Author's note: Please, do not continue reading if you are in any way put off by incest...specifically, Dudarry (Dudley & Harry)! One Wiseacre Werds requested this one, so it's his fault, not mine!

Oh, and I own neither of these characters - that's J. K. Rowling!

Dudley put his face to the warmness of the guy's chest. He rested there as the guy stood for him, obediantly. The deep breathing of his diaphragm was relaxing. But the thump, thump, thump of his heart roused the passion in Dudley. It was too much like the thump, thumping of the lovers next door. Seven minutes in Heaven, indeed...

Now as his hand slipped the obediant young man's trouser zip, the wetness of Dudley's excitement melted onto the seat. The crotchless boxers let the tip of his cock be further aroused by the coldness of the stone beneath, working gently as he leaned into his reluctant lover's body.

Dudley trembled as he slipped his lover's trousers down. He stepped out of them, participating more now in the act.

Dudley knelt.

As lightly as a feather, his fingers slid over the outline of his companion's male form, tracing the elongated shape, the two large mobile eggs hanging in a silky purse. The guy sighed. As he began to swell to Dudley's caresses, he moved himself against his hand.

Dudley thrilled. He had a male, albeit a young one, responding to his hand. He felt a sense of power and elation.

Quickly he shed his faceless lover's shirt. Next he pulled down his boxers, inch by trembling inch.

As the red head of his swelling organ emerged above the elasticated top, Dudley leaned forward and kissed it, closing his eyes.

Now stark naked, the young man swayed against Dudley. He ringed his rapidly burgeoning erection, working it gently as the guy moved. Milking it upwards Dudley watched with wonder as the glans retracted between his coital thumb and fingers, only to emerge again as he skinned it down. Each time the head appeared, as if fucking his fingers, Dudley kissed the eye.

Now he was hard and he moaned with every slow masturbation. Dudley marvelled at the solidness of the organ in his hands. It was the first erect penis he'd touched, other than his own.

Now the faceless lover thrust forward, thrusting harder with every stroke. As the head came through, Dudley put his tongue to the under-side, to the little web of skin beneath the deeply-grooved head.

Without warning there was a spasm. he had not known the signs. With one last thrust between his fingers, a fountain of hot thick liquid shot out over his face.

Dudley watched with fascination as it pumped, spurt after spurt, over his neck, to trickle under his shirt, and down his own thumping chest.

The head now large, the single eye was wide open, pulsing strongly in his hand, even though the impetuous gush had now ceased.

Once again, Dudley kissed the eye, tasting for the first time the saltiness of fluid on his lips. Cupping his tight-drawn weighty eggs in the palm of his hand, Dudley kissed the virgin stem repeatedly, from cherry tip to base.

Gradually he rose, his lips still moving over the tight young body, until his reached the lips of his lover.

They were quivering.

Dudley touched them lightly with his own, still white with salty milt.

Suddenly, the guy pulled away. He bent, picked up his clothes, grabbed his glasses, and ran.

Wait.

Glasses?

Dudley looked back at the retreating male stranger. As the door to the bedroom slowly closed from the momentum, he could just barely make out a head of messy, jet-black hair, green eyes...and a pair of familiar round spectacles.

Shit!

I think I might've liked it...maybe just a little...