He was already fumbling with his trousers, pushing them down along with his pants. Lavender caught a glimpse of his cock springing free—hard, eager, and...
Smaller than mine.
The thought was inappropriate and slightly hysterical. She'd never compared before—never had reason to. But now, with her own five inches concealed beneath her skirt, she couldn't help noticing that Ron was perhaps four and a half. Average, probably. Perfectly normal.
Just... less than her.
She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Or crying. She wasn't sure which urge was stronger.
She immediately turned around and leaned against the door, pressing her palms flat against the wood.
This was good—this was perfect.
If she faced away from him, he wouldn't see anything. Wouldn't notice the bulge in her knickers, wouldn't catch a glimpse of anything he shouldn't.
She felt Ron's hands on her hips, pulling up her skirt. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her knickers.
"Wait—" she started.
But he only pulled them down a few inches—just enough to expose her pussy, not enough to reveal anything else.
Thank Merlin.
The concealment charm must have held because her boyfriend didn't stop for even a moment.
"Contraceptus," Ron muttered, and Lavender felt the familiar tingle of the charm settling over her.
At least he remembered that, she thought bitterly. Can't be bothered with silencing spells or locking charms, but thank Merlin, he doesn't want to knock me up.
Then Ron was pressing against her entrance, and Lavender stopped thinking entirely.
He pushed in with one hard thrust, and she gasped—from the sudden fullness, from the friction, from the overwhelming sensation of being fucked while her own cock throbbed with need. The concealment charm was holding, but it didn't reduce sensitivity. Every nerve ending was alive, screaming for attention.
"Fuck, you're tight," Ron groaned, starting to move. "So fucking tight, Lav—"
He set a brutal pace, his hips slapping against her arse, his hands gripping her waist hard enough to bruise. It was good—it was always good, physically speaking. Ron knew what he was doing, knew her body, knew the angle that made her see stars.
But he didn't know all of her body anymore.
Lavender's cock was trapped against her stomach, rubbing against the fabric of her blouse with every thrust. The friction was maddening—not enough to satisfy, but more than enough to build. She could feel her orgasm approaching, could feel the pressure coiling tight—
She came.
Her cock pulsed, spilling into the space between her body and her shirt, and Lavender had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out differently than Ron would expect. The pleasure crashed through her, mixing with the sensation of Ron still fucking her, still chasing his own release.
Thank God I'm facing the door. Thank God he can't see—
"You're so hot," Ron panted. "Love watching you like this—"
You're not watching anything, Lavender thought deliriously. You're staring at my back while I come from a cock you don't know I have.
Ron's thrusts grew erratic, his rhythm faltering. "Lav, I'm gonna—"
He slammed deep and came, groaning, his cock pulsing inside her. The feeling of it—the warmth, the intimacy—pushed Lavender over the edge again. Her second orgasm rippled through her, her cock twitching weakly, adding to the mess already soaking her blouse.
Then Ron pulled out, patted her arse in a way that was probably meant to be affectionate, and stepped back.
"That was brilliant," he said, already pulling up his trousers.
Lavender stayed where she was, forehead pressed against the door, trying to catch her breath. She could feel his cum leaking out of her, could feel her own cum cooling against her stomach. She was a mess—inside and out.
"Lav? You okay?"
"Fine," she managed. "Just... give me a minute."
She heard Ron settle back onto the bench, heard the rustle of fabric as he made himself comfortable. When she finally turned around, he was lounging with his eyes closed, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself.
Lavender quickly pointed her wand at the spreading stain on her blouse. "Tergeo."
The cum vanished, leaving the fabric clean. Ron didn't even open his eyes.
She pulled up her knickers and smoothed down her skirt, then sat on the opposite bench, as far from Ron as the small space allowed.
Just like that, she thought, a bitter taste in her mouth. Just fucked me against the door and went right back to his nap. Didn't even ask if I enjoyed it. Didn't even notice that I came twice.
Not that he could have noticed. Not without knowing about her condition. But still—the way he'd treated her, like she was just a convenient hole to use...
She found herself thinking about Pansy. About what Pansy had told the group—how she'd fucked Blaise, taken control, made him the one being penetrated.
How would Ron feel if I did that to him?
The thought was vicious, satisfying in a dark way. She imagined it—bending Ron over the bench, using those preparation spells Pansy had mentioned, sliding her cock into his arse while he gasped and moaned. Fucking him hard and fast, the way he'd just fucked her. Leaving him dripping with her cum, used and discarded.
He'd hate it, she thought. He'd absolutely hate being treated like that. Or would he?
She stared at her boyfriend's sleeping form and felt something curdle in her chest. She wasn't sure if it was anger or excitement, but it was ugly.
It was growing.
龴ↀ◡ↀ龴
The rest of the journey passed in silence. Ron dozed while Lavender stared out the window, watching the countryside roll by.
She thought about Hermione. About the way Hermione had looked at her last night—soft and wanting and present. About how Hermione had asked permission, had checked in, and had made sure Lavender was enjoying herself.
About how Hermione had held her afterward, like she mattered.
Ron had never done that. Not once, in all their time together.
Maybe the condition hadn't changed her as much as she'd thought. Maybe it had just shown her what was already broken.
Something's going to have to give, Lavender thought, as the train pulled into the station. I can't keep living like this.
But for now, she pasted on a smile and took her boyfriend's hand, and pretended everything was fine.
龴ↀ◡ↀ龴
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Chapter 24: It's a wand
Chapter 25: Inexhaustible
Chapter 26: Deja vu
Chapter 27: Not exactly help
(and so on)