Silver Anniversary

Ron hadn’t just reserved “a” room; he’d taken the best one in the place. The furnishings were lavish, and a well-stocked bar took up the entire north section. The bed was huge, and for some reason looked tremendously inviting.



Ron poured them both Firewhiskeys, and handed one to Harry. “To friendship,” he said, holding his glass out.



Harry answered the toast. “To friendship.” The two men drank. Harry took his glass away from his lips, took a deep breath, and stood in front of the man he’d shared over half his life with, waiting.



Ron took Harry’s glass from him and laid both glasses on a small table, then stepped forward. He smelled of good, clean sweat and something else, something uniquely RON—and Harry felt a part of his body begin to twitch in reaction.



“To friendship,” Ron said again—and then his lips were on Harry’s.



Any nervousness Harry was feeling was replaced by pure, wanton need as he answered Ron’s kiss with passion and enthusiasm. He allowed the bigger man to slowly guide him to the bed. Harry broke the kiss just long enough to sidle over to allow Ron room on the bed, then reached for him.



They kissed long and tenderly, their mouths open and their tongues dancing back and forth in a slow, sinuous waltz. Harry was resting on his elbows; Ron’s left hand traced small, intricate little patterns on his shirt before finally coming to rest on Harry’s stomach. Now they kissed harder, their lips tightening and relaxing, and Harry thought he would explode. Ron’s hand moved from Harry’s stomach to his waist, and Harry allowed him to pull them closer together.



Harry’s hands moved to Ron’s shirt. He gently tugged it free of Ron’s pants and slid his hands underneath, feeling the hard muscles on Ron’s torso. Ron’s hand was elsewhere. He was squeezing Harry’s equipment, and murmuring, in between kisses, “Nice, mate………very nice……” Ron snuggled closer to him, and Harry slid his hands down, and, for the first time, touched Ron’s cock and balls, though still through his pants.



“My……gods……” Harry breathed.



“Wait until you see them,” Ron whispered. “But first……” His hand was undoing Harry’s belt, then the button on Harry’s pants. Harry’s hands went back to work on Ron’s shirt and had it off even before Ron had Harry’s zipper down.



“Sit up,” Harry whispered. Ron broke off the kiss and did so, and Harry gazed as his oldest friend in a way he’d never thought he’d ever do. Even at age thirty-six, Ron was still in amazing shape; there was barely an ounce of fat on his stocky frame, and his muscles were pure wonders to behold; a broad chest, flat, defined abs, solid shoulders, and thick arms with veins running down the biceps. “So beautiful,” Harry murmured.



“So are you, mate.” Ron’s hands pushed Harry’s shirt up to his collarbone, revealing Harry’s own torso. Harry was no match for Ron in terms of bulk, but his lean, whipcord-like frame was as devoid of fat as Ron’s. Ron bent over—Harry’s mouth opened to meet the expected kiss—and then he gasped in pure pleasure as Ron’s tongue flicked over his nipple.



“Oh…my…GODS!” Harry’s body bucked with pleasure as Ron kissed his way up and down Harry’s chest and stomach. When Ron moved back up to kiss his mouth, Harry responded with newfound enthusiasm.



Ron pulled back, then slipped his pants off and tossed them by the side of the bed. Clad only in his boxers, he loosened Harry’s pants, but only pulled them halfway down Harry’s hips. “That’s what I was looking for,” he smiled, and Harry followed his gaze to see his dick outlined in his underwear, with a familiar wet spot where the head would be.



Ron pulled Harry’s underwear down, and breathed in wonder at the dick underneath, framed by a neat patch of black hair. “Ready or not, mate, here I come,” he said—and three seconds later, Harry nearly did as Ron’s mouth engulfed his swollen member.



Harry squirmed in delight as Ron sucked greedily on his cock, his mind racing in a million different directions at once. Ron broke off, and said, “Let’s get you out of those clothes.” He pulled Harry’s pants and underwear completely off in one fluid motion, even as Harry pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it aside. Ron pulled off his own underwear, and, for the first time in their twenty-five year friendship, the two men were alone together and completely naked.



Ron went back to work on Harry’s cock and balls, licking them, kissing the head, jerking it with his hand, before finally opening his mouth and taking Harry into him. Harry lay in barely contained frenzy as Ron blew him, and Harry began to feel a familiar pressure that he knew he had to head off, or things would come to a premature close.



“Ron,” he gasped, “let me……please………”



Ron stopped and looked up; Harry’s open mouth told him all he needed to know. He scooched his body up until he could have sat on Harry’s chest, his own rock-hard dick right in Harry’s face. Harry needed no further encouragement. Without stopping to consider that he’d never done this before, he took Ronald Weasley into his mouth.



Instinct took over as Harry’s head bobbed back and forth on Ron’s dick. Ron leaned forward and held the headboard as Harry Potter delivered his first blowjob. Harry had no idea if he was doing it right, but from the gasps and moans of pure ecstasy coming from Ron, he rather thought he was.



Meanwhile, Ron had reached back and grabbed Harry’s dick. He caressed it with firm but gentle strokes, keeping it hard even with his own dick in Harry’s mouth.



Harry took Ron out of his mouth. “That feels so good……”



“Sorry, mate,” Ron said, “but I’m going to have to stop.”



“Stop?????” Harry was stunned. “Why?”



“Because………” And Ron twisted his body and lowered it back to the bed, before wrapping his mouth around Harry’s dick once more.



Harry shifted so that he and Ron were both on their sides, then went back to work on Ron’s cock. The two men sucked each other tenderly; their long friendship finally consummated at last.



“There’s more, Harry, ” Ron whispered. “Are you ready?”



Harry knew what Ron meant—and he was suddenly more scared than he’d ever been in his life. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. Maybe the smart thing would be to say, “no.”



“Yeah,” he heard himself saying. “I’m ready.”



Ron smiled, a gentle smile, but one with distinctly wolfish qualities to it. He eased Harry onto his back and felt below Harry’s dick until he found his arse hole. “This is going to hurt for a bit, mate,” Ron warned him. “If it’s too much, tell me.”



“Right.”



Ron’s finger played around Harry’s opening for a bit, and Harry, to his own shock, found himself opening under Ron’s ministrations. Then Ron’s finger slipped in—and Harry’s breath completely stopped.



“Don’t do that!” Ron said urgently. “Don’t tense up—keep breathing, Harry. Slow, deep breaths.”



Harry complied, shakily. He forced himself to breath naturally, forced himself to relax—and gradually, the pain of Ron’s initial entry eased. When Ron slipped a second finger in to join the first, Harry barely felt any pressure.



“I think you’re as loose as you’re going to get, mate,” Ron said. “You ready?”



“Yes.”