The Keeper of the Stone
A strong moan was followed by a swift release of fluids that ended up in the mouth of the famous Harry Potter, while his wife convulsed from the orgasm that the "Boy Who Lived" gave her. Ginny Potter-Weasley was an extremely satisfied wife. She took her husband's face, one of the most famous magicians of all time, and planted a deep, saliva-filled kiss on him, one of those that only she knew how to give.
“Dear, that was amazing!”
“I know, I’ve got my tricks. Do you want to return the favor to me, Ginny?”
“I would love to, dear, although I think they have already taken my spot, hehe.”
While it was true that Harry and Ginny were sexually satisfied spouses, it never hurt to bring more elements into the relationship to turn the flame of passion into a firestorm. Sometimes, that extra component was the couple's best friend, who never ignored a call from the Potters to come have fun in their bed. As Ginny kissed her husband again, the sheets moved, and a tuft of brown hair peeked out. Hermione Granger had a lustful smile on her shining face.
“You can join me if you want, Ginny, there's a lot to hold on to.”
“Great! Harry, darling, do you mind if Hermione and I suck your cock together while we wait for the others?”
"Not at all, go ahead," said Harry, resting his head on his hands with a smile of complete delight, while his wife and their friend played with his manhood under the sheets.
Suck, suck, suck, was the sound of Hermione’s mouth around his shaft.
Lick, lick, kiss, were the sounds of Ginny’s tongue on the tip of his prick.
Life had not stopped smiling at Harry Potter and his friends since they defeated the most dangerous wizard in history. Now, somehow, he had a sort of harem with at least five beautiful, passionate nymphomaniacs. And it all began many years ago, at Hogwarts, the most prestigious school of magic in the United Kingdom...
Many years ago...
Diagon Alley, London
Everything had happened too quickly. Just in a couple of days, after dozens of owls appeared at his house bringing letters, Harry Potter found out that he was a wizard. One of those who perform real magic. A very friendly half-giant who worked as a Keeper at a School of Magic, Rubeus Hagrid, arrived at his home where he lived with his uncles, and took him to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, where he discovered that he had enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life. He used that money to buy himself a uniform, a wand, and a beautiful owl named Hedwig.
Additionally, Hagrid had gone to Gringotts for another purpose, something secret and sinister, a long and solitary object that he withdrew from a vault, which Hagrid kept in an equally mysterious box.
But Harry was much more interested in another matter, which was that wherever he went in the magical side of London, everyone looked at him with a mix of astonishment, strangeness, and a certain degree of mischief that Harry did not understand...
“Hagrid?” he asked once more, as they entered another building, carrying the chests filled with clothes, books, and other items they had bought. It had been a very hectic day indeed. This time, the building was at the back of a dark and narrow alley, although there were a couple of neon lights outside.
"Wait a second, Harry," said the giant, searching for something (or someone) with his gaze after entering the place.
It looked like a dive bar. Men of all ages were drinking a variety of liquors at small tables, there was a strong smell of scotch in the air, and everyone was laughing like maniacs. The only two things that differentiated this bar from the idea of a bar that Harry had in his head were, first, that everyone started to look at him and whisper his name upon entering; and second, there were ladies in minimal clothing, some dancing, and others looking at the boy with lust.
“Hagrid, where…?”
“I’m tellin’ yhe to wait fer me, Harry. Ah, there she is!”
A young woman with silver hair that seemed to float as she walked by, skin white and shiny like the moon, golden eyes and stunning curves, dressed in a black bikini, dark high-heeled boots, and a miniskirt that barely covered her bottom, approached Harry and Hagrid with suggestive steps. She seemed older than Harry... but not by much. When she opened her mouth, her voice was like the song of a siren, and Harry couldn't help but feel a slight tingle in his groin, the same one he used to experience when he saw Aunt Petunia doing yoga in those tight clothes, or when he was left home alone and watched adult movies on the telly.
“’Agrid, da’ling, it’s lovely to see you”, she said with her strong French accent, greeting the half-giant with a flirtatious kiss on his cheek covered in thick black beard.
“Fleur, blessed are the eyes that see yeh. Harry, she is Fleur Delacour, a good... Hehe, a good frien’ o’ mine. She studies at Beauxbatons Academy in France, but ev’ry now and then she comes ‘ere to earn some extra money, hehe. Fleur, he is Harry Potter.”
The whispers around Harry increased, as did the size of Fleur's eyes, who looked him up and down. A mischievous smile formed on her face.
“I see. ‘Arry Potter. You have brought me such a famous young man for me to teach you the virtues of France, ‘Agrid? What an honor!” she said, her face close to Harry's lips.
“Not today, Fleur, today it will be just me. And me payment is you-know-what,” said Hagrid, winking at Fleur, and lowering his voice.
“Oh, ‘Agrid, come with me now!”
Harry and Hagrid entered a small room at the back of the bar, following Fleur's round ass. In the room there was only a dressing table, a bedside table, and a huge bed covered by semi-transparent curtains. During the ride, Hagrid had explained to him that Beauxbatons’s Headmistress was in love with Hagrid, but that he was seeing her only as an excuse to see the young, sexy model from the academy. Also, he told her that Fleur was a Veela, nymphs capable of doing all sorts of incredible things with men.
“She's a what?”
“Oh, forget it. Did yeh have a question, Harry?” asked Hagrid, as he sat down on the bed, which rocked under his weight, and pulled out the box he had taken from the bank. Fleur took the box, happy as a child, and opened it as Harry stood before them.
“Hey, y-yes... It's this thing about... Why does everyone know my name? How come everyone knows who I am?”
“That's easy. Yeh’ve a lightning bolt shaped scar on yer forehead, and everyone knows what that means. Yer’ the Boy Who Lived.”
“But why?” Harry insisted. At that moment, Fleur gasped and pulled out the object. It had a long, somewhat curved shape that began with two glowing spheres, and ended in a glowing scarlet bulb, just like the rest of it. It was so bright that the entire room was filled with red lights.
“Yes. Mon dieu, it is! Ze Philosopher's Stone! Can I use it, ‘Agrid?”
“Of course, as long as yeh don't leave me unattended,” Hagrid said, unzipping his pants, to Harry's surprise.
Fleur turned around, giving Hagrid her back, and sensually sat between on his lap, taking care to make every movement sinuous, sexy and beautiful. As she gave long bounces on Hagrid's legs, Fleur licked the length of the Philosopher's Stone, never for a second taking her eyes off Harry with desire.
“Oh, that's it, dear, lick and suck on that Stone, it’ll bring you at least three hundred more years o’ youth if yeh use it well... Harry, a very evil wizard whose name I ain’t sayin’, killed yer parents when yeh were butta baby.”
“What? Wait, Hagrid, you're saying my parents were murd...?”
After putting the Philosopher's Stone in her mouth and lifting up her miniskirt, Fleur moved aside the black lace panties she was wearing and sat down on something huge that was inserted into her body. Something huge. An incredibly huge thing growing up like a tall, thick meat tree between Hagrid’s legs.
“That's how I like it, little bitch, enjoy me willy, hehe. Ah, Harry, yes, that wizard killed them, but then he tried to kill yeh and sum’ow the spell bounced back, left that mark on yer forehead, and he disappear. Yeh beat the ugliest wizard ever when yeh still couldn't wipe the snot off yerself. Yer famous, Harry. Blimey, Fleur, aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh.”
“’Agrid, zat's it, oui, just like zat day at the academy, mmmm.
“Ahhhhh, argh… yeah, bitch…”
Harry began rubbing his erection against his own pants and looked at the two of them, still wrestling in his head the excitement against the revelation that his parents had been killed by an evil wizard. His cock felt so good, though…
Fleur Belacour, small in comparison to the big man she was jumping on, shoved the Philosopher's Stone deep into her throat, covering it with drool. Amid moans and guttural sounds, Hagrid gripped the Veela’s schoolgirl's breasts tightly with one hand, and after a scream, fell limp on the bed.
Fleur stood up with a satisfied smile and lustfully walked over to Harry, giving tender final licks to what she had put in her mouth. She brought one hand down and stroked his cock over his pants, making him moan until he felt the same warmth he felt during the nights when he saw girls in sportswear running around the park in front of his house.
“Zat's right, ‘Arry, enjoy… Mmm, I ‘ope you'll visit me soon all by yourself, oui? I'm going to clean zis little toy, and when I come back, and ‘Agrid wakes up, you can take it with you. I'm going to enjoy zees ‘undreds of new years that the Philosopher's Stone gave me. Very soon I wish to have the famous ‘Arry Potter between my legs... Oh, oui, are you coming, da’ling?
“Ughhhh...”
“Oui, oui, cum… cum.”