Harry Potter masturbation | By : Turais Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 8371 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor any of its characters nor am I profiting from this in anyway. |
Chapter 1: Nighttime
Harry Potter was back with his relatives in Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry himself hated summer because his friends and Hogwarts were switched out with his awful relatives and the prison that was Privet Drive no. 4. The best thing about this summer however was that he could threaten them with his godfather Sirius Black who he managed to save with his friend Hermione at the end of last school year. It meant that his uncle and aunt left him alone, even his cousin Dudley ignored him. It was the first time ever that Harry hadn’t gotten a list of chores to do and he was grateful. It also meant that he had a lot of time alone with nothing to do, time he mostly spent in his room away from his family.
Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin. He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other hand reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window.
Harry ran his fingers over the scar again. It was still painful. He turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened his wardrobe, and peered into the full-body mirror on the inside of the door. A boy of thirteen, soon to be fourteen, looked back at him, his bright green eyes puzzled under his untidy black hair. He examined the lightning-bolt scar of his reflection more closely. It looked normal, but it was still stinging, though not as bad as before. He couldn’t remember the dream at all. His pale complexion stood in contrast to his black hair. He traced his finger along his high cheekbones and down to his plumb rosy lips. He stuck his tongue out and couldn’t help giggle at his own childishness. He took a step back and looked at his reflection in the mirror, his body on display.
Harry was shorter than most his age and was rather skinny, he usually slept in only his underwear and today was no different. He looked at his pale unblemished skin, narrow waist and flat stomach, his chest with two small pink nibbles. Harry thought he looked a little girly and too feminine for a boy, he didn’t have any muscles or any body hair, which he associated with being male and growing up. His hands moved downwards over his stomach and he quickly pushed down his briefs. Harry tilted his head and looked meaningfully at his flaccid penis in the mirror. He knew it wasn’t very big, he had measured it once this summer both while it was soft and hard. It was only three inches now, laying against his balls.
Harry was proud of the hairs he had grown down there. At the base of his dick there was a smattering of dark pubic hair. It was the only body hair he had except for the hair on his head, it had started growing after Christmas during the school year. He hoped it would grow faster. He thought it would be cool to have a full bush of pubes above his penis and some hair under his armpits, like he had seen some of the other boys have in the showers after quidditch practice. Harry slowly wrapped his hand around his penis and peeled back his foreskin until his glans was on display. Harry loved the feeling when he touched himself. It was only this summer he had started doing it.
One morning he had woken with a gasp and when he looked down his boxers where soiled and sticking to his skin and there where stains of semen on his sheets. He knew it was his first orgasm, and from what he had learned from the Play-wizard magazine Fred and George had shown him before summer, his own ejaculation that had made such a mess. He of course quickly tried to clean his semen up and the stains on his bed, so his aunt wouldn’t notice when she changed them. To his horror he only managed to rub it out more and it was already drying making it harder to hide. He ended up leaving his soiled boxers under his bed, there was no way in hell he was handing those over to his aunt when laundry day came around, luckily, he had two extra pair of briefs from last year, they were a bit small but better than nothing, and he had been happy to get Dudley’s old pair of boxers at the start of the summer holidays, because no one else in his dorm at Hogwarts wore briefs anymore. He just had to endure handing over his stained sheets, which was bad enough.
Just thinking of his first orgasm was enough to give Harry a hard on. After that morning he usually ended up having a wank at least once a day unless he wanted to wake up to sticky sheets. It seemed the more he played with himself the hornier he got. He didn’t really understand it and didn’t have any he could ask but at least he had learned enough by himself to make it pleasurable.
He looked in the mirror and his small dick was standing proud on its own. He knew his erection was almost five inches. He resumed to masturbate, and his right hand was going up and down his shaft, while his left sneaked down and took a hold of his balls. Harry gasped and knew he was close. He movements speed up, his foreskin going back and forth over the head of his penis. He looked at himself in the mirror, flushed and panting, naked with his underwear pooled around his feet. His left hand sneaked down behind his balls, and his fingers probed his arse. Harry felt naughty, this was something he hadn’t done before.
He knew it was wrong, touching himself back there. He knew nothing was supposed to go up there, but it felt nice. His finger sneaked up and lightly touched his arsehole. He moaned out loud, knowing his relatives was asleep and he was too far gone in his own pleasure to care anyway. His finger slowly traced around his anus, before he slowly pushed against it. When his finger breached his muscle and slowly slid in to the first knuckle, he moaned again, his hole felt tight around his finger. Harry felt his orgasm take over.
He grunted out loud as his dick pulsed in his hand and the first jet of cum shot out, landing on the mirror. The second wasn’t nearly as powerful and landed somewhere below. Harry felt good and kept milking his dick for every drop of semen. It was running over his hands down on his balls. He slowly removed the finger from his behind, sighing softly. It hadn’t been all the way in, something he thought he would try next time. He looked down at his hands and the mess he had made. This was always the worst part, making sure no one could find out what he had been doing. He slowly bought his come covered hand up to his face, when a sudden thought entered his mind.
‘I wonder what my cum taste like’ Harry thought. He knew this was even naughtier than having a finger up his bum, so he couldn’t help himself. His hand moved toward his lips and he stuck his tongue out. Slowly licking his finger and tasting his own semen. ‘Not good, but not that bad either’ he thought, it actually almost tasted like some of the Bertie Botts every flavor beans he had had last year and didn’t know what was supposed to be, he made a mental note to try out any white or translucent beans next time to see if it was the same. This brought a smile to his face, he couldn’t help but think it was rather perverse to have cum flavored candy. After he had licked his fingers clean, and with the taste of himself still on his tongue he bent down and pulled up his briefs. He reached under his bed to take the soiled boxers he now used to clean up with. It was getting stiffer because he had used it as a cleaning rag every time he made a mess for the last two weeks or so. He wiped the mirror in the closet clean and threw the cum rag under his bed again for next time. He made his way back to his bed and fell asleep on his still stain covered sheets with a satisfied smile on his lips.
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