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The Interlude
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,386
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,386
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Interlude
AN: This is not meant to be taken seriously, folks. In fact, this is the cheesiest drivel I have ever written. But I want you to enjoy it all the same! And review it! Love it! pls pls
*I MAKE NO MONEY OFF OF ANYTHING! JK ROWLING IS A GODDESS! ALL FOR HER!
He does not act in any way that would indicate that he intends to “please” me. He is his own man, with his own…plan. Dear lord, I sound like a great sodding poof. Who would have ever thought that I, the great, heartless spawn of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, I, Draco Malfoy, could ever fall in love with someone like…him? Hell, we’ll up this a notch—who knew I was even capable of love?
And yet, I do. His smile, his grace, his wit…all things that make me swoon with MANLY glee. I wonder, as I sit awake late at night, if he ever thinks about me…
~*~*~
I’m becoming scared. Not in a feminine, Hermione way, psh! I’m no wanker! No, it’s a very manly fear—a fear for my manhood, at least.
Draco Malfoy just slapped my ass.
~*~*~
I don’t know what made me do it, but Jesus Christ, I’d do anything to take it back! The look on his face, the mixture of confusion and rage and…intrigue? Wait, was that a flicker of lust across that gorgeous face?
Oh my. I’m not quite sure what happened; whenever my darling boy is around I tend to lose control—of everything. His swaying ass captivated my gaze and my hands took on a mind of their own…
Mayhap I shall not regret this rash action after all…
~*~*~
Malfoy slapped my ass. His large hands (freakishly so, for a boy his age) “tapped my ass” as the American say. And now, to top off the humiliation of being publicly molested by a hated enemy, he’s smirking at me! Is he insane?!
Oh, dear…is there a come-hither smile lurking on those luscious…I mean! Evil! Evil lips! The evil lips of an obviously confused boy who wants to rape me. At least, I think it would be rape…
~*~*~
In a dark corner the two finally met, converging into one being in a rush of arms and tongues and sweat. Malfoy ran his hands through the mop of thick red hair adorning his beloved’s oddly disproportionate head, marveling at the silky ginger tendrils.
“Well,” the now enflamed redhead inquired, “what exactly is supposed to happen now?”
Draco smirked. Oh, the innocence. He knew what purity would soon be lost—and that he would be the one that would cast it into the winds of time.
“What do you think should happen, Ron? How do you feel right now> Hard? Do you ache for me?”
Malfoy slithered behind Ron, breathing against the sensitive flesh of his ear. He could feel Ron pulsating within his trousers. He grinned, cupping the enlarged bulge, and whispered, “Do you want to feel me, Ron? Do you want to feel me deep inside?”
Ron blushed, although how this was a accomplished no one will ever know, for the turgid rod of lust between his pale, young thighs encapsulated much of the blood coursing through his veins, and he made a vain attempt to push Malfoy’s large hands away.
“I won’t be your fuck toy, Malfoy. You will not just use me as a tool to get yourself off,” Ron declared ly, ly, but with a determined tone that made Draco’s heart melt. How could Ron truly believe that poppy-cock? This was more than just a petty fuck—if he wanted one of those he would just go to Harry “the Hoover” Potter. No, Ron was different, and Draco vowed at that very moment to win the love of this boy, the only person who ever succeeded in making the icy fortress surrounding his heart melt, thus allowing the roots if love to take hold in the fertile soil of his soul. Hopefully, Ron would return this love, and the flowers of joy would bloom—fertilized, of course, by the torrents of liquid need that would burst from their quivering members into a multitude of orifices, each equally hot and ready to be filled to the brim. (AN: I loved writing that. I had to try so hard notcraccrack up in Art History, for my professor was a psychotic Greek woman who would eat me, but it was great. Cheesiness like that can only come from extreme boredom. :D)
Draco spun Ron around pre pressed his lips to Ron’s alabaster column…his throat. His tongue pressed against the delicate flesh at Ron’s collarbone, tracing his pulse point, smirking smugly at the noticeably faster pace it began to beat. His hands wandered down, deftly undoing the redhead’s pants, and then plunged themselves into the hot jungle of lust that existed in the juncture of his innocent love’s thighs.
“Dammit, Malfoy!” Ron yelped, his voice laced with surprise, a pained expression gracing his uniquely attractive features.
“What? Did I hurt you?” Draco asked quickly, fearing that he crossed the line too soon, and that this would end before it ever began.
“No,” reassured Ron, “it’s just…your hands are cold.”
Draco grinned, relief flooding his body almas qas quickly as desire normally did whenever Ron was around.
“Well now, you’ll just have to warm them up, won’t you?”
~*~*~
Cheeky bastard. How am I supposed to act when he has my cock enveloin tin those huge, yet surprisingly gentle hands? What does he want me to say? ‘Suck me, Malfoy. Drink my hot seed. Fuck me?’
Oh my. The thought of Malfoy entering me really shouldn’t cause my pants to tighten so, and yet, here I am, almost creaming myself—and he’s only touched me once.
Stop being such a pussy, Ron. You know he wants you too. You can feel his erection pressed against your own. Take charge. See if he tastes as good as you always denied you think he does…
~*~*~
Did Ronald Weasley just squeeze my cock? Oh my. I do believe I underestimated my little pigeon wing. This may turn out to be more interesting than I first anticipated…
~*~*~
Clothes flew about the room, their need overcoming any sense of modesty or restraint. It was a power struggle; cream versus the mottled freckles, money versus integrity, sly intelligence versus brute strength. In the end, Ron entered the tight sheath of Draco’s anus, victoriously grunting stroke after stroke, until he finally burst and flooded the silvery blonde minx with his all natural protein elixir. :D
Draco sat, somewhat uncomfortably, dazed and confused and still quite hard. Would Ron leave him like this?
Ron smirked at the fear in Draco’s eyes.
“Don’t worry, Malfoy. I give as good as I get.”
And with that, he dropped his head into Draco’s lap and began to suckle like a hungry calf to his mother’s teat.
Draco came quickly and Ron happily swallowed every drop. He then ascended up his slim lover’s body, pressing his lips to Draco’s, pushing some of the remaining essence into the blonde’s smirking mouth. They broke the kiss and stared deeply into one another’s eyes.
“What do we do now?” Ron inquired once again, this time much more relaxed and self-satisfied.
“Now we sleep.”
Ron placed his head upon the slim chest of his lover and dropped off to sleepy land with a rather indelicate snore. Draco smiled as he looked down at his sleeping love’s almost comatose form.
‘So this is what it’s like to be happy,\' he mused, just before sleep overcame him.
*I MAKE NO MONEY OFF OF ANYTHING! JK ROWLING IS A GODDESS! ALL FOR HER!
He does not act in any way that would indicate that he intends to “please” me. He is his own man, with his own…plan. Dear lord, I sound like a great sodding poof. Who would have ever thought that I, the great, heartless spawn of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, I, Draco Malfoy, could ever fall in love with someone like…him? Hell, we’ll up this a notch—who knew I was even capable of love?
And yet, I do. His smile, his grace, his wit…all things that make me swoon with MANLY glee. I wonder, as I sit awake late at night, if he ever thinks about me…
~*~*~
I’m becoming scared. Not in a feminine, Hermione way, psh! I’m no wanker! No, it’s a very manly fear—a fear for my manhood, at least.
Draco Malfoy just slapped my ass.
~*~*~
I don’t know what made me do it, but Jesus Christ, I’d do anything to take it back! The look on his face, the mixture of confusion and rage and…intrigue? Wait, was that a flicker of lust across that gorgeous face?
Oh my. I’m not quite sure what happened; whenever my darling boy is around I tend to lose control—of everything. His swaying ass captivated my gaze and my hands took on a mind of their own…
Mayhap I shall not regret this rash action after all…
~*~*~
Malfoy slapped my ass. His large hands (freakishly so, for a boy his age) “tapped my ass” as the American say. And now, to top off the humiliation of being publicly molested by a hated enemy, he’s smirking at me! Is he insane?!
Oh, dear…is there a come-hither smile lurking on those luscious…I mean! Evil! Evil lips! The evil lips of an obviously confused boy who wants to rape me. At least, I think it would be rape…
~*~*~
In a dark corner the two finally met, converging into one being in a rush of arms and tongues and sweat. Malfoy ran his hands through the mop of thick red hair adorning his beloved’s oddly disproportionate head, marveling at the silky ginger tendrils.
“Well,” the now enflamed redhead inquired, “what exactly is supposed to happen now?”
Draco smirked. Oh, the innocence. He knew what purity would soon be lost—and that he would be the one that would cast it into the winds of time.
“What do you think should happen, Ron? How do you feel right now> Hard? Do you ache for me?”
Malfoy slithered behind Ron, breathing against the sensitive flesh of his ear. He could feel Ron pulsating within his trousers. He grinned, cupping the enlarged bulge, and whispered, “Do you want to feel me, Ron? Do you want to feel me deep inside?”
Ron blushed, although how this was a accomplished no one will ever know, for the turgid rod of lust between his pale, young thighs encapsulated much of the blood coursing through his veins, and he made a vain attempt to push Malfoy’s large hands away.
“I won’t be your fuck toy, Malfoy. You will not just use me as a tool to get yourself off,” Ron declared ly, ly, but with a determined tone that made Draco’s heart melt. How could Ron truly believe that poppy-cock? This was more than just a petty fuck—if he wanted one of those he would just go to Harry “the Hoover” Potter. No, Ron was different, and Draco vowed at that very moment to win the love of this boy, the only person who ever succeeded in making the icy fortress surrounding his heart melt, thus allowing the roots if love to take hold in the fertile soil of his soul. Hopefully, Ron would return this love, and the flowers of joy would bloom—fertilized, of course, by the torrents of liquid need that would burst from their quivering members into a multitude of orifices, each equally hot and ready to be filled to the brim. (AN: I loved writing that. I had to try so hard notcraccrack up in Art History, for my professor was a psychotic Greek woman who would eat me, but it was great. Cheesiness like that can only come from extreme boredom. :D)
Draco spun Ron around pre pressed his lips to Ron’s alabaster column…his throat. His tongue pressed against the delicate flesh at Ron’s collarbone, tracing his pulse point, smirking smugly at the noticeably faster pace it began to beat. His hands wandered down, deftly undoing the redhead’s pants, and then plunged themselves into the hot jungle of lust that existed in the juncture of his innocent love’s thighs.
“Dammit, Malfoy!” Ron yelped, his voice laced with surprise, a pained expression gracing his uniquely attractive features.
“What? Did I hurt you?” Draco asked quickly, fearing that he crossed the line too soon, and that this would end before it ever began.
“No,” reassured Ron, “it’s just…your hands are cold.”
Draco grinned, relief flooding his body almas qas quickly as desire normally did whenever Ron was around.
“Well now, you’ll just have to warm them up, won’t you?”
~*~*~
Cheeky bastard. How am I supposed to act when he has my cock enveloin tin those huge, yet surprisingly gentle hands? What does he want me to say? ‘Suck me, Malfoy. Drink my hot seed. Fuck me?’
Oh my. The thought of Malfoy entering me really shouldn’t cause my pants to tighten so, and yet, here I am, almost creaming myself—and he’s only touched me once.
Stop being such a pussy, Ron. You know he wants you too. You can feel his erection pressed against your own. Take charge. See if he tastes as good as you always denied you think he does…
~*~*~
Did Ronald Weasley just squeeze my cock? Oh my. I do believe I underestimated my little pigeon wing. This may turn out to be more interesting than I first anticipated…
~*~*~
Clothes flew about the room, their need overcoming any sense of modesty or restraint. It was a power struggle; cream versus the mottled freckles, money versus integrity, sly intelligence versus brute strength. In the end, Ron entered the tight sheath of Draco’s anus, victoriously grunting stroke after stroke, until he finally burst and flooded the silvery blonde minx with his all natural protein elixir. :D
Draco sat, somewhat uncomfortably, dazed and confused and still quite hard. Would Ron leave him like this?
Ron smirked at the fear in Draco’s eyes.
“Don’t worry, Malfoy. I give as good as I get.”
And with that, he dropped his head into Draco’s lap and began to suckle like a hungry calf to his mother’s teat.
Draco came quickly and Ron happily swallowed every drop. He then ascended up his slim lover’s body, pressing his lips to Draco’s, pushing some of the remaining essence into the blonde’s smirking mouth. They broke the kiss and stared deeply into one another’s eyes.
“What do we do now?” Ron inquired once again, this time much more relaxed and self-satisfied.
“Now we sleep.”
Ron placed his head upon the slim chest of his lover and dropped off to sleepy land with a rather indelicate snore. Draco smiled as he looked down at his sleeping love’s almost comatose form.
‘So this is what it’s like to be happy,\' he mused, just before sleep overcame him.