The Road to Hell

Went out last night, to meet a bunch of friends early at a bar in Diagon Alley. Ron and Hermione were there, as was my lovely housemate Harry and about ten other fabulous people.

Happy, easy-going, laid-back Sunday drinks in the midst of friends. Some pot.
And a lot of sexual tension between Ron and Harry.

Harry told Hermione that her husband was hitting on him.
"We have an open marriage," said Hermione with a smile as she rubbed Harry's leg.
Shortly after, Ron had his tongue down Harry's throat as he squeezed my thigh.
Eventually we four decided to go back to the house.

I took Hermione along with me and Ron took Harry in that ridiculous flying vehicle of his.
Hermione and I messed around for a while at home, then wondered what had become of our wayward partners. An hour later they came in, laughing like the naughty little things they are.

"I've got to go to sleep," announced Harry who had a symposium this morning.
Lusty goodnight kisses ensued.

Ron and Hermione and I went back to the same nightclub wherein I watched Oliver, making out in the front bar and reveled in our lust and friendship and aesthetic appreciation of the others.

Ron turned to me at some point and muttered "God Draco, I just want to re-enact our little scene from your party. Let's go break into the back theater," he joked.
"Okay, let's go," I said, and his eyes widened.

Upstairs, around a corner, through the DJ booth, down some back stairs, and we were standing center stage in the darkened theater, kissing and groping and fumbling at buckles and buttons and things.

Bang.
Knees to the floor.
Ron going down on me, then coming up to let me know how he feels: "You and Harry are so fucking hot."
"You are such a whore," I said, kneeling and filling my mouth with his surprisingly rigid cock (all things earlier in the evening considered.)

We were at it for about twenty minutes. Not rushing anything. I don't think either of us really wanted to get off. Just slowly and raunchily taste each other's naughty bits and sigh and moan nasty little things to each other.

Ron eventually sighed "Fuck, Hermione's going to be pissed. We gotta get back up front."

A last kiss on the darkened stage as we put our clothes back in order, and slunk back up front.
Cho was bartending.
Watching our exit through the back alley door, she shook her head like a disappointed mother. I then made a lewd face at her behind Ron's back and she broke out laughing.

The road to hell is paved with good erections.