I tried something different with this one. I wrote the story as usual, then underneath I wrote it in 1st Person, from Molly's POV. I usually suck at first person, and I'm not a woman, so I'm not quite sure how it turned out. Please review and tell me it was any good. Thanks.
Harry turned up the pressure, so that a great deal more hot water crashed onto his shoulders. The bathroom in Grimmauld Place had been expertly restored. The silver, serpentine feet of the bath were shining, the tiled floor was clean and uncracked, and the shower had been added for the convenience of so many people under one roof. Harry's black hair plastered to his face, and he reached, once again, up to move it out of his eyes.
Harry had completely cleaned himself several times, but didn't dare step out of the shower, the warm water was a welcome relief after the frozen, Christmas-y air of the rest of the house. He reached up and took the showerhead from its bracket. Slowly, he moved it round his back, and to other areas that were awkward or hard to clean. He found himself holding the jet pointing at his feet. The rest of his body was getting cold now, so he might as well step out anyway.
Hot water continued to pound at his feet, but a tingling, cold sensation crept down the rest of his body, starting at his shoulders. He shuddered with cold, and raised the jet to his chest again. Warm water cascaded down him, and a thin stream ran in a line down his chest to his inner thigh. He made to move the stream away, and accidentally brushed his favourite appendage with his fingers.
He had only been in the shower for a few minutes, he had plenty of time. He hastily put the showerhead back into its bracket and grasped himself in his other hand. He began to move his hand up and down, slowly, his hand in a very light grip. The water continued to rain down on him, but he was oblivious. Harry got more and more into it. He tightened his grip and pumped himself harder and faster. He was leaning against the wall now, his back sticking to the tiles. Over the pounding water, he barely heard a voice outside.
"Harry, are you nearly done? I need to go in soon!" Hermione called. Snapping himself out of his own head, he replied.
I was, thought Harry. "Yeah, Hermione, I'm nearly done". He tried to carry on where he left off, but couldn't get into it anymore, so he gave up and turned off the water. He reached for his glasses on the side of the bath and put them on. They were fogged up, but that didn't matter, because his hair was plastered to his face anyway. He took them off and rubbed them with his finger. Drawing back the curtain and stepping carefully over the edge of the bath and onto the soft mat, he moved his hair from his eyes and replaced his glasses. Slowly, a large shape came into focus. He stared for a few seconds and realised that Mrs Weasley was bent over right in front of him, picking up some clothes from the floor. Another step and he would have bumped into her.
"I've left you some boxers and a fresh towel, dear". She said, as she scooped up Harry's clothes and straightened up. She immediately dropped them again as she saw Harry, and scooped to pick them up.
"I…I…I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't realise you were done… I heard the water stop and I tried to hurry. I just came to put these clothes in the wash…"
"Mrs Weasley! I was just…" But his still large erection spoke for itself. They both continued to stutter for a few moments until Mrs Weasley stood up, blushing.
"Oh, don't worry, don't worry! Don't you think I haven't seen it all before, with five sons! Were you…" Mrs Weasley looked into his bright green eyes, smiling. He really wished that they weren't so close, but he was rooted to the spot in embarrassment.
"Umm…" Harry knew what Mrs. Weasley meant, but didn't think he could answer. His reluctance gave him away anyway.
"I've caught Arthur doing the same thing." She was trying to keep the awkward conversation casual, but her eyes kept flicking down. Harry wished with all his might that his current "situation" would subside, but the more he thought about it, the less co-operative it seemed to be. He reached for the towel that Mrs Weasley was still holding and wrapped it round his waist, not that it made a great deal of difference.
"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, dear. And make sure you wash your hands!" Mrs Weasley smiled at him, and reached the upper half of her body to give him a hug. Harry really wished she hadn't have done it, the situation was awkward enough. His wet chest was up against hers, and his wet hair dripped onto her shoulders. They were still quite close together and, despite their efforts, the bulge under the towel just touched Mrs Weasley's leg.
She stepped close again and put one hand on his cheek. The other hand, she put on his chest as she looked up into his thin face. Harry didn't know how to react and stood completely still. She stepped back, and smiled again. Between her knitted cardigan, her white blouse was becoming slightly transparent. Harry could see the cups of her bra showing through, and found himself staring.
"You shouldn't be shy dear, sit down." Mrs Weasley forced him to sit on the edge of the bath, and she sat down next to him.
"Everything you're going through…" She raised a finger to stop Harry interrupting "As a boy! You have it hard enough without Voldemort skulking around. If you have any questions, ask me. Or Arthur, if you feel more comfortable talking to him about this kind of thing, being a man. Although, you don't seem to uncomfortable right now." Mrs Weasley chuckled to herself for a second. "How about I give you a hand, and get this over with?"
"No, Mrs Weasley, please, you don't have to. Really." She met the longing gaze in her eyes, and assumed that that time she caught Arthur must have been some time ago. He looked up at her. "Ok, sure".
"Excellent!" Said Mrs Weasley. She pulled the towel off Harry and reached out one hand for him. Her hands were quite small, but as she closed them softly around Harry, he moaned quietly. Each time she moved her hand up or down, it was accompanied by a squelchy, sliding sound from Harry's wet skin. Mrs Weasley sped up, looking down at Harry with concentration on her face. She rubbed him faster and faster, stopping every so often, so that Harry would last longer. Harry moaned into her ear, which spurred her on. After a few minutes of her hand pumping Harry into bliss one stroke at a time, she stopped and stood up.
Harry couldn't see what she did, but in one swift movement, her long skirt fell to the floor and she stepped out of it. Harry stared at her white, lacy panties. They were stretched around her waist, and looked as though they were designed for someone quite a bit younger. A few wiry, red hairs were visible through the lace. Molly Weasley saw the shocked expression on Harry's face and smiled.
"Don't worry, Harry, dear. I know what I'm doing." She slid her cardigan off her arms and it, too, dropped to the floor. Slowly, and somewhat seductively to Harry, she unbuttoned her blouse so that it joined the rest of her clothes. Her large chest emerged as the blouse fell. Each large white cup had a great deal of skin packed into it, and Harry rose his eyes up to stare, mouth open, at Molly Weasley.
Without a word, she pulled her white lace panties down so that they fell to the floor. She looked at Harry and smiled again. She ran her fingers smoothly down her skin, and stopped them just short of the tangle of short, red hair. She took one step towards Harry and, with surprising agility, lifted one leg on to the side of the bath. She pulled herself up and slid herself carefully and slowly down over Harry, who was now very hard, and moaned into his neck as she lowered herself inch by inch. She lifted up the other leg and gripped his thighs with her knees, her feet trailing to the floor.
She placed her hands on Harry's shoulders and began to grind her wide hips. Harry, who had expected her to lift herself up, looked visibly surprised.
"I know what I'm doing, Arthur used to love this." She said. A massive pang of guilt hit him like a shockwave. He had always liked Arthur Weasley, and vice versa, but this was probably the biggest betrayal of his trust possible. Immediately, Harry took Mrs. Weasley's legs in his hands and tried to move her off him.
"Don't worry, Harry" She said, and left it at that. He tried to lift himself up, but inadvertently made Mrs Weasley gasp. Realising that was the stupidest thing he could have possibly done, Harry sat still again, though he realised that Mrs. Weasley was pressing down quite a bit harder on his shoulders now.
Trying to keep his mind distracted, Harry looked around the bathroom for something to concentrate on. Unfortunately, Harry found this difficult. Mrs Weasley had finally started to ride him, and her breasts were bouncing in front of his face, obscuring a lot of his view.
"Grab…them…Harry!" Said Mrs Weasley between moans as she raised herself up his length again. Hesitantly, Harry reached out his hands and pulled the lacy white bra down. The bounciness of her chest seemed to double, and Harry held her breasts in his hands, unsure what to do next.
Despite trying to distract himself, Harry noticed just how amazing this felt for him. In the hands of an experienced woman, he accepted that there was no way out and began to enjoy it. Molly Weasley rose herself up again, slowly, then crashed down on him. He watched himself disappear inside her. She rose herself right up, so that he was nearly in open air again, before she enveloped him in moist paradise again. She slid up and down him faster and faster, and Harry found himself moaning with her. His skin was still wet from the shower, but as she rose herself up again, he was wetter and warmer with her than he had been under there. Her skin was amazingly soft, both inside and out. Her large hips smothered his own, but they were soft and warm. Inside, she wrapped around him like velvet. She clenched herself tighter around him, her knees digging into his legs. He reached around her and unhooked her bra. He lifted it up from her arms and dropped it to the floor.
He began to rub her nipples with his thumbs in soft circles. Her breasts were massive, but he held them firmly in his hands as Mrs Weasley bounced up and down on him to stop them from- rather comically- hitting him in the face.
"Mrs Weasley, I think I'm going to…" Said Harry, short of breath.
"That's fine dear." She opened her eyes to look down at him and smiled sympathetically.
"Shall I just…?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no. I would love to let you come inside me, Harry, but I don't think you should. For Arthur's sake, you know."
"Right" Said Harry, confused "So where…"
"Leave it to me, dear".
Harry watched Molly apparently deep in thought. She seemed to come to a decision and climbed off him. She reached out a hand for him again. Harry moaned as she took him, and only lasted a few seconds until, at long last, he reached his orgasm into her hand.
"Let me help you clean that up dear". Molly said. She reached for some toilet roll, ripped some off and gave it to Harry. In awkward silence, they wiped themselves off and dumped them into the toilet. Harry pulled the towel around himself.
"I'm going to catch my breath and maybe have a quick shower before dinner. Off you, Harry" She said, climbing into the bath, but not pulling the curtain across. Harry left the room, wandering if he should tell her that Hermione intended to go in next.
Molly's POV
I'd gone into the bathroom holding his towel and a pair of boxers. The shower hadn't been on too long. I peeked through the keyhole and saw that Harry still had the water running and the curtain drawn. He was silhouetted against the curtain.
Silently, I pushed the door open and stepped onto the cold, black and white tiled floor. The clothes Harry had been wearing when he entered the bathroom were in a heap by the sink. I needed to wash the last of his clothes as well as everyone else's before they departed for Hogwarts tomorrow. I placed the things she was carrying on the floor and bent to pick up Harry's old clothes.
He had shouted: "Yeah, Hermione, I'm nearly done!" really loud. I was caught off-guard and I jumped, dropping all of his clothes. It had been quite surprising to hear him shout so suddenly, and I must have missed him turning off the shower because a few seconds later I realised that it had stopped.
"I've left you some boxers and a fresh towel, dear" I had said, assuming he was still in the shower. Then I heard his footsteps behind me and turned around.
Harry had been stood in front of me, completely naked. I was shocked, but I kept looking down at him, stunned. I had never thought of Harry as this kind of boy. For a teenager with so much going on, it seemed strange that he did something so…normal. Nevertheless, I was stunned, and stuttered to him.
"I…I…I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't realise you were done… I heard the water stop and I tried to hurry. I just came to put these clothes in the wash…" I had said.
"Mrs Weasley! I was just…" He replied, staring at me. I glanced down again. It was quite obvious what he had been doing. I looked him in the eyes and gave him an understanding smile.
"Oh, don't worry, don't worry! Don't you think I haven't seen it all before, with five sons! Were you…?" I smiled at him and how embarrassed and flustered he was. His cheeks were red and he was stuttering worse than I was. We were still very close together, but I didn't even realise back then.
"I've caught Arthur doing the same thing." I was trying to make it sound casual, even though that had been about five years previously. I said it wasn't a big deal and not to worry, but Harry didn't seem to agree. Still though, my eyes kept flicking down to him, and despite himself, his erection wasn't going. I held out the towel for him and he took it to wrap around his waist, not that it made a great deal of difference. There was just a bigger area to draw attention to it. He could've been hiding a tent down there.
"Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, dear. And make sure you wash your hands!" I tried to leave quickly before he noticed me staring at him, and I reached to hug him.
That was probably the stupidest thing I could have done. My cardigan was unbuttoned, and the white strip of blouse between the sides turned translucent. Even as I looked down at myself I could see my bra start to show through, so surely he must have seen it too? Then, to make it even worse, his massively conspicuous bulge rubbed against my leg. I know it was awful, and spontaneous and childish of me, but I couldn't resist then.
Me and Arthur never did anything any more. So here I was. Deprived, with a good-looking boy practically rubbing his penis against my leg. I hadn't had the amazingly erotic feeling of something so hard and warm pressed against my thigh in so long. Not even in hugs from Arthur. I couldn't give you a size, but for his age, it wasn't half bad.
Acting on impulse, I put a hand on his chest and looked into his face. Bless him, he seemed awkward and uncomfortable. He just stood there, stiff. Though I was right of course in guessing that he had seen through my blouse.
"You shouldn't be shy dear, sit down." I sat him on the edge of the bath and tried to talk to him. Losing his parents so young, he had never had "the talk" or anything, so I told him that he could always trust me and Arthur. He looked uncomfortable so I dropped it, but before I could stop myself, the other question sprung forth.
"How about I give you a hand, and get this over with?"
Of course, he protested. Poor boy must have been shocked. I didn't handle it very well, though. He looked at me briefly and resigned to it. I pulled the towel off him and hesitated for a split second before taking him in my hand.
Wow. Even in the few night-time fumbles me and Arthur had had, he hadn't been as hard as this. I don't know what Harry had been thinking of before, but he was hard for me now, which gave me confidence enough to know that it wasn't me who couldn't arouse Arthur any more, it was the other way around.
I could feel the raw, warm muscle beneath my hand. A thin vein running down the side rested under my fingers. It extended more than the size of my palm. I don't think I could ever forget how he moaned when I first grabbed him. It was like years of tension about to be released. He was still wet from the shower, but it meant that my hand glided up and down with ease, and he seemed to love that. He moaned into my ear. To know that I was making a man feel this way again… He was loving every moment, and I was responsible.
It wasn't enough any more. I couldn't be satisfied knowing that he was being pleasured and that I had nothing to gain. Acting without thinking too much, I stood up and reached round the back of my skirt, which trailed down to my feet. Undoing the hooks and the zip, I let it drop to the floor.
It was a massively lucky coincidence that I happened to be wearing my good underwear that day. If I had been wearing my usual, shapeless and boring underwear, or god forbid a pair of Arthur's, I would've died when he looked at them. I don't know what he thought of them. He was shocked, that's for sure. I think he liked it, they were revealing white lace, and while they looked sexier in my prime, I think I pulled it off. I pulled off my cardigan and blouse as well to show him my matching bra. I've caught the young boy staring before, at me or Tonks or whoever. Even Ginevra, but I turned a blind eye. Now though, he had all eyes on me, and that's what matters. He looked genuinely surprised.
It had been long enough. I pulled the white lace down and stood smiling at him. I ran my fingers gently down my body. Save for the odd finger on a lonely night, I hadn't had anything real in there in years. Still though, seeing his wet erection, with some come dripping down it already, was more than enough to get me as wet as he was. I tried to tease him seductively, but my own apprehension was too high and I couldn't do it. I just wanted him in there.
I lifted my legs up onto the bath, and lowered myself onto him. Already, I could have orgasmed. Having seven kids somewhat loosens your vagina, but I was still tight enough to have him fill me up. I was squatting over him, holding his shoulders, and I had only lowered myself over the head of his erection. I gasped, and slid the rest of him slowly inside me.
I did what I used to do for Arthur. Grinding my hips over him. It surprised him, but it gets me closer to having an orgasm with him, and it makes him last longer. I think mentioning Arthur out loud might have scared him, because he tried to lift my, regrettably large, thighs from his legs. I forced him down and told him not to worry about it. I think he did, because he trusted himself even further into me. I wish so much that he had kept doing it, I wanted him as deep as possible. I held him down though, he wasn't getting away now.
I started to ride him. Lifting myself up, and sliding down again. I could slide up and down him so easily. I was wet from my first encounter in years, and he from the shower. It was so hot! I quivered every time I slid down him. He didn't seem to cooperate much, and didn't seem to know what to do.
I was moaning with pleasure by this point, even without him driving himself deeper. He was staring at my breasts again, and I realised that that was what was missing. I managed to get out three words between my gasps.
"Grab them, Harry!" Even now I don't know how the family didn't know. They must have heard or realised that Harry hadn't come out even though the water had stopped. But anyway, finally he realised to just enjoy it. He pulled down my bra, and my breasts were free. Bouncing with me, they slapped against my skin. He took them in his hands, but that it was it for a minute or two, before he did anything else.
He seemed to zone out for a bit, so I clenched myself even tighter around him. He responded, and held my breasts down, now I could see his face. It was flushed red and embarrassed. He started to rub his thumb around my nipples, and in no time at all they were as hard as he was. I grabbed the back of his head and leaned forwards, pushing one of my massive breasts flat against his face. I took the other one in my hand, and started pulling and teasing the nipple. I could feel a tingling where he exhaled through his nose, the cold air on my hard nipple felt amazing. I quivered again, and unable to control myself, let loose my own orgasm. Fluids flooded through me and over him. It leaked out from where he was entering me, and made his lap wet and his coarse black hair glisten.
I sped up, and I could tell he was close himself. He breathed out from his mouth as he panted, and the sudden contrast into warm air on my breast sent shockwaves through me. I leaned forward more, so much so that he had to lean back a bit. I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming too loud as he finally opened his mouth to my breast. I pushed it more into his face and thrust my waist over him even faster. He sucked lightly on my nipple. The darker skin filled most of his mouth. He flicked his tongue around it. Circling. He pushed it gently, pressing my nipple into my skin. I arched my back and shut my eyes as another wave of pleasure flooded me. I threw myself back, breasts away from his face, and kissed him. My breasts were still against his chest, and I was still pounding onto him, but now we were connected at the lips as well. He kissed me back, wasting no time in finding my tongue with his own. He drew away, and looked at me.
"Mrs Weasley, I think I'm going to…" he said, short of breath.
"That's fine dear." I opened my eyes to look down at him and smiled sympathetically.
"Shall I just…?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no. I would love to let you come inside me, Harry, but I don't think you should. For Arthur's sake, you know." I don't know why I said that. How much difference would it have made when I've already just cheated on him? I just wouldn't be right on Arthur though.
With the greatest regret, I climbed off Harry's lap. He stayed sat on the edge of the bath, wet, flushed with colour and entirely worn out. I smiled at him again, and reached out my hand again. He moaned, and it only took a few strokes before he finally let lose into my hand. He dropped himself to the floor and slumped against the side of the bath. I gave him some toilet roll and we cleaned up quickly, but I didn't feel that I could look at him, mainly from my own embarrassment. Now it was over I realised how weird it had been. I think he felt the same, because he was avoiding looking at me whenever I glanced at him.
"I think I'm going to go in now. Off you go, Harry." And I climbed into the bath myself and turned on the shower as Harry walked out the room, wrapped in his towel.