PSA: Harry Potter books are for children.

and early teenage kids grinding on large sticks between their legs and waving around their "magic wands" is perfectly childish?
 
The lamp by the bathroom showed only the side of her cheek. Ron found himself staring. The scarf had fallen down across her breast. She touched his shoulder. He leaned in... and kissed her.

She met him. Her lips felt chapped. She seemed small, almost breakable, to Ron. She didn't retreat, after the kiss. Ron could still feel her breath on his face, could see her eyes almost shut. They kissed again, this time more forcefully.

They recovered for a second, and put their beers down on the floor and coffee table. Hermione had hardly touched hers.

Ron put a hand on Hermione's arm. The muscle felt like a soft layer of padding covering something vital. Her shoulder felt solid and too small at the same time.

As they leaned back, Hermione pressed a hand against the back of Ron's head, pushing his mouth to her. Something released in her, sending a tremor through her body.

Ron's hand found the lump of her breast, and squeezed it. His weight pressed down on her. She managed to scoot her knee up across his lap and bring her legs to either side of him. Her crotch was warm. Ron wanted her desperately. His hips made the motion of fucking. Hers followed. The end of his very erect penis came down beneath her pubic bone, and tried to push in. She broke off kissing for a breath, for the first time, and Ron came to notice something; she was crying.

"Are you all right?"

She said nothing, but nodded vigorously, through tears. Hermione stood up, and Ron took her hand. "Up," she whispered. Ron stood, and she led him into the bedroom.

The moon had come out outside, and although the windows were charmed, the moonlight was allowed in. Hermione stood in the shaft of dull light, beside the bed, wiping her tears. Ron unwrapped her scarf from her neck. He reached to her waist, and she put her arm up. The sweater came off, popping and crackling in her bunchy hair. She wore a black turtleneck underneath, which accentuated her breasts and the curvature of her stomach.

Ron wanted to kiss her. Hermione's mouth opened, but for some reason the kiss never came. She removed his robe, and then his coat. He kicked his boots off, then stepped on his socks. Hermione pulled his long-sleeve shirt off him. Their faces were close, their cheeks brushing. Ron put his hands on Hermione's waist, and began pulling her turtleneck up. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra as he did so. Both came off together, and Hermione stood before Ron with her full, small breasts pointing out at angles in the moonlight. They brushed his tee-shirt as she stood up on her tiptoes, unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. There she stood, wearing nothing but her panties, and socks.

Ron touched her breasts, and kissed her, and then couldn't resist, and pushed her down on the quilt of the bed and began making out with her. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, and held him to her. Ron struggled his pants off, kicking them onto the floor.

It was cold in the room. Hermione pulled up a corner of the sheets, and got them underneath, where the heat began to build up between them. Ron sucked against her earlobe, and Hermione arched. A thin sheen of sweat covered her breasts. She pulled the tee shirt off over his head, and threw it away. He kissed her neck, and then her lips, and then her neck again, his arms going up under her shoulders and squeezing her against his chest. One hand went down under her butt, kneading her against him. His hard cock rubbed up and down her pelvis.

"I love you, Ron," she breathed, as his hand came up underneath her panties and pulled them to one side. Hermione shifted her knees up on either side of him, and clawed her socks off. Her feet felt cold against Ron's calves. He pulled his shorts down. His penis pressed up into her exposed thigh and butt cheek, then against the side that didn't have her panties strung across it. She gave a start as Ron pushed against her pubic hair, slipped, and then popped up inside, entering her.

Ron could feel a wet spot on the bed, against his balls. He pushed into her. Hermione matched his strokes, grinding them together. Small noises escaped her. Her hand was against his butt, holding tightly. The bed was creaking, thumping as they went. Ron kissed Hermione's warm face. Hermione was gone.

With an effort to suppress it, he came, spasming as his body filled her up. He spurted several times, then fell limp atop her.

"Keep going," she begged in a raspy voice. Uncoordinatedly at first, he struggled to continue the rhythm. His cock felt cold and burning at the same time. He struggled into her, while his erection lasted.

Ron spread her floppy pissflaps apart and penetrated her cavernous cunt. Ron helped to roll her over onto her side. She never had much coordination since that bout with polio when she was younger. She moaned and groaned as if she were a moose in the throes of passion. It had obviously been a long while since her husband had had his way with her, as she took a long while to set up a rhythm. "Out of practise," Ron thought to himself. A few minutes later, Rob came inside her and had to pull out. We waited for about half an hour until Rob was able to go again, and this time Ron lasted for well over 30 minutes, making her orgasm at least 3 times with his erect, quivering, 4-inch member.
 
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