Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Neighbourhood Whore	By : Sabb402 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 195019 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor its characters. Basically nothing you recognise is mine. I'm not making any money from this etc. Read the warnings!

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Disclaimer: I own nothing but what I write and I'm not making any money from this.
Warnings: usual sex shenanigans and autofellatio
Enjoy

Harry wanted to stay up. And he could be stubborn when he had reason to, so he told himself he would not fall asleep, and was prepared to stick to it. He had smuggled in Dudley’s almost-broken wristwatch just for the occasion, and he had every intention of staying awake until midnight. It would be hard, but after that nap at Mr Holmes’s, he thought it was doable.
Even outside the reinvigorating nap, he had enjoyed the day they spent together, playing with his new toy. It had been... so intense, but not in a bad way, and his neighbour had looked after him and sent him away only after feeding him some more.
Feeling positive, he imagined that if he finished his chores quickly the following day, it wouldn’t be impossible to get to n. 3 by mid-morning. If the previous weeks had taught him anything, he thought he would enjoy his birthday very much at Mr Holmes’s, but he had still decided to greet the 31 st by himself.
It was a nice tradition, one he had thought of all on his own, to wish himself a happy birthday at midnight.
He was going to be 7 in less than an hour and the last few months had felt like the best of his life.
It was thanks to Mr Holmes that he had clothes that fit him and even a toy, even if not one he had ever heard about. It was clearly an adult toy, and just thinking about it made him squirm a little.
Thinking about any of what he’d done with Mr Holmes made him squirm. And made him hot. If he put a hand on his chest, he could feel his heart beating just a little faster than normal, and if he dragged his hand down…
He shouldn’t.
Or, well, he thought he shouldn’t.
It seemed one of those things Aunt Petunia would scold him for.
But his Aunt was sleeping and Mr Holmes seemed to enjoy touching him… He was just curious. It couldn’t be that bad to just- slip a hand under his t-shirt a bit, could it?
At first, he didn’t feel anything. He thought maybe he just couldn’t see the appeal. Mr Holmes seemed to like putting his hands all over him, and when the man did Harry enjoyed it as well… The big, warm hands caressing his belly, those clever fingers passing over his- oh.
All right. He felt something now. As he recalled all of Mr Holmes’s favourite spots to touch and tease, he got rid of his t-shirt as quickly as he could, not caring where it ended up in the small, enclosed space of the cupboard under the stairs.
As he dragged his fingers over his skin and savoured the feeling, he kept going lower and lower until he met an impediment. And that couldn’t do.
He had just wiggled out of his pants and lightly placed a hand on his little member when the memories of that time Mr Holmes made him put a finger in himself assaulted him and he flushed all over.
It had felt strange… but also very good.
The only problem he could see, as he lightly traced around his puckered hole, was that he didn’t have any… supplies. But he pressed on and the tip of his pointer finger got in. He slowly started wiggling it as much as he could, but it was way more uncomfortable than when Mr Holmes did it.
He reflected that it probably was because he had no slick to use. Mr Holmes put a lot of the clear stuff on his fingers when he wanted in, and it made things so much easier. So he put the first two fingers of his right hand into his mouth and attempted to cover them in as much saliva as he could, to try and remedy. He left them wet and dripping and brought them back quickly to his bum so he didn’t lose the moisture. Trying to move them inside like that helped, but it was a considerable effort, not as pleasurable as what he was used to.
He gave it up for the moment, concentrating more on stroking his little cock, which felt very good, though even that wasn’t perfect. He couldn’t help but remember the way Mr Holmes would often take his member all in his mouth, caressing it with his tongue and enclosing it in wet heat.
Maybe, if he stretched a little more…
With the idea firmly in his mind, Harry tried to fold himself as much as he could and, upon discovering that he could, in fact, reach his little cock, didn’t hesitate to pop it in his mouth and suck.
It felt wonderful. He could move his tongue around as he did for Mr Holmes, suck on the head and bob up and down a little. His warm saliva kept escaping the seal of his lips to run down, all over his cock and to his balls. He took them in his hand like Mr Holmes sometimes did, and rolled them with the utmost care, not wanting to tug because that hurt. But he couldn’t stay focused on all the feelings at the same time, and soon chose to care more about the way his tongue felt against his foreskin than what his hands were doing.
When he wanted to get a little deeper, he had to take hold of his thigh, using it as a prop to pull himself further down. He took even more inside his mouth in that way, it didn’t stretch his lips a lot like Mr Holmes’s cock did, and he was glad he had learned to be very careful with his teeth. The hours of practice served him well as he moved his tongue around in all the ways he had learned how.
His muscles trembling, he pointed his tongue, dragged it around the head, over the foreskin, and drank down the pearls pre-cum that slowly spilled. It felt like heat and like electricity, like a force that started around his member and enveloped his whole body until something gave and he couldn’t do anything at all. His little cock popped out of his mouth, his muscles tightened and released and he had to bit his lower lip hard to keep from whimpering.
As his thin white come sprouted from the head, he did his best to concentrate once more and suck it all down, trying to prevent making a mess all over.
He was only partially successful. Having to clean himself up, he slowly and languidly gathered the white marks with his fingers, dragging those over his tongue for lack of a flannel.
In the end, he was a little sore from pushing and bending his body in less than comfortable positions to reach his little cock, but his mouth and lips didn’t even tingle – which they did when he made his neighbour come like that.
He raised his arms up and stretched all the way out on his ratty mattress, then rolled around to burrow himself under the light sheet so he could go boneless in the wake of his orgasm.
A glimpse at the watch let him know that he had only a few minutes to wait before the clock struck midnight. He was eager to turn 7 as he had never been on any previous birthday... It was partly because seven sounded so much cooler than six, but mostly thanks to the fact that this was the first year he knew to expect sincere birthday wishes from someone. With the Dursleys it could only go two ways, as he was either ignored or picked on more than usual, but Mr Holmes had promised him a nice day, and for once, he believed what an adult had told him.
As the longer, thinner hand of the clock joined the other one on 12, Harry closed his eyes tight, made a wish and blew on pretend-candles.
He couldn’t wait until morning.

The next day he woke up bright and early − or, rather, his Aunt awakened him by rapping on the door at an ungodly hour of the morning. But it was all right, he was used to getting up early, and not even preparing a full English breakfast for his relatives, without getting even a scrap himself, managed to bring down his spirits. Had the memory of what he had done the previous night not been enough, knowing that soon he would be able to escape n. 4 for the much more welcoming n. 3 was a big relief.
No one mentioned his birthday as he served eggs, bacon, and all the trimmings, and other than ordering him to clean everything up when they finished, no one even talked to him. He cleared the table of all leftovers, put them in the fridge, washed the dishes, even swept and mopped the floor in complete tranquillity when Aunt Petunia told him to.
As soon as she dismissed him, which in this particular occasion took the form of shooing him out of the house with a kitchen rag, Harry tightened the laces of his ratty shoes and started running around the Dursleys’ house towards n. 3. He stopped only to look both ways before crossing the street, then jogged all the way to the front door and knocked softly, shifting his weight from his heels to his toes and back again as he waited.
He wasn’t even panting. And he had always been a fast runner (he had to be to survive when Dudley chased him), but one thing he had noticed since he started going to Mr Holmes’s was that he had way more energy than before. It was true that after he and Mr Holmes made each other feel good, he was usually sleepy and had either a nap or a bit of a lie-down, but, in general, he just felt so energised! He thought it had to be thanks to all the food he was eating, and maybe even because of his mood, as he couldn’t remember another time in his life in which he had felt so happy for so long. He had thought he could be happy when he started primary school, but Dudley’s bullying had quickly dashed every hope of making friends.
His morose mood had no time to set in, Mr Holmes opened the door with his usual soft smile, his curls looking damp and unstyled, like they usually were only after a hot bath.
He was welcomed in with no fuss, but once the door had closed, Mr Holmes bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek! The man said happy birthday and guided him with a hand on his shoulder all the way to the kitchen where a big lid hid something on a round platter. The man ushered him to a seat, got plates and utensils for them both and uncovered… A cake! A great, big cake with chocolate and strawberries on top!
“There you go now, a big breath and a wish.”
He felt so excited. Harry had to force himself to stop staring at Mr Holmes to follow his directions. Averting his eyes was a terribly difficult thing, and he could only imagine what a silly expression he must have, as shocked as he felt. But he didn’t want wax to drip on… on his cake , so he breathed in and, for the first time he could remember, he blew out the candles for his birthday.
Not even Uncle Vernon barging in with his puce-y face could have removed the grin from his face, not when Mr Holmes clapped, and least of all when he cut up a slice for each of them. And the chocolate melted in his mouth and the strawberries tasted as fresh as he’d ever eaten.

When they finally retreated from the kitchen, he was feeling full and content, and Mr Holmes had to pick him up and give him a lot of kisses with tongue to help him deal with the traces of cream on his lips. Of course he blushed, a bit embarrassed to make a mess at his age (he was seven today! That was only three years away from double digits!), but not at all mad at the result.
They settled on their couch and Mr Holmes handed him a colourfully wrapped package, more square than the one he had gotten yesterday, and a little heavier.
Harry didn’t waste time and started carefully opening it right away. It wasn’t a box as he had received the day before, but a thick book with an interesting cover, with strange creatures on the bottom, flowers at the top, and The Neverending Story in gold lettering in the middle.
“They’ve made a film of this, a few years ago, but reading the novel first is always more rewarding. I know my nephew enjoyed it when he read it not too long ago, but he’s older than you, so don’t hesitate to come to me if you don’t understand something.”
“I… I will. Thank you so much, Mr Holmes.” He was so grateful, he hugged the book to his chest, already thinking hard about how to hide his new treasure. The Dursleys weren’t fond of having books in the house, even if he remembered Aunt Petunia trying to read to Dudley a fair bit before he put his foot down on not wanting it to cut in his television time. Harry knew there were some books in his cousin’s room, but he wasn’t supposed to touch them, even when they had been left around and he was supposed to be tidying up.
Now he had a book that was all his, though, and he didn’t want his relatives to touch it.
He hugged his new present to his chest, smiled brightly at his neighbour and tilted his head up. He couldn’t possibly be bold enough to initiate anything, he couldn’t be sure that what he was doing would please the man, but he could make it easier if Mr Holmes wanted to be kissed thank you. It had seemed something he enjoyed, and frankly, it was the least Harry could do.
Mr Holmes’s eyes almost sparkled as he smirked and took the timid offer, burying his long fingers in the boy’s messy hair and dragging him up a bit, so he could join their lips together and be comfortable as he slipped his tongue in the soft, pliant mouth.
They kissed lazily for a few minutes, then Mr Holmes moved slightly away, still close enough for his breath to warm Harry’s lips.
“How about we play with yesterday’s gift?”

(4th anniversary! I answer reviews and questions here -> http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/63461-neighbourhood-whore-reviews-replies/)
Next chapter will pick up right where this left off ;)
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Neighbourhood Whore