shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2005-03-01 01:46:00 |
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Massage Oil - H/R - NC-17
Title: Massage Oil
Author:shocfix
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 497
Rating: NC-17
A smutlet for my Harry/Ron claim at 50_smutlets.
Massage Oil
****
So, the case was over, Harry and Susan had handed in their notice and taken some well earned annual leave.
Ron came home from work to find Harry lying on the couch, on his tummy, one arm dangling onto the floor.
“What’ya doing?” he asked, sitting on the arm of the couch, by Harry’s head, and running his fingers through the uncombed black hair.
“Aching,” Harry muttered.
“As in ‘for me to fuck you through the couch’?” Ron asked.
“No,” Harry moaned. “As in my legs ache from wearing high heels for six weeks; my arse aches from being pinched for six weeks; my face aches from smiling through it all for six weeks.”
“Poor baby,” Ron said, his fingers flexing as he rubbed Harry’s temples. “D’you need a massage?”
Harry snorted. “You just want to touch me,” he complained.
“Course I do,” Ron laughed. “But it’ll do you good, too.”
He raised his wand and Summoned the oil that Hermione had given them.
Harry reached for the neck of his t-shirt and tried to haul it off over his head, and Ron tutted and Banished his t-shirt and boxers.
“Pervert,” Harry snorted.
“I’m not wasting a massage on a Weird Sisters t-shirt,” Ron pointed out.
He poured some oil into his cupped hand and rubbed his hands together.
Starting at Harry’s tense shoulders, he started caressing him, his hands moving in sweeping circles, fingers pressing into stressed muscles, exotic scents and Harry’s moans filling the air between them.
His fingers climbed down Harry’s spine, bone by bone, leaving him feeling heavy and limp in their path.
Being heavy and far from limp in the cock trapped between his body and the couch cushions, Harry groaned as Ron bypassed his arse and settled at his feet.
Bending each leg up at the knee, like a patient horse, Ron’s strong fingers released all the tension in Harry’s poor, abused feet.
Harry sighed as Ron’s hands moved over his ankles and up his calves, smoothing away the knots and stress and leaving him aching in only the right places.
Planting a knee between Harry’s legs, Ron’s hands smoothed his thighs and back and hips and finally settled on his arse.
Harry arched up into the hands that were moving in circles on his cheeks, squeezing and parting them and letting a slippery thumb slip between them.
Ron paused to dribble oil between his cheeks and Harry whimpered as a fingertip ran in oily circles, round and round and round his entrance.
Judging the exact moment that Harry was hypnotised by the intimate caress, Ron’s fingers slipped inside.
Harry thrust up onto the fingers probing him, letting Ron’s other hand slip beneath his body and stroke his aching cock.
Then Ron’s clever fingers hit the right spot and Harry fell apart, grinding into Ron’s hand as he came.
“That part of the service?” he muttered.
“Absolutely,” Ron said, dropping a kiss into his hair. “There’s nothing like an internal massage.”
My Table.
Title: Massage Oil
Author:
shocfixPairing: Harry/Ron
Words: 497
Rating: NC-17
A smutlet for my Harry/Ron claim at 50_smutlets.
Massage Oil
****
So, the case was over, Harry and Susan had handed in their notice and taken some well earned annual leave.
Ron came home from work to find Harry lying on the couch, on his tummy, one arm dangling onto the floor.
“What’ya doing?” he asked, sitting on the arm of the couch, by Harry’s head, and running his fingers through the uncombed black hair.
“Aching,” Harry muttered.
“As in ‘for me to fuck you through the couch’?” Ron asked.
“No,” Harry moaned. “As in my legs ache from wearing high heels for six weeks; my arse aches from being pinched for six weeks; my face aches from smiling through it all for six weeks.”
“Poor baby,” Ron said, his fingers flexing as he rubbed Harry’s temples. “D’you need a massage?”
Harry snorted. “You just want to touch me,” he complained.
“Course I do,” Ron laughed. “But it’ll do you good, too.”
He raised his wand and Summoned the oil that Hermione had given them.
Harry reached for the neck of his t-shirt and tried to haul it off over his head, and Ron tutted and Banished his t-shirt and boxers.
“Pervert,” Harry snorted.
“I’m not wasting a massage on a Weird Sisters t-shirt,” Ron pointed out.
He poured some oil into his cupped hand and rubbed his hands together.
Starting at Harry’s tense shoulders, he started caressing him, his hands moving in sweeping circles, fingers pressing into stressed muscles, exotic scents and Harry’s moans filling the air between them.
His fingers climbed down Harry’s spine, bone by bone, leaving him feeling heavy and limp in their path.
Being heavy and far from limp in the cock trapped between his body and the couch cushions, Harry groaned as Ron bypassed his arse and settled at his feet.
Bending each leg up at the knee, like a patient horse, Ron’s strong fingers released all the tension in Harry’s poor, abused feet.
Harry sighed as Ron’s hands moved over his ankles and up his calves, smoothing away the knots and stress and leaving him aching in only the right places.
Planting a knee between Harry’s legs, Ron’s hands smoothed his thighs and back and hips and finally settled on his arse.
Harry arched up into the hands that were moving in circles on his cheeks, squeezing and parting them and letting a slippery thumb slip between them.
Ron paused to dribble oil between his cheeks and Harry whimpered as a fingertip ran in oily circles, round and round and round his entrance.
Judging the exact moment that Harry was hypnotised by the intimate caress, Ron’s fingers slipped inside.
Harry thrust up onto the fingers probing him, letting Ron’s other hand slip beneath his body and stroke his aching cock.
Then Ron’s clever fingers hit the right spot and Harry fell apart, grinding into Ron’s hand as he came.
“That part of the service?” he muttered.
“Absolutely,” Ron said, dropping a kiss into his hair. “There’s nothing like an internal massage.”
My Table.