Small moments

This takes place in Prisoner of Azkaban while Harry and Hermione have gone back in time and are sitting around waiting for everyone to emerge from the Whomping Willow.





Harry wasn’t sure how things got this way.



The last few hours were a frantic race against time as he and Hermione retraced their steps, watching their past selves go through their day. Not too long ago, they had entered the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. It had seemed like an eternity as they watched the willow from a distance, waiting for their reemergence. So he and Hermione had started talking to pass the time. One thing led to another and now sticks and grass were biting into his bare ass. The root of a tree was pressing uncomfortably into his backside. On the plus side, his best friend was similarly stripped from the waist down, squatting over his groin.



Hermione’s kisses were hot and wet against his skin. Breathing heavily, she took his hands and pressed them against her chest. His hands moved awkwardly, feeling her small breasts through her purple sweater. She smiled, leaning in close. Harry’s cock twitched as it brushed against Hermione’s flaming center. Her netherlips burned as they danced against him. He pulled her into a kiss, trapping her moan in her throat as her hips pressed into his. Then Hermione started grinding against him. The movement was choppy and awkward, but she had time to work on it later, and her amateur grinding worked well against her equally inexperienced friend.



Harry’s eyes were drawn to her pink slit as it licked the underside of his rod, pressing it against him. His breathing grew rapid as his magic wand throbbed under her.



“Hermione,” he breathed. “Please.”



She met his eyes for a moment, before nodding. Lifting herself up a little, one of her slender hands reached down and gently gripped his glistening member. She positioned herself above his stiff shaft. Biting her lip, she slowly lowered herself until her puffy lips swallowed the tip of Harry’s manhood. He groaned softly, feeling himself pressing against her tight vaginal muscles. Her eyes closed to slits as her fingers tightened on his shoulders. Her breaths came out in a ragged hiss as she slowly slid down her best friend’s cock.



Harry moaned softly, his hands traveling to her hips. She was so hot and wet. She was like liquid fire against his skin. But above all she was tight. So tight it almost hurt. He felt her peeling back his foreskin. He felt her contract with every breath.



Hermione was breathless as she reached the halfway point. It hurt. Her hymen had all but been destroyed by the broom-riding lessons in her first year, but it still hurt. At the same time it felt so good! Hermione couldn’t understand it! Harry was a part of her! She could feel his heartbeat! She wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to fling herself off or come crashing down. She wrapped her arms around him, as she lost herself in a sea of reasons.



Then he pulled her down. Hermione gasped as their hips met; sweet sizzling friction where their wet skin touched. His hands were tight on her hips as he lifted her up and pulled her back down. Her bushy hair tailed behind her as she fell, her thighs slapping against Harry’s. Her breath escaped in a hasty gasp as she began bouncing; led by his hands. He was so strong!



She was so light! Harry moaned the name of his lover as she ran up and down his length. Hermione made a small noise in response, making him twitch inside her. He wasn’t sure how he wasn’t filling her insides with sperm, already. His mouth gaped open as he watched himself disappear into her, swallowed by her heat. His pubic hair was matted back by her juices. He started moving her faster, moaning as she pulled on his wand.



Hermione was sure she was drooling, but it hardly mattered to her anymore. All that mattered were Harry’s hands on her waist, his steady rhythm; the way he filled her. She gasped, feeling him shift underneath her so that he could sit up, pressing his lips against hers. She kissed him back eagerly, lips parting for his twirling tongue. Then her eyes widened as she dug her nails into his shoulders.



“Coming!” she grunted.



“Finally!” Harry sighed, letting himself go. He furiously thrust into her several more times, slapping their hips together. “Oh, God! God! Hermione!” he whispered, pulling himself out. His hand was barely on his cock before it exploded, streaking the front of Hermione’s pink sweater in white rivers of cum. Then he collapsed, lying back on the grass.



“Harry, hurry up!” Hermione hissed, nudging him with one hand as her other patted the dark grass for her discarded jeans.



“Well, sorry if I’m a bit tired,” Harry replied, slowly sitting up. “It’s hard work making you cum, ‘Mione.”



She paused, one leg in her jeans, and turned to give him a quizzical glance. Then she smiled softly.



“Harry, that’s sweet, but you didn’t make me cum.” She handed him the jeans she held. “These aren’t mine, by the way.”



The-Boy-Who-Just-Lived-Through-The-Greatest-Experience-Of-His-Life-Thusfar froze, staring dumbly at the gift.



“But you said…”



She came forward, placing a gentle, understanding hand on his shoulder.



“Harry, I said we were coming,” she murmured, pointing behind him. He turned in time to see himself and his godfather emerge from underneath the Whomping willow. Harry was silent, fumbling into his jeans in defeat. “Don’t worry, Harry,” Hermione said, standing up against the moon. “About making me cum,” she added, brushing her fingers against the front of her jacket, wiping away some of the still wet cum. “They’ll be plenty of time for that later.” Silhouetted against the room, Hermione brought her finger to her mouth and sucked, winking at Harry as she did so. The sight took his breath away.



Then snarls emerged from the distant hill…