While in their fifth year at Hogwarts, the air in the castle hummed with the mounting pressure of impending OWL examinations. The Gryffindor common room, usually a haven of laughter and Quidditch talk, now felt stifled under the weight of neglected textbooks and half-hearted revision schedules. Professor McGonagall, ever the stern enforcer of academic rigor, summoned Hermione Granger to her office one crisp afternoon. The Transfiguration teacher's quarters were impeccably organized, shelves lined with precise notes and a faint scent of ink lingering in the air.
"Hermione," McGonagall began, her voice sharp as a wand flick, peering over her spectacles at the bushy-haired witch who stood ramrod straight. "You are the epitome of diligence in our house. Your grades are exemplary, your work ethic unmatched. Gryffindor House's future rests on the shoulders of its fifth-year boys—Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, Thomas, and Finnigan. They are squandering their potential, lounging about like house-elves on holiday. I need you to motivate them to study. Use whatever methods you deem necessary, but get results. The OWLs are no jest."
Hermione nodded vigorously, her cheeks flushing with the honor of the task. "Of course, Professor. I'll do my best." As she left the office, a knot of determination twisted in her stomach. She was the model student, after all—top of her class, always buried in books. Surely, she could inspire them.
That evening, Hermione gathered the boys in the common room after dinner. The fire crackled warmly, casting flickering shadows on the worn armchairs where Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus sprawled like discarded robes. Harry fiddled with his glasses in the armchair closest to the fire, Ron munched on a pilfered pumpkin pasty on the sofa, Neville stared at his Herbology notes at a side table, Dean sketched idly on the floor cushions, and Seamus cracked jokes from a beanbag.
"Listen up," Hermione said, clapping her hands for attention. She paced before them, a stack of revision timetables in hand. "The OWLs are weeks away. If you don't buckle down, you'll regret it for life. I've made schedules—personalized for each of you. Harry, focus on Defense Against the Dark Arts; Ron, Potions needs work—"
Ron groaned, slumping deeper into the sofa. "Blimey, Hermione, give it a rest. We've got time."
"Yeah," Seamus chimed in, grinning from the beanbag. "Why slave over books when we can play Exploding Snap?"
Neville mumbled something about fumbling his wand from the table, while Dean nodded along from the cushions, and even Harry, usually more disciplined, shot her an apologetic look from the armchair but didn't protest.
Hermione's frustration boiled over the next few days. She tutored them individually—drilling Harry on charms in the library alcove until her voice grew hoarse, quizzing Ron on transfiguration facts he promptly forgot in the common room corner, coaxing Neville through basic spells with endless patience in the greenhouse, helping Dean with history essays at the dormitory steps, and guiding Seamus through charms practice in an empty classroom. But they were lazy, distracted by pranks, girls, and the thrill of forbidden forest wanderings. Study sessions devolved into banter, her lectures met with yawns and excuses.
In a last-ditch effort one rainy afternoon in the library, surrounded by towering stacks of musty tomes at a long oak table, Hermione slammed her book shut. The boys looked up, startled, from their half-hearted scribbles—Harry across from her, Ron beside him, Neville at the end, Dean and Seamus on the other side. Her heart pounded, a wild idea forming born of desperation and a flicker of something deeper—perhaps the way their eyes lingered on her curves when they thought she wasn't looking, or the forbidden thrill of her own unspoken desires.
"Alright," she said, her voice trembling but resolute. "If words won't work, maybe this will. Whoever gets at least three Outstandings on their OWLs... I'll... I'll let you fuck me. Any way you want." The words hung in the air like a Stunning Spell. Ron's jaw dropped from his seat, Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses across the table, Neville blushed crimson at the end, Dean's pencil snapped in his hand on the other side, and Seamus let out a low whistle beside him.
"You serious, 'Mione?" Ron stammered, a grin splitting his face.
She nodded, cheeks burning. "Deadly serious. But only if you earn it. Now study."
The transformation was immediate. The boys dove into their books with a fervor Hermione had never seen. Harry pored over Defense texts late into the night in the dormitory, Ron actually brewed a passable potion without exploding it in the dungeons, Neville coaxed plants to perfection in the greenhouse, Dean aced his Art and History revisions in the common room, and Seamus mastered charms that once eluded him in the classroom. OWLs came and went in a blur of quills and ink-stained fingers, and soon summer stretched between fifth and sixth year.
Flash forward to the first day of sixth year, the Great Hall alive with the Start-of-Term Feast. Golden plates overflowed with roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, and treacle tart on the long Gryffindor table, the enchanted ceiling mirroring a starry night. Hermione sat midway down the bench, chatting with Ginny beside her, when the boys approached from the other end—Harry leading, Ron at his side, Neville trailing shyly, Dean and Seamus bringing up the rear. OWL results clutched like trophies in their hands. The hall buzzed with chatter, but their corner fell silent as they slid the parchments toward her across the wooden surface.
Harry first, leaning over the bench: "Three O's—Defense, Charms, Transfiguration."
Ron shoved his forward next: "Potions, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures. Exactly three."
Neville placed his shyly: "Herbology, Defense, and... Charms too! Three."
Dean slid his smoothly: "Art, History of Magic, and Transfiguration."
Seamus grinned, tossing his: "Charms, Defense, and... Potions! Barely scraped it, but three O's."
Hermione's eyes widened, scanning the letters on the table. They'd done it—each precisely three, no more, no less, as if savoring the bargain.
"That means..." Ron started, his voice low and eager, sitting down beside her.
"Tonight," Harry added, a mischievous glint in his green eyes, taking the seat on her other side.
"No shame in it," Seamus pressed, leaning across the table from opposite.
Hermione's face flamed, anger surging. "Absolutely not! That was a motivational ploy, not a binding contract. I was desperate—you were hopeless! Forget it." She shoved the letters back across the bench, heart racing with a mix of fury and an unwelcome heat pooling between her thighs.
But they persisted through the feast, whispering pleas between bites—Ron's earnest "Come on, you said it" from her right, Harry's soft "We worked so hard for you" from her left, Neville's shy "It'd mean everything" from down the bench, Dean's smooth "You inspired us, now let us show our gratitude" across the table, Seamus's teasing "Don't be a tease, Granger" from opposite. Their words chipped at her resolve, stirring the lust she'd buried, the praise kink that made her pulse quicken at their admiration. By dessert, her refusals softened to murmurs, and finally, with a defeated nod, she agreed. "Fine. Tonight. But this stays between us."
The feast blurred into afters, and later, in the quiet of the girls' dorm with Ginny asleep in the next bed, Harry slipped her his Invisibility Cloak under the table during a late common room linger. "For sneaking in," he murmured, his fingers brushing hers, sending sparks up her arm. She waited until the castle slept, then donned the cloak in her bed, its silvery fabric cool against her skin. Beneath, she'd chosen a slutty twist on her school uniform: a too-tight white blouse unbuttoned low to reveal the swell of her full breasts, the fabric straining over her hardened nipples; a pleated skirt hiked scandalously short, barely covering her thighs; knee-high socks and polished shoes. No underwear—her pussy already slick with anticipation, the air teasing her exposed folds as she moved, a faint trickle of wetness sliding down her inner thigh.
Heart hammering, she crept through the common room, the fire embers glowing faintly, up the spiral stairs to the boys' dormitory. The circular room was dim, moonlight filtering through the red-curtained windows around the five four-poster beds arranged in a pentagon. The door creaked softly as she slipped inside, letting the cloak fall in a whisper of silk onto the floor near the entrance. Harry sat on the edge of his bed nearest the door, Ron lounged against the headboard of the next, Neville fidgeted on his bed across, Dean leaned back on his beside Neville's, and Seamus perched on the last, closest to the window. Shirts discarded, trousers tented with evident arousal, their eyes locked on her, hungry and reverent, the room thick with the budding scent of their excitement—musky and masculine, like sweat-dampened skin after a Quidditch match.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron breathed from his bed, his freckled chest rising and falling rapidly, his gaze lingering on her curves.
She stood shyly in the center of the room, between the beds, arms crossed over her chest, the stone floor cool under her shoes. But the praise that followed sent a shiver through her. "You're such a good girl for coming here," Harry said first from his bed, his voice low and commanding, rising to approach her with that effortless confidence. The words ignited her praise kink, a warm flush spreading from her core, drawing a breathy "Ahh~" from her lips as heat pooled in her pussy, her folds swelling and slicking further. Then Neville added softly from his bed, "Yeah, you're amazing for this," his shy tone making her cheeks warm even more, and Dean chimed in with a smooth, "Our perfect reward," his dark eyes appreciative from across, balancing the attention across them. Seamus nodded from the window bed, "Good girl, showing up like this."
Emboldened, she uncrossed her arms, letting them see how her blouse gaped, her heavy breasts heaving with each quick breath, the soft, pale skin of her cleavage dotted with a light sheen of nervous sweat. Ron stepped forward from his bed clumsily, pulling her into a quick, rough kiss in the center, his tongue invading her mouth sloppily, his hands groping her ass through the skirt, standing face-to-face with her. She responded with a muffled "Mmmph", her body pressing back slightly, before turning to Neville who rose from his bed and nuzzled her neck from the side, inhaling deeply the clean, soapy scent of her skin mixed with the budding musk of her wet pussy wafting up from under her skirt. "You're so perfect, Hermione. Such a good little slut for us," he murmured against her ear, his warm breath tickling, and the praise made her nipples pebble harder against the fabric, a soft "Nngh yes~" escaping her as she leaned into him briefly, now sandwiched lightly between Ron in front and Neville behind.
Dean, his dark skin smooth and athletic, approached from his bed and reached out to unbutton her blouse slowly in the center, each pop of a button exposing more of her creamy breasts, the cool night air kissing her skin and making goosebumps rise. He leaned in, sniffing at the hollow of her throat where a faint salty sweat had gathered, his nose brushing her softness. "God, you smell amazing... our perfect fucktoy," he said, voice low and appreciative, before latching his mouth onto one nipple, sucking with wet, slurping pulls that sent jolts straight to her clit. She gasped, "Ahhn~ mmm", the sensation like electric sparks dancing across her nerves, her pussy clenching and releasing a fresh gush of wetness that dripped audibly down her thigh with a soft patter on the stone floor. Seamus joined from the other side, rising from his bed, his wiry hands cupping her other breast, thumb flicking the nipple as he praised, "Look at you, so eager—good girl," drawing another "Ohh" from her lips, now surrounded by all five in a loose circle around her standing form.
Seamus dropped to his knees in front of her on the floor, hiking up her skirt with eager hands, the pleats flipping up to reveal her bare pussy—lips puffy and pink, glistening with arousal, a string of clear fluid stretching from her folds to the air. He buried his face close, inhaling the tangy, feminine musk deeply, the scent heady and intoxicating, like fresh rain on warm earth. "Ahh, no knickers? Naughty little slut," he grinned up at her, but his tone was adoring. "Such a good girl for showing us everything." His fingers parted her folds with a wet schlick, exposing her throbbing clit, and he blew a cool puff of air over it, making her hips jerk and a throaty "Ohh~" spill from her lips. Harry watched with a smirk from slightly behind, his hand stroking his tented trousers, but she glanced at him with a slight extra linger, her lust stirring a bit more for his confident gaze, as the group tightened around her.
They guided her to the center of the room, onto a pile of rumpled blankets dragged from the beds and spread out on the stone floor between the posts, the fabric cool and slightly scratchy against her back as they laid her down flat, the combined weight sinking the makeshift nest with soft creaks. Her head rested near Harry's bed, feet toward the window. Clothes shed in a frenzy: trousers kicked off with rustles and thuds toward the bedsides, cocks springing free into the moonlight. Harry's was the largest by far—nine thick inches of rigid, veined heat, the circumcised head broad and leaking a steady bead of clear pre-cum that trailed down the shaft, carrying a clean yet potent boyish musk, earthy and addictive, standing at her head. Ron's was the smallest, a modest five inches, uncut and flushed, with a milder scent overshadowed by the others, positioned at her side. Neville's was girthy at seven inches, balls heavy and drawn tight, wafting an earthy, plant-like aroma from his greenhouse days, kneeling near her hip. Dean's long seven and a half inches curved slightly, dark shaft veined and throbbing, smelling of spiced, warm skin, at her other hip. Seamus's thick six inches pulsed with veins, a salty tang rising from it, between her legs.
Hermione's eyes roamed over them all from her supine position, lingering a touch longer on Harry's impressive length above her face, her mouth watering at the sight, her pussy clenching emptily with a squelch of her own juices, a quiet "Mmm~ ohh" slipping out as she reached up, her soft fingers wrapping around his girth first, feeling the velvet-smooth skin over steel-hard muscle, the heat radiating into her palm. But then she extended her other hand to Dean at her hip, stroking his curved shaft with equal curiosity, the spiced scent teasing her nostrils as pre-cum slicked her fingers. The other boys stroked themselves nearby, their groans blending—Harry's deep "Uuungh" from above, Dean's smoother "Ahh" at her side, Neville's softer "Mmm" from the other hip, Seamus's sharper "Nngh" between her legs, and Ron's quieter "Unh" from further along—filling the air with a chorus of arousal.
Harry knelt straddling her chest now, his knees on either side of her shoulders on the blankets, his massive cock bobbing inches from her lips, the musky scent wafting strong now, pre-cum beading at the slit. "Suck me, Hermione. Be our good little cocksucker," he commanded from above, and she obeyed eagerly, her lips stretching wide around his thick head, tongue swirling the salty, slightly bitter pre-cum, the flavor exploding on her taste buds as she took him deeper, inch by inch, until her nose brushed his trimmed pubic hair, inhaling the concentrated musk there—sweaty, arousing, making her head spin, her head tilting back slightly on the blanket. Ron knelt at her right side, but she gave him minimal attention, her free hand loosely brushing his smaller length once before focusing back. Neville and Dean remained at her hips, their hands roaming her thighs, while Seamus stayed between her legs, spreading them wider.
He groaned deeply, "Fuuuck", fingers tangling in her bushy curls from above, guiding her head with gentle thrusts, the wet slurps and gags filling the air as saliva dribbled down her chin, mixing with his pre-cum, her body flat on the blankets. Behind her head, toward her ass, Ron gripped her hips clumsily from the side, shifting to kneel between her legs alongside Seamus, his smaller cock nudging her entrance briefly before sliding in with little resistance, the stretch minimal, his thrusts quick and shallow from below, balls tapping lightly against her clit as he positioned on his knees. She acknowledged him with a muffled "Mmmph" around Harry's dick, her body rocking back slightly on the blankets, but her focus shifted as Dean took a turn at her mouth after a few minutes, Harry pulling back to let him kneel in the same straddle position, his curved shaft sliding past her lips, the spiced flavor on her tongue as she sucked with wet pulls, her hands now stroking Harry and Neville at her sides.
The boys' bodies pressed close—sweat-slick skin sliding against her softness from all angles, the room growing humid with their combined heat, the scent of musk thickening like a fog: Harry's potent and clean from above, Ron's milder from between her legs, Neville's earthy at her left hip, Dean's spiced switching to her mouth, Seamus's salty waiting his turn. Ron pounded steadily from below, his lanky frame slapping against her ass with soft thwacks on the blankets, his sweat dripping onto her back in warm droplets as she lay prone. "Tight... good," he grunted from between her thighs, his praise simple but present, eliciting a small clench from her pussy. Neville slid closer on his knees at her left, capturing one nipple in his mouth and sucking hard, the wet pull sending jolts to her core, his tongue laving the sensitive bud while his hands kneaded her hanging breast slightly off the side, feeling their heavy weight and the soft give of the flesh, nipples scraping his palms. "Such a good slut, taking it all," he murmured around her skin from the side, the praise making her clench around Ron, a fresh spray of wetness squirting out with a hiss as her arousal peaked briefly, soaking the blankets beneath her ass.
Dean leaned in from his straddle above, but after his turn at her mouth, he shifted to her right side, raising her arm slightly to sniff and lick at her exposed armpit, the skin there soft and pale, lightly damp with sweat from the building heat, inhaling deeply the faint, tangy scent of her body odor mixed with soap making him groan. His tongue followed, flat and wet, lapping up the salty beads, the texture rasping gently against her smoothness from the side. "Mmm, taste so fucking good here," he said, and she shivered, "Ahhn~", the unexpected kink sending a thrill through her, her pussy dripping more copiously now, the wetness audible as it soaked Ron's balls with each thrust. Seamus stroked himself on his knees between her legs beside Ron, watching with eager eyes, occasionally reaching to rub her clit with slick fingers, the nub throbbing under his touch as Ron continued pumping.
Hermione's body ignited, pleasure coiling tight from the cock in her mouth—the salty taste, the fullness stretching her jaw, now back to Harry's straddle after Dean—and the building friction in her pussy from Ron below. She lavished attention across them, her tongue tracing ridges on whoever was in her mouth, sucking harder on the upstrokes, her hands cupping sacks and rolling the soft, wrinkled skin at her sides, inhaling musks whenever she switched, eyes lingering extra on Harry above. "You're all so good~ mmm~ perfect~," she mumbled around them, the words making groans rise from the group, Harry's a bit deeper from his position, but the others responding with equal fervor from their spots.
Ron's thrusts grew erratic from between her legs, his hips slapping her ass with wet smacks from her leaking juices on the blankets, and he came quickly, grunting "Uuungh", his modest load spilling into her with a few weak pulses, the warmth noticeable but fleeting as it leaked out almost immediately, thin rivulets running down her thighs onto the fabric. No respite—Dean took his place behind her, shifting from the side to kneel between her legs, his long, curved cock sliding into the messy, cum-slick heat with a deep schlorp, the friction delicious as her walls gripped him, the curve hitting her g-spot perfectly on the first thrust from below. She bucked her hips up instinctively, moaning around the cock in her mouth—now Seamus who had taken the straddle position after Harry stepped aside briefly, his thick length filling her mouth—"Yesss ahhn~", the sound muffled and vibrating along his shaft, making him buck harder from above, his balls tightening against her chin, the salty scent intensifying as sweat beaded on his sack.
Harry and Neville flanked her sides now on their knees, cocks in her hands at hip level, her fingers pumping their lengths with slick slides, pre-cum lubing her palms—Harry's massive girth requiring firmer grips on her right, but she gave Neville's girthy one steady strokes on her left too, feeling the earthy pulse. The wet sounds multiplied: schlick from her pussy as Dean thrust from between her legs, slurps from her mouth with Seamus above, fists on skin from her hands at sides. Her skin flushed hot, soft and slick against their harder bodies pressing in, breasts bouncing slightly with each thrust from below, nipples aching from earlier attention.
The overstimulation mounted: Dean's curved shaft grinding her inner walls from between her legs, the wet slaps of skin on skin echoing on the blankets, his spiced musk rising as sweat trickled down his back; the cock in her mouth throbbing on her tongue from Seamus's straddle, gag-reflex teasing sounds mixing with her slurps; the boys' groans blending into a symphony from their positions. In her lust haze, she leaned her head slightly toward Dean below, twisting her upper body a bit to lick at the sweat beading on his hip from the side, the taste spiced and salty on her tongue, a brief worship that made him groan "Ohh~ fuck~" from between her thighs, while her hands continued their work on Harry and Neville at her sides.
Her first orgasm crashed over her suddenly, pussy spasming wildly around Dean from below, walls milking his length as she gushed, a spray of clear fluid arcing out to soak his groin and the blankets, the sensation like a dam breaking, hot and relieving, her body arching off the fabric. "OHHH FUUUCK! YESSS!" she wailed around Seamus's cock above, the throaty cry broken and desperate, vibrations making him thrust deeper from his straddle. Dean grunted, "Grrraah yes~", his long cock pulsing as he flooded her with hot, thick ropes of cum from between her legs, the jets strong and deep, overflowing immediately to mix with her squirt, dripping in heavy globs down her legs onto the blankets, the warmth spreading like liquid fire inside her.
They rotated without pause, the air now heavy with the sharp scent of cum and pussy juices, the blankets sodden and clinging to her back. Seamus claimed her pussy next, staying between her legs on his knees after Dean pulled out, his thick six inches pushing into the cum-filled mess with a bubbly squelch, the stretch pleasant, his wiry hips snapping forward quickly from below. Hermione's eyes sought balance, sucking Neville's girthy cock now as he took the straddle position above after Seamus had finished there, the earthy taste filling her mouth as she deepthroated him with gags from below her head, but glancing at Harry with a slight extra hunger on her right side, her hand reaching for his massive length to stroke firmly while he knelt there. Dean, still hard, positioned at her ass from the side, spitting onto her tight ring—a warm glob landing with a splat on her cheek—before pressing his curved tip in slowly as she lay flat. The burn was intense, her sphincter stretching around his girth from the side angle, the sensation like fire turning to fullness as he sank deeper, inch by inch, until his balls rested against her pussy lips, now double-penetrated with Seamus in her pussy from between her legs and Dean in her ass from the right side.
"Relax, you're our perfect anal slut," Dean praised from his side position behind her hip, his hands spreading her cheeks, exposing the lewd sight, and she whimpered "Aaaahn! Yesss", pushing her hips up to take more, the dual penetration—Seamus in her pussy from center below, Dean in her ass from the side—creating a thin wall of friction between them, every thrust rubbing their cocks together inside her, igniting nerves she didn't know she had, her body flat but hips lifted slightly off the blankets.
The fullness was overwhelming, her holes stuffed and throbbing, cum from earlier leaking out around Seamus with each pump from below, the wet sounds multiplying—schlick-schlick from her pussy, tighter squeaks from her ass. Ron hovered nearby on his knees at her left side, stroking his smaller cock, and she gave him a brief handjob with her left hand, her fingers loose around his modest length while her right focused more on Harry, but mostly ignored as she focused on the sensations from below and side. Her mouth stayed on Neville above in straddle, sucking his girthy length with deep bobs, tasting his pre-cum, salty and earthy, her head tilting to accommodate.
In the haze, she twisted her upper body slightly toward Seamus below, licking at the sweat on his inner thigh as he thrust from between her legs, the skin salty and slick under her tongue, a desperate act of worship that made him groan "Ohh~ fuck" from center, her true lust pouring into the group with murmurs like "So good mmm~ need you all~" around Neville's cock above. They spanked her ass lightly—Seamus's hand coming down with a sharp smack on one cheek from below, the sting blooming red and hot on her left, making her clench around both cocks, a fresh gush of wetness spraying from her pussy toward the center. Dean reached under from his side position to rub her clit, fingers slippery with cum and arousal, circling the swollen nub until she trembled on the blankets.
The room reeked: heavy musk from the boys' crotches in their positions, her tangy pussy scent sharpened by cum, sweat's salty tang everywhere, moans and groans a constant backdrop—hers throaty "Mmmph~ harder" muffled above, theirs guttural "Uuungh ahh" from around her. Her second orgasm built relentlessly, the double stuffing overwhelming, her soft skin sliding against their harder bodies pressing in from sides and below, breasts swaying slightly off the blankets. She came with a muffled scream, "HNNNGH! OHHH! YESSS!", holes fluttering wildly, pussy squirting in forceful jets that soaked Seamus's abdomen from center below, the liquid warm and copious, ass clenching rhythmically around Dean from the side. Seamus grunted first, "Fuuuck~ nngh", his thick load pulsing into her pussy from below, mixing with Dean's earlier cum, the overflow bubbling out with frothy white strands onto the blankets. Dean followed, grinding deep from the side, "Aaaah good girl~", his jets filling her ass, hot and viscous, leaking down to her pussy in slow drips toward the center.
Panting, they eased her up to a sitting position on the blankets in the center, her body slick and trembling, holes gaping slightly, cum drooling from both in thick globs that plopped onto the fabric below her. Harry pulled her onto his lap facing him, sitting cross-legged on the blankets himself, his massive cock aligning with her pussy as she straddled his thighs, the head nudging her cum-slick folds. She sank down eagerly, the stretch immense—nine inches splitting her wide, walls molding to every vein, the fullness making her gasp "Aaaahn! Harry so full~", her voice breaking as she bottomed out, clit grinding against his pubic bone, the coarse hair tickling her sensitive skin, her knees on the blankets beside his hips. But as she rode him slowly at first, hips rolling in his lap, feeling the drag of his length inside her, the wet squelches loud as cum lubed the way, her juices adding to the mess, dripping down his balls in warm rivulets onto the fabric, she reached out to stroke Neville and Dean on either side, kneeling nearby, her hands pumping their medium girths with steady attention from her seated position.
Her hands roamed Harry's chest as she bounced, nails scraping his nipples, tongue lapping the sweat from his collarbone, savoring the taste from close up, her praise kink flaring as he gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks from below. "Ride me, perfect little slut. You're made for my cock," he growled up at her, and she moaned "Yesss~ mmm~ yours~", bouncing harder in his lap, breasts jiggling, the soft flesh slapping his chest with each descent, her back to the group. Seamus knelt behind her now, on his knees at her rear, licking at her ass where cum leaked, his tongue hot and probing, rimming the stretched hole with wet laps from behind, the sensation ticklish and arousing, making her clench around Harry as she rode. Ron tried to join from the left side, kneeling there, and she gave him a brief footjob with her dangling right foot off Harry's lap, toes curling around his smaller length through the sock, the fabric soft and slightly damp from her sweat, providing teasing friction as she stroked him minimally while riding.
Neville moved to her left armpit from his kneeling position beside, lifting her arm slightly as she bounced and burying his nose in the soft hollow, inhaling the tangy sweat deeply—now stronger from the exertion, mixed with the room's sex smells—before licking broadly, tongue rasping the smooth skin, tasting the salt from the side. "So good~ ahh~," he murmured, and the kink made her shiver, pussy tightening around Harry below, who thrust up to meet her from his seated position, his muscular thighs flexing against her ass, sweat from his body mixing with hers, their skins sliding slickly. She leaned toward Neville in response during a bounce, licking his sweat-damp shoulder from the side, the earthy flavor on her tongue, before turning her head to kiss Dean on the right, sharing his spiced taste briefly while her hand continued stroking him.
She bounced faster in Harry's lap, the blankets creaking rhythmically beneath them, her pussy spraying small squirts with each lift, wetting Harry's groin and the fabric further. Dean spanked her right cheek from his kneeling spot on the right, the smack sharper, leaving a handprint that burned warmly, while Seamus's tongue delved deeper into her ass from behind, tasting the leaked cum, salty and bitter. Ron's footjob continued minimally from the left, his quiet grunts blending in as her foot slid along his length. Her moans filled the air for the group: "Harder~ ohh~ yesss~ all of you" as she rode. Her third orgasm hit like a wave, pussy convulsing in powerful spasms around Harry, gushing around his base, the spray hitting his abs with wet splats from close range. "FUUUUCK! AAAAH! CUMMING!" she screamed, voice raw and throaty, body arching back against Seamus behind, nails raking Harry's back slightly more than the others', leaving red trails on his sweat-slick skin. Harry groaned deeply, "Uuungh~ take it~", his massive cock swelling before erupting from below, thick ropes jetting against her cervix, flooding her womb with heat, excess bubbling out around him in creamy froth onto his lap and the blankets, the sensation prolonged as she milked every drop.
Exhausted but insatiable, they shifted her to her back again on the blankets, legs spread wide toward the window, pussy and ass exposed and glistening, cum pooling beneath her in a sticky puddle on the fabric. Harry claimed her mouth once more, kneeling at her head in straddle position, his cock—still semi-hard and massive—sliding between her breasts as she pressed them together for a titjob from below, the soft, pillowy flesh enveloping him completely, her tongue darting out to lick the head on each upthrust, tasting the mix of cum and her own juices, salty and tangy, her head tilted back. "Your tits are perfect for this, good girl," he praised from above, thrusting steadily, the friction warm and smooth, pre-cum lubing the valley between her breasts. But she invited the others too, letting Neville slide his girthy cock alongside Harry's for a double titfuck from the straddle, the two shafts rubbing together in her cleavage, her tongue alternating licks between them as they thrust in tandem above, moaning "Mmm~ yesss~" for both, her arms pressing her breasts firmer.
Dean took her pussy next, kneeling between her spread legs on the blankets, his curved seven and a half inches sliding in with a deep squelch from center below, the cum easing the way, his thrusts probing deep spots as he praised from between her thighs, "You're our incredible cumdump, Hermione," making her clench and whimper up at the titfuck above. Seamus and Ron lavished her upper body from the sides: Seamus kneeling on her right, sucking one nipple, teeth grazing the peak lightly with wet pulls; Ron on her left, the other nipple in his sloppier sucks, drawing a soft "Ahhn" from her as she lay. In her haze, she reached for their sweat-damp armpits—first Seamus's on the right, lifting his arm slightly to sniff the salty tang deeply, then licking the soft, damp skin, tasting the salt from the side, the act making her pussy flutter around Dean below. "So tasty mmm~," she breathed, before doing the same to Ron on the left, his milder sweat on her tongue, balancing the kinks across them while her eyes lingered a touch on Harry above during the titjob.
Dean fucked her steadily from between her legs, the wet slaps building, balls slapping her ass with soft thuds on the blankets, and she came again, "Ahhn~ yes~ nngh", pussy spasming, squirting lightly around him toward his groin. He moaned "Mmm ohh", filling her with his load from below, warm spurts adding to the mess, leaking out as he pulled free onto the fabric. During the titjob above, Harry came across her chest, his massive cock pulsing in the cleavage, ropes of thick cum splattering her breasts, neck, and chin, hot and sticky, pooling in the hollows, the scent sharp and bleachy. She scooped some up, tasting it on her fingers—salty, viscous—moaning "Yesss more~", then offered her hand to Neville beside the straddle, who licked the remnants, sharing the flavor from the side.
The others took turns between her tits while she lay back: Dean's dark length contrasting her pale skin after cleaning up, sliding smoothly in the cum-lube from a kneeling straddle, drawing an enthusiastic "Mmm~" as she squeezed from below; Seamus following in the same position, thick and quick, her tongue flicking his head above; Neville's girth stretching the flesh next, groans soft from straddle; Ron getting a solid slide last, his smaller size filling less but her hands pressing firmer to accommodate from below, over with a spurt that she acknowledged with a lick up at him. Their groans varied across the group from their rotating straddle positions, cum glazing her upper body now, sticky and cooling, dripping down her sides onto the blankets.
Not sated, they flipped her onto her hands and knees on the blankets in the center, facing toward Harry's bed, knees and palms sinking into the sodden fabric, her skirt flipped up to bunch at her waist, exposing her ass cheeks—round and soft, dimpling under their gazes—and her dripping pussy, a steady drip of arousal falling to soak the cloth below. Seamus knelt behind her at her rear between her spread knees, lubing her ass with spit and cum, pressing in with a burn that made her gasp "Aaaahn~!", the tight ring yielding to his thickness from behind, turning to pleasure as he thrust on his knees, hands spanking her cheeks rhythmically, the smacks echoing with red blooms on her soft skin. Dean took her pussy from the same rear position beside Seamus, the double again filling her completely as he knelt parallel, cocks rubbing inside through the thin wall, friction electric, both thrusting in sync from behind.
Harry knelt before her face on the blankets, feeding her his massive cock from the front, the taste of cum and sweat on it as she sucked hungrily on all fours, deepthroating with gags, saliva stringing from her lips, but she switched to Ron briefly on her right front side, kneeling there, giving his smaller length a few bobs, tasting his milder flavor, before returning to Harry in front with a slight extra depth, her head bobbing forward. Neville flanked her left side on his knees, his cock in her left hand for strokes, but she rotated grips, her right hand on Ron minimally when not sucking.
In the frenzy, she reached back over her shoulder, fingers dipping into her own wetness from the double behind, then offering them forward to the group to suck, sharing her tangy taste, Harry's tongue swirling her digits a bit longer from front, but the others joining eagerly from sides. Another kink surged: Seamus pulled her hair lightly from behind, the tug on her curls sending scalp tingles, while Dean pinched her nipples from his rear position, twisting gently under her hanging breasts.
The pounding intensified from behind: Dean and Seamus syncing thrusts, one in as the other out on their knees, the lewd symphony of squelches, slaps, and grunts filling the room, her pussy dripping constantly, spraying with each deep hit toward the rear, wetness soaking their balls and the floor beyond the blankets. She pulled off the cock in her mouth to moan "Harder~ fuck~ yesss" facing front, then back down, vibrations from her throaty sounds making groans rise from whoever was there. Her fourth orgasm ripped through, holes clenching in unison around the doubles behind, gushing from her pussy in a forceful spray that arced backward, hitting Seamus's chest from rear. "OH GOD! FUUUCK! AAAAHHH!" she screamed toward front, voice hoarse, body convulsing on all fours, milking them dry. Seamus came with "Uuungh~ tight" from behind in her ass; Dean with "Nngh yes~" flooding her pussy from rear, cum overflowing in rivers down her legs onto the blankets.
Hours blurred in the sensory overload on the central blankets: sweat-slick bodies grinding in rotating positions, moans constant—hers desperate "Mmm~ ahhn~ harder~" from various orientations, theirs adoring grunts from around; smells layering—musk, cum, pussy tang, sweat's salt; tastes lingering on her tongue—cock, sweat, her own fluids; textures everywhere—soft skin yielding to hard muscle, wet folds gripping veined shafts, sticky cum cooling on flesh. They rotated fluidly: Neville taking her pussy solo for a spell, her on top reverse cowgirl straddling his lap on the blankets facing away, his girthy thrusts deep and steady from below as she rode, praising her while her ass cheeks spread on his lap, cum leaking around him onto his thighs; Ron getting a brief anal turn, her on all fours again facing his bed, his smaller size easier in her stretched hole from behind on his knees, her moans polite but shared as he thrust shallowly; Dean titfucking her while she lay back once more, him straddling her chest, Seamus fucking her mouth from the side kneel in that phase, the curve of his cock hitting her throat uniquely as she turned her head.
Throughout, she licked sweat from their bodies in haze—Neville's chest salty-earth when he was below, Seamus's neck sharp tang from behind, even Ron's arm mild but included when he was near—her tongue rasping soft skins, tastes blending on her palate from close contacts. Armpit play continued: she sniffed and licked Harry's briefly when he was front, his clean musk potent, but also Dean's spiced hollow and Neville's earthy one during side positions, the tangy salts making her clit throb. Footjobs rotated too—her socks now cum-damp, toes stroking Seamus from a side kneel, then Ron minimally, then Dean during rests, the fabrics slick and teasing on their lengths.
More orgasms wracked her: a fifth from Neville's girth in her ass, her bent over his bed edge on all fours facing the window, squirting onto his heavy balls as he filled her from behind on his knees; a sixth double-penetrated by Ron in pussy from below on blankets and Seamus in mouth from front straddle, her body shaking with sprays in missionary-like with legs up; building to climaxes with loud "AAAAH! OHHH! CUMMING~!" each time, holes flooding with their loads—thick from Harry and Dean in various rears and rides, girthy pulses from Neville during solos, thick jets from Seamus in doubles, thinner from Ron in brief turns—all mixing in her, leaking in globs, the warmth and fullness sensory bliss across positions.
Finally, they gathered her kneeling in the center of the blankets on her knees, cocks surrounding her face and body in a tight circle—Harry front center, Ron to his right, Neville left, Dean behind slightly, Seamus opposite. She stroked and sucked in devotion: starting with Harry longest in front, mouth working his massive length deeply on her knees, but then cycling—Neville's girth with firm sucks turning left, Dean's curve with tongue swirls reaching back, Seamus's thickness with hand pumps forward, Ron's smaller one with a solid bob each on right. Their final loads erupted near-unison: Harry's thickest front, painting her face in heavy ropes across cheeks, lips, forehead, hot and dripping into her open mouth, the taste flooding her senses; Neville's earthy spurts on her tits from left, Dean's spiced jets on her neck from behind, Seamus's salty ropes on her back from opposite, Ron's thin dribbles on her thigh from right, all acknowledged with moans "Mmm~ yes~ perfect~". She swallowed what she could, body claimed completely.
Exhausted, she collapsed amid them onto the blankets, bodies entwining in a sweaty, cum-soaked heap across the center, the room reeking of their marathon. "You were all... outstanding," she whispered, voice raw, hands touching each in turn from the pile, lulled by their collective praise: "Our perfect little slut."