Then he'd gotten so damn turned on that he'd dry-fucking-humped the man and nearly came in his trousers, then in true Ronald Weasley fashion, he'd panicked and run away. Before Draco could protest, or dwell any more on his tactical error, Harry was dropping to his knees in front of him, hands fumbling with the fasteners of Draco's denims, forcing them down around his thighs. Ron did his best to swallow what he could, but after a few more strokes on his cock, he completely lost focus and his climax washed over him like a tidal wave. He picked up speed, each thrust punctuated by a cry from Ron as his prostate was hit, and a moan from Draco as he focused on the feeling of Ron's tight ass around his dick. You never know," Draco replied with a shrug. He needed to forget about his horrendously annoying girlfriend named Lavender Brown. Here all of this was. Food had always done him well, cheered him up when he was sad, made him feel better when he was sick, no matter what was going on, food was always there. She wisely chose to dig in to a bowl of porridge instead, her eyes glued to the table to keep herself from staring. Unable to think of anything to say to her, or anything to do other than gape or hyperventilate, Ron fled. He wrapped his hand around his shaft and stroked once down its length, moaning around Draco's cock as he did so. But he was definitely imagining Draco's mouth around his cock. I included my own version of a certain line that most of you should recognize. He was still harder than hell, he wanted Draco like he'd never wanted anyone before, and standing this close to him was just killing him. Ron pulled his hair tighter, hearing strands snap, but Draco betrayed no sign of discomfort aside from his straining neck muscles. One second ticked by, then two, before Harry's face split with silent laughter.