Chapter 5
Author's Note:
The chapter that follows is an account Professor Pratt has sent to me, edited only slightly for brevity and to excise the occasional charming but perhaps non-essential off-topic ramble to which the professor is occasionally inclined. Even though it only involves wizard-on-witch sex I think it is particularly hot. (Of course, I tend to think anything involving Harry Potter is pretty hot!)
Readers may be forgiven for assuming that, based on previous chapters of this history, I am presenting to you a Harry Potter who was in fact a closet homosexual. Nothing could be further from the truth. Harry Potter was a highly passionate boy; while not naturally inclined to sexual nonconformity, he was also not particularly inclined to obedience to rules, whether those of his professors or those of society in general. The same urgent responsiveness to his instinctive loyalties that propelled him in his crusade to defeat Tom Riddle occasionally propelled him into several different kinds of sexual adventures with others.
Of course his obsessive seven-year mission was his overriding preoccupation throughout his adolescence, but the reader will I think come to see in these pages that this mission was not his focus every waking minute of every day. The counterpoint to his warrior's quest -- a quest requiring steely nerves, iron determination, and a disregard for the more tender feelings of the heart -- were moments of gentleness and occasionally even ecstasy, moments when he was able to forget all the stresses and frustrations, the terrors and losses of his arduous journey and lose himself for an hour here, a half hour there, in the arms of the god of love.
At this point an example is in order, and Professor Pratt provides us an excellent one. Let us return then to a moment in Harry's story when he and his little crush, Cho Chang, unexpectedly coincide in the owlery at Hogwarts. (Book 5, Chapter 14) You will recall that Harry had gone there to send a note to his godfather Sirius Black and Cho was sending a last-minute birthday greeting to her mother.
All Ms. JKR gives us of this chance meeting are the usual descriptions of Harry as a tongue-tied, blundering, lovestruck sap and of Cho as so shy and decorous she is never able to let Harry know how she feels about him. They engage in a bit of clumsy small talk, there's a moment when Harry is thrilled by a compliment she pays him, but before things can develop further the two are supposedly interrupted by the annoying castle caretaker Filch. They part soon thereafter. Their meeting, as described by Ms. JKR, ended as all their interactions seemed to end: frustrating, inconclusive, as two erotically charged young people, intensely attracted to each other, are never able to connect but, like willingly but incompetently captained ships, inevitably pass in the night.
The good professor tells us tell what really happened.
It is very understandable that you would ask me, how in the world do you have any idea what happened that morning, Professor Pratt? When two adolescents stumble upon each other in a secluded spot at the top floor of a castle, how do you presume got know what they may have gotten up to? Allow me to explain.
All the adult wizarding world has some knowledge of Erotovisium, certainly as strange and singular a potion as there is. The uses, or for that matter even the knowledge of the existence, of a potion of such power was of course withheld from students until their final year of study with me. Young wizards and witches who were in many cases less than a year removed from legal adulthood by then had the right to try to master some of the greatest of the sex-related powers known to Magic.
One of those powers Erotovisium confers is the ability to intuitively sense that two people are mutually attracted. Moreover, this intuitive perception is intensified more and more the closer the two are in physical proximity to each other. The two may have managed to completely conceal their feelings from everyone -- but Erotovisium reveals all. Once a person ingests but a few drops of Erotovisium he will immediately lapse into in an almost trancelike state in which he will see with razor-sharp clarity a scene in which two potential lovers are nakedly embracing, This is a vision not of any actual reality but simply of possibility -- a very desired possibility. Accompanying this vision is an absolute knowledge of where these two individuals happen to be at that precise moment.
I would often make use of this potion myself. I have always taken my responsibility as professor of Sex Magic extremely seriously. A large part of that responsibility involves overseeing the welfare of my charges. As they begin to gain more and more power in the use of charms, spells and potions related to love and sex, I can and do closely supervise their in-class experimentation. But one would have to be stupefyingly naive to assume that red-blooded adolescents are not also conducting their own such experiments on their own time, free of adult supervision. There is more than a little risk they run as they inevitably begin to practice these charms and spells on their own. And so I often use Erotovisium to monitor what they are doing.
Sometimes, when I sense a potential liaison may be detrimental to the wellbeing of either party, I am able, knowing of the incipient sexual connection before it happens, to divert their erotic energies into more harmless channels. Other times I arrange interruptions or distractions. When I sense the potential liaison to be benign, as a potentially meaningful learning experience for both young people, I allow it to proceed. I like to think of such a liaison as class homework, or perhaps more accurately, a bit of extra credit.
And, certainly, just as a professor of potions has the right to review his students' concoctions and a professor of mathematics his students' equations, I as a professor of sex magic have the right to review my students' sexual interactions, do I not? Indeed I do, and I do so willingly and, I am not ashamed to say, with a great deal of enjoyment! My technique is simple. I use an ordinary portkey, enchanted for a single use, to transport myself to a spot near where the couple are. Although portkeys cannot be used for travel into or out of Hogwarts they do work beautifully within the grounds for those who know how to use them. Prior to doing so I transform myself into an unobtrusive animal -- a mouse or some such -- but small, always small, just large enough to grip the portkey. This allows me almost instantaneous access. I am thus able to observe, at whatever distance I choose, all the erotic details.
The event whose record I am about to correct -- or perhaps, improve -- occurred early on a Saturday just a week after the beginning of term. I had ended my day the previous afternoon having just guided a class of third-years through their very first lesson on using sourpod juice to quadruple the intensity of orgasm. I found myself left with, I must admit, a degree of sexual frustration as a result. Perhaps it's just me, but a classroom full of 13-year-old boys flailing enthusiastically away on erections of various sizes and shapes protruding from their robes can have a very stimulating effect. Resisting the urge to retreat to my chambers for a quick release before dinner I preoccupied myself with some dreary academic work, using a simple charm known to all beginning students to cause my arousal to completely vanish.
Ordinarily the charm works so well arousal remains suppressed for one or two days. Ordinarily, I say. But early the following morning the mental picture of my masturbating third-years -- one or two especially well-endowed ones in particular-- assaulted my mind relentlessly. I confess I was perplexed by the failure of my charm to protect me from such an assault. I knew the charm could not be repeated for several days without risk of long-term damage to one's private parts, so I gave a mental shrug and decided to be philosophical and accept what I seemed unable to change. Accordingly, I decided to ingest a bit of Erotovisium and see if I could find someone who might be seeking some early morning refreshment of a sexual sort on whom I might spy. I don't mind confessing I'm a bit of a voyeur -- I see no reason to satisfy my urges with mere memory and fantasy if sexual beauty is available in the flesh!
No sooner had the first drops of the potion hit my tongue than a crystal clear picture emerged of two slender, naked forms, a boy and a girl, wrapped in a passionate, hair clutching, hip grinding, tongue-chewing embrace. Very interesting! The boy's luscious, clenching, somewhat muscular little butt was all the encouragement I needed to decide to put my spying plan into effect. As they twisted their lips against each other their positions shifted slightly and I was able to make out who the two young people were: Harry Potter and Cho Chang -- as it happened, two of my very favorites. I would definitely be joining them, if only vicariously! My vision of them was, I remind you, only a vision of possibility. No actual naked hip grinding and lip chewing were actually happening. At least not yet.
And I would be joining them mentally as well as physically. One of the things that can make a sex magic professor's supervision of his charges infinitely more enjoyable, as well as instructive, is legilmency. I must admit I do not profess to have mastered quite the number of spells and charms of some of my colleagues, most notably the legendary, admirably skilled Professor Severus Snape. However, one power for which I seemed from my earliest years of magical study to have a sort of knack is legilmency. While most of my fellow students often struggled mightily to learn to penetrate the consciousness of others, I invariably earned top marks from my old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at this skill.
I will pause here for a moment to remind my readers of a point the esteemed Professor Snape frequently made to his students. Legilmency is not "mind reading," in the sense that the legilmens "sees" or "hears" thoughts, as if they were written on a page or spoken by a voice. The skilled legilmens feels the emotion the subject feels, becomes intuitively aware of the object of his subject's attention, and has an instantaneous knowledge of his subject's mental perception, but not some exact phraseology by which such mental perceptions might manifest.
It is of course easier to penetrate a person's mind under some circumstances than others. A person whose attention floats from one thing to another, shifting from daydream to memory to speculation and back, can be challenging. And of course there are certain practiced occlumens whose defenses are devilishly difficult to penetrate. On the other hand, a person who is rigorously focused on a particular goal is especially easy.
And such usually proves to be the case with adolescent males when they are sexually aroused. Indeed, I believe there are few circumstances in which a young mind becomes more of an open book than when in the throes of erotic longing. And so, on this particular day, I quickly decided I would use my powers as a legilmens to experience the greatest possible enjoyment of these two attractive young people.
It might have surprised me to see where Harry and Cho were -- the large owlery at the very top of West Tower -- if I were not already familiar with some of the strange places in the castle students sometimes encountered each other and had sex. As I contemplated my approach I realized I should be very foolish indeed to suddenly appear among dozens of hungry owls having transformed into a mouse or a small bird. So instead I would become a fellow owl -- the only owl in England with the power to penetrate minds!
I picked up a pencil from my desk, performed two easy transformations, and the pencil had become my portkey. Within seconds after that I found myself perched on the windowsill of the Hogwarts owlery, gripping the pencil in the talons of my right foot. To my left I could look out the open window over the great lawn that stretched to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a brilliant emerald green in the early morning sun. To my right in the high-ceilinged room were all manner of owls, large and small, tawny brown to deep chocolate to sliver gray in color. Some of them were dozing quietly, others muttering and shuffling in that peculiar way owls have, and still others fluttering from one spot to another, apparently seeking the very best perch on which to sit and do nothing while awaiting a delivery summons.
I did not have long to wait.
The boy arrived first and sent off his message with his personal owl. I was shocked to find his mind focused on, of all people, Sirius Black! I knew there were many in the castle -- and for that matter, throughout England -- who would find this to be a fact of urgent importance. The boy was apparently in communication with the most wanted criminal in the land! I, however, have long since learned that I flourish most happily at Hogwarts by remaining aloof from the messy politics and tumult of the day, and I could actually have not cared less whom the boy communicated with. My focus was on the boy himself, his striking appearance illuminated by the shaft of sunlight pouring into the room.
To be sure, the boy was probably too young still to be called handsome in a manly sort of way, and perhaps a bit old to be described as cute. But there was something about him. An adolescent magnetism. I could feel it -- I think anyone could. An intensity, perhaps. His body, though he stood still, seemed about to suddenly leap into motion. He had always been like that, I reflected, even as a mere second-year. It was as if a sort of energy vibrated through him, even at rest. He seemed perpetually eager, perpetually vital, perpetually on alert and ready for action -- like a loaded crossbow or a spring-loaded trap. Or, honestly, more than anything else, like a furiously erect and ready penis.
Now that he was a fifth year, at age 15 his smallish lanky body had filled out a bit, though he still struck one as boyish. The sunlight striking his cheek revealed not a suggestion of adolescent down. As he moved his head just slightly the glare off his glasses vanished and I found myself captivated anew by his deep green eyes and lush, dark eyelashes. His bushy brows were furrowed in thought.
He was still gazing out one of the windows at something in the distance when the girl entered the room behind him. Harry turned and saw her. His mind was instantly blank with shock.
The girl stopped in her tracks, as shocked as he. Both young people paused, looking down at the straw-covered floor. In both of them awkwardness clearly struggled with instant desire -- it was as obvious in their hesitant postures as in their confusion-clouded minds. It was Cho who finally broke the silence.
"I was -- I'm sending a letter to my Mom. I guess you're sending a letter too."
"Um, yeah," Harry replied. I was aware as he said it that Harry did not want to mention the name of Sirius Black, for obvious reasons. Yes, the boy's mind, utterly focused as it was on the girl, was completely open to me.
There was more silence.
"I'm glad -- I mean, it's nice to see you. It seems like . . . " She faltered.
Harry looked her in the eye for the first time.
"It seems like there are always people around whenever we . . ." he offered.
Cho nodded and dropped her eyes. A shiver ran through her.
"Cold in here, isn't it," Harry observed.
Cho nodded, her teeth beginning to chatter.
"I sh-should have worn something warmer than th-this little robe."
Harry was hit with a sudden inspiration.
"Here you can wear mine too, maybe that will help."
"Oh, thanks, that's so nice of you."
It was only as he began to unhook the top hook of his robe that he was horrified to remember that for some stupid reason he had put on only underwear under his robe that morning. Harry always wore a T-shirt and jeans underneath his robes -- what an idiot he had been to rush out that morning wearing only his briefs, just because all his other clothes were ready for the wash! He froze in horror.
Cho looked at him questioningly.
"H-Harry?"
Harry swallowed.
"Uh, maybe that's not such a good idea . . . `
"What -- what do you mean? Gosh, It's OK if you don't want to. I mean, it's my fault for--"
"It's just that I'm -- I'm not really . . . "
"Not really what?'
"I'm -- I'm basically, um, naked under this robe."
Cho gazed at Harry then. There was something in her eyes he had never seen before.
In a voice so low and quavering Harry was unsure he heard her correctly, Cho held Harry's gaze as she murmured, "That's all right with me, Harry. In fact . . . "
The two continued to stare at each other, as her words hung in the air.
Then Harry was shocked to see a small, delicate hand reaching out to the front of his robe. Cho's hand lay against his chest, light as a little bird.
"Is it -- all right?" she whispered.
As if hypnotized, Harry slowly raised his own hand and placed it over Cho's. Her hand was trembling slightly.
"It's -- for sure it's all right," he exclaimed, swallowing hard.
After a moment Harry felt Cho's hand begin to move. He stared down at his own front as Cho began unfastening his robe. He stood motionless, his mind blank. It was only after Cho had opened his robe more than halfway that Harry realized he had a splitting hard erection. But it was too late. Too late to stop -- whatever it was that was about to happen.
Because now he felt her soft, slightly damp palm pressing against the naked flesh of his chest. And then, slowly, it slipped down the soft skin of his upper belly. Something clenched in the girl's throat as she gazed at the ridges of his six-packed abdomen. She slid her palm over each ridge and indentation, feeling their shape. At that moment she craved him -- craved his body -- with a knife-like intensity. I mentally recited to myself the Empathorum charm, allowing her craving into my own body, and instantly my own lust for the boy increased dramatically.
Then her palm slid down over his navel. She paused as her middle finger rested on the voluptuous bulge of his outie belly button. She could not help but gasp as a wave of desire began radiating from between her legs, spreading upward through her own belly. She paused.
"You can . . . keep going," Harry breathed, his voice a choked whisper.
With her other hand, Cho carefully unhooked the last clasp and pushed his robe aside. Her gaze held his for a second, but then she could not help it -- her eyes fell downward, until, stunned, they stopped.
I confess my own eyes followed and fixed on the exact same thing: an impossibly huge bulge in his white briefs, extending so far out to to the side that it reached all the way to the boy's hipbone. With a little shock I realized at that moment that Harry Potter probably had the biggest penis I had ever seen on a 15 year old wizard.
I must admit there was a moment there when my penetration of the minds of Harry and Cho was completely lost. I was as mesmerized as the girl at the obscenely large organ barely concealed by a thin layer of white cloth. And . . . there was a large damp spot where the boy's penis ended, and the cloth was so soaked that one side of his cockhead was clearly visible. A momentary fantasy seized me then, and I could almost feel how it would feel to rub my lips back and forth across that wet fabric right where it molded itself to the flaring rim of his cockhead. How it might feel even to slide that huge cockhead through my wet stretched lips and feel its hot bulk surge against the back of my throat . . .
I got a grip on myself. I saw Cho's eyes widen just slightly as she stared at that spectacular cock. She swallowed in shock, but also, I now could sense, in desire too.
Then I felt into Harry's mind. Suddenly his shyness dissipated like a mist in the sun. Suddenly he knew that it was all going to be OK.
He took her hand firmly in his.
"Are you ready?" he asked. His voice quavered a bit, but it was with excitement, not fear. Now he seemed to know what he was doing, somehow.
Slowly he drew her hand downward, turning it gently sideways, until her thumb rested at the elastic of his briefs. He pressed it more firmly into the muscles of his lower belly.
Then he smiled a crooked smile. "Last chance to turn back," he murmured. "If it's . . . too much."
She stared up at him and shook her head slightly.
"No," she whispered. "It's not too much. I'm . . . "
"You're what?"
"I'm . . . ready. It's just . . ."
"Just what?"
"This has to be -- just a one time thing. Is that OK?"
"One time? Um . . . why?" I could feel Harry's intense surprise at this news.
"Things are just too -- scary right now. And you're . . . well, you're in the middle of it all, aren't you?"
There was silence.
"Let's just make it -- something to remember, OK?" she pleaded softly.
Gazing at Cho he swallowed hard and then nodded. Then, still holding her gaze, he pushed her hand slowly down, under the elastic.
A thrill went through her as she felt his soft pubic curls, and then shock stunned her as Harry drew her hand onto -- it.
It was so very hard, yet at the same time as soft as a baby's skin, and incredibly hot. She hadn't imagined how hot it would be. Automatically, naturally, without even thinking, she closed her fingers around it, amazed at its girth. Her fingers barely met as she held the boy's weapon in her little hand.
"Feel it!" Harry demanded, a surge of power rushing through his body, a power he did not fully understand, but which thrilled him nonetheless. "Feel it all!"
Cho slowly drew her gentle grip along the burning hot column, centimeter by centimeter. She knew what a male organ looked like, of course, and as she slid her hand along its thickness she knew the shaft would end in a glans but . . . she kept going. And going. And going.
Suddenly, Harry stepped back, threw off his robe, dragged his briefs down in one quick motion and stepped out of them. He grabbed Cho's hand and placed it back on his now-naked cock. She looked down then and was overwhelmed by the power, even more than its astonishing size -- the reddened, surging, inflamed power of it. She knew that, even when just teenagers, some wizards had very large organs but this . . . . All she could do for a moment was just stare at what she held in her hand. Though Harry stood motionless it was almost as if the organ surged against her, sought to be inside her. She could feel the rapid throb of Harry's heartbeat in it. In a daze, not even realizing what she was doing, she drew her thumb across the broad expanse of his glans, moistening it with a large drop of clear, sticky fluid.
Then she looked up. Their eyes held a wordless embrace.
Harry gently gripped her by her upper arms, drew her close, bent down and pressed his lips to hers. She gave a muffled gasp and still clinging to his organ threw her other arm around him and pressed her body against his so hard it was almost if she were trying to force her way inside of him. Their lips remained smashed against each other's for a long minute. Their tongues twisted against each other. Then Harry pulled away.
"You too," he said softly, licking his bruised lips.
Without taking her eyes from Harry Cho stepped back, unfastened her robe, and began to daintily undress. In a moment she stood in front of him in just her panties.
Harry stared at her two small but perfectly formed breasts. Her pink nipples almost seemed to be erecting, as if reaching out to the boy as his cock was reaching out to her. I must confess that, although from a sexual standpoint the supposedly fairer sex normally holds absolutely no interest for me, the girl's slender, trim, almost boyish form was attractive. In that moment I could almost imagine myself . . .
"Well?" he asked boldly.
"I want you to do the rest," she whispered, giving a little shiver of both cold and excitement.
A surge of passion almost floored Harry, and it felt as if his cock was about to split its skin it was so hard.
He placed his hand on her belly as she had on his. He drew it slowly downward just as she had done. But then he turned his hand and, fingers pointed downward slid it underneath the elastic of her panties. Just as Cho had, he felt the softness of pubic hair. And then he allowed one finger to slip down, down until he felt the incredible softness of her lips. Without pausing or rushing, feeling in complete command of what was happening, Harry carefully slid his finger into the hot, wet, soft recesses of Cho Chang. She gave a soft gasp as he slipped it all the way in. He watched her eyes close partially in surrender. Then, as he drew his finger out, he pressed the side of it firmly into what he knew had to be there, what he had learned about in his very first year studying sex magic with me, that small, sensitive little button, that female penis-head. Cho stiffened against him, sucking in her breath.
"God," Harry whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by his emotions. Lust. Wonder. Admiration. And strangely, a kind of helplessness, as if he were at the mercy of something, of his own passions.
"Do it again," Cho muttered. Harry pressed her clitoris again.
"Yah!" she cried, throwing her head back.
And then, in scarcely more than a moment she was naked, and as she gripped his pale, naked shoulders hard, he grabbed his raging erection and pressed it between her legs.
Her eyes flew open then, and she cried "Ohhhhhhh!"
"You OK?" he panted.
"Yeah," she answered. There was something in her tentativeness that made Harry pause, in spite of the fact that every cell of his body was screaming at him to penetrate her, to drive every inch of his massive erection into her soft little body.
"It's just . . . " she began.
"What?"
Was she going to call it off now? Harry screamed to himself. Not now!
"I've never done it!" she choked.
"Oh." Harry paused, his heart hammering so hard in his chest it seemed impossible Cho could not hear it.
He had to ask.
"Not even with Cedrick?"
"We, um, did stuff, but not, you know . . ."
Harry felt relieved, somehow.
"That's OK. I've, well, um, I've never either . . ."
"Really!?" Her voice and her eyes burst with both surprise and pleasure. "You?!"
"We'll be -- each other's . . . you know . . . " she said.
The two smiled into each other's eyes for a moment. Then Harry reached down with both hands, gripped her soft little butt firmly, and slowly, steadily, carefully, impaled her with nearly every one of what must have been at least 10 thick, hot inches.
I watched as his small ass flexed and hunched. I found myself admiring his lean trim body. He had a narrow boyish waist; a man with large hands -- a man such as myself, perhaps -- could almost have encircled it completely. His shoulders were quite broad, however, and I noticed that even at age 15 his shoulders were capped with small, defined muscles. I watched the muscles of his upper back crawl under his skin as he began to slowly, carefully screw the girl. After a moment he widened his stance a bit and I could see his testicles swaying in their sac as he moved. His legs, which looked from my vantage point to be completely hairless, flexed with his movements, his slender calves knotting and releasing.
I felt myself weak with desire. My thoughts, Harrys' thoughts, Cho's thoughts all swirled together, one indistinguishable from the other, as I watched, unable to tear my attention away. There was something awkward and graceless about them as they coupled, squirming against each other, and I quickly saw what the problem was -- Harry, though not a tall boy, was several inches taller than Cho, and he had to bend his knees unnaturally to make their coupling work at all.
After a few more seconds of this he gasped, "Put your arms around my neck! Hold tight!"
When Cho complied Harry gripped her butt firmly and, shoulder muscles straining, attempted to lift her up. Seeing what he was trying to do she attempted to help by gripping his shoulders firmly and then wrapping her legs around his waist,. The boy staggered with her weight, small though she was.
"Fuck!" he shouted in exasperation. The forbidden expletive, from the mouth if one so young, thrilled me somehow.
The boy suddenly put her down, his penis slipping out quickly, as she gave a gasp of discomfort.
"Sorry," he muttered, as he dropped to his knees and began roughly clearing a space on the floor, brushing aside straw, owl pellets, and the occasional small animal skull. I watched his immense, bright pink penis, glistening with the girl's juices, waving about in front of him as he worked, and I could feel him as he seethed with impatience, frustration, and desire.
Harry reached over to where their discarded robes lay, grabbed them up and spread them out. Cho saw what he was doing and he had scarcely finished before she dropped to her knees. He reached for her and pulled, but she resisted.
"No," she murmured. "You on your back."
The boy was still a moment, and I could feel incomprehension.
"This is best the first time," she murmured. "That's what they taught us."
Cho was always such a quick student.
"OK," he muttered then, feeling foolish, as he certainly should have done, at forgetting what I had taught him about the subtleties of sexual positioning.
"Ah," he cried out in discomfort as he lay down. He dug underneath him, pulled out of one of the robes the wand that has stuck him, and tossed it aside. He quickly lay prone. I couldn't take my eyes off his massive tool. It was so long it came up far past his navel, and I could see, as he waited quietly and she knelt motionless for a moment, gazing at his penis as I was, that the great organ seemed to throb with his heartbeat. His narrow concave belly rose and fell quickly.
She girl rose to her knees, then reached her hand down as if to grab his organ, but then hesitated. I could feel her doubt -- she didn't want to appear too eager. Desire raged through her little body.
"Push your legs together." Her voice shook with emotion.
Harry immediately clamped his legs tight and the girl carefully clambered over him. The boy then grabbed his cock himself and held it upwards in invitation. Cho licked her lips, then clasped her hand over his and leaned forwards bit, bracing her other hand on his pale chest. Their eyes were locked onto each other. Very slowly and cautiously, their movements synchronized, the two managed, with just a couple of missteps, to find the right spot. They were still.
"Ready?" Harry was able to keep the impatience from his voice, but I could feel it. The boy had never in his life craved sexual pleasure as he did at that moment. No sweaty, twisting masturbatory climax, no nervous but exciting blowjob sessions with other boys, no sourpod-enhanced, half-minute-long orgasms in my Sex Magic class could compare with what he was feeling at that moment.
In response the girl slowly, inch by delicious inch, began sitting down. She was tentative and awkward, though -- the positioning wasn't quite right.
Harry sensed this and raised his knees so she could nestle more comfortably in his lap. As she sank gratefully down she threw her head back, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She sat down farther still and it was Harry's turn then to gasp and toss his head from side to side.
Then something surprising happened. Cho reached down next to Harry's body, picked up her discarded wand, and then, just barely intelligibly, began to murmur something. I thought I recognized it. It was the Prolonging charm. Or was it the Intensifying charm? She wafted her wand through the air over Harry's body as she muttered. It took me a few seconds to realize what the girl was doing. Amazed, I listened as she wove together the two charms, using a technique I had no idea how she would have learned, since she wasn't yet a sixth-year.
Despite his intense sexual longing, Harry began paying attention to what Cho was doing. He listened for several more seconds as the girl, her body motionless still, continued weaving her spell, her slender arm weaving circles and figure eights over him. As he listened he could feel, without a millimeter of movement of their bodies, his sexual craving rising and rising, more intense with every second. Although he craved with every fiber of his being to thrust deeper into her, an equally powerful urge came over him. The urge to intensify this encounter for her, as she was doing for him.
After listening another few seconds to catch the rhythm, Harry raised one hand so it was a few inches from Cho's body, as if in request. The girl handed the wand to him and clasped her hand over his Then he began murmuring too. Although he had never heard of the combining technique Cho was using he of course knew the charms well; he had been practicing them since he was my third-year. Cho gazed into his eyes. The two moved their hands as one then, murmuring together, synchronizing their charms. At that moment neither the owls, Hogwarts, Sirius Back, Voldemort nor all of England herself existed for Harry. All there was was the pleasure sweeping through him, his desire for the luscious slenderness of her, his need to penetrate still deeper into the hot wetness of her.
The charm was finished. If they had performed it correctly -- and somehow, perhaps because of the careful, confident movements of their hands clasping each other around the base of the wand, I believed they must have -- their coupling would go on for many minutes, bringing them pleasure in ever more intense waves.
It seemed as if perhaps it would have been right for me to leave them then, to allow them privacy in this most intimate of moments. But I'm afraid I must admit it -- I stayed. I was captivated -- in fact, I was charmed. Had these two somehow cast their spell over me as well?
The boy -- eyes closed, wet red lips parted, chest heaving -- thrust his hips upward in a slow, steady rhythm. The way he carefully ground his hips upward with each thrust told me he was smashing his pubic bone against her clitoris, just as I had taught his class to do. The girl, leaning back against his raised knees, gripping his thighs hard, rolled her hips forward and back with equal slowness. She was gasping with pleasure. Each time Cho eased backward I could see a couple of inches of Harry's penis, thick and glistening pink, expose itself before being swallowed by the forward tilt of her hips as Harry eased upward again. Rocking and gasping, sighing and softly grunting, the boy and girl rocked on and on. Feeling into them, there was an intensity of pleasure that was washing over them in wave after wave, and as each wave drenched them their excitement intensified.
Minutes went by, how many I don't know.
Eventually Harry murmured something -- in my own glazed-over state I had lost contact with his mind, so I don't know what he was thinking. In response the girl very carefully rose to her knees, and I watched in wonder, shocked again by the immensity of it on such a little frame, as his glistening cock slid inch by inch by inch from the girl's body until at last it was free and slapped juicily against his pale, heaving belly.
As if in a dance in which each partner automatically knows just how to move the two silently exchanged places. Kneeling before her Harry gently gripped her slender thighs just above the knee and pushed them wide apart. Then he grabbed his flaming cock firmly at the base. Two-thirds of it jutted from his fist. The head flared outward like the crest of an angry bird, his bunched foreskin like a ruffle of neck feathers.
Harry bent forward and braced one hand next to her shoulder. Then he was still as they locked eyes. A long, silent moment passed. Passion and wonder swirled through their lust-clouded brains. Then he leaned forward more, bent his cock downward, and pressed against her.
"Slow," she whispered.
"Yeah," Harry replied softly.
He barely moved at all, but after a few seconds I could see it happening. He had begun to ease into the girl again. He tossed his head back, eyes squeezed shut. I felt into him again and was suddenly aware of two great forces struggling against each other within Harry. One was a fiery, itching craving to slam into her with every ounce of force he could muster, to feel the immense satisfaction, the climactic release that was already hovering, ready to explode outward. The other was a rock-like will to hold back, hold back, hold back, prolonging the sword's-edge of desire, the pinnacle of ecstatic longing. The two charms were working together -- this was powerful magic indeed.
In another thirty seconds he had entered her an inch more. After another half-minute, another couple of inches. The girl was panting rapidly, her little hands spasmodically gripping the robe they lay on. The boy's body glistened with sweat. His little tricep clenched, his arm rigid as it supported his upper body weight. His toes scrabbled for purchase against the straw-strewn floor.
"Ghaaah," he gasped, and now he withdrew just slightly, and then, with an exquisite slowness I cannot imagine how he managed, he entered her just another inch. The girl suddenly gripped his forearm tightly.
"More," she gasped, her eyes still squeezed shut.
"No!" he gasped, as much to himself as to her. "Go slow."
"Oh God," she moaned. I felt into her and she was awash in longing, totally lost in her craving for the boy's immense organ, the craving to be utterly filled up.
"Harrrryyyy!" she wailed. "Please!"
The boy stopped, staring into her eyes, undecided.
"Yes!" she cried, staring back.
And then the boy wizard -- just 15 years old, after all -- crumbled.
"Ah FUCK!" he yelled and, scarcely gathering himself at all, he thrust the remaining 6 or so inches of iron- hard flesh into her.
"Wahhh!" she yelled, eyes staring wide, her body jerking in response to the immensity of his invasion.
Harry arched his slim back, pulled most off the way out of her, and then slammed back in again. And then he went like a house afire. Harry slammed, twisted, arched, thrust again and again and again, his athletic little body going into overdrive. He grunted soft little "huh," "huh," "huh" sounds with every thrust. Cho gripped his back so hard her nails dug into his flesh. His mind lost in a tempest of sexual fury, the pain only drove him wilder.
I felt into her and the waves of sexual storm surging through her brain were every bit the equal of Harry's. Very soon she had adjusted to the immense length and girth of the boy and was able to match thrust with thrust, lifting and surging against him with more strength than I would have thought her small body capable of.
Their climaxes had arrived but they hovered just at the edge, the very edge, the charm keeping them at bay, allowing the youngsters to screw on and on and on. I don't know how many minutes they thrust into each other then, gasping and flailing, hovering at the edge of ecstasy. I confess I was lost in a haze of pleasure myself as I allowed their mind-blowing pleasure to blow my mind too.
The two athletic young people were drenched in sweat -- it flew from their bodies, their tossing hair, their flailing limbs. They were so swept away neither of them knew where they were. They were gasping, moaning, grunting like animals. Their movements were no longer synchronized as each of them grappled with the other body, searching for still greater pleasure, still deeper satisfaction. I knew it was the charm that denied them release but made the sexual itching more intense, the craving more wonderful yet unbearable.
I suddenly felt alarm, and pulled myself out of their minds so I could think. Was this too much? Had these two inexperienced young magicians taken on more than their still-maturing bodies could tolerate? Would the grip of the charm be so strong they couldn't climax at all, and so would just continue to screw and screw until their little bodies gave out, or worse, until their minds were destroyed? I knew perfectly well that there were cases of wizards intensifying their sexual charms so greatly that they drove themselves to mental breakdowns. I would always tell the cautionary tale to my sixth-years of several misguided wizards who became so captivated by the Prolonging charm they went completely insane. There are a couple of these poor chaps in St. Mungo's to this day.
And what could I, now a silly owl, do to help? I had no wand, I had no voice with which to murmur a spell, and not even a hand with which to gesture to give magical force to my words if I could speak. I felt a rush of panic. And then, just then, it happened.
The girl suddenly threw her legs around Harry's waist and arched her back, thrusting her heaving breasts into the air. Something about the changed angle squeezed Harry's cock so tightly it was like a powerful fist squeezing his erection. I think for a split second they were actually motionless -- and then, as rarely happens in those not expertly trained, they apparently began to climax simultaneously. Harry bellowed, Cho shrieked, and then, bodies locked together as if melded into one solid object, they gushed their sexual juices at each other. I don't know how many times Harry ejaculated -- even from a young age boy wizards often produce prodigious amounts of semen -- but their climaxes went on and on. I didn't even enter their minds then, awash as I was with relief, but I could see from the rigid grip each had on the other as they rocked and groaned and gasped, they must have continuously orgasmed for at least a half minute.
Then, at last, they were still, the one on top of the other.
My last view, before I gripped my pencil firmly in my right claw and transported myself back to my rooms, was of Harry's sexy little butt, still occasionally giving a languorous clench, as if maybe there were just a tiny bit more young wizard cum to squeeze into the body of his little lover.