledore. Damn!
"Give it to me now, Minerva," Prof. Aldus Dumbledore said, returning his tongue into position. Harry watched, astounded, as her pussy seemed to spasm. Then, a thick glob of his own semen oozed out of her canal and onto his tongue!
He held his tongue there as she squeezed again and again, emitting his cum. "Oh shit, I wish you could make me cum with that tongue and let me eat it," she moaned. Harry watched as his cupped tongue filled with his cream, and then he brought it in and gulped it down. Immediately then, he began licking and sucking her gooey pussy, cleaning her inside and out. At the same time, he somehow concentrated on her clit, making her shake again and again.
Harry was in school again, watching like a pupil as a master cuntlicker brought his subject to another orgasm. He drank it all in as Prof. Dumbledore drank in all his cum and her juices. Harry's erection wilted a little as he concentrated on the details of how Prof. Dumbledore's tongue moved--danced, really--over her entire sticky crotch. He was fascinated by the concept of eating his own cum from a pussy and her pleasured reaction to it.
She soon came, practically howling. Harry saw Prof. Dumbledore cover her pussy with his mouth, watching his Adam's apple bob. He guessed her orgasm was ejecting more cum/juice and that Prof. Dumbledore was literally drinking it. Harry regained his erection, nearing orgasm himself.
Prof. Dumbledore stood and pushed his tongue into her mouth quickly, letting her taste their mixture. He quickly broke the kiss reluctantly, apologizing "We really do have to hurry... the Sorting is about to begin."
Harry was startled again. He'd almost forgotten. "Opty" he said, and his glassed reappeared on his face, returning his vision home. "Quietus," he said, restoring his hearing to normal.
He practically ran, still invisible, to the Great Hall. Checking that no one was around, he removed the cloak and put it in his Bag of Holding. Then he entered the Hall. The room was filled with floating golden candles; a celebration was in order after all. The magical ceiling showed the approaching dusk, with dark orange hues turning purple. When it was dark, the Sorting would begin.
Harry was unsurprised to see that Profs. Dumbledore and McGonagall were already at the staff's table. Their faces were a little pink, and Harry wondered if they were always that shade on the first day and he was just now understanding why.
Prof. Harold Potter, Order of Merlin First Class(twice awarded), took his seat at the staff table for the very first time, and felt he was home again.
After Harry sat, he found himself standing immediately again. He was glad handed from all sides by the faculty of Hogwarts, which formed a smiling small circle all about him. The crowd parted just a bit, and there was old Professor Severus Snape. Severus Snape had been a bitter professor of Potions when Harry had attended Hogwarts, and time hadn't been kind to him. If anything, it seems he had gotten even more bitter, his skin wrinkled as if his soul's shriveling was reflected on the outside too.
"Hello, Potter," Snape spat. "Didn't expect I'd see you again, although it has seemed impossible to read the papers without seeing you there."
"Hello, Prof. Snape," Harry said, a bit wilted. It wasn't his fault he was famous, was it? He was famous well before he even knew about magic! "I am glad to see you again after these years," he lied. He extended his hand in greeting, and Snape grudgingly grasped it in his cold bony grip. Harry felt a shiver going up his arm as the cold seemed to spread.
"I expect you are a member of the faculty?" Snape commented. His cold beady eyes fixed on Harry's as his face screwed into a sneer. "What position are you taking?"
Harry had a flashback to all the times Snape had sneered at him, which happened to be all the times Snape had spoken to him. Before Harry could answer, though, Professor Dumbledore's voice boomed into the Great Hall.
"Silence please!" he commanded. "I am pleased to welcome you all to Hogwarts for what will be another excellent year. But first, I want to thank especially the First Years who were brave enough to come. No doubt, you are all anxious to learn which House the students will be in. So, without delay, let The Sorting begin!" The students in the four houses of Hogwarts (Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw) burst into wild applause, anxious to learn which of the First Year's would join their ranks.
Two of the most elderly in the faculty carried out the great Sorting Hat. This magical pointed wizard's hat could detect which of the four houses the new students were best suited for. Then it would shout it out and the student was accepted by their new home at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore began calling out the names of the First Years, and they were fitted with the cap in turn. The hat called out "Hufflepuff!" or "Slytherin!" or "Gryffindor!" or "Ravenclaw!" seemingly randomly, but it somehow knew which was best. Harry had a flashback to his own Sorting, when the hat muttered to him about how he could do very well at Slytherin. Harry's determination to not go to Slytherin convinced the hat that Harry should go to Gryffindor. It had been a near thing, though.
The one student Harry knew was Simon Simple. Harry watched closely as Dumbledore called "Simple, Simon" and Simon took his place to be Sorted. He felt an inward warmth of satisfaction as the young boy was placed into Gryffindor.
When The Sorting was complete, Prof. Dumbledore made his announcements.
"The Sorting Hat has done its usual excellent job, I expect. Congratulations to you all. Now I hope you will join me in welcoming our new faculty to Hogwarts. I would like to introduce to you a former Head Girl of Hogwarts. She is the only one ever to score perfect marks in her senior year in all classes. She will be teaching Charms this year. Please help me welcome Professor Hermione Granger!"
Harry's eyes went wide as his head swiveled to look at the far end of the banquet table. Standing was his old school chum, Hermione. He barely heard the applause as he rose to his feet to cheer. His mind was going over all the adventures they shared, good and bad, during their stay at Hogwarts. She would be a site for sore eyes.
Except, she didn't do anything to make his eyes sore. Quite the opposite. She had blossomed since he saw her. Or else it had taken years of separation for him to appreciate her. Regardless, his eyes drank in her slender form, every male fiber responding the curves in her robe in just the right spots. He gazed at her exquisitely fragile face, and saw her look down the table into his eyes. His breath caught as he saw her look shyly down, her cheeks turning a cute pink. Now a man, he realized she was attracted to him. His dick shuddered a little, and he wondered at that. Surely he couldn't have sex with Hermione?!
The applause died soon, and Dumbledore began his next introduction. "The other new faculty member this year really doesn't need any introduction. He became famous for defeating He Who Must Not Be Named as an infant. He beat him four times, finally vanquishing him completely and making our world much safer. But then he has gone on to even greater celebrity, solving sticky problems all over the world. He has been awarded the Order of Merlin First Class, not once but twice. I am proud to say he was a student here, and I welcome him back as Professor in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He is our own Harry Potter!"
Harry's face had gotten slightly pink during the flowery introduction. It went beet red as everyone thundered out an overwhelming applause. Hats flew into the air in the jubilation. Harry looked all around, recording the moment in his heart. It was a moment of personal triumph.
The only one not cheering himself hoarse was Prof. Snape. His applause was no more than half-hearted. He had wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position since before Harry attended Hogwarts. He now had even more reason to hate Harry.
After order was restored, the feast began. Harry always had enjoyed the feasts as a youth, since it meant you could eat all you wanted (a definite plus after living with the Dursley's during the summer, where he would have starved to death if they had got their way). But now, he wanted it over so that he could approach Hermione. Not only had he missed her, but he now had more adult reasons to renew their friendship.
As soon as the meal was over, though, Harry was besieged by admirers. Hermione did try to get to him, but there was literally a crowd of children surrounding Harry. Finally, with a rueful smile and mouthed "I'll catch you later." She disappeared beyond the throng, disappointing Harry more than he would have guessed.
Finally, though, the crowd dissipated, and Harry suddenly realized he didn't know where he was to sleep! As if on cue, Prof. Dumbledore appeared at his elbow. "I am so very glad you agreed to join our faculty," he said. "You will be a great asset here." He shook Harry's hand warmly, a somewhat sly expression on his face. "Its nice to have someone so likeable keeping a close watch on things."
Harry turned pale. Was that an intentional double entendre? "Uh, yes, of course," he stammered. Did Prof. Dumbledore want him to watch them? He decided it was so. "I am very glad to be here Professor Dumbledore."
"Harry, you are an adult now! You can call us all by our first names. I am Aldus, if you don't know." He smiled again, which seemed so different from the stern headmaster Harry remembered. Aldus Dumbledore turned, revealing the man harry hadn't noticed behind him. "Oh, you remember Argus Filch, don't you Harry?"
Harry did remember Mr. Filch, cranky caretaker of Hogwarts. He just didn't expect to see him still here. "Yes, of course. Nice to see you, uh, again Mr. Filch," Harry said. He almost had said 'nice to see you still alive', but didn't.
"Call me Argus, when the student's ain't around," he said.
"Argus will show you to your room," Aldus said. "I expect you'll want to make it home before you turn in."
"Yes, thank you... Aldus," Harry replied. It would be difficult to be so personal with a man he so greatly respected.
"This way," Filch said abruptly, leading Harry out of the Great Hall. Harry was led down to the faculty rooms, and Harry thought he saw Filch speed up to get past Severus Snape's room. Harry didn't blame him a bit; he'd want to get past the old goat's room quickly too. Or should that be 'Old Snake,' since Severus Snape seemed to so greatly favor Slytherin, the house whose symbol was an emerald snake.
"Here you are," said Filch, swinging open a door. Harry saw that his room consisted of a roughly boxlike area, with bare walls, a bookshelf, a desk, and a bed. "Have a nice night," Filch said, closing the door behind him.
Harry got busy, pulling his furnishings out of his valise. In thirty minutes, it was rather comfortable. The rewards Harry got for solving the problems he did had enabled him to buy some rather nice things. The room had probably never been so nicely set up, Harry decided smugly.
He sat on the bed to pull off his shoes when he heard a light tap on his door. He opened it, surprised to see it was Hermione! "Hello, Harry. It's been a while," she said in her direct way.
"Hermione!" he enthused, "Come on in!" He closed the door behind her, and then gave her a quick kiss on each cheek. "It was a fantastic surprise to see you earlier, and I am glad you came by. I was disappointed we didn't get to talk."
"Well, you are quite the celebrity," she sniffed. Harry knew that she understood he never sought fame; it had been thrust upon him. "I am almost glad, because I could always know where you were." They sat on his sofa, sinking into the soft cushions.
"I on the other hand never knew where you were," Harry said sourly. "When you didn't return any of my messages, I finally gave up." He had sent several owlgrams to Hermione, and the owls came back message-less. Harry's anger over her rebuke of him was bubbling up.
"I couldn't imagine why you would have talked to me!" she blurted. Harry saw she serious, and on the edge of tears. They had always been fast friends. It never occurred to him that she would feel inferior!
"Oh, Hermione," he said, his anger gone. "I missed you so much!" He leaned over and took her hand.
"How could you? You have been so busy battling evil!" Her eyes were brimming with tears, he saw, and his pent up anger morphed into quite a different emotion.
He gazed at her in the eyes, then reached up to cup her cheek. Hermione's lower lip quivered, threatened to burst into sobs. Harry quietly pulled the surprised Hermione into a kiss. It was a quiet kiss, something both had longed for ages ago and yet had refused to act on. The quiet kiss held, then strengthened as they both realized their emotions were misplaced. Harry had felt anger, Hermione fear. Both were the result of trying to hide their real emotions for each other.
Harry was surprised when Hermione's mouth opened, inviting his tongue inside. He thrust it in, taking command of the moment. Hermione let out a long low sigh as Harry swirled his tongue inside her mouth, then she joined the fray and their tongues battled with increased fervor. The quiet comforting kiss had led to another sort of kiss altogether.
Hermione broke the kiss after a long time, leaving them both red faced and panting. "Harry, I never knew you could kiss so well!"
"I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, Hermione," he admitted. "But it just didn't seem right when we were students," he said. "I wanted to kiss you, but I was afraid it would become more."
"More?" she said, and looking at his face, she understood. She blushed, and quite prettily, Harry decided. She looked up at him with the fierce determination he adored. "Are you still afraid?" she asked.
"Not if you aren't," he said. "We are adults, after all." He smiled his crazy boyish smile.
Instead of smiling, Hermione stood up with a comical struggle from the deep cushions. She reached down and pulled her robe up and over her head. "Do I look afraid?" she asked.
She was very nude. Harry looked down and saw for the first time that she was wearing very high-heeled strappy sandals, that made her feet look deliciously dainty. Her legs were long and firm, not skinny at all. Muscular, maybe. Her legs joined a very nice hips, with the promise of a nicely rounded ass which Harry couldn't see. Harry's gaze lingered over her pussy, which was tight and girlish... and bald. Harry's mind flashed to Minerva McGonagall's sloppy big cunt, and how it differed so wildly. He thought he'd want to fuck Hermione's first... and the thought that he might fuck his old friend made him quake. His eyes traveled up over her firm stomach to her very womanly breasts. He locked his eyes on her large brown nipples, feeling his mouth beginning to salivate. He wanted to suck on those babies! Finally, he met Hermione's eyes, which had been following his meandering travels up her body.
"Damn, you are hot," he said.
Hermione smiled brilliantly. It was like she had been preparing for this very moment, and it had turned out perfectly. "Sit back," she purred. Harry did, watching her approach him. She squatted in front of him, pulling up his robe and mostly studying his eyes. Harry was wondering if that tight pussy was getting wet, opening and beginning to drip. He himself was fully hard. When Harry's undies were exposed, Hermione gave him a wink and put her mouth on where his dick head was. She sucked at him then, and Harry gave out a long moan.
He had often stolen off to the bathroom in his senior year, after spending time planning school activities with Hermione. As Head Boy and Head Girl of Hogwarts, they had spent a long time together making sure the students were properly served. Towards the end of the school year, Harry's urge to have sex with Hermione was such that he had to relieve himself frequently. He had often imagined Hermione sucking his cock. Now that she was, he knew his fantasies didn't even compare.
Hermione nursed at his covered cock for a while, driving Harry crazy. "Oh God, Hermione, just suck me... don't tease me."
"You teased me for years, Mr. Potter," she said. "I've wanted to suck your cock since our fifth year. I wanted to feel your fat balls slapping my ass as you fucked me, and see your eyes roll as you came deep in me. So forgive me if I get a little revenge now!"
Harry's mind was in an uproar! But it got worse quickly, when Hermione pulled down his shorts, and tossed them to him. Watching his eyes, she pointed his dick at her face, then wrapped her lips around him. Harry let out a groan of pleasure as she sank him slowly into her mouth, her lips pressing tightly against his shaft. He knew she was watching his reaction, and somehow the thought of her being so calculating in her cocksucking made him even hotter.
She hit the back of her throat, then slowly pulled off. She looked at his now-shiny cock. "You have a nice big dick," she stated. "Just like I imagined. Long and fat. Good thing I've practiced this." She made sure Harry was watching, then opened her mouth very wide. In one smooth movement, she bobbed down on Harry. He felt his dick bump her throat, and then her throat opened and she deep throated him! Her tight neck was pulsing as she swallowed, squeezing his cock pleasurably.
Harry's head rolled around in ecstasy. No woman had ever managed to deepthroat his 9" dick! Harry tried hard not to cum... it was that good feeling.
Hermione was on top of things, though. She gripped the base of his balls before continuing, ensuring he wouldn't cum. She reached over into her discarded robe and got her wand. With a wink at him, she said "Ballgripper". She removed her hand, but to Harry it felt as if she were still tightly holding his sack down.
Then she proceeded to give Harry the best, most thorough head he had ever received. Her velvety throat was like a glove, urging him to cum. He knew his eventual orgasm would be his biggest ever.
But Hermione had other plans. "Stand up," she commanded. Harry did, and she took his place on the couch. She spread her legs showing Harry her gorgeous twat. "Eat me Harry," she said. "Put that parseltongue to work!" She referred to Harry's ability to speak to snakes... she'd never let him live that down!
Harry knelt in front of her, and gazed at her pussy. It was perfect. Nicely rounded, with just a hint of lips. Harry loved big pussy lips, but Hermione's looked as innocent as he thought of her. He leaned in and sniffed her... she smelled wonderfully musky.
"It's so pretty... you're so pretty," Harry muttered. Then he took his first taste of his friend. It was hard to tell who enjoyed it more, Hermione or Harry. Both let long sighs escape as Harry took a deep lick into her, finishing with a flick over her clit. He found that she was very wet, and that opening her up unleashed a river of her juices. Harry happily sucked at her nectar, avidly eating her.
"Oh God it feels good," Hermione moaned. Harry looked up at her, watching her face as he licked her passionately. Hermione's mouth was open, her eyes were shut, and her cheeks were a very becoming pink. Harry felt such joy as he brought her pleasure, an emotional bond. The fact that she was oozing like a juicy orange freshly sliced open just was a topper.
Harry looked at all her signals. Sopping pussy. Heaving chest. Popping hard nipples (funny he never noticed her figure before today). Harry knew she was close to cumming and he wanted her to cum on his face. But Hermione had other plans.
"Stop... Harry stop..." she pleaded. Harry was confused, since she was very close to orgasm. She pulled him up and kissed him, hungrily sucking her own flavor. Then she pushed him away far enough to study his face. "I need to tell you what I have been doing, OK?"
Harry was a bit surprised, but nodded his head. He wanted to put his face back in her crotch, and lick her delightful pussy. He relaxed patiently, waiting for whatever she wanted to say.
Hermione reached down and pulled him up, kissing him fiercely. Her kisses were savage, seemingly born of a desire to possess Harry. Then she flung his head back to speak to him again. "After we graduated, I went to Lebanon to study mystical ways there. I met a man... a Muggle. He said he loved me. I was horribly confused, Harry... I thought I loved him." Hermione's expression made it clear that she now knew she had not actually loved him. "He wanted sex... 'love making' he called it."
"Hermione," Harry interjected, "You don't need to explain anything.... I understand."
"Let me finish, Harry," she said stubbornly. "He wanted to fuck me, but he also said his parents required his bride to be a virgin. So... we began having anal sex." Harry's eyes widened, and Hermione frowned. "And Harry, it was great. It felt so good to me... I loved the closeness and the animal-like sex. Having him in me made me feel complete."
"Hermione, I think it is excellent that you two found a way to make love that suited your needs," Harry said, but he was envisioning himself pushing into that nice backside of hers.
"He didn't know I wasn't a virgin," she said.
"You weren't?" Harry asked, amazed. "You let him assfuck you to retain your virginity and you weren't even a virgin?" He shook his head. "That's incredible."
"No... what's incredible is that we finally did fuck 'normally' and then he dumped me because he had to marry a virgin." Hermione was really sour at the memory, and Harry couldn't blame her.
"I'm sorry Hermione," he said, kissing her.
"Don't be," she said. Then she broke the increasingly heavy mood by adding, "Because it taught me a lot about what I like."
"And what would that be?" Harry asked.
"I like to be assfucked until I cum screaming. Then I like my love to fuck my pussy until he cums."
"MMMMMmmmmm, sounds verrrrry nice," Harry commented, kissing her again. This kiss was more animalistic as Harry and Hermione were very hot.
"So, fuck my ass, Mr. Harold Potter. Fuck it hard, and don't take it easy on me. I need it rough, and deep. Then cum in me and I'll give you a surprise." Hermione winked at him.
"Now that," Harry grinned, "sounds like a plan!"
She rolled him off, then and put her face on the floor, her ass up high. Harry moved behind her and looked at her asshole. It looked well used indeed. He bent down, licking her brown opening lovingly. Hermione shuddered and let out a low moan. Harry pulled her firm cheeks apart and pushed his tongue into her ass. Hermione began to moan, then a minute later began begging him to put his cock in.
Harry gripped her cheeks hard, and pushed into her butt. Her asshole opened expertly to allow him passage, then squeezed tightly around him. He found himself gritting his teeth, as he experienced the fantastic warm depths of her ass. Then he realized her ball-gripping spell was still in place, preventing his orgasm. He knew that without it he would be soon filling her ass with thick spunk.
"Lubrimoistness," Harry intoned, and he felt her ass lube up magically. Hermione moaned again, knowing that he was about to fuck her hard. Harry did, pumping her in a strong long stroke, enjoying the sensations and loving the fact that he was able to build his own orgasm without fear of cumming too soon. Hermione loved it too, her pussy getting very wet and wetting Harry's balls as they slapped against her.
Harry pulled all the way out, and studied her gaping opening before shoving back in and listening to her grunt. Harry felt her spasm and she fell onto her belly. Harry followed, and began pumping hard into her ass. "Do that more... empty me and fill me", she begged. Harry began a rhythm of pulling all the way out and then sliding all the way in one smooth motion. He could hear her ass sucking at him as he pulled out, and making sloppy wet noises as he plunged back in.
Hermione began whimpering with need. "Faster... harder!" she urged. "C'mon... I'm almost there... oh!" Harry had varied his stroke by just popping in and out of her sphincter fast, teasing her. Then he pushed in deeply to fill her full, his curly pubic hairs pressed against her cheeks.
She was close, he knew. He reached down and gripped her hair, arching her back as she remained in the doggy position. She pushed back as he pulled her hair, pulling her onto his fat cock. He rocked his hips forward, hitting her ass with his body as he slammed into her over and over.
Hermione cried out, cumming hard with his cock up her ass. Her ass squeezed him hard as her orgasm contracted her whole lower torso. Harry knew he would be pumping her full of cum if her were able to. She felt that good.
When she stopped cumming, she lay still on her belly, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Then she reached out and gripped her wand. "Pull out Harry... let me roll over." He did, and she sat up on her elbows. She reached out with her wand, saying "Disinfectium" and touching his steaming member. "Now, let me clean you off so you can fuck my pussy," she told him.
Harry was incredulous as she guided his prick to her mouth. Moaning, she began licking the cock that had just been in her ass. She looked up at him, watching his reaction. It felt delightfully wicked to have the 'pure' Hermione so eagerly swallowing his dirty cock. She was anything but pure, he now knew.
She stopped, and held his meat in her hands. "Harry," Hermione said, "do it now. Fuck my pussy!" She laid back, spreading her legs very wide.
Harry looked down at her, seeing how wet she was. He placed his cock against her seeping crack. He lowered his mouth to hers, and as he did he pressed himself in. Hermione trembled, and then he slid in.
"Oh it feels so good!" she cried. "I've waited so long for this... fuck me..." She was marvelous inside, as tight as her well-used ass, but much wetter and hotter. Harry kept kissing her over and over. Hermione lifted her legs up, then pulled her thighs back so that Harry could plunge in deeply.
He fucked her for a long time, enjoying every second of it. He knew she was close to orgasm again, but he was past due. The spell had prevented his cumming, enabling him to be like a porn video stud. But he wanted to cum. Needed to.
"Let me on top," Hermione panted. Harry rolled on his back and Hermione sat astride him. She started milking his cock as he continued to slide in and out of her now-sloppy-wet pussy. She was steaming hot! "Ready to cum?" she asked?
"Oh, fuck yeah," he smiled. He would cum a bucketful.
"OK..." she reached over and grabbed her wand. "Testacular" she said, waving it at him.
Harry felt his balls suddenly release, and just as suddenly engage deep in his body. he had been past ready for orgasm, and his body reacted instantly. Harry saw stars arcing through his vision as he began to spasm. He pushed in deeply, and felt his dick swelling as a jet of sperm moved through it and into Hermione. She cooed at him, urging him to cum more and more. He came with a magically long stream of cum, held back for too long. Consequently, it was his best orgasm ever. And it was into his old friend Hermione.
Finally, he stopping spurting, and began shrinking. He felt whipped, drained. "Shit, Hermione," he said. "I am exhausted."
"Read for your surprise?" she smiled.
"Mmmmmm," he said, sleepily. He was in the midst of the biggest post-orgasm blues, ever. "I am so tired, but I want my surprise."
"OK, then, here's your surprise," she said. Hermione did surprise him by lifting off his shrinking cock and putting her hand over her pussy. "Open wide," she smiled. With something akin to horror, Harry remembered his promise to her. She removed her hand and Harry saw her pussy gaping above his mouth. Rather than being the tightly closed thing he had seen earlier in the evening, her pussy was now open as wide as a quarter, stretched open by his hard screwing. And on the brink, about to drip out, was the first of his sperm.
Harry thought back to Prof. Dumbledore, and how he had eaten his cum from Prof. McGonagall. It wasn't an unusual act, he thought. Harry respected no one more than Aldus Dumbledore. If it he liked to do it, Harry reasoned, it was for a good reason.
Hermione lowered her pussy before his cum could ooze out. Her pussy enveloped his mouth, and Harry tasted the slime on his extended tongue. He had experienced facesitting before, and loved it. But never had the pussy been filled to the brim with cream.
Biting the bullet, Harry swirled his tongue into her, his tastebuds bathed in cum. It wasn't so bad, tasting like thick pussy juice. It was exceedingly pungent, like distilled femininity, which Harry found exciting. Hermione was also making a nice seal around his mouth, forcing him to gasp for breath. Every gasp made a sucking movement, which caused her to squirt in excitement. In three minutes, Hermione came. As she did, a thick gooey mouthful of creampie was ejected into Harry's mouth. Harry could have had a hard time, but Hermione rocked forward as she came, letting him breathe. He swallowed his mouthful of cum pudding, and found himself loving it.
Harry could now also see it dripping out of her pussy, and stringy white cream. Harry felt drawn to bring his tongue in and scoop it out. He loved it! He lapped eagerly at her, wanting to extract every drop from her. Hermione was still shaking as Harry repeatedly buried his tongue deep between the folds of her pussy. He kept exploring for more until her juice was pure, and no longer a mixture of his ejaculation. In the process, she came another time.
Both were weary, so Harry suggested they go to bed. As they laid side by side, Hermione licked his face clean of the juices that had drained from her. "Like my present?" she asked him.
"Well, it wasn't what I expected," he said. "But I did enjoy it a lot!"
"MMMmmmm," she purred, putting her head on his chest. Harry put his arm around her, urging her closer. "Then, we'll have to do it again."
"Definitely," Harry said, as he and Hermione dropped into very pleasant dreams.
Harold Potter awoke the next morning, coming softly out of sleep with a very pleasant feeling. He felt like he had been having a very sexy dream about Hermione giving him a blowjob. As he became more conscious, he realized that Hermione was in fact giving him a blowjob. She had a nice and slow rhythm, sucking gently down half his shaft, and stroking the remaining half. She wasn't drawing seed; she was enjoying his flesh.
"What a nice way to wake up," he said groggily. He idly stroked her hair, feeling her head moving to please him.
"I think so too," she said. Then she shimmied over and straddled his face in a 69 position. Harry saw she was dripping wet, her tangy juices already oozing out. "Make me cum before I have to leave to get dressed."
Harry didn't really need any prodding. He pulled her dripping hole to his mouth and lapped at her. His tongue moved slowly, deliberately, in the same sort of tempo as she was making with his cock. His fingers spread her open so that he could push his tongue deep inside. He pressed it against the front of her pussy, drawing it up and keeping it pressed hard to stimulate her nerve endings. He finished with a full tongue slide across her clitoris, which made her gasp.
He wanted to fuck her again 3; to eat his cum again. That had been HOT. Dumbledore had been wise, indeed. He had never thought cumeating could have been so pleasant. That made him wonder what else he had been missing in his sexlife.
Hermione began sliding her pussy up and down his face, moaning "oh yeah, keep doing that" over and over. Harry did, but every so often flickered his tongue directly over her clit. Hermione loved it, her moans making Harry's cock buzz. She began pushing her face farther and farther onto him, and Harry involuntarily began fucking her mouth. Both of them were fucking the other's face, pleasing their partner while edging closer to orgasm.
Since it was sex between a witch and a wizard, maybe it wasn't surprising that they experienced the "magical" simultaneous orgasms. Hermione's pussy began flooding Harry's mouth, and he swallowed repeatedly to keep from drowning. As he thought about how horny it was, his orgasm continued until his nuts actually hurt.
Harry flopped back, panting. Hermione, though, seemed invigorated. She spun around at him, and cupped his face. Harry opened his eyes, to see that her cheeks were puffed out. Hermione silently pulled his mouth open then opened her own. Harry's eyes widened as he realized his cum was dripping out of her mouth! With a loud moan, he captured his cum in his mouth.
Harry savored the sexy flavor, swirling his tongue in it. Hermione let out a whimpering moan and plunged her tongue into his mouth. They kissed for a long time, fighting over the cum until it was all gone. Sensing her need, Harry reached down and stroked her pussy with his hand until she came again, trying to breathe during their kissing. Hermione rolled off him then, and they laid there sweating.
"Nice way to wake up," Harry repeated.
They got up and began their week. The first week seemed uncommonly hectic. The various classes of students represented different challenges. The eager yet naïve First Years were in sharp contrast to the knowing Seventh Years. They all seemed to have one thing in common: awe of Professor Harold Potter.
Harry had feared that it would be trying to keep them interested in his lessons. On purpose, he modeled his teaching style after his old friend Remus Lupin. Prof. Lupin had been his favorite teacher, not talking down to the students, but anxious to share his knowledge. Harry had that same urge and the same belief that learning Defense Against the Dark Arts was important.
He had learned that it was best to learn by doing. Therefore, he intended to bring his collection of monsters for them to try out. The First Years quaked at first in fear of the simple Pixies he released, but were soon able to contain them. The Sevenths were easily able to manage defending against the Pixies, so Harry concentrated on teaching them to capture the pixies unharmed which was considerably harder.
By Friday, Harry was worn out. He had considerably more respect for his old professors. Since he was loosing creatures in the classroom, he had felt needed to retain his full faculties. But on Friday evening, he was ready to relax. Hermione had a date, which made Harry faintly jealous, so he headed to Hogsmeade for some entertainment away from the children. Idly, Harry noted the full moon, shining beautifully over the glistening lake.
He popped into the candy emporium, Honeydukes. He bought some Chocoballs-chocolate balls full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream-- and, ever the kid, some Sherbert Balls which made him float a few inches off the ground. He also bought some of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans to give to Hermione as a sentimental gift. He still remembered when she gave him an earwax flavored one.
Eventually, he got to The Three Broomsticks, his favorite tavern in Hogsmeade. He was welcomed by Madam Rosemerta, the curvy proprietor. She made a big deal about his return, and even kissed him on both cheeks. Harry turned red, which seemed to delight her. She sat him off to the side in a smallish booth then took his order. As she walked away, Harry thought about how she seemed even better looking with age. At the bar, she turned quickly and caught him looking at her very fine legs. Caught, Harry turned a bright red again.
She returned with a nice big mug of foaming Butterbeer. She set it on the table, then sat down next to Harry, moving him over so that she was next to him.
"So," she began, "this is my little Harry Potter. All grown up!"
"It is good to see you again Madam Rosemerta," Harry returned, feeling flustered. He distinctly recalled that his first wet dream had involved her.
"Call me Rosie," she said. "You are quite famous 3; but then you always have been famous."
"It isn't my fault Voldemort killed my parents and not me," he said. He saw her wince at his name. Most people called Voldemort 'He Who Must Not Be Named,' because of the superstitions involving him. Lord Voldemort had been a very evil wizard who had killed many a good witch and wizard without any remorse. Even now, long after Harry had destroyed him completely, his name was taboo.
"Shhhhh," she soothed. She stroked his forehead, brushing away the wild dark locks of hair. Harry felt her fingers on his forehead, and knew she was looking at his scar. The scar Voldemort had given him in his failed attempt to kill Harry. His face burned a little, as he recalled the sexual feelings her touch always brought when he was an older teen. "You know, your lightning bolt looks quite bright against your red forehead," she giggled, kissing him there.
"Rosie!" he blurted out. "Dang!" His face was now cherry-colored.
"OK, I'll leave you alone," she said, standing.
"Rosie," he sighed. "Have you always been so impossibly flirty and I just never knew?"
"Of course," she laughed. A really pleasant laugh. "Why do you think I have so many male clients?" She leaned over the table, 'innocently' letting Harry view her cleavage (which was ample). "Can I tell you a secret though?" she asked.
"Sure," Harry said. He leaned forward, so that she could whisper in his ear (and see her cleavage better).
"Some men I flirt with and it is all business," she confided. "You, I am flirting with because you are all man." She stuck her tongue in his ear, whispering "stick around" even more softly, then laughed and flounced away as his face paled.
Harry drank half his butter beer in a gulp, suddenly very thirsty. He heard a soft 'whump' as if air was imploding.
"I'd stay away from her, I would," Harry heard someone say. He looked across the table to Dobby, an old house elf he had rescued while still a Second Year. Dobby had materialized, making the soft whumping noise.
"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed. "How have you been?!"
"Dobby has been very happy these last years, thanks to you," Dobby said. Dobby had been a house elf in the Malfoy home when Harry first met him. Lucius Malfoy had been an evil wizard, delighting in causing pain to Harry and the other good wizards. When Harry destroyed Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy's close ties to the evil Lord were revealed. Consequently, the Malfoy's were ruined. Long before that, though, Harry had tricked Lucius Malfoy into releasing Dobby from his malevolent servitude. Dobby had been grateful, annoyingly so sometimes, ever since.
"I am glad to hear it," Harry said, raising his hand for Rosie. Immediately, Dobby popped out of sight, puzzling Harry.
"Yes?" Rosie asked, coming over.
"I, uh, wanted a butter beer for a friend, but he left," Harry apoloized.
"Well, if he shows up again, you call me," she smiled before wandering away.
Dobby popped back in right away. "Get in trouble Dobby will, if Madam sees Dobby," he said. His eyes followed her, making sure she wouldn't see him.
"Really? Why?" Harry was curious.
"Dobby cannot say, or Dobby will be in even bigger trouble," Dobby said, sounding pained.
"C'mon Dobby, you can trust me."
"Dobby didn't come to blab or drink. Dobby came to warn Harry."
Harry was surprised. "Warn me? About what?"
"About Madam Rosemerta," Dobby said.
"What about Madam-, I mean Rosie?" Harry asked.
"Dobby cannot say," he replied. "Just do not let her lure Harry upstairs." Dobby looked increasingly anxious. "That is all Dobby can say!"
Harry thought about what that could mean, and decided to ask. "Upstairs is where she sleeps? Are you saying I shouldn't sleep with her? Dobby, I am an adult now, and 3;."
"Dobby knows that! But Dobby also knows that Harry is a good man and that Madam Rosemerta has very different ideas about sex."
"Sex? How do you know about what she likes in sex? Have you been with her?" Harry smiled. But he stopped smiling when he saw the panicked look on Dobby's face.
"Oh no! Dobby blabbed," he said. He also gripped his long ears and began to twist them painfully. "Bad Dobby!" Then Dobby saw that Rosie was turning and beginning to come to the table. "Dobby has to go now! But be carefully, Harry Potter," he warned. Then with a little pop, he disappeared.
Harry was amazed at the weird turn of events, and pondered them as Rosie came through the crowded pub to his table.
"Your friend ever come back?" she asked. She leaned over the table, revealing her bosom again.
"Yes, but he was already drunk so he left," Harry explained. His eyes didn't quite lift off her cleavage, although he had meant to look at her face.
"Say, Harry, why don't you stick around until the place closes?", she asked. "I feel like we need to be friends."
"I think I'd like that," Harry said. Rosie kissed him on the cheek, and Harry forgot all about Dobby's warning.
Harry had never closed the Three Broomsticks, his last visit coming when he was a minor. Besides, he had had better things to do than to be in a pub. Life is just naturally exciting to a youth. But now, Harry waited patiently, nursing his Butterbeers. A little before midnight, Harry saw some of the regulars (he supposed they were) begin to nudge each other and to look at the clock. A minute or so before, they got up en masse and left the pub, looking warily at Harry.
A short toad-like man came to Harry. "C'mon along lad," he hissed. "You mus'n't be around after midnight!"
"Why not?" Harry asked.
"Them brooms is why not," the man replied, looking at the brooms above the back of the bar. "They's isn't safe," he said without any more explanation. Just then, the clock began to strike midnight, and the man's face filled with fear. "OK, but I warned you, " he said. "Remember that! I warned you!" The man hobbled to the door and into the night.
Harry looked around at the bar in disbelief. He and Rosie were the only ones left. Rosie was looking anxiously at Harry, as if worried he too would leave. Harry picked up his Butterbeer and went to her, doing his suavest walk. He would have no competition for Rosie tonight, and he was going to do his best to ensure she was a "sure thing."
"I'm glad we're alone," he said. "But why did everyone leave?"
"Oh, they're afraid of the brooms," Rosie replied. She pointed to them, and Harry saw that they were beginning to move!
"They're alive?!" he exclaimed.
"No, they're enchanted," she said. "They were a gift from an Enchantress to me long ago. They sweep up the place every night on closing. Tonite is a full moon, so they start at midnight of their own accord. Usually, I signal for them to start."
Harry thought he detected an undertone, an intent to deceive him. His years of training as a problem solver had heightened those senses. "And 3;? What are you not telling me?" he asked, watching them beginning to clean.
"OK, you are right," she admitted, knowing that she couldn't lie to him. "They are not really enchanted so much as 3; cursed."
Harry watched them, trying to see what form the curse would take. He noticed that they were not alike, but were three different sizes. There was a big black pushbroom, made of ebony and apparently suited for an industrial application. Another was perhaps maple, blonde and not quite as large as the pushbroom. It had nice full bristles, and reminded Harry of a quidditch broomstick. The last was a small whiskbroom, which was busy getting into the nooks and crannies the others couldn't reach. The three worked very nicely together. Harry didn't see a malicious intent.
"Cursed, huh?" Harry pondered. He turned to look directly at Rosie. "What kind of curse? I have been helpful, as you know, in solving problems."
"I know," she said. Then she admitted, "it is one of the reasons I wanted you to stay."
Harry cringed. "I thought you wanted me," he said, "not my skills."
"I do want you, Harry. But, I want your skills too. Need your skills." She reached out to him. "Come upstairs and I can explain," she said, caressing his face and brushing a lock of unruly hair out of his eyes. "Please?"
"I don't know," Harry said. "I've been warned about going upstairs," he said.
"I can prove I want you," she said, running her fingers lightly over her blouse, then squeezing what must have been her milky breasts. "If you come upstairs, I will let you cum in my mouth before I explain."
Harry was startled. He blushed, unaccustomed to such direct mention of cocksucking. "OK," he said, the warnings he had received seeming much less important.
Madam Rosemerta took his hand and led him to a small, easily missed flight of stairs in the back of the pub. Harry followed her, finding himself in a very tidy little room, occupied by a large feather bed. Rosie patted the bed, and Harry sat on it, sinking into the feathertop. "Do you mind if I get naked?" she asked. Without his reply, she pulled her dress up and over her head, revealing a matched set of mesh black panties and bra. Harry watched as she turned around and undid her bra, then turned back to him with her breasts covered by her hands. Harry saw that her nipples were visible between her fingers, and as she kneaded her flesh they extended into knobs the size of thimbles.
Rosie came over and offered one breast to Harry's watering mouth. He began to suck on her nipple, pulling at it and licking it deeply. He sought the nerve endings beneath her aureoles, stimulating them until her nipple was quite hard. Then he switched to the other, and repeated. After that, Rosie stepped back, her face a picture of lust.
"Damn, Harry," she panted. "Now look what you've done!" She gripped the sides of her panties, and slid them down. Harry saw that her pussy was oozing a sticky girljuice, which clung to the crotch of her panties as they were removed. It was like a syrup dripping from a spoon. "You've made me all excited," she said. "Look close!"
Harry leaned in as she turned away and bent over. He saw that her pussy was remarkably large, looking very well used. Her lips were stretched quite a lot, and they were glistening with desire. These she spread, letting Harry look inside. Her entire pussy seemed to be dripping juices, begging him to lick. Before he did, though, he noted that her asshole look nearly equally well used. She had been ridden hard many times front and back. Some men would have been taken aback by the evidence of her sexual appetite, but it merely whet Harry's own appetite.
Harry delicately spread her thighs, and pressed his face into her crotch. She let out a long low moan as Harry lapped at her, licking her very plentiful and delicious cream. Harry continued for a few minutes, and Rosie kept getting more aroused. Finally, she exclaimed, "Hurry, Harry. You need to let me swallow your cock. Please? Now!"
Harry laid back as she turned back around to face him. She pulled up the hem of his robe and straightaway pulled down his boxers. With a hungry growl, she took him between her luscious lips. Expertly, she pressed them against his straining shaft as she slid down and down until his cockhead bumped the back of her throat. She raised up and popped off with a slurp. Then she repeated it, and when he hit the back, she opened her mouth and moaned. Then, she gulped and he sank into her throat with his entire cock was inside her mouth and throat.
She slid off him again, again slurping as the suction was broken. "Fuck my face Harry," she said. "Fuck it like you want to fuck my pussy. Or how you want to fuck my ass. " Harry was quite aroused by her demanding tone. "Fuck my face," she said, almost imploring him, "fuck me and cum in my mouth."
Harry did what she asked, closing his eyes and feeling his orgasm building. He knew he wasn't fucking her great loose cunt. It felt so damn good. Her suction was increasing, and he knew he wouldn't hold out long. He began really pumping, thinking about how he wanted all three holes tonight. His strokes became long and strong and hard, his wet balls slapping her chin as her saliva escaped.
Finally, he blew his wad like Mt. St. Helen's exploding. She kept sucking his cock, the intense feeling of pleasure continuing as he kept ejecting creamy lava. Rosie waited until he stopped spurting, continuing to milk his seed from him, then moved her mouth to his. As was typical lately for Harry, they enjoyed a nicely prolonged snowball kiss, sharing the cum they both had help produce.
Harry had found he was looking forward to it. He was beginning to enjoy the shared experience of swirling his tongue in his cum with his partner. Somehow, accepting his own spunk made his partner feel less used, and in turn enhanced the experience for Harry too. Besides, Harry thought it tasted OK and it appealed to his kinkier side.
Both their immediate needs sated, Harry began to slide down to Madam Rosemerta's non-gently-used crotch. He looked at her ragged opening, brimming full with her honey. "You were going to explain?" he prompted before sliding his tongue into her hot chasm.
She shuddered from the touch of his tongue, then began. "Yes, I was 3; I will." She stopped, obviously reluctant to start. Harry looked up at her, his upper lips covered with her moistness. Rosie struggled, and found the courage to continue.
"Look, I owe you an explanation. I 3; need your help. But it will be your choice to help; it must be for the curse to be broken." She looked at him, her eyes pleading. "But if you decide not to help, please consider my privacy, OK?" A pause. "This is hard for me to say."
Harry pulled his tongue out of Rosie to speak. "I don't lick and tell," he grinned. "I've seen a lot of things and done a lot of things, and I know how to respect privacy," he said.
"Thank you," she murmured. She spread her legs wider as Harry pressed them apart. "Oh! That feels wonderful," she said, as Harry licked her lips and sucked them gently. "I think I have the right man!"
""Rosie," Harry said, stopping once again. "Stop stalling and tell me. I won't run screaming."
"You're right," she admitted. "I'm stalling. I'll just tell you 3; but you keep doing what you are doing." Harry was eating far more enthusiastically than men normally did when confronted with her genitals. She felt some hope and that gave her strength.
"The brooms are cursed, as I said," she began. "A sorceress gave them to me just after I opened the Three Broomsticks. She never said why she gave me the gift, but now I know she was a follower of He Who Must Not Be Named, and her gift was a cruel joke on me. She told me that the broomsticks would work hard to keep the pub clean every night after closing, but at midnight on a full moon they would clean more thoroughly 3; a monthly cleaning."
Harry kept licking, but he noticed that she was not as wet. Her body was reacting to the memory, and it wasn't a pleasant memory. "A monthly cleaning 3; on a full moon like tonite?" he asked. He changed his technique to go from attempting to arouse her to attempting to show acceptance of her.
"Exactly. The sorceress said that after the cleaning the broomsticks would require payment. 'Only once a month and a woman like me could pay easily,' she said. I should have not taken the gift without learning what the payment would be, but I was young and idealistic. Besides, I needed the help in running the pub.
"The first full moon, I didn't know what to expect. I thought they would talk or something. I watched them clean the place spotless, getting more and more nervous. Finally, they seemed to stop at once and turned to me. Their motions seemed to become sinister."
Harry saw that she was struggling with the memory. He slid up to hold her, and found that she was shaking. "Go on 3; I'm listening," he said gently.
"The also became 3; cocks. They became hopping cocks. Their bristles became balls, and the broomsticks became their cock shafts. And they came after me. They 3; they raped me. Over and over and over, until they had each cum in my three holes. Then they went back and just got up on the wall and became brooms again."
Harry was horrified. "What did you do?" he asked, aware that the question was inane.
"When I got up the next day, I went to the chemist and got some ointment that made most of the pain go away. Then I sent an owl to the sorceress, asking her to take the brooms back. Her response was that it was my punishment for being a goody-goody girl, and that I would be paying the brooms every full moon until the curse was broken. If I didn't 3; well, she pointed out that the brooms liked boys best, and that there were plenty of boys at Hogwarts." Rosie was limp, her body displaying the helplessness she must have felt these many years.
"Oh my God!" Harry exclaimed. His revulsion was extreme, and his hatred of the memory of Lord Voldemort and his minions grew. At the same time, he felt terribly for Rosie, and the years of abuse she had suffered. "How is the curse broken?" he asked.
Rosie turned to look him straight in the eyes. "The sorceress said the brooms are actually gay spirits, and that they will not rest until they have filled the holes of a straight man. A man who is doing this not for pleasure but as a sacrifice for me." She let this sink in, staring at Harry for his reaction.
Harry thought for a long time, listening to the muted whumps downstairs as the brooms continued to clean. He thought about the years of monthly rapes Rosie had endured. He decided it would be far less effort for him to stop the rapes than to imagine them going on if he didn't try. Every full moon he would think of Rosie and know he had allowed her suffering to continue.
"I'll do it," he said, making up his mind.
Rosie burst into tears. "You will?!" she cried out. "But they sorceress may have lied!"
"We'll take the chance," Harry said.
Almost on cue, Harry heard a soft whump as if a heavy-footed child was climbing the stairs. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he would soon be facing down a fear very different from the ones he routinely met. He looked at Rosie, and she nodded.
"That’s them," she said. "I had hoped we would have more time to prepare for 3; for 3;. it." She went to her nightstand, where she pulled out a coffee-can-sized jar. "This is some of the special butter from the Butterbeer," she explained. "It will be a lubricant. It should help." The brooms had reached the top step and had begun to whack against the door. "Hurry and get naked so I can apply some."
Feeling increasing fear, Harry pulled his robe over his head to be naked in front of Rosie. She told him to get on all fours, and he did. "Spread your cheeks 3; wider," she said. Harry was embarrassed as she began to rub the butter onto his opening while his cheek was resting without support on the floor. He felt like a slut, he realized. "Relax," she suggested, "You need to relax". Harry knew this intellectually, but found it hard under the circumstances. He exhaled, and felt her fingers sliding slowly into his opening.
The knocks grew more insistent, then suddenly stopped as Rosie got a second finger in. She extricated her fingers and sprang to her feet. "Wait!" she called as she flung the door open. The brooms were nearly at the landing, going to find some other prey. They turned and came back up stairs.
Harry saw them in the doorway. They seemed to flex in his direction. Rosie apparently understood them, for she said, "Yes, this is the man who will break the curse over you. He has agreed to service you, although he wishes he didn’t."
They hopped to Harry, and his flesh crawled as the smooth broomsticks rubbed over his body, occasionally prodding him. Then they moved back beside Rosie, and began to transform.
The transformation would have been fascinating had it not represented evil intent. The broomsticks became cocks while maintaining their relative size. The whisk broom was a dick of small size, both in length and girth. It was smooth with smooth shaven balls. The medium stick morphed into a medium large cock, with heavy balls and deep veins. The largest broomstick became a large black cock, both long and fat with heavy balls and pencil-diameter veins. Harry stared at it, trying to imagine it fitting inside him, and shivered. It would be cruel use he endured.
Rosie went to Harry and helped him to his feet. She led him onto the bed, and onto his back. His head was off the end, dangling. It was a porn star’s position.
Without delay, the brooms leapt into action. The whiskbroom tapped at his cheeks, and Rosie murmured "open your mouth so it can go inside". Harry did, and the little dick slid into his cavity. "Suck on it," Rosie instructed. "Like this," she said when Harry didn’t quite get it. She leaned down and took his flaccid dick in her mouth. She sucked at him, using her lips and throat to maintain suction. This Harry did as well, and the little whiskbroom began to slowly pump his mouth.
He felt the other cocks jump onto the bed, and lay on his hands. "Jack them off," Rosie suggested. "The closer they are to orgasm the shorter you’ll have to blow them." It made sense, so Harry began masturbating them.
It was like this for some time, since Harry was very amateurish in his fellatio. Rosie tried to help, urging him to suck on it harder. He began to taste a bitter flavor, and realized the broom was emitting a sappy precum. Trying to place it, he thought about the flavor and guessed at the wood type.
After maybe fifteen minutes, Harry felt the broomstick swell a little and steeled his nerves. A thick blast of gooey sap squirted out of the broomstick, clinging to the inside of his mouth. The taste was awful, like eating pitch, and it clung to the inside of his mouth like a glue. Harry had decided he liked eating human cum, or at least his own, but this was just nasty. He swallowed it down, feeling about as low as a person can.
Harry didn’t have much time to waste on self-pity. The next "cock" was waiting. When the first withdrew, the medium-sized one jammed itself into his open mouth. Some of the earlier "cum" was jammed into the back of Harry’s mouth as the cock tried to cram itself in.
"Now that you have a free hand, use it to stroke this one too," Rosie suggested. "It’ll keep it from going too deep." Harry made an ‘o’ out of his fingers, and circled the shaft. As the cock fucked his mouth, he was able to stroke at it. Rosie was right, he thought, in that his hand stopped it from going too deep.
Harry decided the thing to do was to try to be as good a cocksucker as possible. He would make it cum fast, since it was going to cum anyways. That would make the ordeal as short as possible. With that in mind, Harry tried all the tricks he had enjoyed having done to himself. His tongue and lips became active, seeking the explosion that would bring on the last cock.
Two things broke Harry’s concentration. Firstly, the large ebony broomstick started seeping sticky sap onto his hand. Secondly, he felt something nudging at his legs. He couldn’t look, but he knew it was the whiskbroom positioning itself for an assault on his rectum.
"Harry, lift your legs," Rosie said. He did, and felt her smearing on more butter. Her hand was knocked away and the littlest broom pressed against his opening. "I’ll try to coat it too," Rosie said. She spread butter over her hands and then wiped them on the broomstick.
Harry then felt her gripping his ankles and pulling his legs over his stomach, spread far apart. Then, he let out a pained whimper as the broom shoved hard against his closed butthole. This made him forget the cock in his mouth, which then pushed in deep as well. Harry was lost for a minute, not knowing what to concentrate on as the medium cock sought to push into his throat and the little one entered him. He felt totally ashamed that he was able to deepthroat the stick, which had gotten past his gag reflex and was fucking his mouth. He felt even more shame when he felt the little cock’s shaved balls pressing against his asscheeks.
Rosie, though, was ashamed to realize she was totally turned on. Here a man was sacrificing his sexuality for her, and she loved it. Harry was being a girl, fucked hard at both ends 3; and he was hard as a rock. When the second cock exploded, she saw the sap oozing out of the corner of his mouth, and a long strand from the peehole to his mouth was made as it withdrew.
When the large ebony cock thumped over, she thought she would faint. Harry looked at her, and saw her fingering her clit as she watched. But only for a moment, because the big black dick was going in. She saw that Harry’s mouth was open all the way, and than he was barely able to get it in. And then, the big dick just kept inching in, getting to the back of Harry’s mouth. With amazement, she saw the shape moving into his throat like a mouse in a snake.
Rosie was mesmerized as the thing fucked Harry’s mouth. She didn’t notice that the little one was done until she saw Harry’s legs drop. She went down and urged him to spread his legs as his mouth was forcibly pounded by long hard strokes. She took a big glob of butter and pressed it into Harry’s ass. He was leaking sap there too. She felt her pussy gush a little, and she let out a moan.
The medium cock was stiffening, but not yet hard when it entered Harry’s ass. Harry emitted a long low moan. The little dick had begun very painfully, but in a few minutes that pain had become something like pleasure. This cock’s entry stretched his opening, which hurt a little, but it also filled his ass, which felt really good. And the truth is that he was proud that he was able to accommodate the big dick fucking his mouth.
Rosie lost all pretence at decorum when Harry started moaning. She didn’t need to lift his ankles, because Harry was keeping them apart himself. With her hands freed, she stood in a corner and watched. Her fingers pulled back her clit cover and she rubbed her pleasure bud. She decided she wanted to see Harry with real men, and that thought sent her over the edge. She bit her knuckles to keep from crying out as she was wracked by a strong orgasm that sent rivlets of her juices rolling down her thighs.
She was still cumming a half minute later when the big ebony broomstick jerked and jammed, and then pulled out. It trailed a thick strand of sap, and she wobbled over and collected it with her index fingernail. Then she began to suck it into her mouth and followed it like a spaghetti noodle to Harry’s mouth. Harry and her kissed deeply, and she had a sappy snowball.
"Oh God, Harry," she panted, "I am so sorry to do this to you, but I am so grateful too."
"It’s... OK 3; Rosie," Harry grunted as the cock pounded deep into his ass over and over. He patted the bed, near the headboard. "Lay 3; over 3; there" he grimaced.
She did, not knowing his intentions. Harry rolled over onto his knees, and crawled to Rosie with the cock still humping him. Harry spread Rosie’s legs and began to eat her. In this new position, he could feel the balls smacking into his own, a sticky and nasty sensation. Harry buried his tongue between the folds of her pussy lips, licking out her sap-like wetness.
Harry found this new position highly pleasurable. He loved eating pussy, and found that it was very stimulating to be fucked while doing it. When the medium cock came deep in his ass, he loved the hot and wet feeling he got. He even liked the nasty dripping he felt on his nuts when it pulled out. After that, it was almost like normal sex, a man eating a woman, and both loving it.
Harry was reminded of his former virgin status though, when the last cock entered him. With his mouth not filled, he cried out in pain. His asshole felt like it was tearing, and he cried out "FUCK" over and over as it inched in. He felt every thick vein as it pressed in without remorse.
Rosie gripped his hair and pulled his mouth into her crotch. She ground hard against his moaning mouth until he was quiet. She saw that the ebony member was pulling out, and noted that Harry was again tonguing her sloppy wet pussy.
"Roll over baby," she said, and she helped Harry twist onto his back. The cock pulled all the way out as he rolled, then pressed quickly in again. Harry arched his back in pain and pleasure. Rosie noted that his nipples were hard, as was his cock, as she mounted his face.
Harry endured the strain of being stretched, and the odd feeling of fullness and emptiness as he was fucked. Soon, he decided he loved it, especially with Rosie’s large genitals filling his view. She was sliding her pussy back and forth over his face, and he loved it.
Rosie leaned forward and pressed Harry’s thighs down to his stomach. This let the ebony broomstick get maximum penetration. She watched, seeing clearly for the first time the technique it employed, and the aftermath. This one like to fuck hard and fast, and then pull all the way out. She saw how wide open his ass was, the pink flesh inside visible. Then the monster would press its head in and push in quickly with a full stroke. It was damn sexy to watch.
She saw a big puddle of precum on Harry’s stomach, and she knew he must be close. She pulled his steel-hard cock back through his thighs with difficulty, then took him into her mouth. She gave him all the pleasure she could in partial payment for the gift he was giving her.
She saw the broom was buried deep, and that its balls were moving. She correctly guessed that it was finally cumming in Harry. Without warning, Harry began filling her mouth with his cum, and she held as much as she could in her mouth. When the dick pulled out, she saw he was filled with sap. She’d clean that later, but first she snowballed Harry.
Their kisses were long and deep, trading his cum back and forth. She finally stopped, and licked her juices from his face.
"Look!" Harry exclaimed. She turned to see the three dildos had turned back to broomsticks, and somehow no longer radiated malevolence as they trooped out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
"Thank you," she murmured, kissing him again and again. "The nightmare is over."
"It was hard," he admitted. "But 3; I am wondering if I’ll ever experience anal sex again. It was 3;. Interesting," he allowed.
"Mmmmm, I don’t know," she smiled. "Roll over," she said, "I need to clean you up." Harry rolled back onto his stomach, and was surprised to find her licking the sap from his ass. He was even more surprised at how long she did it, and how late he got home.