Having passed Cho Chang in the corridor, Harry Had a 5 minute walk through ornately decorated hallways, towering suits of armor and statues of famous witches and wizards that often seemed in the corner of his eye like they were filled with the same essence of life as the paintings surrounding them. He spent this time thinking about Cho, as he often did these days.
What would she look like with water running down her bare, tan chest, surrounded by other Ravenclaws in the girl’s bathing room. What tight figure swayed and bounced under her flowing robes as she hurried toward charms class, keen to avoid a reprimand. Harry even wondered what she had done with Cedric when they were together. Though a wave of grief and pain spread through his chest at the first thought of it, it was soon replaced by a certain numbness, and wonder about whether she ran her fingers through his flowing hair as she thrusted her hips back and forth over his waist, the head of his teenage cock rubbing precisely and delightfully repeatedly over her g-spot in the throws of her first orgasm? If he got the chance, could Harry make her cum like Cedric could, or would she think of Cedric while Harry did his best to live up to his rumored sexual prowess?
Harry felt himself quickly throbbing toward a full erection and with some effort to be casual about it, he tucked his penis up into the waistband of his tightening underwear so that it would be inconspicuous as he passed through the Gryffindor Common Room. He was pleased to find his dormitory empty. Ron, Neville and his other roommates must be elsewhere in the castle, maybe playing wizard’s chess in the great hall or strolling the grounds. He knew he would be able to hear the portrait hole swing open and footsteps on the stairs leading up to the boys dormitory if any of them returned, so he could safely masturbate in private and be able to hide it in the worst case scenario.
As he approached his bunk, he noticed a new chair sitting snuggly in the corner. In the years he had lived in this dormitory, the best home he had ever known, nothing had changed. From the rug on the ground, to the drapes over the windows, one of which had a slight burn-mark toward the bottom where a then-student, now-headmaster had accidentally lit them on fire, to the large wardrobe which held all of their possessions, everything was the same. But here, now, this new chair sat unceremoniously as if the house elves delivered them an unexpected gift. After staring at it for a minute, Harry decided to ask the guys about it alter and ignored the chair which seemed to sit pointed straight at his bunk as he slid out of his robes and down to his underwear, grabbed his want and laid atop the blankets of his bed.
Harry parted the overlapping flaps of his underwear and pulled his semi-hard cock and tightening balls through the hole so that as he stopped holding the front of his underwear apart it contracted like a loose cock ring. He had always been confident in his size, though he wasn’t huge. He had a nicely shaped head, the top of which curved inward and back up into the ridge at the base of the head in a way that made it look stylish. The rim of the head met the smooth skin of his cock on the bottom just under the head, and there. extending down the length of the bottom of his cock, where he had so often imagined Cho’s tongue running slowly, was a vein in the shape of a lightening bolt. The scar was more famous, but this was Harry’s favorite mark left by the curse that night in Godric’s Hollow.
As he felt the blood rushing into his cock and his scrotum tightening in a pleasant way, he slid off his underwear. He grabbed his want, pointed it at the tip of his dick and whispered, “Lubario.” Out of the tip of his wand a shimmering stream of lube snaked around and down his cock, the magical lube was perfect and lasted as long as the wizard wanted.
Harry had many a night thrown on his dad’s invisibility cloak and snuck down to the library to enter the restricted section and head directly to the books containing sexual spells. There were spells in those books which at first he could not believe. The boundaries which were pushed by witches and wizards in the pursuit of pleasure enhanced by magic knew nearly no limits. Everything from temporarily changing one’s genitals to the opposite sex, to engorging certain parts of the body, to creating sensations with the tip of one’s wand were to be found in this collection of books.
Harry had mastered only the most simple of these spells, spending hours in the little-used lavatory where he, Ron and Hermione had first created Polyjuice Potion, where he had uncovered the truth behind the clue-containing golden egg, and where Moaning Myrtle called home. He would sneak off to the library, discover a new sexual spell, memorize its name, wand movement and use, and rush off to this bathroom to try it out. At first he couldn’t feel comfortable when Myrtle was around, but once he realized she would not share his secret, he found that it was a turn-on to know this ghost sad watching from above as he explored his boyhood and advanced in the magic of pleasuring oneself.
Now, in his bed, he decided to try out a spell which had worked for him only a couple times before. Difficult to perfect, but incredibly impactful, Harry rolled over onto his stomach with his legs apart and his knees bent so that his feet were up in the air and his back was slightly arched. Slowly, he placed the tip of his want at the smooth, tight entrance to his ass. Allowing the slightest amount of smooth, cold wood to enter his rim, he whispered, “prostatum throbis.”
Instantly his breath was swept from his lungs as he removed his want and felt his prostate begin to expand and contract, vibrating and pulsating in unpredictable, nearly violent movements. He grabbed the sheets and struggled not to scream as his ass throbbed as though Cedric himself was thrusting with gusto as hard and as deep as possible. The feeling extended to his hole, feeling himself clamp down on what it wished was a thick wizard cock, hungrily and greedily contracting to Harry’s immense pleasure.
He had not even touched his penis and he was on the edge. He knew that a prostate orgasm was going to rock throughout his body and send him into a euphoric overdrive like he had never been able to achieve with this spell before. He arched his back so that his now throbbing cock only hit the sheets as gravity dragged it back down after a large throb shot it skyward, and he gave in. He allowed himself to ooze shot after shot of hot cum onto his sheets and dripping down his own balls, which now hugged his body tightly. His prostate gave one final lurch which caused another massive emission from his cock and then fell silent, as if it was satisfied with its performance and now needed a rest.
It was in this moment that Harry thought he saw that strange, new chair shift in place. It looked closer than it did when Harry walked in. He chalked this up to his pleasure-induced delusion and, too tired to clean the cum from his sheets, felt it coat his stomach as he collapsed down, pulled a sheet over him, and fell asleep.
To be continued. . .