Ron had gone out early in the morning. He told Harry that he just wanted to be alone. Harry couldn't blame him. If that had been his mother… well if he'd had a mother…
Jesus! Harry had never imagined Mrs. Weasely being the sort to engage in group sex. But after letting the idea stew through the night it was actually semi cock-stiffening.
Harry shuttered. He had just used the words cock-stiffening and Mrs. Weasely in the same sentence.
Since when had he been attracted to Ron and Ginny's mum? Why would he find himself so aroused? Would he have been just as aroused if it had been Hermione or Ginny getting banged by a bunch of aging wizards? He really thought not.
The front door of the burrow suddenly banged open, and who but Mrs. Weasely herself, bustled into the kitchen, carrying a double-arm-load of grocery bags. How could she have woken up and decided to go shopping after the night she must have had?
Harry usually would have hurried over to help, but today he didn't. Instead he watched her carefully, studying her face and figure; her image tumbling over in his mind.
Her face was soft and her cheeks were round. Her figure was under tended, but only mildly so. Her eyes were complex, and yet very kind.
She was a beautiful woman, Harry determined. So he spent the next five minutes staring dreamily at this beautiful woman.
"Harry, what on earth are you looking at, dear?" Mrs. Weasely said. She had an uncertain smile on her face.
"Oh. Er. I'm sorry," said Harry. "I was just thinking," (about the orgy last night.)
"Then why don't you come over here and give me a hand with these groceries," she said.
(And after were done, maybe I can give you a hand with something else…)
"Yes Mum. Er. I mean ma'am," said Harry.
(Sick! You just called her mum. You really are going to hell…)
"Mum is just fine with me," said Mrs. Weasely, glowing at him.
"Okay then; mum," said Harry.
Mrs. Weasely stopped. Harry could tell that she was lost for words. He knew that Mrs. Weasely held a special place for him in her heart. To her he was a seventh son. She would have liked nothing more than for Harry to think of her as his surrogate mother. She made a beckoning gesture to him, and Harry went to her.
She pulled him into a warm embrace. But all Harry could think of was rough and wild sex. He realized that their pelvic regions were touching, and against his will, his penis started getting hard yet again.
Fortunately Mrs. Weasely didn't seem to notice. She was leaning in to give him a kiss; a warm motherly sort of a kiss. But Harry's imagination had gotten out of control; what with the orgy and all, so he leaned foreword, kissed her, and before he could stop it, his tongue slid into her mouth. He kissed her the way he had been dreaming of all night.
"Harry!"