Chapter 7
Author's Note:
The following incident took place during Harry Potter's sixth and final year at Hogwarts. By that time, as will be obvious to the reader, his dorm mates, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, had become very sexual young wizards indeed. The account below illustrates just how casually open to sexual pleasure the two were with each other -- and with the occasional stranger as well.
Seamus Finnegan had quite a long wait outside the Gryffindor changing room for his best friend, Dean Thomas. Nearly all Dean's quidditch teammates had trudged back to the castle, the lot of them looking very much as if their captain, Harry Potter, had put them through their paces. Finally Dean emerged, shirtless, trailing his uniform top behind him.
"Oi mate, you kept me waitin' a blinkin' long time!" Seamus exclaimed as they headed off toward the castle, side by side. "If you're havin' a wank in the loo you should speed it up a bit! God knows you can!"
Dean smirked. "Too effin' tired to have a go." He let out a deep breath. "Right now I just fancy a shower."
Seamus clapped a hand on his friend's sinewy brown shoulder, then yanked it away and wiped it on his robe. "Sticky! Potter must be killin' you lot."
"He wants to win, that's a fact. He works as hard as any of us, though, I'll give him that. Maybe harder."
"He happy with you on the team? You're no Katie Bell, right?"
"Right, my dick's bigger'n hers."
Seamus chortled and the two boys exchanged grins.
Dean twisted his back, rotated his shoulder and grimaced a bit.
"Christ, I'm gonna be sore tomorrow."
"You droppin' a hint then?" Seamus asked with a half-grin.
His friend glanced at him sideways.
"Well, p'raps."
"Expect we've got time before lunch."
"Expect so."
Dean Thomas stood in the shower alone, eyes closed, obviously luxuriating in the feeling of rivulets of warm water coursing over his golden brown body. He was not a particularly athletic-looking boy as quidditch players go. He was rather slender, and of a bit less than average height for a 17-year old. He did not have the lusciously curving chest muscles of Ron Weasley or the long knotting biceps of the late Cedric Diggory. His thighs were slender, lacking the power quidditch players find helpful for explosive takeoffs. Yet for all that he may have lacked in muscular size his body was beautifully defined. His legs and ass flexed with every small movement as he turned a bit this way and that in the spray. His belly, though boyishly narrow, was sculpted perfection. A pronounced pelvic V dramatically directed one's attention downward. Two veins stood out erotically from his lower belly as they plunged out of sight into his pubic hair. His penis, slender and honey colored like the rest of him, swayed gently as he moved.
He had spent several minutes enjoying his post-practice shower, and must certainly have been quite clean at that point. Nevertheless he filled his cupped hands with a gob of liquid soap and then slowly, luxuriantly drew them down his belly and then, arching erotically backward a bit, slathered the white goop into his groin. He did not have much more pubic hair than a typical wizard two or three years his junior, the small patch of black curls matting just against his pubis and the side of his scrotum, his groin and lower belly completely free of hair. He gave several languorous tugs on his shaft, twisting his fist slightly, adding an extra bit of pleasure. The boy's organ began to swell and erect. He grabbed the end of his cock in his fist and squeezed, his eyes shut even tighter, his teeth gritted. The boy drew a deep breath, let it out with a whooshing "Haaaaahhhhhh" sound, and then twisted the shower handle to shut off the water.
Dean briskly toweled himself off and in another minute had left the shower room behind and entered his five-boy dorm room. The room was silent but not empty. Across the room, seated on the edge of his four-poster, was Seamus Finnegan. He was as naked as his friend was.
Without hesitating Dean strode over to his own bed, his cock, softened now but still considerably enlarged beyond its usual flaccid 6 inches, swinging thickly as he walked. Seamus Finnegan's eyes went at once to Dean's bobbing organ and he grinned but said nothing. As if absently, without thinking, he caressed his own ample organ just a bit.
Dean tossed his damp towel onto the floor and slid onto his unmade bed, shoving sheet and blanket aside, and lay prone and motionless.
Seamus approached him. "Let's see what we can do about that shoulder, eh?"
Seamus was normally a boy who was almost never without sarcasm. It was his lance, his shield, his very identity. And yet now he spoke without a trace of irony. His tone was soft and mild, completely lacking his usual snide innuendo. It was actually a kindly tone. One might almost, but not quite, say his was an affectionate voice just then.
Seamus knelt on the bed, straddled his friend's legs, and sat back onto his thighs. He paused a moment, looking down at this prone, receptive body. A few drops of water quivered on Dean's sinewy brown shoulder.
The two were a study in physical contrasts. Dean's golden-mocha skin and curly black hair showed his Black heritage. Seamus was the typically snow-white Irish lad, his lank sandy hair showing just a hint of copper. He was a head taller than Dean, and though on the slender side as well had a bit more meat on his bones. The difference even extended to their sex organs. Whereas Dean's cock was slim and light brown, uncircumcised, satiny and smooth, Seamus' was thick and veiny, with a violently rose-colored head and a thin brown circumcision scar. Indeed, just about the only similarity between the two boys' penises was their virtually identical size. This similarity did not, however, prevent Seamus from loudly and frequently proclaiming that his was indeed larger.
"By a half-inch, at the most!!" Dean would retort. "And mine's bigger when it's soft, which should count for more. I mean, it's soft way more than it's hard!"
"Christ, don't feed me that!" Seamus would reply. "You're wanking half the night, and you're always hard in class. I've seen you grabbing it underneath your robes when the professors ain't lookin'!"
At that moment, as Seamus sat motionless on his friend's legs, gazing down at the golden brown back, the narrow waist, the swelling buttocks just in front if him, it was as if Seamus' cock was indeed striving to prove itself proud and huge. Before he could even reach for the drawer next to Dean's bed where the boys kept a large tube of massage cream, he had sprung a rather impressive hard on.
Squirting a small gob of cream into his palm Seamus smiled to himself a bit, perhaps enjoying having a little secret, as his mate lay peacefully beneath him, eyes blissfully closed, completely unaware of the raging erection that waved in the air just inches above his smooth, cantaloupe-sized globes. Seamus then placed his palms in the center of his friend's back, and leaning his body weight forward, began pressing his palms upward, sliding his cream-slick palms up to Dean's shoulders.
"Mmmmhhh," the boy exhaled softly in obvious pleasure.
"That good?"
Dean gave a little chuckle. "Not sure. Better do it a bunch more times."
"Right, then," Seamus smirked, drawing his hands slowly downward and then pressing up again. Over and over Seamus' hands pressed up on either side of Dean's spine, then drew back more gently, over his ribs, tucking in at his waist, then carefully turning and returning again upward, over and over, over and over, until the prone boy must have been half-blissed out.
Seamus shifted his position onto one knee, allowing both hands to slide upward and cup Dean's shoulder.
"It's the right one, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Let me work on it a bit."
With that the kneeling boy set to work, and it was clear after just a minute or two of rhythmically, insistently kneading the muscles of Dean's shoulder that the boy had rather a knack for that sort of thing. Dean's arm flopped loosely at his side as Seamus worked it about. He dug his knuckles into the shoulder muscle, caressed the boy's upper arm as he stroked from neck to elbow, and tucked his thumbs into Dean's scantily haired armpit and massaged the joint from underneath. Every once in awhile he would lengthen out his strokes, smoothing out the boy's entire upper back and neck as if trying to unify the sore muscles of Dean's shoulder with the rest of his torso. All the while Seamus' thick tool, blue veins bulging, bobbed and waved over Dean's body as Seamus moved about.
At one point a drop of precum flew from the opening of Seamus' cock and landed on Dean's ribs. Chuckling to himself Seamus filled his palm with more massage goop and smeared it right over the pre-cum as it glistened on Dean's skin, mixing the two fluids together into a thin film, caressing the side of the boy's body from armpit to waist. It was almost as if Seamus wanted his body fluid, this essential, intimate product of his own being, his very self, to soak into his friend's skin and become part of him.
It was a few minutes later that Seamus muttered, "Should be enough for now. Let it rest a bit. Don't want to overdo." He sat back on Dean's thighs. "Could work awhile on your other bits, though."
"Could do."
Seamus snickered. "`Could do?' You know you love it!"
"S'alright!"
"Bugger you then! It's better than all right and you bloody well know it!"
With that Seamus suddenly gave Dean's left buttock a good smack.
"Yeow!" the boy cried in surprise, his little butt clenching.
"Ah you like that, eh? Fancy a little spanking, do you?" With that Seamus gave Dean another slap. At that Dean quickly rolled over and grabbed Seamus' wrists.
"Sadistic sod!" he cried. "What kind of massager slaps people?" The boys wrestled with each other a bit, laughing and cursing as they squirmed about on the bed, apparently evenly matched in strength.
Suddenly Dean's eyes flew open wide. "Look at that blinkin' tent pole! You gettin' all hot for me then?"
"An' I s'pose you've not got the horn yourself?" Seamus replied, trying to roll Dean over onto his back to see. "You're stiff every time we -- OOF!"
As the boys struggled Dean's elbow accidentally rammed Seamus in the belly. Grimacing, the boy stopped struggling, clutched himself, and dropped his forehead to the mattress.
"Christ, you prick!" he muttered, in obvious pain.
"Sorry," Dean murmured, chastised.
A moment passed silently, as Seamus recovered.
The boy finally flopped onto the bed on his back next to his friend, arm over his eyes.
"Kiss it and make it better," he said softly.
Dean hesitated, then leaned over, lips pursed, and planted a small peck on Seamus' creamy upper belly.
"Like that?" His voice was thick with emotion.
Seamus' voice came even softer.
"Farther down."
Dean hesitated again.
"Like . . . " Dean placed his lips onto Seamus' body again, then dragged them downward almost to his innie navel and left them there a moment
". . . that?"
Seamus' voice was just a bit shaky. "A . . . a tad farther still,"
Dean stared a moment, his eyes focused not on the spot he had kissed but a mere inch or so father down, where the fiery pink head of Seamus' prick stretched upward, fat and glistening. A tad farther would have had his lips pressing against that big cockhead. He swallowed and blinked, as one does when faced with something about which one has both trepidation and desire.
The room was silent. The only movement was the small rise and fall of Seamus' belly, and the slight resulting bobbing of his cock.
The decision was apparently made. Dean slowly bent forward and pressed his lips right below the opening of his friend's cock, just where a little pucker of reddish skin bisected the glans. And left them there.
Seamus let out a slow hiss, and placed one hand with the utmost gentleness on the back of Dean's head.
Dean was still a moment and then, very slowly, opened his mouth, sliding his lips over Seamus' cockhead until, as Seamus inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, Dean had slipped the fiery glans completely into his mouth.
Seamus' back arched slightly and his butt clenched.
"Yeah." His voice was almost inaudible.
Dean's hand came to Seamus' erection then, and he held it in place with his fingertips as he began to drag his tongue with agonizing slowness over and around Seamus' cockhead. Then his cheeks hollowed as he began to suck.
"Fuck, that's good," Seamus breathed, eyes still closed in pleasure.
Dean settled himself more comfortably prone between Seamus' spread legs then, and he very slowly moved his head up and down, just Seamus' glans and a bit more its his mouth.
Minutes went by.
Easing his glistening red lips more than halfway down the thick shaft, Dean was obviously taking Seamus' cockhead into his throat with every slow surge. As he sucked his friend he slowly ground his own cock into the mattress, his slender back arching and tucking, his boyish butt clenching and releasing. Like most boy wizards trained at Hogwarts, Dean Thomas showed a sexual self-control far beyond what one would expect of most adolescents. No grappling with the other's body half out of control, no desperate racing toward climax, no self-centered obliviousness to the other's pleasure. One might say that Dean Thomas was a boy one would want to make love with.
Seamus lay motionless, eyes closed, one hand resting gently on Dean's bicep, seemingly lost in a world of pleasure. Dean's patient skill was seeing to that. These two boys, mocha brown and snow white, seemingly completely comfortable with each other, appeared not to be doing this for the very first time. And yet, there had been a tentativeness, a shakiness to both of them just before Dean's first kiss of Seamus' cock, before the decision was clear and the boys by mutual unspoken agreement surrendered into their pleasure. Not the very first time, then, and yet perhaps one of the first.
Seamus had now begun hunching his hips upward a bit every time Dean slid his lips down his glistening pink cock. His hand rested on the back of Dean's curly head, perhaps pressing just slightly every time he lifted upward. Meanwhile Dean had begun to cradle and caress Seamus' balls. Seamus' large testicles lay splayed out between his legs in their loose hairless sack. Dean's brown fingers handled them delicately, as one might fondle precious and rare jewels.
Seamus' muttered something. Dean carefully drew his sucking mouth off of Seamus' penis, taking several seconds to slide his lips over the inflamed bulk of Seamus' cockhead and off.
"Hmm?" he asked, licking his lips absently.
"Gimme the charm," Seamus said, eyes still closed.
"The slam?"
Seamus nodded.
"The slam" was the term all the boys at Hogwarts used for the Intensifying Charm, a spell they had learned as third-years that could triple and quadruple the intensity of arousal. No one knew why it was called `the slam." The term had been a part of Hogwarts lore, passed down from older students to younger ones, far longer than anyone alive would have been able to recollect.
"Right," Dean responded, looking around on the floor next to the bed for his robe. In a moment he had grabbed out his wand, sat back on his heels and pointed the wand at Seamus.
"Wank a bit," he advised. "Makes it work faster."
"Never heard that one," Seamus admitted, gripping his fiery erection in one fist and beginning to stroke it.
Dean began moving the wand in strange curlicues as he muttered a charm.
"Feel anything yet?" he asked after a moment.
"F-in' yeah!" Seamus gasped, teeth gritted, as he wanked himself faster.
Dean smiled in satisfaction and tossed the wand aside.
"Need any help then, or you goin' solo?
Seamus opened his eyes and grinned, teeth still clenched, fist still moving.
"Could do with some assistance!" he managed to chortle.
At that Dean roughly shoved Seamus' hand aside, bent down, and quickly sucked his friend's swollen cockhead back in.
"YAH!" Seamus exclaimed.
Dean gathered himself, the small muscles of his upper back bunching, and then he dove downward, driving Seamus' erection all the way down his throat. Then, as Seamus thrashed about in obvious ecstasy, he really went to town.
It must be mentioned at this point that Dean Thomas was not, strictly speaking, homosexual. For one thing, it was common knowledge that he deflowered the saucy Ravenclaw Eldora Bunch. (Although in fact she had proudly proclaimed to some of her friends that it was she who had deflowered him!) And, although no one knew for certain how far he and Ginny Weasley had gone -- the two were completely buttoned up on that score -- there were rumors, as there always are in the absence of known fact, that the two had progressed quite far down the path of passion before their recent painful breakup. No, not gay then, but not exactly as straight as a string either. Rather, he just seemed to be a lusty boy coming into the full flower of his sexual potency, eager and willing to dispense his affections and his sperm into whoever seemed to be in need of them, female or male. At the moment it was his best friend who seemed in need and accordingly Dean was clearly relishing the challenge of driving him wild with pleasure.
And Seamus was obviously surrendering himself completely to enjoyment, eyes closed, breathing heavily, arms splayed outward, fingers occasionally gripping the mattress. Again and again Dean plunged down hard, his cheeks sucked in, his lips glistening with saliva. Kneeling now between his friend's legs, his little butt waving in the air as he moved, he was a study in sexual concentration. Both boys seemed so lost in what they were doing they were apparently completely unaware when, a minute later, a third person entered the room.
The Stranger stood silently by the door a moment, taking in the scene in front of him. After another moment he began slowly and carefully removing his robe, and then the rest of his clothing, allowing it to fall silently into a pile at his feet. When he was completely naked the first thing one would have noticed was an unusually large penis, even for a boy wizard, and it had begun to erect and lengthen rapidly. Quiet as a cat the Stranger moved across the room toward a large trunk at the foot of one of the other beds. Very carefully he raised the lid, reached into it, and pulled a tube of something out of it. He uncapped the tube and squeezed a large gob of clear gel into his palm. Then, carefully and slowly he began massaging the gel all over his penis.
In another moment he had moved across the room until he stood just behind Dean. The slim boy, eyes closed, was now slowly and steadily deep throating his friend, giving a soft, guttural grunt each time Seamus' organ penetrated his throat and then sank even further in. The Stranger grasped his huge slippery, shining organ with one hand, bent it downward, and paused, Just then Seamus' eyes happened to flicker open and then immediately widened in surprise. A grin crept over his features them, and he gave a conspiratorial nod to the Stranger. The next moment several things happened in quick succession.
The stranger firmly grabbed Dean's hipbones and tugged him backward a bit, the boy instantly snapped upward, crying, "What--" and Seamus immediately grabbed Dean by the neck and pulled him forcefully downward again onto his spit-glistening erection. The Stranger, splaying his fingers wide over the kneeling boy's buttocks and pulling them apart, nudged his arrow-straight cock into the central cleft and shoved.
"MMmmmphhh!" Dean cried out, his voice muffled by Seamus' cock, which was once again lodged deep in his clutching throat. The Stranger quickly widened his stance a bit, sucked in a lungful of air, and began relentlessly shoving. A gurgling gasp escaped Dean's stuffed throat as the Stranger's enormous organ began slowly but steadily penetrating his now-quivering backside. Teeth gritted, fingers clutching, lean arms tensing, little calf muscles knotting, the Stranger bore down with relentless determination.
When perhaps half of his penis had rammed into the boy's body the Stranger paused, and then, giving a whoosh of air, slowly began withdrawing. His cock, an angry pink-purple in color, glistened thickly as it slowly pullout of the little ass. Finally a good 9 inches of cock connected the two young wizards, as only the head of the Stranger's cock remind inside of the kneeling boy.
"Yeah?" came the Stranger's voice, thick with sexual desire.
Dean pulled off of Seamus' cock.
"Yeah!" he cried loudly, desperately, proclaiming his own lust before lunging back downward and driving Seamus' straining pole deep into his throat.
"Right!" crowed the Stranger, and then, gripping the other' boy's hip bones even tighter, he really began screwing. Thrusting and withdrawing with ever-increasing speed the stranger drove five, then six, then seven, then eight inches into the kneeling boy, with every thrust gasping softly.
"Yuhh! Yuhh! Yuhh! Yuhh!" he gasped over and over as he thrust. Before long his pale skin began glowing with sweat. His fucking was now not merely something he did with his penis and hips -- he threw his whole self against the other boy, as if trying to drive not only the great penis but his whole body into Dean's guts.
Soon, his head thrown back in pleasure, long locks trailing over his upper back, eyes squeezed shut, the Stranger was obviously flying high into rarefied realms of erotic pleasure. And yet, even in his rapture his were not the sometimes clumsy, clambering thrusts of the average adolescent in the heat of sexual passion. Although apparently completely possessed by sexual desire, driving relentlessly toward his climax, the Stranger moved with athletic poise, the surging and digging of his hips smooth, almost graceful. For a slender boy he seemed to be remarkably strong, and his unhesitant air and confident movements suggested that screwing was a well-practiced art with him.
Despite the obvious ecstasy that swallowed both the Stranger and Seamus it was Dean who came first. Suddenly yanking his head off Seamus' cock he bellowed "Fuck!!" and then, without even touching his cock, bent down to watch his cock spurt shot after shot of milky gism onto the bedclothes beneath him. As soon as the boy shot his load the Stranger began ramming him even harder, if that were possible, driving Dean's curly head into the mattress between Seamus' splayed legs. He did not even break rhythm until Dean, exhausted from his orgasm, finally toppled to one side and the Stranger's rigid cock slipped rapidly from his guts. It shone dully as it waved in the air, nearly a foot of inflamed wizard-boy lust.
With scarcely a moment's hesitation the Stranger rolled Dean over onto his back, grabbed his ankles, thrust them forward and outward and then, as the exhausted boy grabbed obediently at his knees and pulled himself open wider, the Stranger fisted his erection downward and forward, nudged it between the boy's nates, and thrust. Ignoring the groan of protest from Dean the Stranger grabbed the boy's slender thighs and yanked the boy closer to him so his upper back lay against the edge of the mattress and the boy's butt hovered in midair, impaled as it was by the first two inches of the Stranger's tool.
As the Stranger paused to adjust Dean's position, Seamus rose to his knees. "What about me then?" he queried.
Without waiting for a reply from either boy he rose to his feet on the bed, straddled Deans' torso, and shoved his vein-bulging cock right at the Stranger's face. As if it had been choreographed the Stranger simultaneously grabbed Seamus' erection with one hand and stuffed the head of it into his mouth as with the other he fisted his swollen erection deeper into Dean's now-stretched bowels. The Stranger's neat, agile body, wet now with perspiration, was alive in every part. His face lunged repeatedly against Seamus' hips as he attempted to get more and more of the thick organ into his mouth and down his throat. His right arm clambered for a grip on Dean's waist to hold him securely in place as he fucked him. His hips lunged and surged, twisted and rolled, as he pounded Dean's prostate relentlessly. His feet slipped and shuffled against the wooden floor as he scrabbled for the best possible purchase. His free arm waved spasmodically in the air as he flailed for balance. The Stranger seemed consumed by the fire of his own passion -- as if he has no thought at all for anything but pleasure, striving as he did with every cell of his bloody for climax, for explosion, for relief.
Both of Seamus' hands now clutched the back of the Stranger's skull as he began to thrust his cock more aggressively deep into the Stranger's mouth.
"Ay, FUCK that's good," he cried, the long muscles of his thighs clenching, his pale butt squeezing and hollowing.
"Yaaaah," gasped Dean a minute later, eyes squeezed shut, mouth twisted in a grimace, shoulders bouncing on the bed as the Stranger mauled him.
All three boys were soon bathed in sweat. Finally the Stranger began to tire, his thrusts coming more slowly now, no longer in a smooth rhythm but roughly and irregularly. And then, by now certainly overwhelmed by the effects of the Intensifying charm, Seamus was suddenly there.
"Aw FUCK! Take it! CUMMING! YAAAAAHHH!!" The Irish boy gripped the Stranger's long hair in both fists and began pounding his hips into his face. At this the Stranger stopped his thrusts into Dean's bowels and withdrew, wrapped both arms around Seamus' waist, and clamped the standing boy to him, his face buried in Seamus' brown pubic bush. Although he choked and seemed to struggle to take the boy's big organ down his throat he was relentless in his effort, and was soon rewarded.
"YAH! YAH! YAH! YAH!" chanted Seamus as he blasted his load past the Stranger's mouth and straight down his throat.
No sooner had the boy stopped thrusting than the Stranger pulled off his glistening organ, dragged him down onto the bed and lay beside him. He gestured to Dean, who aligned himself with the other two.
"Do me," he requested with hoarse urgency.
In response the two boys simultaneously turned their attention to the Stranger's glistening cock.
"Here, let's . . . " Seamus grabbed a corner of the rumpled bedsheet and carefully wiped the Stranger's cock with it. "Don't wanna get a mouthful of lube, and . . . and whatever else . . . "
The two boys chuckled and then immediately went to town on the Stranger. Dean tucked himself against him and immediately jammed the plum-sized cockhead into his mouth. Meanwhile Seamus, lying halfway onto the Stranger, began rubbing his lips up and down the length of the organ, at the same time cupping and caressing the Stranger's balls in their loose sack.
The Stranger's cock had lost little of its hardness after slipping out of Dean's rear end, and before long his two friends' ministrations had it stretched out to its full dimensions, a remarkable club on a relatively small, trim body, glowing a dull, inflamed purple-red.
The Stranger was obviously a well-trained young wizard who must have long since learned the ancient breath control and mindfulness techniques for delaying ejaculation that he had been taught in third-year Sex Magic class. Still, he was using no charm or potion to assist him and so it wasn't long before his friends' valiant efforts had their desired effect. Gasping more and more frantically, the muscles of his narrow belly clenching, his eyes squeezed shut, his long locks tossing from side to side, his hands clutching at the sheet beneath him, he rode the sexual high as his climax approached.
"Ugh! Unghh!" he gurgled.
"Yeah? Yeah?" Seamus cried.
"Yuh," the Stranger huffed. "I'm -- YAAAAAHHH!!" His cry was a climactic half-gasp, half-scream.
The boy's body snapped up off the bed as his orgasm hit him. Every part of his body was suddenly rigid. His muscles, his ribs, his tendons stood out like ridges on a relief map, a map of a land of mystery and flesh. Dean pulled off his swollen cock and began flailing it madly. Seamus tugged roughly on his balls while at the same time lunging for a nipple and clasping it between his teeth.
"You love this!" he managed to cry, his teeth tugging the Stranger's swollen brown nub out from his chest.
The Stranger bucked furiously once again and then it began. A volley of semen that would have overflowed a tablespoon shot nearly to his breastbone, and then, as Dean redoubled his efforts, a second volley sprayed up and completely over one shoulder, a bottled-up river of wizard spunk. Again and again the boy's body snapped to rigidity, and again and again silver semen flew from his cock, a remarkable amount even for a wizard.
Finally he was finished. His body sank with a great groan back onto the bed. Seamus released his now rather distended nipple.
The three boys lay for a while sprawled out on the bed, depleted. Eventually, they dragged themselves up. Without a word Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Harry Potter slowly dressed and left the room for a well-earned Hogwarts lunch.