Sex? At Hogwarts?
Introduction
The Harry Potter stories are great. Really. Ms.J.K.R. did an admirable job of conveying the accounts of the young wizard's seven-year battle against the dark magician. The stories are both exciting and, for the most part, accurate -- I know. (How, you ask? I have my sources, as you'll soon discover.) In addition to the main thread, which of course is the boy's overcoming the megalomaniac Tom Riddle, she also deftly traces his psychological development from preadolescent to near-adult. She traces it in every way, that is, but one.
And what is that one, you may wonder? It is the one thing that romance-addled teenage girls usually prefer not to think about when they contemplate the boys they swoon over. The one thing that proper British ladies, even modern ones, don't talk about because, well, it just won't do. It's the thing you, dear reader, are reading these pages for. Sex. The one thing that is so obviously missing from the Harry Potter stories. (It was English playwrights, after all, who wrote the farce called, "No Sex Please, We're British.")
It's all very well to describe Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Cho Chang, Luna Lovegood and the other 136 or so witches-in-training at Hogwarts school in strictly non-sexual terms. If lady authors want to pretend that adolescent girls aren't sexual creatures, who are readers of a boylove story to argue? But teenage boys are a different matter altogether. If we are to take seriously the description of the maturation of a passionate, vital boy like Harry, along with that of his loyal buddy Ron, we must find in these stories some reference to their erotic development. In fact, we would feel quite at home with much more than the occasional reference. There is little that is more central to an adolescent male's identity -- whether he be wizard or muggle -- than his relationship with his penis, and so these boys' sexual lives deserve a prominent place in their tale, if it is to be at all accurate.
But instead, all we who are interested in these boys from an erotic standpoint encounter is a lame characterization that seems to suggest that boys are just like girls in their relationship to their own erotic attractions, only more incompetent: awkwardly stumbling over their own feet and tongue-tied in the presence of the supposedly fairer sex, apparently utterly blindsided by unfamiliar feelings of romantic infatuation. And it goes without saying that their sexuality, if referenced at all, is implied only in the context of their emotional feelings. No masturbation. No brain-searing sexual fantasies. No delicious porn. And, heaven forbid, no hint of sexual feelings for -- gasp -- other boys. Though these things are all important parts of nearly every boy's teenage life, none of these realities are part of how women like to see boys. We boylovers, of course, know better.
Fortunately for boy-loving Potter fans out there, there is hope, and I humbly offer it to you. Over the course of more years than I care to count, spending such time as I am embarrassed to admit spending, I have uncovered much of the truth about Harry Potter and sex. And the plain fact is Harry was, from his earliest months at Hogwarts, a very sexy boy indeed. (And not only Harry Potter -- several of his more precocious fellow wizards and witches were as well!)
And how have I managed to discover all this, you might well ask. First, I have secured confidential eyewitness accounts of several of his Hogwarts peers, including two who were actually physically -- and I daresay emotionally -- involved with the boy wizard. Although I have been sworn to secrecy by both of these two, I daresay the descriptions of their liaisons with Harry will be sufficient to suggest to even the casual reader their identities.
I have also had several at times frustrating but ultimately very productive interviews with two Hogwarts ghosts who, though in their disembodied states unable to enjoy the physicality of sex, seemed to quite enjoy being voyeurs, living vicariously through the sex lives of the young and randy. Although in Ms. JKR's telling the Hogwarts ghosts often seemed to be quite visible and noisy, I have discovered they all seemed to be able to be quite silent and observant when they chose, each of them knowing all manner of corners to hide in and pieces of furniture to sequester themselves behind in order to spy on unsuspecting young witches and wizards.
Furthermore, I have obtained sole possession of a very well written collection of stories in diary form, stories which I would have assumed were just porn and fantasy except for the presence of a few details which reveal that, unmistakably, these are true-life accounts. I believe readers will enjoy these in particular, since they are recounted here without editing, in the exact form in which they were written.
Finally, I'm pleased to say I am the frequent correspondent and occasional confidant of one Horace Pratt, one of several professors at Hogwarts school whose existence was, for one reason or another, not mentioned by Harry's chronicler. The professor, as a skilled practitioner of legilmency as well as a devoted boylover, was able on several occasions to enter young Harry's mind during various sexual escapades, thus not only observing the boy's actions but feeling his erotic passions.
From these sources I have been able to amass quite a collection of incidents I think most boyloving readers should find rather interesting.
Speaking of Professor Pratt -- "other professors?" you may ask. Surely it must have occurred to thoughtful readers of the Potter books to wonder how, despite receiving an education that was apparently 100 percent magical, Harry, Hermione and Ron had managed to learn to write competently and decipher magical texts written in often idiosyncratic language. Readers may also have wondered how Harry, despite apparently spending his schooldays doing little but attending class, studying, and engaging in the occasional brief, near-death experience with Riddle, was so physically fit, so strong and agile, that he could be the best quidditch player in the school from the tender age of 13. Did no reader consider the possibility that, in addition to classes in Transfiguration and Charms, Potions and Defense against the Dark Arts, Hogwarts students may also have been required to study grammar and composition and receive physical fitness training?
Such prosaic curricula may have occurred to Ms. JKR to have no useful place in the accounts with which she favored us. Fair enough -- she is our chronicler, and she has every right to make such choices. But I am here to tell you that there were other things Harry and his comrades studied at Hogwarts. They received several years of instruction in language arts, included critical reading and analysis and advanced grammar and composition. They studied the physical sciences and world geography. They were made to sit for a year through a brain-twisting class called Logical and Moral Reasoning for the Magically-inclined. And they received regular physical conditioning that, by the time they were fourth-year students, had really become quite arduous.
And they took one other series of classes, which began in their second years and continued through the third, went on hiatus for two years and returned with what I am assured was inevitably a spectacular -- one might almost say climactic -- conclusion in year six. It was this class that the aforementioned Horace Pratt taught. This class was called Sex Magic. And Professor Pratt will be one of our most valuable chroniclers as we learn of the secret sex lives and sexual powers of Harry and his friends.
As the recipient -- one might even say, the curator -- of the accounts of the sexual goings on at Hogwarts I have had decisions to make about what and how to present these interesting accounts. Many of these accounts involve Harry but some do not. Some are homosexual in their slant, other are resolutely heterosexual. Some allow us into the mind and emotions young Hogwarts wizards and witches were experiencing, while others are told strictly from a third-person perspective. What I have elected to do is to take several of the most erotically entertaining ones and arrange them in chronological order, including at least one from each of Harry's six years at Hogwarts, as well as some from what would have been his final year had not the great battle of Hogwarts interfered. I have also taken the liberty of making what I view as improvements in terms of writing style, since some accounts I received were quite long-winded and discursive, others so brief as to lack all of the erotic interest which most readers find entertaining.
Accordingly, we begin our exploration of the sexuality of Harry Potter and his fellow wizards and witches with an account of an event that occurred just a few months into the boy's first year at Hogwarts.
Chapter 1
Despite the fact that he stood in front of a full-length mirror, 11-year-old Harry Potter stared down at his naked body instead. He was looking at his cock.
As you, the reader, imagine this scene, it might be best, in the interest of accuracy, to get a mental picture of this young wizard's appearance. You may be imagining a young D.R., seeing in your mind's eye the actor who dutifully portrayed Harry in the various films made based on the books about the young wizard's life. Admittedly, there are certain similarities. The rather pointed nose, although Harry's is a bit longer. The straight dark hair. Thin, unusually red lips. The round-lens glasses, of course. But in reality the actor actually looked very different from the real wizard. For one thing, the real Harry's overall look was different; the boy was neither cute, as the young D.C. was, and as Harry grew older he never was what one would call handsome. But I can say without fear of contradiction that he was very, very sexy, even at the tender age of eleven.
What struck me, and I suspect most people who saw him for the first time, was his bone structure. Prominent cheekbones, cheeks a bit sucked in, and an elegant jawline that would have been the envy of many a fashion model, made for a striking appearance. His mouth was wide and generous, and his lips had a curve that suggested sensuality. Throughout his time at Hogwarts he always wore his hair on the long side, and it became longer the older he was. He was always sensitive about --and actually irritated by -- others' constant preoccupation with his famous forehead scar, so he would never have considered any short hairstyle. In any case, during his time at school, the particular fashion among young wizards was to affect a style that seemed to suggest a sort of carelessness, almost a wildness, about one's dress, grooming and appearance in general. Even as a first-year Harry's hair partly covered his small ears and crept down over his collar.
Then there were those green eyes. They were not the striking light apple green eyes that one sometimes encounters in ginger boys. Moreover, the glasses seemed to hide them a bit. But up close -- and certainly on the occasions when he would remove his glasses for a moment -- one noticed their unusual deep forest green. They were accentuated by long lashes and thick, dark brows. His were eyes you could get lost in.
Altogether Harry's was a dramatic appearance, and one imagines a boy with such a sexy appearance would quickly discover that others find him attractive, and perhaps gain a self-confidence, even a conceitedness about himself. Nothing could have been further from the fact in Harry's case. Throughout his time at Hogwarts, throughout the time period covered so admirably in Ms. JKR's books, he seemed not only unaware of but uninterested in being seen as attractive. Indeed, he did not seem to show much interest in how others saw him at all. Once he became focused on his struggle with Voldemort that struggle seemed to consume virtually all his attention and energies. It was almost as if he had no time for such things as attractiveness. Which of course merely added enormously to his attractiveness, which seemed to increase with every passing year.
As I write this it occurs to me that perhaps there are a few readers-- perhaps more than just a few -- who, having read the words "looking at his cock" a few moments ago, find themselves less interested in Harry's face and his attitudes about his appearance than they are in the parts one finds below the neck. All I can say is that I must beg the reader's forgiveness for my rather discursive way of telling a story -- I have tried and failed to heed the advice of several well-intentioned friends to write more concisely. All I can hope is that, by exercising a little patience, the reader will find his time well spent in these pages.
Let us return in our minds' eyes to first-year Harry Potter as he stands naked in front of the mirror in his dorm room, contemplating his body. The boy's body is immature, perhaps a bit small for age 11 1/2, but mostly well-proportioned. Though his childish chest is flat and shapeless and his arms thin, he has rather wide shoulders, a short, trim waist, and a small, pert ass. I say his body is well-proportioned -- mostly -- because there is one part that is not in proportion at all, and that part in fact stands out starkly in its disproportionate size. The young boy wizard has, by anyone's reckoning, a very large cock for his age.
It is a well-known fact that wizards tend to have, as a matter of course, larger cocks than muggle men. Moreover, their genital development is known to begin early; boy wizards begin puberty not according to unpredictable hormonal dictates but in response to acquisition of magical skills. Thus, the first stirrings of puberty among Hogwarts boys occur during the first weeks of their first years at the school, along with their first fumbling proficiency at the magical arts. Boys as young as 11 begin getting regular erections and by age 12 usually manifest every sign of feeling strong sexual urges, even though they generally don't yet have much of an idea of what to do about them. Their cocks, large by muggle standards even in childhood, begin growing.
By the time they are second-years at age 12 and 13, almost all boy wizards enjoy sex play of increasing enthusiasm and skill with their age mates, their penises and testicles at that point as large or larger than those of most mature muggle men, their little bodies pumping out increasingly copious amounts of the particularly aromatic semen that so distinguishes wizard cum from that of all other male creatures.
By their third years Hogwarts boys have been trained by their ever-assiduous teacher in all manner of sexual skills. For example, by age 14 Hogwarts boys have long since mastered the ability to control their penises; Professor Pratt says he never taught a third-year so unskilled that he could not produce an erection with a quick charm and three or four seconds of concentration, cause it to wilt almost as quickly, and, upon beginning to climax, pause and then resume his ejaculations at will, thereby extending his orgasms over twenty seconds or more. Of course by the time they are sixth-years it is the rare boy wizard who cannot sustain a thirty to forty-five second climax.
As the boys' maturation continues throughout the seven years of their magical education their growth continues -- and this includes the growth of their genitals. Professor Pratt avers that, since he does teach seventh-years -- their formal Sex Magic education for which he is responsible climaxes at the end of their sixth years -- he does not have detailed firsthand knowledge of the genitals of large numbers 17 and 18 year old wizards. However, he assures us that one does have quite a number of spells and charms at one's disposal by which one may acquire what might be termed indirect knowledge of the bodies of naked seventh-years. And so he assures us without fear of contradiction that the average Hogwarts seventh-year has a penis that hangs approximately eight inches in length and erects to between 10 and 10 1/2. And over the years there are reputed to have been more than a few even larger, especially among boys with exceptional magical aptitudes.
Even at his young age, Harry was unusual. As he stared now at his organ it began swelling and rising. Although it seemed completely out of place on his little-boy's body, it was, like the rest of his body, trim and well-proportioned. Harry's skin was very pale, as that of English boys usually seems to be, and his flat, narrow belly was completely hairless right down to the base of his organ. His cock, however, was a dusky pink, a bit paler near the base, a bit darker as it neared the head. Initially the boy's glans was slightly narrower than the shaft, though partially covered with the pinkish-brown sheath of a small foreskin. But as Harry watched and it continued its slow rise, the meaty head seemed to swell dramatically. In another few seconds his cock stretched outward still farther, glans now fully emerged from the protection of its foreskin, straining forward now, beginning to take on an angry purple-red hue. After another twenty seconds or so his cockhead seemed almost to draw away from the shaft, the coronal ridge flaring away as if the glans somehow desired to separate itself entirely from the rest of the penis. A few seconds after that as the skin all along the big shaft began to be stretched tight by the swelling of the boy's meat, the upward movement of the bursting organ stopped, and the hard smooth column pointed straight ahead, as if reaching out urgently to its twin in the mirror.
Harry reached over to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and drew out a ruler. He placed one end of the ruler where his cock emerged from his body, then slowly and carefully lay the wood along the top of his swollen meat. He curled his fingers gently around the end of his shaft and squeezed it against the ruler, peering closely to mark the exact spot where the very last quarter-inch ended. As he squeezed, the brilliantly pinkish red meatus yawned open, as if ready to expel precious fluid. Yes, his organ was even bigger now. It had grown even more since last time. Seven inches and -- was it three-eighths? No, seven-sixteenths of an inch more. Harry tossed the ruler back onto the desk. As he did so he heard a small noise from the bed nearest to his own, where Ron had been softly snoring just moments before.
Harry quickly scrambled back to his own bed so Ron would not discover what he had been up to, but he was not quite quick enough. Just as he reached for the curtain of his four-poster he saw Ron's sleepy head emerge from behind his own curtain. Harry froze as he saw Ron's eyes go at once to his furiously erect cock.
"Blimey, Harry!" Ron exclaimed,
Harry threw back the curtain of his bed, jumped into bed and quickly drew the covers over himself.
He and Ron stared silently, awkwardly at each other.
"What?" Harry finally snapped.
"You've -- your . . . your willie's blinkin' huge!" Ron finally blurted.
"It's not!" replied Harry, who felt like an idiot as soon as he said it.
Ron continued to stare, slightly openmouthed.
"Don't worry about it," Harry finally managed to say, turning his back on Ron as if intending to go back to sleep.
There was a silent moment.
"Has it . . . I mean, did it used to be, like, regular sized?" Ron finally persisted.
Harry turned and glared.
"What are you talking about? Regular sized! I don't know! What do you care about my willie, anyway!"
"I don't . . . care about it, I was just, you know, wondering . . ."
"Well, quit wondering!" Hoping that would end the awkward conversation, Harry ostentatiously fluffed his pillow and began feigning sleep.
"What are you blokes on about?" came another voice. Dean Thomas' curly head poked out from between his curtains.
"Have you seen Harry's willie? It's blinkin' gi-normous!" Ron blurted.
"Yeah?" Dean replied with a crooked grin. "Is it gi-normous, Harry?"
Harry was silent and motionless, hoping his mates would shut up about his willie. In fact Harry didn't know for certain that his willie was anything special, but lately he had begun to suspect that perhaps it was rather large. He had measured it several times, feeling a bit anxious somehow. As he lay there in silence he began to wonder if maybe what Ron said was really true. He had never actually seen another willie than his own before.
"Come on, Harry, let's see it!" cried Dean finally. "I've never seen a real big one before!"
"Yeah Potter, are you shy?" came a fourth voice, sounding just a bit derisive. Seamus Finnegan was now awake too.
Harry quickly sat up and turned round, bedcovers securely tucked around him. "Why are you all so keen on looking at it? You've all got willies of your own! I think!" This last betrayed Harry's irritation.
"Come on Harry, nobody means anything bad or anything," soothed Ron. "We're just, you know, curious. I mean, it's normal to be curious, right?"
"All right, fine," snapped Harry, quickly sitting up on the edge of his bed, his bedclothes still in his lap. "But if I'm gonna get naked you all will too. I'm not gonna be the only bloody fool sitting here with his willie out!"
Harry frowned ferociously at the others, but in truth he was pretending to be more outraged than he felt. He was actually kind of curious to see how he measured up.
"No, that's all right, forget it," mumbled Ron. "I gotta use the loo anyway."
With that Ron slid out of bed and made his way quickly to the adjoining bathroom.
The others watched him go silently.
"Well that was a bit weird," muttered Seamus.
"Maybe he's the shy one," commented Dean. "Anyway . . . "
With that Dean stood next to his bed, undid the cotton cord on his pyjamas, let them fall to his ankles, and pulled up the hem of his pyjama top.
"There you go, Harry! Check it out!" he exclaimed proudly.
Jutting up from Dean's exposed groin was a sturdy erect penis of perhaps 4 1/2 inches curving eagerly up from a tiny fringe of soft black curls.
"Wow, you're hard!" Seamus exclaimed rather unnecessarily.
"Well, that's genius!" Dean chortled. "I s'pose that never happens to you!"
"Well, not around my mates, it doesn't," replied Seamus tartly.
"Oh yeah, I s'pose it only happens when you're with all your girlfriends you're snogging! There are soooo many of them!"
"Bugger off, Dean!" Seamus replied, looking annoyed. He turned to Harry. "So you're not the only one now. Let's see this monster!"
"You too!" Dean demanded.
"You gits can't wait to feast your eyes on my knob, right?" jeered Seamus. "OK then."
With that Seamus shrugged out of his pyjama bottoms, tossing aside his pyjama top while he was at it. Four rather thick inches dangled from his narrow, hairless groin. Behind his cock were a pair of small but noticeably low-hanging balls. The boy gazed from one friend to the other, as if gauging their responses. Neither friend spoke.
Harry puffed out a deep breath, threw back the covers, slid off the bed and to his feet and, for the first time in his 11 1/2 years, exposed his naked body to other people. He held his breath as he saw his two friends stare, goggle-eyed, at his groin. A powerful urge to shield himself with his hands swept over him, but he was determined not to seem shy.
"Bloody hell!" muttered Dean.
"Blimey!" Seamus added, his mouth agape. "You sure you're only 11, Potter?"
At that moment the bathroom door opened and Ron came back into the room.
He looked around at his three naked roommates. He had an oddly uncomfortable look on his face. He headed quickly to his bed, almost as if he wanted to escape into its curtained privacy, but the others were having none of it.
"Come on, Weasley, you too!" cried Seamus.
"Yeah mate, you started this!" crowed Dean.
Ron stood stock still, a barely disguised look of terror on his face.
As annoyed as Harry had been that Ron had indeed started this whole thing, he felt a sudden surge of pity for his best friend, whom he could see felt stuck. For whatever reason Ron obviously did not want to take all his clothes off.
An inspiration hit.
"Ron, man, aren't you almost late for that early detention McGonagall gave you? She'll kill you if you're late again!"
To Ron's credit it took him only a split second to recognize the lifeline Harry was throwing him.
"You're right! Oh man!" With that Ron grabbed for his robe, threw it on right over his pyjamas, hurried into his shoes in record time, and was out the door without a backward glance.
The three boys who remained stood staring at each other. Harry couldn't help noticing that Seamus' willie had started to swell and lengthen. It was bright pink, and seemed to be pointing straight at him. There was a kind of tension in the room. It seemed as if something was going to happen.
"You guys got no pubes," Dean finally managed to croak . The tension of suppressed excitement was in his voice. The others said nothing.
"Can you all spunk up?" he gulped.
"I can," Seamus answered after a moment. "A bit."
"You ever, Harry?"
Harry didn't want to admit it. He didn't want his mates to know he was the only one who hadn't ever squirted. Who probably couldn't yet. The only one who was still a baby. But he wasn't going to lie. He hadn't been at Hogwarts long, but he knew one thing. Gryffindors didn't lie.
"Not yet," he admitted.
Dean nodded with a self-satisfied smile.
"You oughta see me! I shoot a whole lot."
"Yeah?" Seamus asked quietly. "Prove it!"
There was sudden electricity in the air. The boys looked silently at each other. Harry had to admit that he was excited. He had never seen anyone spunk up before. He wondered how it looked. He realized he didn't even know how you did it. Not really. He knew about wanking of course, everybody did. He had played around a bit with his erection, feeling its sponginess, fingering the vein that stood out along one side. But wanking so hard you could actually spunk up -- that was a way different thing.
His willie had gotten even harder. He wanted to give it a satisfying squeeze, but no way would he do that in front of his friends. No way would . . .
He was shocked to see Dean suddenly grab his own willie and begin slowly stroking it.
Dean's eyes were closed. "Oh yeah," he breathed.
Harry was paralyzed with surprise. Dean was wanking himself right in front of him and Seamus!
Seamus looked at Dean, then at Harry, then back at Dean. And then he began stroking his now-erect member too.
"Ah yeah," he muttered, imitating Dean.
After a moment he looked at Harry.
"Come on Potter, don't just stand there," he exclaimed with a little grin. "Feels good whether you spunk up or not!"
"No doubt," giggled Dean, stroking more vigorously. "I was wanking years before I could spunk up!"
Feeling he had no choice, Harry hesitantly grabbed his willie and began imitating his friends, watching exactly how Dean and Seamus handled their now-raging erections. He wondered why he was so ignorant about sex things compared to his friends. They weren't much older than he was. Maybe a few months -- Dean was already 12. But still -- what was the matter with him?
As the tingles of pleasure surged up his organ and through his body he sighed, closed his eyes, and tried to stop thinking. He began letting his hand work on its own up and down his long, rigid shaft.
Before long, he heard whispers in the room, and when he opened his eyes he was shocked to see Seamus and Dean standing right next to each other, and they were vigorously stroking each other's willies! Seamus' arm was around Dean's shoulders.
When the two boys saw Harry staring at them, frozen with surprise, they both began giggling.
"Good thing I'm a lefty!" chuckled Dean.
"Be a hard job otherwise, wouldn't it Potter?" crowed Seamus loudly, flailing away.
"Shhh!" Harry couldn't help but admonish, glancing over at Neville Longbottom's bed, while his hand resumed its stroking movement as if it had a mind of its own.
"Longbottom sleeps like a blinkin' rock, it'll take a lot more than that to bring him round," Seamus chortled, tossing his sandy hair out of his eyes and bearing down more strongly on Dean's reddened erection.
`Hey, you look lonely over there Harry -- come join us!" Dean smiled an encouraging smile.
If his little body hadn't been electrified by sexual excitement he might have hesitated, but as it was Harry wasted no time closing the distance between himself and his two aroused friends.
"OK, now what?"
Harry no longer cared how ignorant he seemed. His body had never felt so good in his life, and whatever was happening, Harry knew one thing. He wanted more of it.
"Here, I'll wank you with my other hand," offered Dean. "Come on, get closer, my arm's not that long!"
While it had been a wonderful feeling to stroke his own erection for the first time, it was a whole other thrill feeling another boy's fingers gripping his erection.
"Oh my God," he gasped, eyes closed, head thrown back in pleasure, as Dean began to stroke him.
"It's gettin' even huger!" Dean exclaimed before long. "And it's gettin' thicker too!"
Harry's arrow-straight organ was now so hard the tight-stretched skin was glossy pink, and Dean's loosely curled fist flew faster up and down its length.
Eyes closed, his mind lost in pleasure, Harry had begun to gently hunch his hips forward and back, his body beginning to move for the first time in his life to the timeless rhythms of the sexual dance. His hand gripped Dean's golden-brown, slightly sweaty shoulder for balance. His little butt clenched and released over and over.
"Uh, ummm, uh," Seamus muttered, eyes squeezed tight shut.
"Oh man. Mmmm," Dean gasped.
Harry opened his eyes and his gaze automatically went to his mates' cocks. They were certainly smaller than his own, Harry thought, as he stared as if hypnotized and the two raging pink erections, popping in and out of two gripping fists. Any yet they were -- nice. More than nice. They were something kind of -- exciting!
Seamus' willie had now taken on a purplish hue, and looked thicker than before; a small vein along one side appeared and disappeared as Dean quickly stroked it. Harry's mouth felt dry. He looked back and forth, unable to tear his staring gaze away from the fiery erections of his two friends, even as his body was enveloped in waves of pleasure. The opening of Dean's cock quickly snapped open and shut, open and shut, and Seamus' fingers flew up and down it like a blur. Seamus' cock seemed somehow dangerous, maybe a bit exciting, its thick head popping in and out of Dean's fist. But it was Dean's cock that held Harry's attention now. As he gazed down over Seamus's rapidly flailing wrist he stared at his mate's cock and wondered what it would be like to grab ahold of it, to squeeze it, to feel how hot it was, to--"
A sudden surge of pleasure unlike anything he had ever known quickly ripped through Harry's young body as Dean's rough knuckle found a new spot as it thrashed his meat.
"Aaaah!" Harry cried sharply, and suddenly the first dry orgasm of the boy wizard's young life blasted his small body.
"YAH!! AHH!! AHH!!"
Harry's hips snapped forward again and again as waves of pleasure assaulted his senses. His little butt clenched again and again and his orgasm had him up on his toes, his calves knotting, back arching, his head lolling backward.
Harry Potter's sexual initiation had begun.