Draco Malfoy was a dirty boy, or at least that’s what he’d been told.

He’d accidentally stumbled upon a book that one of his dorm-mates had so carelessly left locked in a trunk. How was Draco supposed to have ignored it? How could anyone ignore a book titled Gay Sex and the Modern Wizard? Seriously.

As Draco flipped through the very illustrated pages, his cock had grown un-unaccountably hard. There were instructional photographs on everything from Analingus (see also: Rimming) to Prostate Stimulation. Draco had no fucking clue what a prostate was, or why one would want it stimulated, but by Merlin, he was going to find out.

Starting, of course, with the Analingus page, Draco read voraciously. The thought of someone’s tongue licking his arsehole probably should have put him off a bit, but it didn’t. It had the opposite effect: he was briefly considering a well-placed Imperius to get someone to do it to him. Actually finding a willing partner was a mere afterthought.

Draco almost skipped the chapter on blowjobs entirely. He’d gotten two of those from Pansy over the summer, and they hadn’t been very memorable. He was suddenly glad he’d at least skimmed the section when he saw this bit, though: “. . .can be achieved by inserting a finger (or two) into the recipient’s anus and curving them upward to stroke the prostate.” Judging by the photograph on the page, this prostate thing was surely something wonderful. He flipped to the chapter toward the end of the book to see why.

Twenty minutes later, after having read the passage three times, Draco was formulating a plan. He made a mental list of everything he would need: some sort of lubricating agent and something to stick up his arse. So what that it was a short list; the bulk of his brainpower (not to mention blood flow) was focused elsewhere.

After sifting through his unfortunate dorm-mate’s trunk once more, Draco found a small vial of Something Useful. That’s what the label had read, at any rate, and it seemed the right consistency. As far as the something to stick up his arse, Draco was most assuredly not going to go looking for it in another boy’s trunk. No cleansing charm in the world was strong enough for that.

The thought suddenly occurred to Draco that he was a wizard, and as a wizard, he had been gifted a long and powerful (and decidedly phallic) piece of, er, wood that would satisfy his current less-than-magical need. He held the wand in his hand, contemplating the best way to go about his task and finally decided to go handle-in to prevent any accidentally muttered curses from doing any damage.

After locking the trunk back up and closing his curtains, Draco unstoppered the vial and poured some of the liquid onto his fingertips. The book had said to rub the lubricant over and inside his hole for maximum comfort and enjoyment. He’d never been touched there sexually, so it went without saying that the sensation was wholly new and rather interesting. As he slid his finger in and out of his own body, his cock twitched with anticipation. This new feeling was already much better than the one he’d gotten when Pansy’d clumsily sucked him off.

When he thought he was slicked up enough, Draco rubbed some of the lubricant onto the handle of his wand. He mentally consulted the now locked-away book, and remembered that relaxation was of the utmost importance. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he pressed the wand against his opening and pushed slowly in. He imagined what he must look like, lying on his bed with his wand up his arse, and had to suppress a chuckle. Yes, Malfoys did chuckle, if the situation warranted. With the hand that was not busy fucking himself on his wand, Draco pulled at his cock. The double assault on his sensitive areas drove him completely over the edge, and he came rather too quickly for his tastes.


Draco spent every night for the next month practising his endurance. He figured that if he ever found someone to share in his newfound hobby, he didn’t want to embarrass himself by blasting off before the countdown had even begun.

He practised with his wand some more, but after a few days, he decided he needed something bigger. He needed something more the size of a real cock, because he had decided he definitely wanted to feel a real cock up his arse. The mere idea of being fucked by someone was enough to get his pulse racing. So, in an effort to accommodate his training needs, he stole into the kitchen late one evening and nicked off with three carrots, each thicker and longer than the last. One of them would surely satisfy his body’s hunger, pun very much intended.

Having used up his entire supply of Something Useful, Draco had to resort to stealing cooking oil as well. He imagined it would be just as good, though somewhat messier and not as pleasantly fragrant. It was a necessity however, because he had tried his trick once with just his own saliva, and the result had been less than optimal.

When he got back up to his dorm, he eyed the carrots, deciding which to use first. He immediately decided to forgo the smaller vegetables, since he had never been one to delay his own satisfaction with something so trivial as common sense. Any means to an end; the end being his screaming orgasm, and the means being a four inch thick carrot that he cleverly transfigured to look like a penis (foreskin and all).

Draco opened himself up with his fingers as he had become so adept at doing over the last few weeks, and without hesitation, eased the orange cock inside.

Whoa.

This was different.

He felt so full, so stretched, and so fucking dirty.

Draco lifted and spread his legs, his feet firmly braced on the bedstead, and fucked himself stupid with his new toy. Though he had made sure to cast the requisite silencing charms over his bed, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be discovered looking so utterly wanton. He almost removed the charm, but reconsidered this or two reasons: one, he was fucking himself with a carrot, and two, it was never very wise to let Slytherins see you doing something weird, no matter how fantastic it was.


The light of day had brought with it much needed clarity. Rather than continuing his nightly ritual in the semi-privacy of his charmed bed, Draco had decided to use the Room of Requirement. He was rather familiar with the room as it was, but thought it could be used for a more pleasant purpose.

That evening, with his desires in mind, Draco paced the seventh floor corridor. When the door appeared, he opened it, and was pleased to see what awaited him inside. There was a bed much like his own, with a small table next to it. On the table, to Draco’s sheer amazement, were a bottle of Something Useful, a copy of Gay Sex and the Modern Wizard, and a deliciously large and realistic-looking dildo. His cock hardened as he imagined filling his arse with all eight inches of the flesh-coloured silicone, and it was all he could do to keep himself from ripping his own trousers off and flinging himself carelessly onto the bed.


He had just about finished lubing himself up, and was about to shove the phallus into his greedy hole, when the door burst open. Draco went soft. In is eagerness to bring himself off, he had forgotten to charm the door. Harry Potter now stood in the open doorway, his wand drawn and his mouth hanging open. He nonchalantly pushed the door closed with his foot and started toward the bed.

Draco’s cock made a quick recovery when he saw the tent in Potter’s trousers.

Gods, but Potter was confident.

And suddenly naked.

Draco complied as he was commanded to lie on the bed, and Draco complied as he was commanded to spread his legs as wide as humanly possible. And Draco fucking well complied as he was commanded to hand over the lube and the dildo.

He was at a loss, however, when Potter snatched his tie from the floor and tied it snugly around his cock and balls. This was getting curiouser and curiouser by the second.

Draco moaned when Potter pushed the dildo into his arse and began fucking him with it. With his free hand, his sexual benefactor was stroking his own cock at half the speed. That took coordination, and if he hadn’t been busy enjoying his torture, Draco would have been impressed.


Just when Draco thought he would pass the hell out, Potter- in what seemed like one swift movement- clamped his lips over the head of Draco’s cock and loosened the tie. His orgasm was so forceful that Draco was surprised when Potter didn’t choke on the stream of hot spunk that was no doubt hitting the very back of his throat. The brave, brave Gryffindor swallowed every drop with a smile curling on his stretched lips while he held Draco down on the bed.

After riding out the last waves of his rather fierce orgasm, Draco lay with his eyes closed and panting. He didn’t see Potter grasping hold of his thick, hard cock and positioning it at Draco’s still-spasming hole. He was shocked right out of his post-coital bliss, however, when said cock was thrust balls deep in one go. He cried out in renewed ecstasy as Potter pounded him into the bed and into oblivion.


“You’re a dirty boy, Malfoy,” Potter had said after he’d gotten dressed. Draco was still sprawled out on the bed, his chest heaving. “And I like dirty boys.” As his rival-cum-bedmate closed the door to the Room of Requirement, and he was left alone again, Draco reached again for the bottle of Something Useful and the well-used rubber dick.

- END -

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