Desperate Measures

Notes: This is a challenge fic for the Shameful Secrets Fest [http://www.livejournal.com/users/_angsty/731724.html]

[ ] denotes thought
// denotes memory

Thanks to my beta!

Specific Challenge Requirements: masturbating!Ron thinking about a variety of girls from Hermione to Lavender to Madame Rosmerta to McGonagall for all I care. With some kind of weird twist at the end. Be creative!

Plusses for random thoughts of the following while wanking:
- some other dude
- incest (in this case, more like brotherly advice)
- quidditch
- Dumbledore's socks

~(*)~ ~(*)~ ~(*)~

The curtains on his bed were shut, the silencing charm was in place and Ron tried to relax despite the tension that filled him.

He shivered as he ran his hand down his body, not stopping to enjoy the feeling of pride he normally had in the crisp mat of red-gold hair which adorned his chest and thickened to a line that led down to his crotch. He just had to come!

Before curling his hand around his straining erection, he fingered his bollocks; they felt *huge*. He shuddered and slipped his hand around his cock, closed his eyes and began to stroke.

["You're supposed to stroke it."]

He remembered telling Neville this once third year, pleased at his double-entendre, pleased to be knowledgeable about not just the Monster Book of Monsters, but about tossing off.

He'd been equally pleased that his body had begun showing the definite signs of adulthood, including pit and pubic hair. He had started getting erections and wet dreams over the summer, but he'd scarcely known what to do, until Charlie had shown him during one of his visits to the Burrow.

Ron moaned now, remembering that first time and how awkward and embarrassing and overwhelmingly exciting it had been...

//
"Make sure you've got a good grip, not too tight, not too loose," Charlie had instructed, sitting by him on his orange Cannon's blanket.

Blushing, Ron had done so, wishing Charlie had more clothes on, even while admiring his brother's heavily muscled torso. He wondered if he'd ever develop muscles like that.

"Now just stroke so your foreskin slips back and forth over the head of your prick."

Ron had tried a firm stroke, winced, then loosened his grip. That was better. His foreskin slid back and forth easily over the red, wet glans. The feeling was... *incredible*. He moved his hand faster. This was better than Honeydukes. Better than summer. Better than *Quidditch*.

At this thought, his bollocks had tightened and his penis had jerked in his hand and his eyes flew open as the semen had spurted from him in white pulses...
//

"Oh, yeah..." he moaned now, feeling himself getting more excited, his erection full and heavy now, thighs tightening and relaxing as he strove toward climax.

He remembered how Hermione had grabbed at his arm during that lesson in third year... and how he had gotten a raging erection that only went away later in the boy's lavoratory, where he'd wanked himself silly in a stall, thinking of Hermione and all the girls in his house. An image flitted through his mind's eye now of Lavender, bare-breasted by the lake, the one time she'd let him feel her up.

Ron moaned and moved his hand faster.

Another image came and went of Lavender's breasts, Lavender's face. Professor McGonagall had nearly caught them by the lake he remembered, and for some reason this made his cock feel even harder than before. Briefly he wondered if his Head of House had ever been married.

["Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face?"]

He wondered what she would look like in the throes of passion. Had she and Dumbledore ever...? He couldn't even imagine Dumbledore *wanking*, although he must have been a teenager once and full of hormones.

Despite himself, Ron suddenly had an image in his head of the headmaster avidly tossing off, bony fingers of one hand around his sturdy cock and a purple sock with orange spots in the other ready to catch the spunk...

[Ew.!]

He could feel himself deflate a little at the thought. So he screwed his eyes shut tighter and thought again of Lavender, of Parvati --

[that sleeveless top of hers shows off the sides of her tits...]

His fingers pressed lightly on the vein under his cock as he strained for release. He thought desperately of Luna --

[what a great arse that girl has...]

He thought of Hermione, his beloved Hermione, who had the best of everything -- everything he wanted. His hand moved faster as he thought of her breasts... her hips...

"H-Her...mione!" he called out, squeezing his cock tightly as he came and came.

It seemed to go on endlessly, a veritable flood of release. He could practically feel his hugely swollen balls deflating. He trembled as semen continued to ooze from him. Soon he could feel Harry's sweaty hand, now merely cupping his scrotum and not holding it up. Ron opened his eyes.

Harry looked up at him, a nervous smile on his face, his hand still cupped up under his bollocks, patently ignoring the liberal splashes his hand and forearm had received. Based on the way he was sitting by his leg, he'd had his face turned away so as not to watch. Ron felt immense gratitude toward his friend.

"Better?" was all Harry asked.

Ron nodded. Then he looked over at Hermione, who sat beside his other leg, nearly at the foot of the bed, with an expectant look on her face and not a hint of embarassment.

"Did it work?" she asked.

He nodded, still too winded to speak.

"I'll let go then, shall I?" Harry gently removed his hand.

The trio waited, but there was no pain and his bollocks appeared hefty, but normal. They'd always been on the large size, Ron thought proudly, but he was glad they weren't the way they'd been before he came.

Harry had been holding up Ron's enormously swollen testicles since Goyle had hexed them earlier in the hall outside their Common Room. If he hadn't done it, though, they might have been ripped off his body from their own weight. Ron hadn't been able to hold them up himself.

It was a self-limiting hex, but his choices, per his alternately concerned and appalled girlfriend -- who had easily disarmed Goyle and forced him to flee -- had been to either wait two days while his quaffle-sized nuts shrank back to normal, or else...

"You'll have to um, *ejaculate*," Hermione had finally said forthrightly. "I'm afraid it's the only fast way to get back to normal."

So they'd hurriedly frogwalked Ron back to the thankfully empty Common Room. From there, awkwardly up the stairs and into the boy's dorm room, Hermione walking on the other side of Ron and holding her jacket in front of Ron's waist the entire way, since the hex had caused his trousers to split wide open and his genitals to burst out. Harry was glad of it, because the jacket covered his hands cupping Ron's enormously heavy bollocks; his face had been beet red from the time they'd started walking. Thence to Ron's bed and behind the curtains for a wank session.

Harry would have left then, except that when he'd tried to let go, Ron had cried out in pain, and Hermione suggested he keep cradling Ron's bollocks to avoid any undue pressure on them. Besides, she pointed out, he'd seen Ron nude and vice-versa dozens of time in the dorm room or bathrooms. Harry had to concur, but had thought privately that it wasn't the nudity but the enforced intimacy that disturbed him. He said nothing, however, and gamely continued to hold up Ron's bollocks.

Hermione would have left except she was his girlfriend now, and insisted on being on hand in case help or Pomfrey was needed. Truthfully, Ron hadn't really minded.

Fortunately, he thought now, they were all great friends. Still, he wondered if he'd ever live this one down.

"Good thing you knew what I'd have to do, Hermione," he said now, looking for his wand by the bedside. "I couldn't face Pomfrey if I'd had to do that in front of *her*."

She nodded, looking hesitant. "Well, at least now I, um..." she trailed off, looking at Harry who blushed a little and pushed the curtains back enough to step through, carefully not using his slimy hand.

"I think I'll just go wash my arm."

When they heard the door close behind him, Hermione smiled down at Ron, who had finally got hold of his wand and spelled his chest and belly clean.

"As I was about to say, I'm glad I stayed. Now I know what you like."

Ron blushed at this and she smiled.

"This whole time you haven't blushed once, Ron Weasley and *now* you blush."

"I was desperate before, and my bollocks were in agony," he muttered.

"So what's making you blush now?"

"Well... I just wish we'd done that together... you know... *before*. I mean, I still don't know what you like."

Hermione's smile grew. "Is that all?"

He nodded, his blush still staining his freckled cheeks.

"Move over Ronald Weasley."

She quickly slipped out of her clothing, dropping them through the opening in the curtains to the side of his bed, closed the curtains once more and stretched out next to his astonished form.

"Now let's hope that silencing spell holds up for awhile," she said before turning to him with a wicked look in her eyes.

~FIN~


~(*)~ ~(*)~ ~(*)~

Completed: 2 July 2005.

to Bargle5 - thank you! It wasn't easy, believe me. :)

to naiad - thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)

to lemonade - thank you, I'm glad you found it amusing. :)