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It was by pure luck that Harry had stumbled across his current occupation. He'd know about it, of course, because Seamus was always pouring over his latest obsession over one camsite or another. He'd even shown Harry one time, but he'd just looked away, uncomfortable.

However, Hogwarts wasn't cheap, nor was his apartment, and in a plight to earn money, fast, without going into drug sales or prostitution, Harry asked Reddit.

r/advice

posted by u/boywholived • 3h

[1 silver] [1 stonks rising]

I need to earn money, fast

I don't have my degree yet (that's what the money is going to) nor do I have any work experience. I will do almost anything, but I need to stay intact. No risk of not staying intact, either, please.

Edit: a lot of people are saying sugar daddy but where the hell? I'm not that pretty, guys. Besides, that exists as an actual thing?

uv 1.1k dv | 237 comments | share | award

loverboy • 3h

Sugar daddy.

options | award | reply | uv 982 dv

| yourbestestfriend • 3h

| hold up is that allowed here

| options | award | reply | uv 346 dv

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| | monsterfucker • 3h

| | Think so. Otherwise the mods'll shut it down probably

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| | | [4 replies]

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| | Lord_Grindelwald • 1h

| | Considering that by this time a mod should have seen it (going off the average activity on this subreddit) I'll feel free to say it is allowed, and things similar.

| |  options | award | reply | uv 263 dv

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| | | danny_danny123 • 25m

| | | What kind of ficking name is that

| | | options | award | reply | uv -34 dv

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boringggggg • cake • 2h

Walmart

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| boywholived • 2h

| I'm british

| options | award | reply | uv 45 dv

Lord_Grindelwald • 59m

For a more realistic approach, camsites are a good way of earning quickly. If you're careful you can even obscure your identity so it can't be traced back to you.

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| boywholived • OP • 42m

| Doesn't that count as prostitution though

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| | Lord_Grindelwald • 30m

| | I prefer to call it sex work. It's certainly safer.

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| | | boywholived • OP • 28m

| | | I'll look into it

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| casualcammy • 40m

| can confirm it's realistic. op, you're a guy, right? you might have to put in more effort but you should be able to get it done. in my experience they like a bit of roleplay. but!!! do research!!!

| options | award | reply | uv 203 dv

[156 more replies]

After doing his research and deciding it'd be a good way to spend his evenings, he'd requested to contact Lord_Grindelwald and they'd chatted about the prospect. Lord_Grindelwald had recommended a few rather obscure, male-based sites. Harry had set up a few free-trial accounts and checked them out and had rather liked Morsmordre- it was a pay-for-access site, so the domain could remain protected under its host, and so that any streams and or clips uploaded would automatically cash in a fair bit of revenue with every hit the upload got, on top of tips and paid requests. It had a clean, easy to learn interface- there was a bit of finicking at first but after a while Harry got used to and understood the order of the tabs, and saw no need to customise it, as the options offered.

After a while- not too long, though since money really was becoming an issue rather quickly -Harry chose Morsmordre, creating a completely new account, and spent a whole week mentally preparing himself for his first stream. The sign-up process was smart, too; there was an option to declare if someone were planning to stream, and accordingly, a split percentage of revenue made could be set to cover for the monthly subscription fee. Harry chose to set that percentage to 15%, just in case his streaming had little success- although he knew most first streams were given a fair chance at Morsmordre after his little info-gathering days.

He chose to stream every evening, a bid to avoid Slughorn's little celebrity club. The subscription itself was £20 a month, and tipping started at £50, so if Harry could get at least three people to tip… he'd be fine with covering both the expense of the subscription and keeping most of the money he made too.

That being said, Harry, being the sly little cunt he was -in his own words- chose to invest in absolutely 0 things for his first stream; the epitome of 'completely new at this'. He argued he'd buy some stuff with the money left over after he paid his bills and put a nice amount in the tuition fee pot. Which might be nothing, but would give him a good opportunity to beg. Win-win.

And therefore here he was, with shaking legs as he sat on his knees on the floor like a little kid, camera angled down at him from above his head. He was small, yes, and he would take advantage of it- he'd googled a few techniques, anyways. Besides, he reckoned it would give the audience a better view of him. He'd set up a screen next to the camera to check if his output was of quality, because he might be a noob, but he would never be a pleb. It was pure luck he'd been elected for that filmmaking course in secondary, which required parents or guardians to invest in a device for their children. The Dursleys were trapped in a Devil's dilemma; give the freak a good camera and show off their money, or give the freak a bad camera and give the impression they can't afford one. They chose wisely.

Ah, he was trailing off. The clock ticked steadily closer to 7pm, and Harry's hand shook a little. At five seconds to, he tapped the stream button.

Harry gasped, frantically remembering something. Oh, shit, a mask. Right. He ducked over to his bed and fished it off, placing the smooth metal wired thing on his face. Its black lace fastenings fell past his cheeks, tickling him lightly, and he fastened them quickly before ducking into the camera's sight again. A few viewers had shown up- that was quick. He'd chosen this time for his first stream because it was usually when people ate.

'Oh hi!' Harry said, blinking dumbly at the screen. 'Sorry about that. Forgot my mask. Although I guess I'm pretty fucking identifiable either way, considering my eyes are like, glowing beacons. Oh, damn.' He squinted at the screen. 'They're like bloody torches.'

A few comments streamed in. A question of when he was going to start, a few laughing exclamations, and a comment about how nice the thumbnail was. Harry frowned, a lopsided smile on his face.

'Glad you like it, though I have no idea what it is. I'm a complete newbie at this. You might be able to tell.'

A few affirmatives. One told him he was found under the 'first stream' tab. 'You're the first new streamer in several days. It's endearing. '

'Thank you,' Harry said, a little humbled. 'Well, I guess I'll tell you a little about me.' He leaned back. 'Mhh, I'll guess I'll just use my middle name for this. Call me James,' Harry said slyly, peering up at the camera. 'I never knew my father anyways, he died when I was little, got murdered. Wow, that's probably an intriguing backstory. Sounds like something right out of a book.' Harry laughed a little. 'Maybe the murderer’ll come back to kill me, too.'

' Aren't you trying to remain anonymous ?' A comment asked. Harry repeated the question quickly.

'Yeah, but not that much. I'm not ashamed of this; I need money, not something to be ashamed of, but I'd just rather not have people from my school recognise me. Besides, I can appreciate stalkers that put a little work in.' Harry eyed the screen.

A request; £50. ' suck off a dildo '.

Harry smiled apologetically, scrunched up his nose.

'I would,' he told the camera, 'but I’m an idiot and I’m learning as I go. This is my first stream.'

He plopped down on his belly and rolled over so he was belly-up, oversized shirt riding up over his skinny jeans. Big doe eyes were pointed at the camera, peering out from beneath his thin gold mask. 'I don’t actually have a dildo,' he told his audience, a small pout on his lips. A flood of comments spouting endearing terms streamed in. Huh, there were a lot of people here. It hadn’t been ten minutes.

'I can touch myself, though,' Harry suggested as if in afterthought, 'so your funds don’t go to waste.' His hand creeped down his shirt, to his crotch. 'I wonder what a dildo feels like. I’ve never even done the real thing…' He traced his fingers absently over his cock. Harry sat up again, turned to the camera. His cock was half-hard, tenting a little against his tight trousers.

Harry's hand shot down, and he pulled a pained face. 'Wow, that's tight.' There was burning curiosity in his eyes, too. He looked back at the camera.

'What should I call you?' he asked, putting a finger to his lips and tapping them. 'Sir?' Harry closed his eyes. ' Sir. ' he shivered. 'Oh, I like that.'

A flash on his screen. £100. The message: 'I like it too.' Anonymous. Harry's hand resumed the attention to his prick, pressing harder now.

'Thank you, Sir,' he said, a little breathless. Harry moaned a little. ' Mhh… '

He eyed the camera. 'Will you teach me, Sir? I'd like that. I have no idea what I'm doing, you see…' he slipped his hand inside his trousers. 'I should buy a dildo… I wonder if it'll fit.'

Another stream of comments, encouraging.

'You think it will?' Harry laughed, short of breath, pushing his hand deeper. 'I'm only 5'7...' Harry traced over his balls and threw his head back. ' Ah !' He gasped. 'Oh, yes .'

Another tip; a fifty. Harry sighed and took himself in hand under his trousers. 'I like it when you do that,' he confessed. 'Makes me feel good…' He was painfully hard, now.

Another request, £200. ' Show yourself, darling. Let me see what I do to you .'

Harry gave a breathy moan. ' Mhh , anything for you, Sir.' He unbuttoned his trousers and zipped his fly down. Then Harry hesitated and cast a sly look at the camera. 'I dunno,' he said, 'do I wanna, though?' His cock was tenting against his black underwear, and Harry gritted his teeth lightly against the strain. ' Mhh , I’m such a bad boy, aren’t I, sir?'

The comments were shouting affirmatives at him, but he just smiled slyly. Another request, £200 again. Harry took note of the name. Lord_Voldemort. Awfully familiar… likely a coincidence. The request; ‘ Be a good boy for me, darling. ’

Harry clapped a hand in front of his mouth to stifle his surprised moan. 'Y-yeah,' he agreed shakily, eyes wide. Who had this money to spare? 'I will.'

---

A few months later, Harry sat in front of his camera in his now signature pose, on his knees with his feet curled behind his bum. He was sucking on a lollipop, cherry flavoured. Around him were a few cherry-themed things, as it was today's theme; every saturday he'd do a fruit-themed stream. Last week had been peaches, and he'd had a lot of fun then, especially when he'd started eating the actual peach and the juices had dripped from his chin onto his legs. He'd been tipped handsomely for that, and Harry could guess why. Cherries were also highly requested, so that was what he was doing this time.

'Hi,' he greeted the first people who showed up around his lollipop. 'I hope you can understand me like this.'

A few affirmatives in the comments, and Harry beamed. 'Nice!' he chirped. 'Well, no use in waiting. I'll just introduce what I've got upfront. When I actually use the stuff, I'll remind you, Sir, cause I know you can be a bit forgetful sometimes.' He popped the lollipop out of his mouth, pouting against the glassy orb. When he pulled it away, his lips were slick with sugar, and he licked it off.

'I love doing that,' he said, 'makes me feel like a kid. But!' he interrupted, raising the hand with the lollipop in the air, 'We're not here to pretend we're kids. So, how about you tell me what I'm here for, since I already know why you're here?' Harry winked at the camera, fussing with his cherry print tee. 'Hmm . I got a box of cherries, brought fresh from the farmer's market when I got out. I love the farmer's market, it always smells really nice when they're here. The guy who sells these,' Harry lifted the box of ripe cherries in indication, 'tells me they're the best in London, and I'm inclined to believe him. You should try cherries from the farmer's market, you know, Sir. They always taste fresher than the ones at the M&S or Waitrose. You can usually get them for a bargain, too, if you're good at being persuasive.' He smiled cheekily at the camera. 'I know I am, aren't I, Sir?'

A flood of comments, affirmatives again. A few catcalls. Harry watched them, amused, and gave a thank you to the first tipper of the evening.

'I've also got my lollipop, and a few others. This is the smallest one I have,' he said, taking the lollipop out of his mouth and turning it around for the camera. 'I think you'll like the shape of this one, Sir,' he continued, holding up a longer, cylindrical one. 'I've also got cherry flavoured lube. It's a relaxant, so I'm cheating a bit.' He held up the mentioned bottle. ‘Yes, Sir, I am going to be using it, since I can’t do rough on workdays.’ He put the items down and popped the lollipop back into his mouth, shuffling over a box with cherry stickers on the lid.

He opened it and lifted it slightly for his audience to see. ‘I decorated,’ he said plainly at the cherry-themed interior and exterior of the box, taking out a deep red, transparent glass dildo and a few leaf-green anal beads. ‘You get to choose what I use, Sir, because I can do one or the other. In my backside, that is. I could still suck the dildo off…’ he frowned contemplatively, looking down at his repertoire. Then he crunched through his lollipop and chewed on the bits, smirking at the camera in response to the few comments of ‘heathen !’ popping in chat.

A few tied cherry knots and a bit of fingering later, Harry got a request for a private stream, starting right then, for £500. He looked up, fingers still stuffed into his arse, face cherry red and lips puffy. ‘Okay,’ he agreed, out of breath, and pulled his fingers out, and ended the stream and started the process of a private stream.

Breathily he groaned, ‘I should have known it was you,’ when he saw the name of the only person present; Lord_Voldemort. ‘I hope you’re willing to tip me well, Sir.’

‘That’s why I requested once you'd had a decent amount of tips. I just doubled it, is all. '

'Sure are a mood-killer,' Harry sighed. 'What'd you want me to do?'

---

Harry liked sports. He liked competing, he liked the thrill of it. He signed up for as many rounders tournaments as he could fit into his busy schedule. One day Harry was held up late after an evening competition. He’d already streamed so that wasn’t what he was worried about, but he’d been a bit weak-kneed considering the insane orgasm he’d been told to give himself. Harry grumbled lowly to himself that he’d stop doing streams before competitions, knowing full well that that was a lie. Secretly, he enjoyed it, the adrenaline of running around while the aftershocks of pleasure were still coursing through his body, coating his skin in a haze. 

He’d been called to stay behind though, by his trainer, who had looked at him worriedly.

'You’re slower than you used to be,' she said, brows furrowed and arms folded over her chest.

'Spent too long in the gym yesterday,' Harry said, smiling harmlessly. 'I’ll be fine the next one, I promise. ‘Sides, we won either way.'

Madam Hooch sighed, massaging her forehead. 'You’re lucky you’re in top shape. It was too close a call for comfort, Potter. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.'

Harry grinned. '‘Course.' A big fat lie, of course, but she didn’t need to know that.

The changing rooms were empty save for a few slower ones putting on their socks. By the time Harry was undressed, he was the last one in the changing room, about to head into the showers. The water was colder than usual, as expected with people using up the warm water before he could get to the changing rooms.

Despite this, Harry took his sweet time, not minding the water slowly running colder, as he was used to taking cold showers in his youth. Harry stepped out naked, only a towel around his waist. He ran his hands through his hair, making it sticking up in all directions, relishing in the feeling of cooling water droplets running down his chest. Footsteps, loud on the tiles, originating from fancy heeled dress shoes. 'Hello?' Harry asked, confused, looking around.

Someone walked into the changing room, taller than him.

'I was told I'd find you here,' the voice of Professor Riddle spoke, face glued to some papers he was holding. 'I wanted to talk to you about-' Riddle looked up at Harry, who'd turned slightly red, gripping the towel around his waist. 

Ah, fuck. He never showed his body to anyone in person, afraid of what they'd say about his altered state from a childhood of malnourishment. To his surprise, Riddle's eyes traced his body up, then down. Wait, was he..?

'Potter?' Riddle asked, sounding slightly apprehensive. 'Do you happen to have a twin brother, possibly?'

'No,' Harry said, 'I don't.' He gripped his towel tighter, brushing over a triad of red crescent moon marks he'd made on his hip with his nails in a fit of pleasure just earlier this evening. Harry blushed harder at the thought of them when Riddle's eyes followed the movement and widened.

'I see.' There was an edge to Riddle's voice Harry couldn't decipher. 'I'll… be in my office, if you could come by when you're done, I need to talk to you about something.' Then he turned right around and paced out of there, muttering things under his breath.

Harry's brows raised into his hairline. Was that..? Did his professor just check him out ? The hottest professor on campus, at that?

'What the fuck ,' Harry breathed into the silence. Then he blanched. 'Oh, God.' Riddle must have thought… the marks on his hips. Harry let out a short breath. How the fuck would he explain that? He groaned, hit his head against his locker. Then he howled in pain and jumped back, clutching his forehead. He glanced at the door again through squinted eyes, but it stayed shut. He let out a breath, rubbed the sore spot under his fringe, brushing against his scar.

He hoped Riddle didn't get the wrong impression. God, it sucked to have a really big crush on your fucking teacher. He prayed Riddle hadn't thought he'd been fucking a girl, or that it would ruin his grades.

Harry toweled himself off and threw on his clothes, running his hands through his hair again, despite knowing it was futile. He brushed his hand over his hip again, as if trying to draw strength from the wounds there, and gathered his stuff, stuffed it into his bag, and made his way out of the changing rooms.

He looked up at the tall buildings, eyes searching out where he knew the window to Riddle's office to be. The light was on, and a silhouette was standing in front of the window. Harry felt eyes on him, and hurried his steps.

He took the elevator, because as much as he liked the feeling of muscle ache after a good match, he wasn't a masochist- the man's office was on the fifth floor, he really wasn't going to walk all that. When he finally got there, he knocked tentatively. A low voice told him to come in, and Harry did so, opening the door and slipping inside, closing the door behind him.

'Sir-' he began, but was interrupted.

'Ah,' Riddle said, turning toward him, an almost wistful smile on his face. 'That should have been the indicator, shouldn't it?'

Harry was confused. 'What do you mean, Sir?'

Riddle sighed lightly, picking up the papers he'd been looking at before, in the changing rooms. 'How do you tell someone you've been watching them get off on livestream for almost a year?' he murmured absently to the sheets of paper, loud enough for Harry to hear loud and clear. Then those eyes were on him again, calculating, and the implication of what his professor had just said hit him full on.

'You-' Harry turned bright red. 'You… you know?' He was greatly embarrassed at the thought of his professor watching him get off, enjoying it.

Riddle laughed to himself. 'Well, now I do. It was always odd how familiar your little nickname for the viewers sounded. I feel rather ridiculous for not noticing earlier, but, then again, people are easy to fool.'

Was that a compliment? Harry just stood there, cheeks cherry red, wringing the bottom of his shirt in his hands.

'Could you, er, not tell anyone?' he asked, shyly. 'I… I need to do it, for money, until I get my major.'

Riddle smirked, and oh god, that was downright sinful . Harry's breath hitched.

'I can,' Riddle purred, 'for a favour.'

'What… what kind of favour?'

'Well,' Riddle began, pushing himself away from the desk and towards Harry, 'I've been paying quite a lot for those private streams. I think I deserve a little investor's bonus , don't you?'

Harry let out a breath of surprise. There was only one person who'd asked for more than one private stream. His most avid watcher, the best tipper he could ever want. 'Lord Voldemort?'

Riddle's smirk widened. 'It's an anagram, you know. I'm rather proud of it.' He approached further, and Harry subconsciously took a step back when Riddle was an arm's length away, back hitting the wall. He chewed on his lip, eyes darting away. He wasn't sure if professor Riddle really meant what Harry thought he meant, but when he was boxed in against the wall by two strong arms, it was pretty clear.

'Well,' said Riddle, cool breath fanning against his forehead, the man looking down at him with intense eyes. Fuck, he was small compared to this giant man. 'What do you say?'

'Sure, Sir,' Harry said, kind of peeved at the height difference. 'But I'm gonna need a pinky promise.'

Riddle looked at him, amused. 'Is my word not enough?'

Harry peered up at him, acting as if he's incredibly not impressed. 'Nope. Gimme a pinky promise, Sir, or else no deal.'

Riddle hummed. 'How about this. I swear on your lovely, sinful mouth,' he raised a hand to Harry's lips and traced them, pressing down slightly on the plump of his lower lip so that his mouth opened, hot breath blowing across the thumb, 'that I won't tell anyone about your occupation, provided you put your mouth to work.'

Harry's eyes widened. That wasn't very crude, but still rather unexpected coming from the professor who made a point of using polite, proper English, always.

'Deal,' he said, pressing forward. Riddle's eyes widened minutely, then narrowed again, amused. Riddle hummed again and leaned down, covering Harry's lips with his own. Harry gasped and Riddle's hands slid down the wall and to the back of Harry's head as he deepened the kiss, licking against Harry's tongue.

The cool feeling of Riddle's tongue against his own partnered with the man's slender fingers running across the back of his neck gave Harry goosebumps, and he raised his hands to fist them in the man's waistcoat. Seriously though, who wore waistcoats in this day and age? Not that it didn't suit him, Harry revised his thought when he moaned into the man's mouth, eyes fluttering.

Riddle brushed a thumb along Harry’s jaw and Harry melted under the touch, internally grumbling. Then it moved down to his throat, following the curve of his neck to his collarbones. Harry pushed him away slightly, disconnecting their lips.

'C'mon, I'm pretty sure you didn't mean just make out for the night,' he said, opening his eyes, tracing his hands down the man's chest and unbuttoning the annoyingly posh waistcoat as he moved down. Riddle breathed slowly for a moment, before tearing Harry's hands away and holding them out of the way single-handedly, using the other to continue unbuttoning his waistcoat while he reclaimed Harry's mouth.

'Too much talking,' Riddle groaned against his mouth, 'I always enjoyed you more when you were quiet .'

'Mean,' Harry pouted against the man's lips, furrowing his brow, before giving in when teeth grazed against his lip.

Finally the damned waistcoat was off -Harry resolved to scrub the word from his mind later- and Riddle had to release his hands to shrug it off, which Harry used to his advantage to raise his hands to Riddle's perfect damn hair, determined to mess it up. He ran his hands through it, working through the gel until the hair was smooth under his touch, when Harry leaned back to smugly admire his work, until-

'Fuck, you're hotter like this,' Harry groaned. This wasn't fair! He was being blackmailed for having the job he had by his biggest fucking teacher crush, who was already really hot , and when Harry tried to get a little justice, the man just became more fucking flawless .

Fuck. Another tactic, then, Harry thought as Riddle pushed away from the wall and pulled him toward the couch, where the man fell down unceremoniously on top of it, sprawled out like a god, erection straining visibly against his slacks. The sight made Harry very aware of his own arousal, cock twitching.

Harry rounded the couch to face his professor again, face flaming when he saw that Riddle had his hand on his crotch, palming himself while he watched Harry. He looked so natural doing it, so composed. Then he lifted his hand and beckoned Harry closer.

Harry obeyed, hesitantly, dropping slowly to his knees next to the couch, between Riddle's legs. His breath hitched. A dildo was one thing, but the real thing…

He looked up, and met Riddle's eyes, intensely focused on his every move. Harry flushed, looking back down. 'Isn't this illegal, sir?'

Professor Riddle smirked, leaning further back on the couch, removing his hand. 'I'd beg to say what you do isn't very legal, either. Come on, darling. Indulge me.'

Harry let out a breath and lifted his hands to Riddle's trousers, undoing the button and lowering the zipper. He could feel the warmth under his hand, throat drying as he manoeuvered Riddle's boxers down, exposing his cock to the cool air. Riddle hissed lowly, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them again and staring at Harry hotly.

Harry swallowed, nervous, and moved forward, breath ghosting against Riddle's member. His professor's abdominal muscles tensed, and his hand shot towards Harry when said person decided, fuck it , and lowered his mouth onto the man's prick.

His nose filled with the musk of Riddle's sweat, a salty tang mixed with the lingering scent of patchouli. Harry steadied himself on Riddle's hips as the man's hand tangled into his hair, tugging lightly. First, Harry let himself become accustomed to the warm weight on his tongue, feeling out the size with small, experimental movements. When he had an idea of what he was dealing with -fuck, he hadn't realised people could actually be this big - he moved upward, flattening his tongue against the head. He dislodged his lips with a wet 'pop', dragging his tongue over the slit with an open mouth. Riddle was watching him, chest rising and falling deeply with his breaths.

'Mhh,' Harry groaned at himself and Riddle. 'I have no idea what I'm doing, can you tell?'

Riddle removed his hand from Harry's hair with, seemingly, a bit of effort, and plucked Harry's glasses off his face, putting them off to the side. 'Doing fine,' he rasped, breathless. 'Now shut up.'

Harry took the hint and got back to work, taking him into his mouth again, deeper this time. Naturally, Riddle's hand fisted into his hair again in a split second, a grunt reverberating through the man's chest as his hips bucked slightly. 

Harry retracted a bit, surprised by the movement. He breathed through his nose, moving his hands to his professor's hips to prevent himself choking the next time it threatened to happen. Riddle hissed out a breath, rubbing circles into Harry's scalp in what seemed like an apology. Harry relaxed his throat and went deeper again, trying to find his limit with something this size before he'd start on the real fun. When he found his limit, with a firm grip on Riddle's hips, he pulled his head up once more, shifting a little to lift some of the strain off his own cock, which was pressing hard against his shorts.

He let go for a moment to breathe through his mouth, always slightly unnerved by having to breathe through his nose when he did this. Riddle's hand in his hair tightened slightly at the feeling of Harry's breath, and pulled slightly, clearly wanting him to get back on. Harry ignored this and instead moved down next to Riddle's dick, sticking his tongue out to trace the veins with lidded eyes, watching, intrigued, how his own saliva glimmered in the low light. Riddle made a deep, guttural noise and his hips jerked again, stopped only by Harry's steady grip.

'Fuck, that's cold,' Riddle hissed when Harry took a small break to pant against him, and Harry made a surprised noise at the curse, which, of course, went straight to Riddle's cock, Harry having put his lips to the side of it, licking off the saliva.

Harry moved upwards, trailing his tongue hotly against Riddle's prick, and captured the head between his lips once he reached the top, flattening his tongue against it again.

"Harry," Riddle gasped out, his other hand also coming up to tangle in Harry's hair. Harry froze for a moment, his flush intensifying. He closed his eyes and swirled his tongue around the head like he'd tried with the glass dildo a few weeks ago; it was harder than before, but the resulting noise that tore itself from Riddle's throat was very worth it. Harry moaned in return, digging his fingers slightly into Riddle's hips as his own bucked involuntarily. He took a deep breath through his nose and then sunk down again, quicker than before, his throat convulsing slightly as the head pushed against it.

" Harry ," Riddle forced out again, and Harry kept himself there for as long as he could stand, eyebrows scrunching up in focus, before he came up and coughed, resting his forehead against Riddle's abdomen, trying to regain his breath, heart racing a mile a minute. "Let me-" professor Riddle started, cutting himself off mid-sentence with a deep breath, "let me fuck your mouth, darling," he breathed. Riddle was all but a mess when Harry looked up at him; cheeks flushed, eyes intense, jaw set with self-restraint.

"Okay," Harry rasped, hardly able to resist the request. "Okay, just give me a second," he continued, swallowing heavily. Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off him, hands firmly knotted into Harry's hair.

After a moment, Harry nodded, wiping his lips with his sleeve before putting his mouth back over Riddle's cock and moving his hands up so Riddle could move his hips more freely. He relaxed his throat, humming,  and went a little deeper to show Riddle it was fine. Almost instantly Riddle's hands pushed him further onto his cock, but slowly enough that Harry didn't choke.

Riddle pulled back after he pushed in almost all of the way, and started to set a pace, comfortable enough that Harry could just sit there, but too fast for Harry to really add to it. He would try, but he didn't want to risk accidentally pushing Riddle out of his mouth and making him stop, as the slow drag of his prick against Harry's tongue made him feel awfully hot and bothered, along with the lingering salty taste of precome that slowly became more and more prevalent as Riddle started breathing more harshly.

And then Riddle sped up, and Harry's throat protested but Harry forced himself to stay lax. His professor pushed him to the base of his cock and held him there, and Harry choked, but Riddle didn't let up, his cock pulsing once, twice, and then a hot fluid was filling his mouth, and Harry's eyes widened as he realised what just happened, watering as he tried not to choke when some of it shot into his throat.

Finally Riddle let up and pulled his hands from Harry's head. Harry shot back, gasping for air -that deep into his throat it blocked his nose- and swallowed without realising before coughing harshly, leaning away and doubling over next to the couch. Despite all this, he remained annoyingly hard, prick aching for attention when he brushed his thighs together in his rush for air. Some salty fluid made its way down his mouth, and, oh fuck, Harry thought, he just swallowed Riddle's spunk.

Said person was catching his breath too, intense, dark eyes watching Harry carefully as he recovered. When Harry stopped coughing, his shirt was grabbed roughly and he was pulled up onto the couch, scrambling to land well -in other words, just above Riddle's dick, which was, wonder above wonder, hardening again- and lips crashed against his, a tongue licking into his mouth.

"Fuck, you're hot like this," Riddle groaned, and sucked his own bodily fluids off Harry's lip. Harry stiffened when he felt Riddle's hardness against his arse.

"What the fuck is your refractory period?" Harry whined against Riddle's mouth, "I sucked you off literally five minutes ago!"

Riddle scoffed, trailing a hand up under Harry's shirt. "I'm not 45 yet, you little shit."

Harry blinked at his professor, swiping his tongue along his lip. "What're you doing, Sir?"

"Reciprocating," Riddle said simply, and rubbed his calloused thumb over a nipple. A shock ran through Harry at the feeling, and he gasped, cock pulsing.

"You-" Harry started, "You don't have to," he tried to tell Riddle, but the man just looked at him with his disgustingly sexy, half-lidded eyes and continued what he was doing. Harry arched into the touch.

"I don't," Riddle agreed, "but I am. Now shut up or I'll gag you."

Harry nodded absently, his hand coming up to his mouth slowly to stifle his sounds as Riddle's other hand moved to his prick, undoing the fastenings of his shorts and pushing them down along with Harry's underwear.

"Okay," Harry gasped, surprised. He reddened at Riddle's borderline scathing stare, and closed his mouth with a click, before completely forgetting whatever was going on and letting out a loud moan when the man took him in hand.

" Sir -" Harry called out into his hand, closing his eyes in pleasure. Riddle's hands were so warm, gripping him tightly, moving steadily, slicked only by the precum that beaded at the tip. Riddle swiped his thumb over the tip, and Harry let out a small, pathetic moan, that spurred Riddle on, his other hand digging into Harry's flesh, leaving little marks.

"C'mere, darling," Riddle purred, moving his hand so he could tug Harry closer, pushing his face against Harry's neck as their chest brushed. Harry flushed as Riddle's tongue moved against his skin, and he squeaked in surprise when his professor nipped at his skin, placing his hands on Riddle's chest.

"You kinky bastard," Harry grumbled, panting when Riddle's hand tightened in return.

"My parents were married, you know," Riddle said coolly. Harry scowled, feeling his professor smile against his neck before he cried out when teeth sunk into his flesh.

"Fucking cannibal," Harry snarled, fingers digging into Riddle's chest as he tried to stay as still as possible, pretending the pain didn't go straight to his cock as it twitched in Riddle's palm.

Riddle let up, licking over the wound before moving to some other place on Harry's neck and biting down there too, ignoring Harry's desperate moan, the hand pumping him stilling as Riddle became entirely focused on biting Harry wherever he could reach. He placed a deep bite on Harry's shoulder and placed a few deep red hickeys on Harry's chest, although he couldn't go very low, because Riddle was a giant and God was not just .

Then, when he was done, Riddle leaned back, pulling up Harry's shirt and pinching his nipple as he observed his work to Harry's chest. "Touch yourself for me, darling," he said with a deep voice, a spot of blood on his lip from where he bit Harry like a bloody vampire. "Let me see what I do to you."

Harry blushed at the familiar line and its possessive connotations. He pushed his hand down obediently when Riddle pulled his away, beginning to stroke himself rather quickly while Riddle's hands moved up his chest, feeling him up. He was rather desperate for release, and whined low in his throat at the loss of warmth compared to Riddle's hand, babbling nothings into the cool air. After a few minutes, though, he came with a small, pitiful moan, cum splattering on his professor’s chest. Said person’s eyes were dark, dilated almost fully with lust.

“Good boy,” Riddle breathed, swiping a finger through the mess on his chest and pushing it between Harry’s parted lips. Harry let out a soft moan at his own taste. “Such a good boy.” Harry’s eyes closed in bliss, and he let the professor’s hips roll below his own, exhausted. "Scoot down a bit, darling."

Harry pushed himself up and back, sliding off the couch and in between Riddle's legs once more. The man's hand was already on his own dick, jerking himself off quickly. Then his breath hitched and his cock jerked slightly, and for the second time that night, he came, spurting cum all over Harry's face, who panted against him, resting the side of his face on his professor's thigh, eyes closing in exhaustion.

'You've been so good,' Riddle whispered, stroking his hair. He retrieved a tissue from the coffee table, bending slightly to reach it, and cleaned Harry's face off gently, despite his obvious temptation to leave it there. He even got the worst out of his hair and off his neck and shoulders, before leaning Harry back without resistance -Harry had gone totally slack from bliss- and fixing his clothes. After a while, Harry came back down from his post-orgasmic haze, and mumbled a few questioning, rather incoherent things, even to his own ears.

A good twenty minutes later they'd both gotten fixed up and Harry was almost completely coherent again, the only evidence of their doing being his puffy lips and the peek of a deep wound made by teeth just from under his shirt collar.

‘We'll have to do this again, sometime,’ Riddle promised in a soothing tone against Harry’s mouth, pressing him firmly but delicately against the door for a last stolen kiss. Harry couldn’t find it in himself to refuse.

He finally exited, and just as he turned the corner, Riddle called after him, in his annoyingly sexy voice with his annoyingly sexy hair slightly messed up;

'Good night, darling.'