Chapter 50Chapter TextShe crashed onto him like a hurricane, pressing her entire body against his as close as the fabric still between them would allow. It wasn't exactly comfortable to snog in a chair, but Hermione was kissing him so fiercely and grinding against him so mercilessly that Harry's brain short-circuited as all the blood rushed from it straight to his cock.
"Harry, I need you! Please, Harry!"
"Ah…" he choked on air as she pressed her mound against his rapidly hardening length again, and a moment later, he jolted when he felt her lips on his neck.
It was as if she'd been possessed, but Harry had no intention of complaining, let alone figuring out what had gotten into her. He'd already been half-hard when she'd pounced on him, and it was all the fault of those... books.
Bloody hell, the things in them! Dobby had been absolutely right – the Room of Requirement was a truly incredible thing!
And it had all started so innocently...
Not wanting to disturb Hermione, who was already buried head-first in the literature (looking quite manic, to be honest), Harry went to wander the aisles alone, hoping to find something useful or at least not terribly boring. From past experience, he already knew that most medical texts were dreadfully dry and convoluted and could put you to sleep in minutes.
His fingers trailed aimlessly across leather spines: "A Collection of Recipes for a Melancholy Oven", "A Compendium of Unfulfilled Dreams and Tangled Knots", "Correspondence with Your Future Self (with Answers)", "A Guide to Raising Tame Thunderstorms"... Could anyone find something like this in the regular Hogwarts library, a couple of floors down? Truthfully, he had no idea. But then again, he didn't spend nearly as much time there as Hermione did. From time to time, out of boredom, he'd open a volume, only to close it again just as quickly, disappointed – most of it was far too complex for him to understand.
The shelves stretched on and on, and he was getting further and further from his starting point – it felt like he'd walked at least a kilometre by now. He walked straight ahead, not turning off anywhere so as not to get lost – the last thing he needed was to be trapped in a non-existent magical library in a Room that no one but house-elves knew about. Each step kicked up a tiny cloud of dust as he walked in absolute silence...
It was terribly boring, and after another ten minutes or so of this pointless wandering, he began to yawn widely.
"I wonder what time it is? Is it lunchtime yet? Hmm... It was so sunny this morning..."
Thanks to a hearty breakfast, he wasn't hungry yet, but he was desperate to be outside and have a fly, even though he knew it was impossible. Even if Madam Pomfrey let him on a broom, Hermione wouldn't like it, and Harry didn't want to upset her again or risk an injury that would leave him useless for the next few days.
He glanced at the shelves again, but now, as if to taunt him, they were filled with titles like "The Art of Quidditch", "Aerial Manoeuvres for Professionals", and "Honourable Opponents"... He deliberately didn't touch them, so as not to be tempted. After a while, more peculiar titles began to appear, like "Memoirs of a Huntswoman", "Prohibited Techniques" and "Amusing Broomstick Flights for the Daringest Ladies and Most Determined Gentlemen".
Did they contain secret feints or forbidden moves or something? Too intrigued by the last title to just ignore it, Harry finally pulled the last one from the shelf.
Like everything else, it was quite dusty and old. Its cover was so worn that the title was barely legible, and it looked as if it had been reread many, many times before. Harry made out an embossed image of a plump witch on a broom, only her riding position was rather... odd. Not very comfortable for flying, to be honest, but perhaps they played Quidditch differently in the past?
"Maybe it's some old flying manual?"
The pages inside were thick and tattered and fell open in the middle.
"Chapter VII: 'An Unforeseen Match in the Showers'," Harry read to himself and snorted. "What's this rubbish? Who plays matches in the showers?"
Oh, he understood now. It was probably one of those pointless joke books that students liked to amuse themselves with. Usually, the stories were just silly, and the spells never worked, but for some reason, wizards considered that humour. Sometimes, Harry really didn't get them...
<< The Hufflepuff bathing chambers, which ordinarily emitted such pious sounds as to recall the lowing of a peaceful herd of cattle in a distant field, were on this evening filled with quite other symphonies. At their centre, like a sacrifice offered upon the altar of some pagan deity, lay Lady Penelope Butler, huntress for the Hufflepuff team – a maiden endowed by nature with a form so generous that any Quaffle in her vicinity might feel itself inadequate.
And these treasures, now soapy and slick, had become the object of the most particular attentions of two gentlemen from the Slytherin team, who by the turn of fortune's wheel (or by some darker agency) had found themselves within the very same chambers...>>
Harry's eyebrows shot up into his fringe. This wasn't a textbook. Definitely. And it wasn't a joke book either. Whatever this was, it had nothing to do with the Quidditch guides or players' memoirs he'd seen before. Rather surprised, Harry he continued reading.
<< The first was Lord Cassian Malfoy, Seeker, whose arrogance was surpassed only by the length of his pale aristocratic nose, yet the "seeker's staff" concealed beneath his towel promised far more interest than his tedious discourse on the purity of blood. The second was his steadfast comrade, the Beater, Hector Goyle, a fellow of truly gigantic build, capable of wringing the neck of a hippogriff, and possessed of an "appetite" that a Nundu in rut would not disdain.
"I observe, Lady Butler, that your 'broomstick' is without its rider this day," Cassian drawled, a lazy smile upon his lips, his gaze sweeping over her naked form, seeming to thicken the very steam. "Allow us to proffer the services of two experienced players from Slytherin. We are adept at flying the most arduous of trajectories..." >>
Harry had to pause for a minute as his eyes rolled back in irritation. Of course, bloody Malfoy was involved! He wondered if it was some ancestor of Draco's. The little rat had no idea what kinds of stories were floating around about his relatives...
<< Penelope, being a maiden of no timid disposition and understanding that to refuse two such utter ruffians was tantamount to suicide, merely fluttered a damp eyelash and coquettishly replied:
"Oh, sirs! But pray, will two fliers not impede one another? Can a single 'broomstick' endure a double mounting?"
Hector Goyle, being no master of the bon mot, dispensed with all preamble. He seized her waist roughly and turned her back to him.
"My shaft, my dear," he rumbled, patting the firm swell of her buttock, "is intended for the 'landing strip' aft. And I trust Lord Malfoy shall attend to the forward part of your 'rings'. 'Tis a pincer manoeuvre, my sweet. I am certain you have heard of it."
Cassian chuckled his approval and, approaching from the fore, allowed his towel to drop to the wet stone floor. His "staff" stood in all its glory, straight and formidable, like a wand prepared to cast the most indecent of spells.
"A capital strategy, Hector" he cried. "Lady Butler, this day you shall be our 'rings'. Our task is to prevent anything from flying 'out of bounds', but to drive every 'Quaffle' straight to victory. And by Salazar's Beast, I swear it shall be a stunning victory."
And so it began. It was akin to the most brutal of games, played without rules.
Hector introduced his wand to Lady Penelope from the rear, burrowing into her like an enraged Bludger, and every one of his thrusts sent the maiden's breasts crashing against Cassian's chest. Cassian, however, worked with greater refinement from the fore. His "seeker's staff" did not merely enter, but quested for something in the very core of Lady Penelope, like a nimble Snitch, penetrating the most secret and sensitive corners of her inner being.
"Oh, holy saints!" Penelope shrieked as Hector seized her ash-blonde plait and wrenched her head back. "Sir, your 'Quaffle' breaches my defences! Oh, it is at the very 'goal'!"
"Steady, my dear!" Goyle roared in her ear. "I shall score the goal now! And it shall be the goal of the century!"
"And I shall catch the Snitch!" Cassian smirked, his fingers beginning to tease the knot of her pleasure from the fore, as if it were indeed the golden, winged ball he so desperately needed to grasp. "I feel it is almost in my hand!"
Penelope was in ecstasy, borne upon waves of pain and pleasure, impaled upon their rigid wands with both of her openings, as upon a pair of wooden handles. Her body had become a battlefield where two mighty wizards vied for supremacy, giving little thought to her own feelings. Soapsuds flew in all directions, mingling with sweat and other, still less decent, fluids.
"Oh, Merlin! I... I am losing control!" she wailed as Hector, quickening his pace, began to drive his "ball" into her with such force that her hips grew crimson from the collision with his. "My 'broomstick' is in a dive! It carries me to the ground!"
"Let it fall!" Cassian roared, feeling his own 'hunt' nearing its conclusion. "I shall land directly in her 'goal'!"
With an inhuman roar, at once a cry of victory and a death-rattle, the two gentlemen achieved their objective almost as one. Hector poured into Lady Penelope a veritable torrent of his "Slytherin essence," whilst Cassian, withdrawing his "staff," anointed her stomach and ample bosom with a white, sticky substance that looked as though a jar of Ever-Lustre had been overturned.
They withdrew, leaving Penelope to tremble and huddle upon the floor, beneath the still-falling water. She looked as though she had survived a broomstick crash at a hundred miles per hour.
"And so, Lady Butler," Cassian pronounced, readjusting his newly-draped towel. "Now you know what it is to lose to the Slytherin team, two hundred to ten. I trust the lesson is learned."
And leaving her to lie in a pool of shame, soap, and their seed, the two young Quidditch gentlemen took their leave, leaving behind naught but the scent of expensive cologne and an ineradicable feeling of humiliation, mingled in the heart of Lady Penelope with a strange and shameful thrill. >>
* * *
By the time the story reached its final point, Harry's trousers were tight and hot, and he was breathing heavily, gripping the nearest shelf so hard that his knuckles turned white.
"What kind of book is this?!"
He looked at the cover again, and then searched the table of contents. Every chapter there was filled with similar strange titles, clearly hinting at something... more than just Quidditch. Until that very second, Harry hadn't even suspected that one could use all these terms in such a way! It was so... so lewd. And hot.
Bewildered, Harry read a few more chapters, just... well... to make sure the whole book consisted of similar stories... And yes, they all really were of roughly the same character and content – about sex. Only the locations and characters changed, but each time it was invariably Quidditch players who were shagging in pairs, in threes, even in fours or pleasing themselves alone in the changing rooms, broom cupboards, and showers with their fingers, as well as various... uh... sporting equipment.
Who knew a broom handle could be used that way?! But it turns out, the girls did it often! Or, at least, the author of this stories was convinced of it...
Harry didn't know how he would ever be able to look Katie, Alicia, and the other female Quidditch players in the face again. Could it be... could they and the other players really have fun in exactly the same way? Using Snitches, Beaters' bats, and... broom shafts?! All those long, hard wooden things they shoved into various orifices... How awful! Just incredible!
His head was spinning from the shock, and at the same time, he could hardly get rid of some sick urge to read on, to find out as much as possible about all of it.
Swallowing hard, Harry forced himself with trembling hands to return "Amusing Broomstick Flights" to its place and awkwardly adjusted his trousers. His penis was fully erect, and it was very difficult to resist the urge to slip his hand into his pants and get immediate relief.
He was halfway to doing it when he froze, pierced by a thought:
"No. I can't. I need to save this for Hermione."
He had no right to waste his sperm carelessly. Not now. It would be too selfish of him and would not bring them any closer to their goal at all. He needed to return to why he had come here in the first place...
"A child. I really want to get Hermione pregnant with my child, so that all this can finally end..."
In response to his vague mental request, the Room seemed to sigh, blowing warm air on his face, and then a hefty tome in a cracked, moss-coloured cover flopped into his hands from out of nowhere.
"The Book of Groves," Harry read.
Inside was something like a collection of Celtic legends and tales about druids, handwritten in someone's cramped, barely legible script, which was rather tedious to wade through. However, the Room had given it to him for some reason – so there must be some meaning to it...
Settling into an armchair that had also appeared from nowhere, Harry's eyes darted across the pages until, finally, he stumbled upon the right passage.
<< …and only when the desire to beget new life becometh not a dream kept in secret, but a conscious will, is it meet for you to perform the Rite of Chanting. But bear in mind, my children, that each must approach this matter with the same gravity with which they draw the first ritual circle upon the earth.
In joining in marriage, know ye that ye perform not only an act of fleshly union, but a sacred covenant, weaving together the threads of two Kindsreds into one whole, so that it may be woven into the tapestry of fate. This is a work not for one, but for two, and it requireth care and diligence from both.
Ere ye call a new soul into life, the ground must be rightly prepared for its coming, and this requireth more than mere passion. As ye be in a place of many folk, then go ye from the stone walls and from all other dwellings, and find solitude, only the two of ye, in a sacred wood or beneath the boughs of an ancient oak.
Sit ye together upon the earth, upon the soft moss that hath drunk in the wisdom of time and of waters, and take each other's hands, joining your auras into a single circle.
Think upon the child that is not yet conceived, but whose soul already yearneth for the earth, so that it may spring forth from the mother's womb and enter this world. Listen, for its soul rustleth in the grove, whispering with the wind. Think upon its smiles and its tears, of the warmth of its small hands and its first laughter.
Let this intention become so pure and clear in your minds, like the surface of a forest mere on a windless day, for it is this that shall be the light which drawth its soul, which sojourneth for a time betwixt the worlds.
And when ye feel the presence of the spirit with you, then kindle a fire – not of sorcery, but a true, living fire upon an oak log, and let its smoke bear your prayers to the heavens. Fill the air with the scent of cedar, of heather, and of juniper – plants that since time immemorial have served mankind as guides betwixt our world and the world of spirits.
And lo, when your hearts beat as one with the very pulse of the earth, and your intention is crystal-pure, ye may hasten the flow of time and begin the Song. Forget the potions of alchemists and the sorcery of staves and wands, for that is a sullied and perverse magic that seeketh to subdue nature to its will. True magic, that which ye have need of, is born from the gifts of nature herself.
Take ye a cup, hewn from stone or of baked clay, and mingle therein one drop of your own blood. Let them unite, as a symbol of your covenant and your sacrifice. Add a pinch of pollen from the white water-lily, which groweth only in the purest waters, and a drop of dew, gathered from a fern in the dawn hour of the Summer Sun. The base of this draught is a decoction of the root of elecampane, which granteth vital force. And when the decoction doth boil, let it cool of its own accord, without compulsion.
Pray ye together to the Mother Earth, and share the drink equally, so that ye may bind your souls to the spirit of the wood. And when ye have done this, lie ye down together upon the moss and begin the Song. Love one another from sunset until the first cock-crow, until your strength be utterly spent and your bodies sated. Be passionate in your desires and open in your intentions.
If ye do all this aright, your child – a spark of nature and of pure magic – shall descend upon you that night, and ye shall create a new bough upon the great Tree of your Kindred. And if your thoughts and deeds be pure, that bough shall never wither, for all eternity. >>
Now this was something meaningful.
Pleased to have finally stumbled upon some concrete advice, Harry copied the entire text, intending to show Hermione later. She would surely be able to make better sense of it than he could. For now, Harry only really understood the part about "loving one another," but did they actually have to do it outdoors at night, under an oak tree? And they'd apparently had to brew another potion... which was a bit of a problem, considering the fiasco with the last one. Damn.
"Isn't there anything easier?" he thought with frustration. "Something not from the bloody thirteenth century?"
There used to be a poster near the medical office at his old school, warning teenagers about the dangers of unprotected sex and early pregnancy, and the older students even had separate lessons dedicated to the topic. It seemed other people had no trouble getting pregnant... on the contrary, most of them were trying to avoid it by any means necessary.
"Er... Room?" Harry called out hesitantly. "I... uh... need some Muggle information about pregnancy, but simpler. Can you help me? Please?"
A moment later, he was literally buried under an avalanche of colourful pamphlets and glossy magazines that came crashing down from the ceiling.
"Thanks," he wheezed, suffocating.
The Room blew another gust of wind, ruffling his hair.
* * *
Harry spent the next few hours diligently studying everything he could about those mysterious "female cycles" and all that they entailed. In the end, he learned a great many details about periods, PMS, and menstrual cramps, as well as mucous secretion, the detailed structure of the vagina, the mysterious G-spot and the clitoris, and also about ovulation – the most crucial moment, when the female body was most predisposed to conception. By the end, his head was ready to burst from the sheer volume of new information, but it was worth it.
He'd never imagined the female body was so complicated! All this blood, mood swings, and hormones… ugh. He wouldn't want to be a girl for anything and felt deeply for Hermione, who had to deal with this every single day.
What's more, it seemed that about eighty percent of the success in conception also depended on the woman – on her well-being and the phase her body was in. Bloody hell, even her mood was a huge factor, if you believed all these texts! It gave the impression that the man hardly influenced anything at all in this regard… but that couldn't be true, could it?
"Um… Room? Listen, I need something… for blokes, you know?" he tried to formulate his request more precisely, so he wouldn't have to sift through a pile of useless texts later. "Something that will help me increase my… er… fertility. Can you help me with that?"
To be honest, after reading nearly a million texts written for a female audience, he wasn't really hoping for much when another magazine practically flew into his face.
^ ^ ^
<<< MAX POWER >>>
THE ALPHA MALE'S GUIDE TO MAXIMUM POWER!
KNOCK UP HER LIKE A PRO!
Family is an important and tricky business, but when you've finally decided to settle down with your woman, nothing seals the deal like kids… right? You bet! But hold on there, pal. While she's poring over ovulation charts and basal temperatures, what's your role in this grand operation? Think just showing up and pushing the button is enough? Think again. The quality of your contribution is just as important as hers, and in today's world, where stress at work and fast food are the norm, a man's firepower can misfire. But don't you worry, dude. We're here to get you back in fighting shape and turn you into a prime specimen of father and stud bull all in one.
All you need to do is follow the three steps in this guide. And rest assured – when you're done, your swimmers will get the best possible start so you and your dear Mrs. can be popping out your "bundles of joy" at the rate of a couple of randy rabbits in mating season.
Step 1. Fuel Your Engine for Peak Performance
You are what you eat. Yeah, it's that cliché. If you're running on a greasy bacon and egg breakfast and warm beer, you can't expect to produce championship-grade material. Your body needs the right fuel to produce quality goods.
Start by loading up on zinc. It's the magic mineral, the real-deal building block for testosterone and sperm. It's plentiful in red meat, oysters (there's a reason they're a classic, man) and nuts. A handful of peanuts, hazelnuts, or almonds once a day can work miracles on even the laziest "players."
Next, really pile on the greens. Spinach, broccoli, and asparagus are packed with folic acid, which is proven to increase sperm count and reduce the number of defective fighters in your arsenal. Think of it as quality control for your little "soldiers." Wash it all down with plenty of water – at least eight glasses a day. You need to keep your production line hydrated and running smoothly. Forget the sugary sodas and switch to good old H2O.
Step 2. Turn Your Lifestyle Around 180 Degrees
Your lifestyle is either your best springboard to victory or your worst enemy. If you're serious about the mission to bring a mini-version of you and your lovely lady into the world, it's time to make a few adjustments to what you do every day.
First off, smoking. If you smoke, quit now! Just forget about this crap once and for all. Those cigarettes are wrecking your lungs and putting the brakes on sperm production and motility. The same goes for weed. That stuff might be relaxing, but it's a false sense, pal. It puts your swimmers to sleep, the same way it shuts down your brain and turns you into a sleepy, sterile jellyfish.
As for boozing. A couple of cold ones after work to de-stress is fine, but if you're consistently putting away a six-pack every night, you're just drowning all your chances. Make a note of it: alcohol abuse lowers testosterone levels and can lead to a radical decrease in your sperm count, so cut back to moderate amounts. Believe me, your future son or daughter will thank you.
And finally, get your lazy ass up and start moving! You don't need to become a marathoner, but regular exercise – three to four times a week – boosts your testosterone and improves circulation in all the right places. Hit the gym, go for a run, or at least take a brisk walk. Just don't overdo it! Excessive, high-intensity training can have the opposite effect. And protect your balls, for God's sake!
Step 3. Remember the Timing, But Don't Forget the Romance
Now that you've fine-tuned your diet, you're living right, and you're feeling like a new man, it's time for the main event – conception. And here two things matter here at once – timing and the mood you bring to the task. While your woman is tracking her cycle, your job is to be on standby and wait for the green light. That means you need to have your reserves built up by then. In simpler terms – do not jack off, no matter how much you want to. Abstain from choking the chicken for a day or two before her most fertile window so you can deliver a powerful, concentrated batch of your payload, guaranteed.
And when the long-awaited moment arrives, use it to the fullest. Forget the quick "wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am." Work with her, not just for yourself. Focus on her pleasure. The more aroused and relaxed she is, the better her body will be prepared to receive your semen. Believe me, a little romance and a lot of attention work wonders…
* * *
It was quite a lot of information to process at once. Taking out a fresh sheet of parchment, Harry wrote out a short list by hand:
Proper food.Physical training.DO NOT WANK !!!Make Hermione come every (??) time we have sex.After thinking for a moment, he added a few more points:
Get enough sleep.Find out what makes Hermione happy and do it more often.Drink plenty of water.Become stronger!Learn MORE about sex.Now that looked like a plan! Some of the lines partially repeated each other, but Harry was pleased nonetheless. Finally, he could see a clear set of rules in front of him that he could follow! It was a shame no one had told him about something like this earlier – everything would have been much simpler then, and he wouldn't have felt like he was constantly drowning.
Buoyed by his discovery, he asked the Room for more "Max Power" magazines, and was not disappointed.
^ ^ ^
<<< MAX POWER >>>
THE FEMALE ORGASM AND CONCEPTION?
MYTH, COINCIDENCE, OR A BIOLOGICAL NECESSITY?
Every alpha male who has ever thought about continuing the family line has faced this question. The female orgasm – just how important is it? To this day, there's still no single consensus on the matter. Old wives' tales, advice from women's magazines, and Hollywood movies have created an aura around the female orgasm of something almost mystical, that supposedly "opens the gates" for sperm and is a general cure-all for problems in the bedroom. But let's finally get to the bottom of what's science and what's just a pretty fiction. And we'll start with the evidence base.
What does science tell us? Is the female orgasm necessary for conception?
The short answer is no. Ovulation and fertilization are complex biochemical processes that work just fine without peak pleasure. What's more, throughout all of human history, millions of women have conceived children without even knowing an orgasm existed. However, modern science isn't quick to write it off, and many doctors today believe the female orgasm can increase the chances of success several times over.
Why the female orgasm actually matters?
When a woman climaxes, the so-called "upsuck" effect is triggered, in which the muscles of her uterus and vagina contract rhythmically. Some researchers believe these contractions create a sort of vacuum that literally "sucks" sperm from the vagina deeper into the cervix, shortening their journey to the egg. This isn't 100% proven, but the logic is there.
A second important factor is the change in pH balance. Paradoxically, the vaginal environment is naturally acidic and hostile to sperm, but the female orgasm and the arousal that precedes it alter the composition of the cervical mucus, making it more alkaline and friendly to the male sex cells. Essentially, the female body is biochemically protecting itself from pregnancy from a male it finds "unpleasant." What does this tell us, boys? The answer is simple: the longer and better the foreplay, the better the conditions for your "guests," so don't skimp on the petting part.
Furthermore, during orgasm, a woman's body experiences a powerful release of oxytocin, the so-called "cuddle hormone" of bonding and trust. It not only strengthens the emotional connection, making the woman feel a powerful bond with her partner, but it can also contribute to more active contractions of her uterus, which, again, helps the sperm move in the right direction.
What about the position? Will any do the trick?
Yes and no. Just like with the female orgasm, conception isn't directly dependent on the position you have sex in, but the right position can improve your odds. To make the most of the natural advantages available, you should pay attention to the mechanics and physics of the process – that is, choose what allows for the deepest penetration.
A classic example is the missionary position with a pillow or a rolled-up towel placed under the woman's hips. In this case, the angle of the cervix changes, making it easier for sperm to reach their target, moving with the help of gravity. But don't get fixated only on that, because there are plenty of other equally effective positions...
[…]
In the next January issue of MAX POWER, we'll tell you everything you need to know about positions for MAXimum deep penetration – so your "swimmers" can hit the target right on the mark! Subscribe now so you don't miss out…
* * *
He knew it! It was no wonder he'd so desperately wanted to see Hermione happy and content during their sexual encounters – it seemed his subconscious, on some mysterious level, had sensed that this would improve their chances. And now he had real, almost scientific proof that he had been on the right path all along. He'd just been lacking the practical skills so far, but that was something that could be learned!
Feeling an unprecedented surge of spirit and inspiration, Harry added a couple more lines to his "List of Important Things":
Learn petting.Find out all about different sex positions and learn how to do them.Laden with a respectable pile of "Max Power" and other men's magazines, he made his way back to the "reading room" where he had left Hermione. It took him far less time than the initial journey, but this was the Room of Requirement, after all. It probably had no fixed dimensions at all and could "stretch" or "shrink" infinitely, depending on what you asked of it. It was very convenient, really.
As Harry quietly set his load down on the floor and settled into the armchair opposite Hermione, she didn't even look up. Her eyes were still lowered to her book, and she was sitting in the very same position he'd left her in. Long strands of hair hung down on either side of her face, almost hiding her slightly flushed cheeks, and she kept squirming in her seat, as if her legs had gone terribly numb.
"She's been sitting like that for hours. Maybe I should offer her a break? Hmm... no, better not. She doesn't like being interrupted. I'd better read what I've got. There's still a couple of hours until dinner, I think..."
Making himself comfortable in the armchair, Harry picked up the top magazine from the pile and opened it to page 10.
^ ^ ^
<<< MAX POWER >>>
THE DEPTH RANKING,
or
TOP 10 POSITIONS FOR MAXIMUM PENETRATION
She wants it deeper and harder? So deep that you own her completely, your balls are slapping against her like a sledgehammer, and her uterus is quaking as you drive your piston into her like a true alpha male? Forget the dogma, man. When it comes to deep, real penetration, not all positions are created equal. We took each one, tested them in the field, and gave them an objective rating on a 10-point scale. Here is your guide to the big leagues of depth and mind-blowing sex.
Level 1. Missionary with a Pillow Under Her Ass
Depth Rating: 7.5/10
The good old classic, perfected. A pillow under her glutes is both convenient and practical, because not only will it be way more comfortable for you both, but your dick will enter her at a completely new angle. In this position, you have full control of the movement and can maintain eye contact with her while you work on her and your pleasure at full throttle. It's reliable, effective, and always a good time.
Level 2. The Armchair
Depth Rating: 7.5/10
You're sitting on the edge of the bed, and she's sitting on top of you, but you're not just a passive "attachment" to your dick here. While she controls the movement, the power is still with you. You can meet her movements with your own powerful thrusts from below, which lets you combine depth with the intimacy that all women love, all while asserting your male dominance.
Level 3. Spoons on Steroids
Depth Rating: 8/10
Man-style coziness. Lying on your side, you throw her leg over your thigh, and bingo – you get a whole new level of access to her most hidden spots. Perfect for a lazy morning when you don't want to get up but need depth here and now. Maximum power with minimum effort.
Level 4. The Bridge
Depth Rating: 8.5/10
This is a pro-level position for those who want variety, though most of the work will be on her. She'll need a good amount of flexibility for this pose, but the reward for such an effort will be colossal for both of you. So, she gets into a "bridge" position, supporting herself on all fours with her hips thrust upward. When you enter her at this angle, the tightness will literally drive you insane. The major downside is this option isn't for every night, unless you and your partner are Olympic athletes.
Level 5. The High Leg
Depth Rating: 8.5/10
Asymmetry is your best friend. Why? When she's on her back with one leg thrown over your shoulder, it opens her up to you in a way you couldn't even dream of, and you'll be able to reach places she didn't even know existed. Switch legs – get new sensations. Simple and genius, though it does require some flexibility.
Level 6. The Scissor
Depth Rating: 9/10
It looks like the "spoons" position, with both of you on your sides, only this time your bodies form an "X." The scissoring creates incredible internal tension and opens up a channel for penetration that feels very special. In this position, you can't thrust into her quickly, but it will be truly deep and intimate.
Level 7. The Frog
Depth Rating: 9/10
It's like classic doggy style but with increased intimate closeness. She's lying on her stomach, legs tucked under her, and you sit on top of her. The angle is the same – direct and deep, but here her body is relaxed and completely at your disposal. You can press her into the bed with each thrust as hard as you want, but be prepared to put in the work, because here she will be 100% the receptive partner.
Level 8. The Cowgirl
Depth Rating: 9.5/10
You're on your back, and she sits on top of you, face-to-face, like she's riding a horse, controlling the speed of movement. In this position, her legs are spread wide over your thighs, creating the perfect trajectory for your strokes. While she finds her rhythm in a way that's comfortable for her, you can enjoy the sight of her opening up for you and taking you in completely again and again.
Level 9. Standing, Leg on the Table
Depth Rating: 9.5/10
This position is for the real men only, those who want to control the depth and pace completely. She's standing with one foot on the floor and the other on a table, while you enter her from behind at a sharp, dominant angle. You can take her hard, deep, and unforgettable cool.
Level 10. Classic Doggy Style
Depth Rating: 10/10
The best, time-tested mankind-proven position – and the absolute, undisputed king of depth. Direct access, maximum penetration, full alpha male control. Your hands are free to pull her toward you, intensifying each thrust however you want. No compromises, but the raw, primal power of you mating with her. If you need to drive it deep – this is your choice, and it will never let you down.
* * *
It was a total mind-fuck. Harry had never imagined there were so many sexual positions. Were he and Hermione really going to try all this someday?
"Would she even want to do this?" He bit his lip, glancing at Hermione from under his brow.
Judging by the tone of these articles, their author was convinced that the lad was the one who took charge in bed, for the most part. It was all about strength and alpha males... Was Harry an alpha male? What did it even mean to be an alpha male? He was a man... well, a boy, certainly. But was that enough to be considered the dominant one during sex?
He wasn't so sure he wanted to be in charge. All the previous times, it had mostly been Hermione who was at the helm, and Harry had been perfectly fine with that... But what if she wasn't?
"Perhaps I ought to ask her... or not? Is it appropriate to ask about such a thing?"
For all he knew, maybe that was his problem. He wasn't serious or assertive enough in his intentions, too afraid to try and finally do something, and that was why Hermione couldn't feel completely relaxed with him.
"But she did have an orgasm, several times in fact," his optimistic side reminded him. "So it can't be all that bad."
He was on the right track – and that was the main thing. All he had to do now was keep digging and put what he was learning into practice, and very soon.
"Right, what's next on the list?.. Ah. Romance. And this... petting thing."
Rummaging through the pile, Harry located the right article on his fourth attempt.
^ ^ ^
<<< MAX POWER >>>
THE ART OF PETTING:
MAKE HER DRIP AND SUBMIT TO YOUR WILL
You know what separates a real man from a boy who blows his load in his pants in a minute? Restraint. A will of steel and patience. While you're chasing a quick release like a dumb retriever after a stick, you're missing the most important thing – power over your woman, the kind that will make her submit to you on the most primal, animal level. And no, this isn't about physical control and submission like BDSM or just being a brute. It's about something much more subtle – the prelude. That's right, man, today we're talking about petting, and how to turn it from a game into your main tool for conquering the female body. You'll learn the secrets that will turn you into the hunter and her into the prey, a prey that will willingly offer herself up and literally beg for you to enter her and make her yours.
How to compel her to obey... without force?
Understand one simple thing, pal. A woman gets turned on by submitting to a strong will, but that doesn't mean you have to be rough with her. You have to be confident. Dictate the pace. Decide when and how she'll receive pleasure. Become the center of her universe – at least on a physical level. Her desire is the reward she'll get if she obeys you without question. You own her body, and every touch from you is a mark that says she belongs to you and you alone. You don't ask, but take. And you always dominate.
Create her hunger. Don't give her what she wants, but slowly stoke her desire until her body instinctively submits to you, starts to drip in anticipation of you, her master. If you do everything right and don't rush it, believe me, by the end she'll be ready for absolutely anything just to get the slightest bit of pleasure from you...
* * *
Harry scratched his nose thoughtfully and squirmed a bit in his armchair, shifting his position so his erection wouldn't be so obvious. All these magazines, for all their informational value, had a certain side effect that made it rather difficult to focus solely on the reading. Especially with Hermione sitting just a couple of metres away...
He still wasn't sure how much truth was really in these articles. They sounded so... crude. Nothing like the medical textbooks or women's magazines, where sex was described in more vague and far less brutal terms. Here, it was all about power and making a woman submit to you, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The only real-life example of a relationship Harry had was his relatives, so it was no surprise that they were the ones who involuntarily came to mind. Besides, Uncle Vernon was a very large, angry man, clearly a "dominant alpha male" if you went by his build. Did that mean he also "owned" Aunt Petunia, like the articles said? Did he throw her on the bed, then fall on top of her and press her into the mattress with his fat belly and poke at her with his cock to assert his power over her? And she liked it?!
"Ugh... How disgusting! Why did I even think of that?! I feel sick..."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, desperately fighting the lump of bile that had shot up into his throat. Eager to be rid of the vile image, he hurried back to his reading.
^ ^ ^
<<< MAX POWER >>>
HOW TO GENTLY BREAK HER RESISTANCE?
STAGE 1. Conquering Her with a Kiss
Start with a confident kiss on her lips, but don't focus only on them. Kiss her cheeks, jawline, neck, behind her ear – any place she finds pleasurable, but never ask for permission. Just do it. Take her face in your hands and kiss her in a way that makes her immediately realize who's in charge. Explore her mouth with your tongue and don't be afraid to taste her skin. Leave light bites and hickeys on her like your marks so everyone can see that she is yours. In the process, you can whisper dirty things in her ear and tell her what you're going to do to her next, completely capture her imagination. Women love with their ears, so you can use this technique to the fullest – it will pay off in the future, believe me.
STAGE 2. Conquering Her Mind
Make her body burn and want you without even touching the main prize. Run your hands over her back and sides, squeeze her hips, pull her towards you. Don't stop whispering little dirty things that will make her blush, and don't be afraid to be a little rough. Show her your strength through contrast. Start with the most delicate touches of your fingertips, then firmly grab her thigh. Let her feel the warmth of your breath on her skin, and then pull away. Make her reach for you. Confuse her so her mind is literally torn apart with the desire to know what your next move will be. And, of course, continue to ignore the obvious – her breasts and her pussy, for now. You can brush against them incidentally, but don't actually touch them. This will create tension that will build until she is literally begging you to do it.
STAGE 3. Conquering Her Breasts
Nature has made it so that for most women, the breasts and especially the nipples are one of the most sensitive erogenous zones, often even more powerful than the vagina. And you must treat this treasure accordingly. First, take a neutral position, meaning don't just grab her breasts like that. Simply take one of her breasts in your hand. Feel its weight. Be confident in your actions. Then, once you've had your fill of the softness of her breast, attack the nipple with your fingers until it hardens from your touch. If your lady isn't shy, you can lightly pinch, suck, or even bite it. To understand what she likes, watch her reactions carefully – how she breathes, how she moans, the expression on her face. Very often, pain here is mixed with pleasure, so don't be afraid to be persistent.
STAGE 4. Conquering Her Thighs
This is where your journey to her most sacred point begins, but you must by no means approach it carelessly or skip this stage. As soon as you see her breathing heavily and trembling next to you, slowly and confidently move down to her thighs. Spread her legs to give yourself full access. Run your fingers over her skin, lightly pressing your nails into the soft skin so she feels it. Then switch from your fingers to your tongue. Trace lines down to her pussy and make her tremble in anticipation of what you'll do next. Stoke her fire on a low flame until her body starts making animalistic thrusts, presenting itself right under your mouth.
STAGE 5. Conquering Her Clitoris
This is the final stretch. By this point, she should already be writhing under you, soaking wet, desperate, and ready, and now is the time for the finishing move – the assault on her clit. If you still don't know where it is, what the hell are you even doing here?! Seriously, bro, go back to jerk-off kindergarten until you learn the basics. But if you're good with that, let's continue. Touch her clit with your lips lightly but with serious intent, then suddenly suck it fully into your mouth. Start making circular motions with your tongue, as if you're licking a lollipop. Move slowly, then faster. When she starts moaning and asking for more, slide one finger inside her and move it, mimicking how you would move your dick. Don't stop sucking her clit, try to do it rhythmically. Once you've stretched her out properly, add a second finger or even a third. Speed up. Press harder. Let her hips move in time with your hand and tongue. Play her like a musical instrument until she cums on your fingers or right in your mouth. As soon as that happens, don't stop licking and sucking her for a few more seconds until she starts pushing you away. Don't leave. Lay your tongue on her clit and just hold it there, without moving, until you feel her muscles calm down beneath you.
That's it. After that, you can do whatever you want with her. You can lick her clean or slide your dick into her right then and there and fuck her brains out, making her cum a second time in a row all over your meat. She won't be against it either way.
* * *
"Harry!"
He flinched, tearing himself away from his reading, with flushed cheeks and a heavily throbbing cock in his suddenly too-tight trousers.
"Huh?"
Hermione was looking at him with eyes that were burning and at the same time glassy, causing something in Harry's stomach to lurch and flip over.
"Come here. Now!" Her hoarse command pierced his brain and stung his nerves, travelling straight to his groin.
"Erm…"
While he was being thick, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, still absorbed in the images the magazine had conjured, Hermione was the first to leap up from her seat. Closing the distance between them in three strides, she fell on top of him and sank her lips into his in a kiss, making him groan dully into her mouth.
"M-Mione…"
"I need this, Harry! Please! Harry, please!" her fingers dug into the skin on the back of his head almost painfully, but he was so aroused he didn't care. Her hips ground against his so desperately and forcefully that his own body responded on pure instinct, jerking his hips in return.
"Oh… yes. Anything you want, Hermione… ah… anything you want…"
"Harry…"
"Take her. Show her she's yours. DO IT! RIGHT NOW!" an inner voice barked in his head, and Harry couldn't resist.
Roughly grabbing Hermione by the shoulders, he made her rise with him, then decisively tipped her over onto the nearest book table. Old tomes and magazines cascaded to the floor, landing with dull thuds, but they didn't even notice, too busy ripping their clothes off as quickly as possible.