It was nine in the morning. Harry and Ron were asleep on Ron's bed, both fully dressed. They had had a late night getting drunk off Firewhiskey and Coke and had passed out around two in the morning. Left alone, neither would have woken up until past noon. Ron would have that luxury.
Harry felt a soft hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake.
"Harry. . ." came a voice, gentle and coaxing. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead."
Blearily, Harry came to, and when he opened his eyes started violently, backing onto his elbows.
"Molly!" he said
Mrs. Weasley giggled. "Not so loud, Harry, love. You'll wake Ron."
Mrs. Weasley was standing over the side of the bed, buck naked, freckled, milky skin glowing in the sunlight from the windows. Her body was curvaceous, tits pendulous and ripe, swaying with the puffy nipples, and the hips wide, wide, wide, with the forest of red nestled in the V of her crotch.
"Jesus!" Harry said, taking in the sight of her thick voluptuous body, before looking questioningly at her son snoring on his stomach beside him.
"Don't worry about him, love." Molly raised her wand. "He won't wake for a tuba after this." Bright pink light erupted from the wand, hitting Ron in the back, and it looked like he fell even more asleep, snores coming deeper and slower.
"Sleeping charm," she explained.
"Ah," Harry said.
Molly plopped her torso onto the bed, bending over its side, presenting her gigantic ass outwards.
"Now get up and stuff this pussy, dear. And don't worry about the noise; Artie's gone to work."
Harry grinned wolfishly, hopping out of bed and unbuckling his jeans. "If you insist. . ." he said. She wriggled her ass invitingly, rippling the supple flesh. He dropped his pants and gitch to the floor, coming around behind her, staring at the most beautiful, womanly rear, meaty pussy lips nestled in the red forest between her cheeks, the cheeks acting like a target for his attention, with the pussy its bullseye. Harry's cock was hard and pointing straight at it. He put his hands on her hips and, squatting, brought the head to bear on her cunt, running it up and down her labia, teasing, making her moan.
"Oh, don't make me wait, dear! Been thinking about this the past two hours."
Harry wasn't one to make a lady wait. He thrust, and slid right in, Molly exceedingly wet. His head and shaft were immersed in the warm embrace of her cunt as he mounted her her ass.
"Oh, Harry!"
Now he pulled back, then slammed it home again. He started fucking her, pounding in and out of her seasoned cunt, slamming into her pillowy ass which rippled with every impact while his hands explored her creamy back with the lovely Venus dimples as Ron snored obliviously.
Molly moaned steadily, face contorted with agony. She grabbed Ron's sleeping leg as he fucked her.
"Hard and fast, dear! Hard and fast! Ooh!"
Harry obeyed, obliterating her. It was a great way to start the day, slamming this giant ass, hearing this beautiful woman moan beneath him. Molly was practically screaming by this point. She peeled back a leg of Ron's jeans and bit into the calf.
"I'm gonna fill you up!" Harry said. "I'm gonna fill you up!"
"Do it!" Molly screamed. "Fill me right up!"
He slapped her huge rump, and she squealed with delight.
Harry accelerated as she arched back into him. He moaned and roared as he felt the orgasm begin, as the little-death seized him, and he froze with his cock entirely embedded, throwing his head back.
"That's it!" Molly said. "Gimme that spunk, dear!"
Harry came hard, exploding inside of her. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth with ecstasy.
Molly was smiling as the boy on top of her trembled and groaned. "Good, good, dear. That's it. Give it all to me."
Harry's payload delivered, he gave a few more thrusts, watching his veiny shaft vanish into the pink pussy as her ass bounced, before collapsing onto her back, catching his breath.
"Did you come?" he asked.
"No, but it's alright." She reached forward and pulled Ron's pant leg back down, hiding the bite mark. "We'll have plenty of time for that."
Harry removed himself from her pussy with a wet shlurp, lips clinging to his shaft. He kneeled and planted his palms on her cheeks, parting the pussy lips with his thumbs, spotting the creampie deep inside the pink, ribbed canal. He let the beefy lips snap shut, gave them a lick for good measure, and stood up. So did Molly. They exchanged smiling kisses.
"I think it's only right," she said, "that we relieve your. . . situation, twice daily, if not more."
He let his hands fondle her huge, drooping tits, squeezing them, playing with them. "More is good."
"Later will be hard. . ." she said. "The house will be full. George is apparating in for supper—hasn't quite got cooking down. Hermione and Ron will be here. . . Artie, Ginny. . . Maybe Percy."
Harry bent down and sucked a puffy nipple. "Well, then, we'll just have to be careful." He licked and sucked and kissed. Suddenly his face lit up. "I've got an idea."
"What?" she asked.
"Still got that stool, right?"
After a moment, Molly nodded. "Yeah, yeah, why—" She stopped mid sentence, staring at Harry with horrified eyes.
"Simply delicious, dear," said Arthur Weasley, stuffing his face with the red, succulent meat his knife had been sawing into bite-sized chunks. "Simply delicious."
Molly Weasley spatulaed more mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Oh, thank you, dear."
It was seven o'clock in the evening. Sitting around the table in the Burrow's kitchen were Mr. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, George, Ginny, Frank and Andromeda Tonks, while Mrs. Weasley patrolled the perimeter, dishing out food. They had only just sat down. It was a few more than Mrs. Weasley had expected, but the plan was still on.
"Wasn't Gertie, was it, mum?" George said, sounding unhappy. "I love Gertie."
"No, no, dear. Samantha."
George sighed. "Thank God for that!"
"How'd you do her in?" Ron said, for which he received a elbow from Hermione.
"He doesn't mean that," she said.
"Course I do," he said. "Only curious. Might have to pop one off myself someday."
Ginny and Frank snickered, but were silenced by a glare from the Weasley parents.
"If you must know. . ." Molly said, dishing more potatoes for Ginny.
"Go on," Ron said.
She sighed exasperatedly. "If you must know, I. . ." She decided it was best to just spit it out. "I cut off her head."
"What!" George said, coughing potatoes onto his plate. "Why didn't you just, you know, Avada her?"
"Oh I hate that dirty curse." She took her seat at the end of the table beside Arthur, who sat at the head. Her back was to the doorway to the den, a position she had chosen on purpose, and unlike everyone else, she wasn't sitting on a chair. She was sitting on a stool.
"I can't believe you chopped off her head," Ginny said.
"If this silly topic doesn't change, I'll be chopping off some of your heads!" Molly said jokingly, and the table hushed. Everyone dug into the food that she, Ginny, Hermione, Andromeda and a learning George had prepared, a delicious feast of creamed corn, mashed potatoes, expensive dragon's tongue (a gift from Charlie) and gnome.
"How is Gertie, mum?" George said. "Getting up there in years, eh? Almost as old as Sam is. Er, was."
"Very old indeed," Mrs. Weasley said, forking creamed corn into her mouth. She swallowed. "Not quite old enough for that, though. We'll probably put her down in—" Her words caught in her throat as she inhaled sharply. Almost imperceptibly, her large, left breast in the green dress was moving, seeming to tense inward then expand.
She coughed a little, continuing, "—put her down in a few weeks. Poor dear—almost never see her anymore. Lays in the shrubs all day and night."
Now her right breast was undulating ever so slightly. She smirked.
It was Harry, of course. He had slunk into the dining room a minute ago under his invisibility cloak, buck naked underneath it except for his slippers, a ratty old pair but they came in handy for such occasions. He 'd enchanted them never to make a sound, whether walking on hard-wood as he was now, or sprinting over gravel. Eerie how silent they made him.
Completely invisible, he hugged Molly from behind, hands fondling her tits. He ground his hard cock into the small of her back.
"And where is Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"Probably hunting dementors again," George said.
"Dunno," Ron said, while Harry squeezed his mother's tits. "Just up and left. Seemed in a hurry, too." He leaned into Hermione's ear and whispered, "Didn't want to meet Frank."
Hermione snickered. Frank was Ginny's new boyfriend.
"He's missing a good meal, I'll tell you that," said Mrs. Weasley, while Harry slow-humped her back.
He retreated a step and took a look at her, admiring her back's graceful curves so feminine in subtle ways. And of course he admired the round ass squatting on the stool, large and plump in the snug skirt, spilling over the end of the circular wooden platform, her crack plain through the fabric.
He crouched and squeezed her cheeks. The signal. She leaned forward over her plate, arching her back and sticking her ass out, presenting it to Harry. Sitting this way, like they had practiced, her pussy was rolled out from under her just enough for Harry to access from behind, if there weren't a dress and panties in the way. Except this wasn't an ordinary dress, and she wasn't wearing panties. The dress, at precisely the location of her cunt, had a cut in it, over which Molly had sewn green fabric by one side, making a female fly of sorts.
Harry, invisible cock level with the pussy patch, scouted the table. The two on their side, Ron and Hermione, were well concerned with their plates and not with the goings on behind Mrs. Weasley. And there was no chance the three on the other side, Ginny, Frank and Andromeda, or George at the end on the right, would see shit. Mr. Weasley was the risk, only three feet away and perpendicular to his wife, and so, leaning slightly, would have a fair view of her backside; but Harry was confident so long as he was careful Arthur would finish his food entirely ignorant of his wife's infidelity.
Harry started to reel up the front of his cloak.
"Thank you again for having me," Andromeda said, sitting opposite Molly. The sister of Bellatrix Lestrange, bearing more than a little resemblance to the woman Molly had killed last year, looked positively run down. She'd had a rough go of it raising her grandson by herself after the deaths of her husband, daughter and son-in-law at the hands of Death Eaters.
"You're more than welcome," Molly said, putting a hand on her forearm.
"Any time," Arthur said.
Andromeda's arrival had been a bit of a surprise earlier in the day, showing up with her year-old grandson Ted Lupin in a carrycot, who presently slept in the den. But guests were always welcome at the Burrow, undoubtedly why the place was buzzing all the time.
Meanwhile, Harry pinched the hem of his cloak just beneath the balls. He held his breath, then slowly raised it over his dick, letting it fall around the base, suspended by his erection. The effect was amazing. Looking down through the cloak hugging his face, Harry saw his cock n' balls floating in mid air directly behind Mrs. Weasley, close enough to her back to be out of Mr. Weasley's view. He mashed his dick between her cheeks, gently fucking them up and down.
Molly was incredibly horny, enjoying his hard dick between her cheeks. She looked forward to him sticking it in. She was nervous, of course, and jumped a little when a salt-sprinkler in front of her levitated, whizzing over to George who snatched it out of the air.
"George, no magic at the table," Mr. Weasley said.
"Sorry, Dad."
Harry opened her fly with his invisible thumbs, unable to see it from this angle as it was under the crack of her ass, finding it by touch. He squatted down, cock n' balls dangling, and extended them towards the newly-created hole. Soon enough he felt his purple crown part the the pussy lips, easily sliding into their warm embrace, continuing half-way into her, enjoying the creamy cunt immensely, letting out the faintest of sighs.
Chewing her dragon's tongue, Molly's eyes took on a glazed, steamy expression as he entered her. She nibbled her lower lip. To Andromeda, the expression looked almost out of place, but the dragon's tongue was heavenly.
Harry's thrust balls-deep, and he rested against her ass, fully immersed. He took a gander around as her heat throbbed around him. Everyone was eating like normal. Ron and Hermione whispered about something. Ginny laughed at one of Frank's jokes. Arthur was chewing the meat off a miniature femur. Harry's cock was deep inside Mrs. Weasley's pussy, and all of them were none the wiser.
Now for the tricky part. He had to fuck her without anyone noticing, and the method he had chosen was to never slam it in, only dip in to the balls then carefully retract. Dip and pull, dip and pull. The noise should be minimal. He locked the cloak over the area of her fly with his thumbs to hide their fucking, and started.
He withdrew slowly, then just as slowly slid back inside her, pussy devouring his cock, none of which he saw take place, but he sure felt it. And he continued to fuck her at this agonizingly slow pace for some minutes with hands on her mighty cheeks parting the fly and Molly's back arching into him. She was wet and horny as hell from the cock invading her body in the company of so many ignorant people.
Arthur noticed she had stopped eating, was staring ahead with a somewhat severe, concentrated expression, brow furrowed, still biting her lower lip.
"Something the matter, dear?" he asked.
She smiled nervously. "Oh, not at all." And she took a sip of her cup of wine.
Harry continued fucking her smooth, creamy pussy in the presence the Weasley family, most of whom had come from that pussy, and then he took a bit of a risk by shoving in fast. Due to the speed, her pussy queefed around his cock, a wet schlurping pussy-fart. Hermione, sitting beside Mrs. Weasley, heard the sound plainly, but accounting it to the normal kind of flatulence and not Mrs. Weasley's vagina swallowing invisible Harry's penis, she ignored it completely.
George craned over the table. "Mum! More dragon's tongue, if you please."
Molly started a bit at herself being called. "Right," she said. "But not too much." Her voice had quavered and squeaked a little, sounding very usual from the authoritative matron. She lifted the small plate of pink meat and passed it to Hermione who passed it to Ron who passed it to George.
Supper carried on. Molly had been chewing the same piece of gnome for some time now, face screwed up like she was containing an internal struggle, when suddenly an exceptionally loud queef filled the room, so loud Hermione, Arthur and Andromeda all turned to look at her. Molly tittered nervously. "Pardon," she said to her napkin. No one had ever heard Molly, of all people, pass gas at the table. It didn't compute. Not knowing what else to do, they ignored it completely.
Molly reached behind her and pinched Harry's invisible leg. Grinning, he slowed his thrusts to minimize future queefs. He was in no hurry, anyway. A slow fuck only drew out the tension, building up the release, though he did want to finish sometime before the plates cleared. Ron's and George's were already half gone.
The queefs were so quiet now only Harry could hear them. The fly, soaked with pussy juice, posed little issue to his dick, so he let his hands drift up her hips and back as he fucked her, and gently palm her tits. He eyed each and every person mischievously as he pumped into the woman on the stool, taunting them invisibly, making all kinds of wild, monkey faces.
Ron whispered to Hermione, "After dinner, you think you could take a look at my leg?"
She swallowed wine. "Whatever for?"
He shook his head. "It's a bruise, I think, a weird one. Right on the calf. Dunno how it happened. Looks like somebody bit me."
She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Sure thing." And they shared smiles. He gave her thigh a grateful squeeze under the table.
Arthur was growing concerned over his wife. She had hardly touched her food since sitting down, and her breathing sounding funny. Also her face was. . . Turmoiled. He was afraid the dragon's tongue wasn't agreeing with her, and Molly didn't appease his concern when the faintest of hums, high and odd, escaped her nose.
"You sure you're alright, dear?" Arthur said quietly. Andromeda and Hermione were starting to notice her state as well, glancing with concern.
"Yes, yes," she said, as Harry glided in and out of her snatch, and his hand squeezed her tit. "Quite alright."
Harry, nervous though he was, was grinning triumphantly. He raised his biceps and flexed them like a strong man. He was loving this, but knew he had to hurry, had to finish soon. Luckily the whole situation was too hot, too stimulating with the whole family right there, and he felt himself getting close. His face scrunched up, and he accelerated, then finally shoved himself into her to the root, coming brilliantly inside of her.
She was jarred from the force of the final thrust, drawing eyes yet again, which she coughed as if to explain. She felt the cock twitching inside of her, emptying itself, filling her up.
Harry did a good job, making not a peep as he came, though his head jerked with spastic pleasure. And soon the last of it delivered and Harry's ecstasy subsided. He withdrew his cock, soaked, comey and invisible, from her cunt, seed stewing deep in the beautiful woman sitting on the stool. She adjusted her ass so she was sitting more upright, rolling the pussy snug beneath her, its fresh deposit locked inside.
Harry caressed her rump and back, then, like a Grinch, crept from the kitchen. Molly was smiling with satisfaction. Arthur was relaxing now that his wife was returning to normal. Hermione was getting drunk. Ron was helping her. George was planning on inventing a magic dildo. Frank was putting an arm around Ginny possessively. Ginny was missing Harry. Andromeda, lonely these days, was thinking about how great it would be to have a magic dildo. It wasn't long before everyone finished eating.
After dinner, the men did the dishes while the women played with little Teddy in the den, who had woken up and was hungry. Andromeda was on lactation potions, so despite being fifty had full, milk-filled breasts for the rearing of her grandson, who presently was cradled in her arm, suckling one. The women were huddled around the chesterfield where she held him, all adoring the little angel.
"Gonna' get some fresh air," Molly said after a while. She went for an evening stroll outside, passing gnomes in the yard who scattered at the sight of her (Philip had seen her bring down the axe and had been spreading the horror story all day). She found Harry fully dressed in the garden. They met with a gleeful, giggling embrace.
"Can't believe we got away with that crazy shit!" he said.
"I know!" she said.
He kissed her, and after a minute she slid to her knees, unzipped his fly and started sucking his cock. He watched her beautiful lips kiss and devour his head and shaft, head bobbing in the failing light as the stars came out, neither aware of the person peeking at them through the hedges, watching in shock.
Ron sobbed quietly, tears streaking down his freckled cheeks as his mother give his best friend head. He was truly pathetic as he wept. How could they?
When he had seen all he could bear, he slipped away into the nearby forest, walking into the night.
He moped, sobbing sporadically. Life would never be the same. Harry and his mum. . . His mum, God damn it! He couldn't bear it. How would he look them in the face again? He hated them for what they had done. Part of him wanted revenge, to hurt Harry, maybe, but this idea had little appeal. He was still his best friend.
Ron curled up on the grass and wailed, pounding the ground with his fists, crying and howling. Life wasn't fair. He didn't want to live in a world where his mum sucked Harry's cock. Life had lost it's savour. His mum. . . His mum. . . His mum. . .
Suddenly, though, he cackled—cackled high and mad as the idea filled his mind. He knew what he had to do, what he would do. Knew how to solve his little problem. This problem of a life where his mum sucked Harry's cock.
He stood, and under the canopy of the stars and leaves withdrew his wand from his pocket. Carefully, cackles mingled with sobs, his mind in tatters, Ron brought the end of the wand into his open mouth, tip against the hard roof. He wanted nothing to do with a world where his mum sucked Harry's cock.
He didn't need to say the spell out loud. He was an old hand at nonverbal incantations.
A light exploded in his mouth, and Ron collapsed on the grass, twitching. . . twitching. . . still. He had had to do it nonverbally; the wand in his mouth would have prevented proper diction. But still he had pictured the word clearly in his mind, every syllable and sound. A word he had heard once directed at himself, with his own broken wand no less, which is why the spell had backfired on its caster wiping out the memories of that lying Lockhart bastard instead. Ron had never liked Obliviate.
He woke up in several minutes feeling very confused, having a vague memory of finishing the dishes then going outside to look for his mother. Groggily, he hiked back to the Burrow, unknowingly passing Harry and Molly lying in the shrubbery, Harry's tongue swirling in her fiery red hairs.
Ron found Hermione in his room. She healed the bruise in a jiffy, and as he leaned back proceeded to give him a blowjob for his pains, bobbing up and down on his lap, tenderly nurturing his angry blood baton with her lips and tongue. It wasn't long before her tongue was extended with his crown planted on it, spurting into the back of her throat as she swallowed and smiled. Then she licked him clean, gave his cock a parting kiss and zipped up his fly.
"You're getting really good at that," he said.