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Harry texted Hermione, informing her he hadn't found anything and asking for another idea. He needed more evidence before making a decision, and he suspected Hermione had at least one more investigative path up her sleeve.
Hermione didn't reply right away, and Harry spent the rest of the afternoon at his computer. He didn't allow himself to rewatch the video, unsure what dirty thoughts might infect him if he did. He did, however, check his EroticGate inbox for a reply from darkstorm, the video creator. He checked it over and over, sometimes refreshing it twice in quick succession as if a message revealing the woman's identity might arrive any moment.
He waited, feeling impatient and various forms of frustration. Neither Hermione nor Darkstorm responded. He was contemplating whether to go for a walk to clear his head when Bellatrix came home.
"Harry?" she called from downstairs. "Are you home?"
"Yes, mom," he answered.
She came upstairs, peeking through the door with a smile on her face. She was wearing a blue cardigan, a white blouse, a gray skirt, and tights. Her hair was loose, dark strands falling over her shoulders and framing her face. "What's up?" she asked, frowning.
"Nothing," he said.
Bellatrix stepped behind his computer chair. Harry scanned the browser tabs, ensuring there was nothing incriminating in their abbreviated titles. His stepmother wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close from behind, and he felt his body sing with illicit excitement at the contact. It made him think of Hermione and what they had done earlier, how quickly they had both been thrust into a sexual relationship.
"Did you even leave the house today?" his mom asked. "You might just be feeling cooped up from being inside."
"I went to Hermione's this morning," Harry said.
"Oh?" His stepmother turned her head so her face was close to his. "Did you guys do anything fun?"
The insinuation in her tone and smile was dangerously close to the truth. Harry felt his cheeks flush, but he managed to roll his eyes.
"If we did, would you really want to know?" he asked.
"It's not good to have secrets, honey," she said.
Harry looked her straight in the eyes. Her face was only inches from his. He imagined how she would look in glasses and a blonde wig. He tried not to notice how tight his underwear had become.
"Anyway, I'll get started on dinner." Bellatrix gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and darted out of his room. "We're having fried chicken."
Half an hour later, Harry was sitting across the table from his stepmother. She was talking about her day, and he was talking about his, omitting most of the details about what had happened between him, Hermione, and Fleur. He felt almost normal, though the matter of the video still loomed over Harry's interactions with his mom, like some dark, dirty curse.
His phone vibrated and he checked it, finding a new message from Hermione.
Hermione: Try approaching her naked?
Harry blinked. He looked at his mom. She was eating, taking sweet bites of stir-fried chicken, lost in thought.
Harry: What? Are you crazy?
Hermione: You'll be able to tell, trust me. Watch the video, pay close attention to the woman's breasts, then compare them to stepmother's. Especially the nipples, they're almost like fingerprints.
"Is that Hermione?" Bellatrix asked. "From the look on your face, I guess she just told you something you didn't want to hear?"
Harry grimaced. "Kind of."
"You can talk to me about it if you want," said his mom. "I'm here if you need someone to vent to, honey. Or to blow off some steam."
"I'm fine." He pushed his nearly empty plate forward. "She just wants me to play video games with her. And I'm done eating anyway."
Bellatrix didn't seem convinced. She rested her head on her hand, propping herself up with her elbow on the table. She looked at him with such love and tenderness that Harry almost blushed.
"I'm going to miss you a lot when you go off to college," she said. "We should spend more time together these next few months."
"mom..." Harry smiled at her, despite how weak he felt when she said such things.
Hermione's suggestion pulled at him. Despite how disgusting it was to him to spy on his stepmother, she was right. If he wanted to know the truth, all it would take was seeing stepmother's naked body. And it wouldn't even be hard to arrange it in a way that flowed naturally.
Harry went upstairs and slipped into the bathroom. His stepmother kept clean towels in the linen closet, which was right next to the shower, within reach of someone who had just stepped out. He opened it and pulled out two clean towels.
His mom would take a shower after dinner, as she usually did on work nights. As long as she didn't check the closet in advance, it would end up with her having to call Harry to bring her a fresh towel. He'd have his chance. The thought of it made him feel sick. He took the towels to his room and sat down to wait.
"Harry?" called his stepmother. "I'm going to take a shower. Do you need to use the bathroom before I hop in?"
"...No," he said. "I'm fine."
He replayed the video, listening to the sounds of his stepmother undressing in the bathroom across the hall and starting the shower. His dick was hard in his pants as he got to the part where the woman in the video revealed her breasts. He paused the film, staring at the nipples and committing them to memory.
Was he really going to do this? Walk in on stepmother, violate her privacy, and see her naked in the shower? On one hand, it would be a sure way to find out the truth. On the other hand, it would stick in his mind just like the video, regardless of whether he ended up with confirmation or not. He'd have seen her naked, without clothes. Her breasts and body were fully visible to him.
She would probably forgive him, considering he'd set it up to look like an accident. Oddly, that only made Harry feel worse about it. She was his stepmother, she would forgive him and still love him, never suspecting that her son had an element of sexual and erotic interest in her. She wouldn't be aware of the fact that the mere thought of seeing her naked gave Harry the most confused boner he'd ever had in his life.
"Harry?" called his stepmother. "There aren't any towels in the bathroom. Can you bring me one from downstairs?"
Harry took a slow, shaky breath. "Sure, mom."
He picked up one of the prepared towels and made a show of heading downstairs and then back up. He stopped outside the bathroom. His dick was hard, making a distinct bulge in his jeans. He adjusted it a bit, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, then opened the door.
He couldn't do it. Automatically, he looked away, glancing over his shoulder and extending the towel towards the shower curtain.
"Thanks, sweetheart," said his mom as she took it from him. "Do you want to watch a movie on the couch afterward? I feel like spending some time with my stepmother-son tonight."
"Sure," he said. He closed the door, feeling like he could kick himself for losing his nerve. He was no closer to the truth than before, and the fact that he wanted so badly to see her naked only added to his embarrassment.
He needed answers. He needed things to go back to normal. And most of all, he needed release.
Harry changed into jeans in his room, wearing only boxers and a t-shirt as he headed downstairs, his usual summer pajamas. His mom had already dried off and came down ahead of him, smiling as he took a seat on the couch next to her.
"Do you feel like watching something specific?" Bellatrix asked. She was wearing a thin blue nightgown that clung to the contours of her breasts and had brought a blanket to cover her legs.
"Something funny," Harry replied. "I could use a laugh."
"Alright, honey," said his mom. "Let's see what Netflix has in store."
They settled on a cop comedy, and Bellatrix scooted a little closer to him, pressing her arm against his as the movie started.
"I feel like we'd be more comfortable if we lay down," she said.
Harry's dick stiffened at the thought, though it made him uncomfortable. He wouldn't just be lying down with his stepmother, whom he loved and respected. He would also be lying down with the woman who could potentially be the star of the illicit video, the woman who had guided him through enjoying her seductive, filthy words.
"Sure," he said, regretting the word even as it left his mouth. His mom smiled at him as she moved, lifting her legs onto the couch. For a brief second, her head rested sideways on his crotch, her soft cheek pressing against the fabric of his boxers and the rapidly hardening dick underneath. Could she feel it?
"Harry?" his mom asked. "Are you going to lie down?"
"Yeah."
Why had he agreed to this suggestion? He felt his dick shifting in his boxers with too much freedom and impatient stiffness as he positioned himself behind his stepmother. Jesus, her nightgown was thin. The blanket that stepmother used to cover them only made things worse, as if its main purpose was to hide what was happening underneath.
Their position on the couch had Harry's dick wedged between his stomach and stepmother's buttocks. There were worse places for it to be, he thought. His dick twitched slightly of its own accord, as if agreeing with that sentiment. It was warm and so incredibly soft. He wrapped his arm around mom's waist and pulled her closer, the pleasure of his member being pressed against her buttock sending shivers through him.
"Ready?" whispered Bellatrix.
"Ready," Harry replied.
She turned on the movie, and he tried to distract himself from the sounds and sights of the opening sequence. It felt like an exercise in futility. The warm, soft body next to him was far more enticing than the film.
Harry rested his hand on stepmother's stomach, over the fabric of her nightgown but under the blanket. She was in such good shape, and with each breath, he could feel the lower edge of her breast brushing against his hand.
He was also breathing, using it as an excuse to slowly thrust his hips back and forth, allowing his dick to slide so lightly along her buttocks. It was a long, drawn-out form of torture that he inflicted on himself, and that was before adding his own shame to the equation. She was his stepmother, and he had never been so aroused by a woman in his life.
He scolded himself mentally, trying to rationalize his circumstances. She was his stepmother, and he was confused. She looked so much like the woman in the video that some wires in his brain must have crossed. He wasn't attracted to her—he was a loving, normal son.
His throbbing cock seemed to contradict this forced logic. It had taken control now, and he was just a passenger on the ride. Harry felt it pushing him further as the movie transitioned to an action sequence. His stepmother flinched slightly during a jump scare, and he used it as an excuse to press forward, dry humping her in all but name.
His hand was also getting bolder. He moved it up her stomach until the tips of his fingers were at the bottom of one of her breasts. An absurd thought crossed his mind. Maybe he could recognize her nipples by touch? If he reached a bit further and gave one a gentle squeeze, let his fingers swirl it around a few times, maybe...?
Maybe his stepmother would be horrified and never speak to him again. Harry slid his hand lower, away from the dangerous zone that was his stepmother's chest. She chose that same moment to sigh and move her upper body forward, pushing her butt back against him. "Sorry," his stepmother whispered. "Could you slide down a bit?"
Harry had no idea what she meant but did as she asked, then froze in horror. His boxers had come undone at some point, and as he slid down, his cock had completely slipped out. He tried to reach down and fix the situation, but his stepmother's body was in the way, and it would be weird if he forced it.
"Much better," Bellatrix whispered. "Comfortable?"
She arched her butt back, and Harry felt his cock nestle between the triangle formed by the convergence of her thighs and crotch. She closed her legs, trapping his throbbing member between them, right next to her soft, silky panties and the bare skin of her thighs. He exhaled with relief, feeling her healthy pleasure. How could she not feel what she'd just done?
"Harry?" his stepmother asked. "Everything alright?"
"I'm fine," he replied.
"Could you move your phone?" she asked. "It's poking me."
His phone. She thought his cock was his phone. Harry was stunned by her mistake and immensely grateful for it. He grabbed his mom by the waist and started to pull back, feeling his cock slide through the tight triangle of her thighs. He pushed forward again, drawn by the addictive rush of pleasure, then continued to pull back.
Maybe just one or two more thrusts, he thought. If she thought it was his phone, he could just say he was adjusting it to take it out, right? Flimsy logic bolstered by a hot, desperate need for release. Harry wrapped his arm around his stepmother, pretending to reach into his pocket with his other hand and began to dry hump her.
"Sorry," he whispered, thrusting so boldly it was almost silly. "It's really stuck in there."
"Take it out," Bellatrix whispered. "I think it's vibrating and distracting me from the movie."
"Sure, mom." Harry leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She turned, giving him a curious, suspicious look. Before he could apologize or back out of what he was doing, she smiled and kissed him quickly on the lips.
"I love you, sweetheart," his mom whispered. His cock throbbed in time with the pounding in his head. He had to fuck her. He was a terrible, disgusting excuse for a son, and all he could think about was ripping off her panties and plunging into her as deep as he could.
But it wasn't his fault, he reminded himself. He was confused. The video had planted a seed in him and led him astray. Once he proved that it wasn't his stepmother in the video, everything would go back to normal. His urges would subside.
Harry hugged his stepmother tightly, letting his cock nestle in the beautiful tightness between her thighs one last time. Then he carefully slid past her and got off the couch, tucking his cock back into his boxers.
"I need to use the bathroom," he said. "Alright," Bellatrix said.
He hurried upstairs, his hard cock throbbing and begging for release with every step. Without thinking, he stopped first in his room. He grabbed the pair of stepmother's panties he had borrowed earlier from her room.
He came as soon as the silky fabric touched the sensitive skin of his shaft.
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