The following article is a work of pure fiction and silliness. Any resemblance to real people or fictional characters is a happy accident. Any similarity between these made-up kids and their actions, and the wonderful characters created by J. K. Rowling is simply another coincidence. No implication as to the sexuality of any fictional characters, or actors who portray those characters, is intended.
Ron's Turn
Having masturbated twice before going to sleep, Ron made it through the whole night without a wet dream. He was clean and dry in the morning, with a nice solid erection. He was so proud of himself, that he felt he deserved a reward. Consequently, he rolled onto his stomach, pulled the pillow under his chest, and proceeded to huff and puff and pump his erection into the mattress. It felt so much better to be doing it this way, than to have an orgasm in his sleep. Life was good. He decided doing it twice at night would have to be the answer to his problems.
Harry heard Ron going at it, so he turned to his stomach, pulled his own pillow under his chest and pumped into the bed just as Ron was doing. He didn't have the advantage of Ron's massive size, and something was not quite right. He adjusted the pillow a little lower, so that his penis slid between the pillow and the bed. That seemed better.
Neville, having learned from Harry the previous night what those sounds meant, thought he'd try it that way himself. He arranged himself and his pillow and started pushing his little stiffie into the bed. It didn't really do much for him, and he could see this method going nowhere fast. He soon rolled over on his back and rubbed himself, coming twice before the other boys finished. He heard Ron say "Immaculata," the spell he used to clean up the goo, and Harry breath a sigh of relief as he also reached his climax.
All three boys were suitably refreshed and ready to start the day. They had a sumptuous breakfast of sausages and eggs, sweet rolls and bacon, and a tall glass of orange juice. The conversation at the table turned to Quidditch, for the practice season was nearly finished and it would be time for serious competition. Fred and George were discussing how to organize a betting pool. Hermione rolled her eyes at that idea, and muttered something about making better use of their intelligence.
Quidditch practice was rougher and harder than usual, putting a strain on every team member. It's as though they made all the mistakes they had been trying to unlearn, and everybody felt down about it. When it was over, Professor McGonagall didn't heap on the praise, that's for sure, but she did end up encouraging them by saying that the best sign of a successful performance is a bad dress rehearsal. She expected them to shine at the first game of the season. She let all the boys go except Ron and Harry. She had some particularly useful advice for the pair, which it took her a good ten minutes to deliver. The boys always thought they could learn anything from her, so effective was her way of getting it across. Finally She let Harry and Ron go, and sent them off to the locker room and showers.
The last of their teammates was leaving just as they entered the locker room. Harry and Ron had the place to themselves. Their lockers were right next to each other. As they proceeded to undress, they talked animatedly about the practice session and the suggestions that Professor McGonagall had given them. They liked her coaching methods; she could come across fierce and kindly all at the same time.
Harry couldn't resist a peek at Ron when he had his clothes off. He had seen him naked so many times there was no surprise, but he did have to admire the bushy red hair and uncut penis, that seemed like it must be full-grown. He felt a pang of envy. Ron's thing was fairly thick, and hung down a variable four or five inches. Harry couldn't quite picture what it would look like fully stiffened up.
Harry was cut; the muggles had done that to him. When soft, which it was now, it varied between two to two and a half inches, but over three and a half when it was up. He had just measured it the day before, and was anxious to confirm that it had finally started to lengthen. He better stop thinking about pecker sizes, he thought, or it will be standing up right here and now.
They grabbed their towels, and walked naked and nonchalant, to the showers. The eight shower stalls were in two rows, each equipped with a towel-hook on the outside, and a black curtain for privacy. Harry went to the last stall on the left, while Ron selected the second-last one on the right. Both boys hung up their towels and drew their curtains closed. Ron made the edge of his curtain wet, and pressed it against the tiles to seal it shut. He doused himself all over with water, then stood with his back to the shower. He took a handful of liquid soap, and began the showering process by working up a rich lather in his bush of red pubic hair. This caused his man-sized cock to swell and reach its full dimensions almost immediately. He stroked its length lovingly, not wanting to rush things. He closed his eyes and languished in the cascading water.
Harry stepped under the stream of hot water, his body still supercharged with energy from the practice. He soon found himself sexually aroused. Placing his palms on either side of his penis as it expanded and stiffened, he rolled it rapidly and lightly, stimulating its entire length. The technique had the desired effect, and within fifteen or twenty seconds, Harry curled his toes against the tile floor, braced his knees, pushed his pelvis forward, and had a good solid, fantasy free orgasm. He breathed deeply, taking in some much-needed oxygen, and relaxed, the post-climactic hormones soothing his aching muscles. He finished bathing, shampooed his unruly black hair, and quickly attended to the rest of his body, arms and trunk, legs and feet. He rinsed off. Shook his hair, and stepped out of the shower.
Ron's curtain had partially separated from the wall, and Harry could see Ron massaging his erection. Harry became instantly and utterly powerless. He lost control over his actions. Quick as a flash, all in one motion, he entered Ron's shower, closed the curtain, and dropped to his knees and took Ron's penis into his mouth. "Aaah!" Ron yelled as he was startled, and tried to push Harry away. Harry, however, had placed his hands behind Ron's ass-cheeks and held on, making escape impossible. Ron was soon overcome by the physical sensations coming from his pecker, and stopped resisting Harry.
Harry was astounded at the size of Ron's manhood. It was an honest eight inches long, and over two inches in diameter. The foreskin was completely retracted in this erect state. It was absolutely straight, and stood out from Ron's body at a slight ascending angle.
Ron stood there, succumbing to Harry's expert attention. His vision got blurry, and he couldn't hear the water splashing any more. One by one, his muscles tensed, and as they did, each one produced its own wave of electric pleasure. Waves traveled from his thighs, lower legs and feet up to his groin; even his toes tingled as they gripped the floor. His belly muscles tensed and rippled with pleasure; his arms tightened, and his facial muscles contorted as his sexual energy rose up inside him with volcanic force. His jaw was open in a silent scream.
Harry felt Ron's orgasmic feelings starting to ignite, and slowed his actions in order to prolong the approach phase as much as possible. Then it happened. Boom, boom, boom. The ultimate wave of pleasure flew through Ron's body and discharged itself through his powerful penis as his pelvis jutted forward. His salty honey filled Harry's mouth. Harry knew it was coming, and relaxed his throat, automatically swallowing the bulk of Ron's load. He kept the final shots in his mouth, wanting to taste it. Still trying to comprehend the size of Ron's penis, he very gently pulled away and left Ron standing there, fully erect and barely aware of his surroundings.
Ron was in a daze. Leaving the water running, he made his way out of the shower stall, took his towel from the hook just outside, and half-walked, half-staggered back to the locker room, his pecker still standing up straight, with a wreath of red hair at its root. He could barely see. He sat on the bench in front of his locker and slowly came to his senses.
Harry was nearly in a daze himself. If he had been turned on by feeling Neville's orgasms the day before, he was totally swept away with passion at what he just experienced. His emotional and physical arousal was far more than he had expected it to be, and it made him behave as though he was on a kind of automatic pilot. Here he was in Ron's place, standing under Ron's shower with the water to his back. He spat the remainder of Ron's semen into his hand and lubricated his erection with it. He began to stroke it the way he saw Ron doing, closed his eyes, and let his imagination make him believe he was Ron himself. In his mind's eye, he saw "Harry" enter, drop to his knees and take him into his mouth. He changed his grip, using both hands. He forced his sensations to mimic those of Ron's, and copy the muscular tension and energy buildups. He imagined he also had an eight-inch penis, and culminated in an explosive pulsing orgasm just as Ron had, far more powerful that the one he had just a short while before. - Whew.
He gradually settled down, and as he came to his senses, was horrified. He thought "What have I done? Ron is my best friend, and I'm sure he isn't gay; what do you suppose he thought? What was I thinking? Nothing, that's for sure. I hope he will ever speak to me again." Harry grew really morose and fearful as he rinsed off, and exited the shower. He was afraid he had done something terrible to their friendship. He found Ron in the locker room, just finishing getting dressed. They didn't speak. Harry dried off rapidly, pulled on his clothes, and they left the building together.
The silence on the walk back to the main part of the school seemed to make it take forever. Finally, Ron spoke first.
"Harry," he said, and the boys stopped walking and looked each other in the eye. Harry kept his face as neutral as possible, so as not to show Ron how sheepish he felt. He thought "Oh, no - here it comes," thinking the worst. Ron looked at Harry, gave that little nervous swallow he does when he's thinking about spiders, and spoke just one word.
"Thanks," he said.
I love to hear from my readers. I'm working on chapters five and six. Five is putting up a struggle, but six is nearly ready (It's Draco Malfoy's day! He discovers something about himself.) A reader gave me the idea. I need encouragement if you want to see them. kr0nikles@yahoo.com