Literature, Smut, and Adult Themes

Alrighty...as you can imagine, Harry spent his summer at the Dursleys having fun-for-one with his imagination. But, when he gets to Diagon Alley, there is a change...we pick up in Chapter 4 of the Prisoner of Azkaban.

As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they, too, were ogling the Firebolt; he also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. Harry didn’t stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist, and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother. Harry hoped she never found out that he’d pretended to be Neville while on the run from the Ministry of Magic.

After seeing Neville, he went to have a sundae. It was the best yet – it seemed that every day Florean Fortescue was outdoing himself more and more. He salivated over the thought of what tomorrow’s would taste like.

He was just about to return to his room when he passed by a store with magazines in the window; for some reason, he hadn’t seen the store before, and so decided to go in. It was a wonderful emporium of the written word – it wasn’t too big, but every wall was covered in stacks upon stacks of magazines, all with shifting titles and moving covers. Some were exotic, like “The Eastern Wandmaker’s Quarterly” or “Merlin’s Arcane Spells Annual”; others, though, were straightforward, such as “Chudley Cannon’s Weekly” or “Hogwart’s Alumni Magazine”.

As he perused the shelves, he realized that he was completely alone in the building – if there was a clerk, he or she was nowhere to be found. There were no patrons, either; suddenly, he realized that the store wasn’t actually open, for the sign on the window said so! He had somehow managed to get in without breaking in – he needed to leave, now.

He quickly rushed to the front of the store, and as he was about to push open the door, a magazine cover took his breath away – there was a naked woman on the cover.

“Playwizard?” Harry muttered under his breath, grabbing the magazine and ogling the witch on the front. She was absolutely gorgeous...and voluptuous to boot. He suddenly went hard, but didn’t give a damn – looking at this picture felt sooo good.

He leaned forward slightly, and unintentionally rubbed his throbbing member against the folds of his robes; loudly, he let a moan escape his lips and he moved a hand down to grab himself.

“Who’s there?” A voice came from far away. Harry’s hearbeat jumped up to 200 beats per minute as he bolted out the door, magazine safely tucked away under his robes. He didn’t stop running until he was up in his room with the door shut.

Wasting no time, he stripped naked, covered the mirror, and then pounced on his bed with the magazine. He was still hard as ever, and as he opened the book of pleasure, he cast silencio around the room.

There were naked women everywhere, doing incredibly...dirty things, sometimes with each other! And the pictures all moved; it was only missing sound.

Harry felt so alive all over his body...erotic feeling pulsed with every heartbeat around his body. With his left hand he maintained a fast pace on his cock, and his right hand felt up his slim torso, down his thighs, and even pinching a nipple. Had anyone seen him at that moment, he surely would have had a heart attack and died on the spot; he remained uninterrupted, though, and with the hair on the back of his neck sticking up, he came.

The only come that could compare to this one was with Ron on Christmas Eve; now, as then, there was way more than usual, and Harry was so utterly turned on that he didn’t know what to do with himself, except play. He collapsed onto the bed, but was still within eyesight of the nude women; he didn’t go soft at all.

Still hard and willing, Harry rubbed his cock into the bed, pulsing his pelvis with all his might – it looked as though he was trying to actually fuck the bed. He went faster and faster until he came again, spraying onto the covers and a bit on his stomach. Too tired to care about cleaning up, Harry fell asleep and took a nap.

When he awoke an hour later, he was not happy having to clean up the dried come around him. He took a shower, cleaned the duvet and sheets, and then hid the magazine under his pillow for later.

“I’ve got to show this to Ron!” He thought.

Harry woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he’d have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned.