The Tale of a Very Long Tongue | By : Keshu Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2458 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
No, these characters/creations aren't mine, shutup.
In other news: Ye gods, I'm sorry. It's short, it's silly and yeah. Squick me harder, baby.
Keshu...
PS. for all those who can't remember:
The Puffskein is found worldwide. Spherical in shape and coveredin soft, custard-coloured fur, it is a docile creature that has no objection to being coloured or thrown about. Easy to care for, it emits a low humming noise when contented. From time to time a very long, thin, pink tongue will emerge from the depths of the Puffskein and snake about the house searching for food. The Puffskein is a scavenger that will eat anything from leftovers to spiders, but it has a particular preference for sticking its tongue up the nose of sleeping wizards and eating their bogies. This tendency has made the Puffskein much beloved by wizarding children for many generations and it remains a highly popular wizarding pet.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them, JK Rowling
Ron twisted and turned in his bed, the blanket and sheets sticking to his sweaty legs and thighs. Naked, he pushed his blanket to the floor and lay in the heated moistness of his room, panting and drifting in and out of a light doze. His head was pounding in the excessive heat and he finally threw the sheets to the floor as well and lay exposed to whatever cool air could reach him through the fully open window.
He turned over on his side, running an exasperated hand through his hair, which he’d let grow over the summer, for some unfathomable reason. He found himself thinking about roughly hacking it off, but recoiled instantly. Instead, he got up and walked over to the window, plunging his hands into the bowl of charmed water there. He sighed as the blessed coolness washed over his wrists.
Suddenly, Ron jumped, his heart beating wildly, as something long and sinewy touched his leg. He clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle his scream as it started moving around on his foot, and then sighed in relief and almost laughed as he realised what it was.
When Ron was 9, he had been given a Puffskein as a birthday present. And he’d loved that little Puffskein more than anything; cuddling it and feeling it vibrate very slightly against his chest as it hummed contentedly, and he’d always woken up when it had tried to stick it’s tongue up his nose in search of succulent bogies, and he’d always been thoroughly amused with it.
And then Fred had used it for Bludger practice. And the nine-year-old Ron had cried and cried, but nothing could replace that little Puffskein, not even when Percy gave Ron his pet rat, Scabbers. Until Fred, in an effort to make Ron finally totally forgive in, gave him another Puffskein after he’d graduated from Hogwarts, to keep him company in his new flat, away from the Burrow.
Ron, having cooled his hands and wrists and, hopefully, some of the blood flowing through his body, climbed back into bed, the Puffskein tongue licking at his feet occasionally as it wound around his room looking for food. He lay back again, and closed his eyes, and then jumped as the tongue touched his knee and travelled up his thigh. He wriggled, and then pushed it off, frowning slightly, part of his repulsed at the idea forming in his head and part of him slavering for the contact, which had been absent for so long. He laid back again, but the tongue lapped his way up his legs insistently, little soft touches here and there on his burning skin and, in spite of himself, he moaned and shifted and hardened under the gentle touch.
He pressed his hands flat into the mattress as those little flickering touches crept higher onto his body, and gasped loudly as it touched his inner thigh and slid up to his balls. Just as Ron was wondering about the mechanics of receiving head from a Puffskein, the tongue eased gently up the underside of his cock and flicked at the tip, before finding nothing of interest there and sliding down again and between his buttocks, flickering around his entrance and eliciting a hoarse moan.
The thin, muscular tongue danced around Ron’s anus, and then darted inside. Ron’s eyes popped open in surprise and he involuntarily spread his legs slightly. He gasped out loud as it began to move inside him, caressing him deeper than even a wand had gone. He bit his lip to stifle his moans of pleasure as it began to move inside him with even, rhythmic strokes, sucking slightly on his inner walls. Ron barely noticed that he’d moved his own hand up and was stroking his cock at the same pace, his hips bucking slightly as the tongue wound around his insides. He moved his hand faster, the other coming up to cup his balls, caressing himself. His breath came faster and faster, and beads of sweat started to dot the edges of his hairline and he moaned as the tongue touched the bundle of nerves that ended it all and he came, moaning loudly, over his stomach. The tongue worked in him for a moment longer, before it slowly withdrew and slid down the side of his bed to rummage in the dust there, leaving Ron gasping and sweaty and exhausted.
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