Whoosh! The Quaffle soared through the hoop, a blur of crimson slicing the crisp autumn air. The crowd erupted, a tidal wave of cheers crashing over the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.
Harry Potter, Gryffindor's star Chaser, pumped his fist, his broom wobbling slightly as he grinned ear to ear. The scoreboard flashed: Gryffindor 140, Ravenclaw 30.
"AND POTTER SCORES! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" Lee Jordan's voice boomed across the stadium, amplified by his wand and laced with unrestrained glee. "What a play! Potter's weaving through Ravenclaw's defense like they're standing still! That's his ninth goal this match, folks, and Gryffindor's pulling ahead!"
The stands were a riot of color—scarlet and gold banners waving frantically, Ravenclaw's blue and bronze holding strong but faltering under the Gryffindor onslaught. Harry looped back toward the center, his eyes scanning the pitch. Ron, who finally got his wish to play as keeper after Wood's departure, gave him a thumbs-up from the goalposts, his face and ears flushed with pride.
Harry spotted Hermione in the stands, smiling and clutching her scarf, torn between cheering and fretting over his reckless dives.
Lee's commentary crackled with excitement.
"Ravenclaw's Chasers are scrambling to respond, but Gryffindor's Beaters, Weasley and Weasley, are on fire! Fred—or is it George?—just sent a Bludger that nearly knocked Davies off his broom! Oh, and look at that—Gryffindor's Seeker, Ginny Weasley, is circling high above, eyes locked on something… could it be the Snitch?"
Harry's heart raced. The match was close, but if Ginny caught the Snitch now, they'd seal the victory. He gripped his Firebolt, urging it forward to intercept a Ravenclaw Chaser. The wind whipped through his hair, the roar of the crowd a distant hum as he focused on the Quaffle. He stole it mid-pass, spinning sharply to dodge a Bludger that whistled past his ear. The Gryffindor stands thundered with approval.
"POTTER'S GOT THE QUAFFLE AGAIN!" Lee shouted, nearly falling out of the commentator's box. "He's streaking toward the Ravenclaw hoops—look at that speed! He's unstoppable! Ravenclaw's Keeper better brace himself!"
Harry leaned low, the world blurring around him. The Ravenclaw Keeper hovered, tense, eyes darting. Harry feinted left, then flung the Quaffle right. Whoosh! It sailed through the hoop, clean and true. The crowd exploded, chants of "Potter! Potter!" shaking the stands.
"ANOTHER GOAL FOR GRYFFINDOR! THAT'S ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS!" Lee was practically screaming now. "And—HOLD ON! GINNY WEASLEY'S DIVING! SHE'S SPOTTED THE SNITCH!"
All eyes snapped upward. Ginny, a streak of red hair and determination, plummeted toward the pitch, her hand outstretched. The Ravenclaw Seeker trailed her, but she was too fast, too fierce. The tiny golden Snitch fluttered just ahead, glinting in the sunlight. Harry held his breath, hovering midair, the Quaffle forgotten.
"GO, GINNY!" Lee bellowed, his voice hoarse. "SHE'S ALMOST THERE—SHE'S GOT IT—YES! GINNY WEASLEY CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS, THREE HUNDRED POINTS TO THIRTY!"
The stadium erupted into pandemonium. Scarlet and gold confetti rained down, conjured by ecstatic Gryffindors. Harry soared toward Ginny, who held the Snitch aloft, her face alight with triumph. The team converged, laughing and shouting, as the crowd chanted their names. Lee's voice cut through one last time:
"What a match! Gryffindor's unstoppable, and Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley are the heroes of the day!"
As Harry landed, mobbed by his teammates, he glanced again at the stands, catching his mother's proud but relieved smile. It has been tough for her since his father's death but she always made the effort to come see his matches to cheer for him. He appreciated that more than he could say.
Harry was fifteen now, a proud fifth year Gryffindor and a future prospect of professional Quidditch. Already, scouts were fighting each other for the chance to sign the only son of the Potter family. His mother had always told him that as long as maintained his good grades, she would support him spending his free time training to get better at Quidditch and Lily Potter was nothing if not a woman of her word.
Every hour he had after he was done studying was spent on the pitch, running, flying or practicing moves that would give him the edge when needed.
Harry Potter was an athlete, probably the best player at Hogwarts now, and he was proud to have achieved that at only fifteen, it meant that he could still grow and get better.
As his team celebrated, hugging each other in a circle and jumping on the pitch, Harry made his way to the stands where his mother was climbing down the stairs. While he was walking, he observed how all the students that she crossed kept a respectful distance from her, gossiping behind their hands.
He was used to such a sight.
After all, the famous widow of James Potter only came in public for her son's games and disappeared soon after to Merlin know where.
It was no secret that Harry has spent his entire childhood in hiding after his father, James Potter, died fighting Voldemort on that fateful night of October 31st in 1981. The only saving grace was that his dad killed the Dark Lord before succumbing to his wounds.
From that point on, the Potter family became great celebrities in Britain and his mother had wanted none of it. She wanted to grieve in peace for the husband she lost and to raise her son far away from the spotlight.
After that night, she took Harry to the muggle world to hide on a great property that the Potter family owned in Wales. The only person other than his mom that he saw for the first eleven years of his life was his godfather, Sirius Black; and even then, not for long. He only saw him once or twice every year, for his birthday and Christmas.
Lily Potter was scarred from that night, maybe not physically but mentally, and she did not accept the presence of other people around her son.
Harry shook himself from his reverie induced by the adrenaline of the match going down as his mother finished climbing down the stairs and stood in front of him with a tender smile.
He returned her smile as he hugged her.
"Ugh honey, you are covered in sweat !" She told him with faux disgust, trying to fight him off.
"Come on Mom, don't you want to make sure I'm okay after that match ?" Harry answered teasingly as he kept her in his arms.
"I know you are okay, I was watching the whole game and you made them look like new players, as always !" Lily said proudly, giving up the fight and savoring being hugged by her son, his muscled body enveloping her in warmth.
Harry held her for a few moments before releasing her, his cheeks burning slightly at the closeness.
"You always say that, Mum, but I'm just doing my best out there."
Lily's green eyes sparkled with amusement. "Your best is better than most, Harry. Ten goals! I swear, you're going to give those scouts heart attacks before they even sign you."
Harry grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, Ginny's the one who sealed it. That dive was brilliant."
"She's a firecracker, that one," Lily agreed, glancing toward the pitch where Ginny was still being hoisted by the team. "You lot make a fearsome pair. Your dad would've been so proud."
The mention of James brought a bittersweet pang to Harry's chest, but he nodded, his smile softening. "Thanks, Mum. Means a lot."
They stood there for a moment, the noise of the celebrating crowd washing over them. Harry shifted his weight, and suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through his legs, like fire crawling up his calves. He winced, staggering slightly, and grabbed the railing for support.
"Harry?" Lily's voice was instantly sharp with worry, her hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," he said quickly, trying to brush it off, but another jolt of pain made him grit his teeth. "Just… my legs. They're cramping up."
Lily's brow furrowed, her eyes scanning him with a mother's intensity. "Cramping? Have they hurt like this before?"
"A bit, after practice sometimes," Harry admitted, his voice tight. "But not this bad. Probably just pushed too hard today."
"This isn't normal, Harry," Lily said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You've never reacted like this after a match. We need to get you checked."
"Mum, I'm fine," he protested, but the pain flared again, and he couldn't hide his grimace.
Lily's lips pressed into a thin line, her protective instincts kicking in. "Stay here. I'm going to talk to Professor McGonagall. You're coming home with me to rest, and that's final."
Before Harry could argue, she was already striding toward the staff tent, her red hair catching the fading sunlight. He couldn't help his eyes descending on the sway of her hips, highlighted by the tight jeans she wore.
A brutal jolt of pain brought him back to reality as he began leaning against the railing, trying to ease the ache in his legs.
From the corner of his eye, he saw his mother approach Professor McGonagall, who was overseeing the post-match chaos with her usual stern efficiency.
"Professor," Lily said, her voice calm but firm as she reached the tent. McGonagall turned, her sharp gaze softening slightly at the sight of Lily Potter.
"Lily, a fine match your son played," McGonagall began, but Lily shook her head.
"Thank you, Minerva, but I'm afraid Harry's hurt. His legs are giving him pain—worse than usual. I'm taking him home to rest and make sure it's nothing serious."
McGonagall's expression shifted to concern for her star player. "Is he alright? Madam Pomfrey can—"
"I'll handle it," Lily interrupted gently but decisively. "He's pushed himself hard, and I want him home where I can keep an eye on him. I'll bring him back tomorrow after he's had a proper rest."
McGonagall nodded, respecting Lily's resolve. "Very well. I'll inform the staff. Do let me know if he needs further attention."
"I will. Thank you, Minerva," Lily said, offering a tight smile before turning back toward Harry.
As she returned, Harry straightened, trying to look less pained than he felt. "Mum, you didn't have to—"
"Don't start," she said, her tone soft but unyielding. "We're going home. You're resting, and we'll figure out what's going on with your legs. No Quidditch until I'm sure you're alright."
Harry sighed but didn't argue. He knew that look in her eyes—fierce, protective, and utterly immovable. They made their way to the castle, Harry limping slightly as they reached the Floo Network in the staff room. Lily tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, the flames roaring green.
"Potter Estate, Wales," she said clearly, stepping in and pulling Harry with her. The world spun in a whirl of emerald fire, and they stumbled out into the cozy, familiar living room of their secluded home.
Lily steadied Harry, her arm around his waist as she guided him to the plush sofa by the hearth. His legs throbbed with every step, and he tried to focus on the familiar scent of cedar and lavender in the room rather than the way her body pressed against his side, her breasts brushing his arm.
He clenched his jaw, cheeks flushing, and kept his eyes fixed on the sofa ahead.
"Easy, love," Lily murmured, her voice gentle as she eased him down onto the cushions. She knelt in front of him, her hands resting lightly on his thighs, her eyes searching his face. "How bad is it now?"
Harry shifted, wincing as the pain flared again. "It's… still pretty bad," he admitted, his voice low. "Feels like my legs are burning."
Inwardly, he scolded himself. While he truly was in pain, the wince he made came for his mother's hands resting on his legs. Her fingers were so soft...
Lily's frown deepened, her fingers tightening slightly on his thighs. "You should've told me sooner, Harry. If you've been pushing yourself too hard, we need to pace your training. You're only fifteen—you can't risk injuring yourself like this."
"I didn't think it was a big deal," he said, leaning back against the sofa, trying to relax and forget about the fact that his mother was kneeling in front of him. "It's just cramps, right? Probably from flying too long."
"Maybe," Lily said, but her tone was skeptical. As if she heard his thoughts, she stood, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear, and crossed to the small cabinet by the fireplace. "I'm going to get you some water and a muscle-relaxing potion. Then you're staying put for the rest of the day."
Harry nodded, too tired to argue. "Thanks, Mum." He watched her hips sway in her thight jeans as she left the room and he swallowed, his throat feeling dry.
Lily Potter had always been beautiful to him but two years ago he had begun to notice exactly how attractive she was. He was forced to hear his classmates speaking about how sexy she was, about the way her pants always stuck to her butt and the tops she wore, more often than not showing a lot of cleavage.
Her auburn hair, pretty face and beautiful green eyes, the same as his, were the talk of the castle when she came for his matches and he understood why. Even he, her son, was not immune to her charms. Even when he tried dating a few witches, most of them fell short to his mother and it was frustrating him.
Harry tried to focus on her face as she returned with a glass of water and a small vial of shimmering blue liquid.
He must have failed because his eyes instinctively went down to her cleavage as she bent toward him. She was wearing a white shirt with the top four buttons undone, and the vast expanse of creamy skin that she offered was very distracting.
His cheeks heated up as he saw her amused smile.
"Eyes up, mister" Lily laughed softy, green eyes fond, "Drink this first," she said, handing him the water. "Then the potion. It'll help with the pain and loosen your muscles."
He took the glass, sipping slowly, and watched as she sat beside him, her expression amused but still etched with worry.
"You don't have to fuss so much," he said, half-smiling. "I'll be fine by tomorrow."
"I'll fuss as much as I like," Lily replied, her voice firm but warm. "You're my only son, and I won't have you hurting yourself for a game, no matter how much you love it. We'll see Madam Pomfrey if this doesn't improve by morning, but first I will try to help you as much as I can."
Harry swallowed the potion, grimacing at its bitter taste, and set the vial on the table. "You're worse than Hermione when it comes to worrying," he teased, trying to lighten the mood and forget about his earlier thoughts.
Lily's lips twitched into a small smile. "Someone has to keep you in line. Now, how do you feel ?"
"Pretty much the same, are the potions supposed to work fast ?" Harry asked curiously as he tried moving his muscles.
Lily nodded worriedly "Yes, they are usually fast acting. I use them sometimes, when my work gets too much. Are you sure you feel exactly the same ?"
"Yeah," Harry answered, trying to flex his calves and thigh and wincing in pain from the cramps. "My legs are still cramping."
Lily kneeled in front of him again and put her hands back on his thighs, making up and down movements on his legs, her fingers dangerously close to his crotch.
"Mum, what are you doing ?!" Harry said, panicking. He was not prepared for her position or the way her hands were touching him. He couldn't decide whether to focus on her cleavage revealed by the shirt she wore or the places her fingers were close to brush against.
"Hush, honey, I know what I am doing." She answered, smiling teasingly as she kept doing her movements on his thighs, "Need I remind you that I am a professional massage therapist ? This the routine for me."
Unfortunately for him, her way of moving her arms was making the flesh on her chest move in a hypnotic way and he couldn't look away or answer her, too busy gawking at her breasts.
Harry trusted her anyway. He knew that she took a job at a massage parlor about 10 years ago. The finances of the Potter family, while enough to feed them for generations, were only accessible by someone of Potter blood and of age. When the trust vault that James put aside for his wife ran dry, Lily had no other choice but to look for a job.
That is when she hit a big obstacle. Having done her entire education in the magical world, she had no qualifications to work in the muggle one. After a few months of searching, Lily finally was offered a job at a massage parlor, and she had not left since.
Harry was not aware of the details as Lily was quite secretive about her job. He only knew what she did and that the pay was very good, but he didn't know where the parlor was and was forbidden to ever go look for it.
Worse, Lily completely forbade him to speak about her activity at Hogwarts and when asked, he had always been obligated to lie.
He had often wondered about what was so secretive about her job, but ultimately his main focus was on Quidditch and he didn't have the time to daydream about what his mother did for a living.
He was brought out his reverie by Lily pushing harder on his thighs, making him wince in pain.
"Ouch, Mom !" Harry yelped "It really hurts !"
Lily's hands paused, her fingers lingering on Harry's thighs as she studied his face with a mix of concern and determination. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to hurt you," she said softly, her voice a warm caress in the quiet room.
Her touch lightened, gliding gently over his tense muscles, each motion deliberate and practiced. The firelight danced across her features, highlighting the curve of her jaw and the vibrant red of her hair, which fell loosely over her shoulders. Her white shirt clung to her form, the hem riding up slightly to reveal the pale skin of her stomach while the top half of her breasts was uncovered, and Harry's throat tightened, his pain warring with the heat pooling in his chest and the blood rushing to his cock.
"Relax, Harry," she murmured, her green eyes catching his, a playful spark beneath her worry. "You're stiffer than a broomstick after a storm." Her fingers traced higher, brushing the edge of his Quidditch shorts, and Harry's breath caught, his face flushing. The cramps in his legs pulsed, but her touch was a distraction he couldn't ignore, each stroke sending a shiver through him.
"Does this help?" she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper, as her hands paused just below his hips. She leaned closer, her hair grazing his knee, the scent of lavender and faint jasmine enveloping him. The room felt too small, the crackle of the hearth too loud against the thud of his heart.
"A bit," he managed, his voice rough. The pain hadn't faded, but her closeness was overwhelming, stirring feelings he tried to push down. He shifted, wincing as another cramp seized his calf. "It's still bad, though."
Lily frowned, her lips pressing into a determined line. "This isn't just overexertion," she said, her tone firm but gentle. "I know how to help you" She sat back on her heels, her shirt shifting slightly, drawing his eyes to the exposed skin before he forced them back to her face. "We need better access to those muscles. Your shorts are too tight for a proper massage."
Harry's eyes widened, his pulse spiking. "Mum, what—?"
"Shh, trust me," she said, her smile reassuring but with a teasing edge. "I'm a professional, remember?" Before he could protest, her fingers deftly tugged at the waistband of his Quidditch shorts. He watched in horror as she took off his shorts with disturbing ease, and his erection was revealed behind his boxers.
Harry's face burned scarlet, his heart lurching as he scrambled to cover the obvious bulge in his boxers, his arousal glaringly evident.
"Mum, I—I'm so sorry," he stammered, voice cracking with mortification. His eyes darted to the hearth, flames dancing wildly, but the air was thick with her scent—lavender and jasmine, warm and enveloping.
Lily's eyes widened for a fleeting moment, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before her lips curved into a gentle, almost amused smile.
"Harry, calm down," she said softly, her voice steady, carrying a hint of teasing warmth. "You're fifteen, love. These things happen. Trust me, I've seen a lot more in my line of work." Her tone was reassuring, professional, but her green eyes held a spark that made his pulse quicken. She stayed kneeling, her hands resting lightly on his knees, grounding him.
He didn't take the time to think about her words as her white shirt hugged her form, the firelight casting soft shadows across the exposed skin of her chest, and Harry forced his gaze back to her face, his cheeks still flaming.
"Let's focus on those cramps," she said, her voice calm but firm, redirecting with practiced ease. She ignored his obvious arousal as her fingers resumed their work, gliding over his thighs with slow, deliberate strokes, kneading the tense muscles. The touch was soothing, though it sent a faint shiver through him, mingling with the lingering ache in his legs.
"Relax, Harry," she murmured, leaning closer, her hair brushing his knee. She pressed a soft, quick kiss to his shin, just above the worst of the cramps, her lips warm and fleeting. "This should help." Her hands worked higher, careful and professional, easing the tension in his muscles. A few times however, he felt the tip of her fingers brushing against his crotch and it only made him more aroused. He couldn't think of a time when he has been harder.
"Better?" she asked, sitting back on her heels, her eyes searching his with a mix of concern and quiet confidence.
"Not really" he mumbled, his voice low, the pain dulling very slightly under her skilled touch, though the cramps were still very present.
Lily paused, her green eyes narrowing as she studied his tense expression.
"Still no relief?" She murmured, her voice low, laced with concern and a hint of something softer, teasing. Her hands were lingering on his knees, her touch warm and maddeningly close. "The potion and massage should've worked by now, Harry."
He nodded, a sharp wince escaping as another cramp clawed his calf. Though the pain was a fading echo against the firestorm her closeness ignited.
"It's… still bad," he rasped, his voice thick with strain, caught in the maelstrom of agony and the aching want her touch provoked. His body betrayed him, his arousal throbbing beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, and he prayed she didn't notice the full extent of his reaction.
Lily rose, her movements languid, fluid, like a spell weaving through the air. Her shirt shifted, baring more of her smooth, glowing skin, and her jeans hugged her butt, embracing the shape of her bountiful butt cheeks.
"This isn't enough," she said, her voice rich with determination and a promise that set his nerves alight. "We will try the pool, Harry. Fresh water will melt those knots away… and relax you in ways you can't imagine." Her lips curved into a slow, sultry smile, her eyes smoldering with something that made his breath hitch. "It's worked magic for my clients."
Harry's mind reeled, conjuring images of their hidden pool. It was in their backyard, close to the terrace. Previous generations of Potters used magic to make sure the water was always clean and fresh, it was truly a private oasis where the world couldn't intrude.
"The pool?" He echoed, his voice hoarse, desire and pain tangling in his chest. The thought of her in so little clothes, the water glistening on her skin, sent a fresh wave of heat through him, his cramps a distant afterthought as his cock somehow got harder.
"Exactly" she said, raising an amused eyebrow as she looked at the bulge in his boxers. "I will get my bikini and then I will help you to the pool."
"O-o-okay, mum..." Harry breathed nervously, him that usually so confident with girls was reduced to gibbering wreck. "Thanks for...helping me." He added as he covered his bulge with his hands to keep the last vestiges of dignity he had left.
Lily's smile softened, her eyes warm with concern as she glanced at Harry's flushed face.
"You are my son, Harry and I love you, I always help you." She said gently, her voice soothing.
She then turned and walked toward the hallway, her jeans fitting snugly, revealing all and nothing at the same time, her white shirt was tight against her back and he could see her smooth pink skin while noticing the absence of a bra.
Harry watched the whole way, hypnotized by the way her butt moved and swayed, before she entered her room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Harry exhaled shakily, his hands covering still his boxers, the cramps still gnawing at his legs but the pressure in his cock felt even more difficult to handle.
Harry slumped on the sofa, hands pressed tight over his boxers, heart hammering like he'd just dodged a Bludger.
The cramps in his legs were brutal, a sharp, gnawing pain that wouldn't quit, but it was the other heat—the one burning low in his gut—that was messing with his head.
Her words, "I'll get my bikini and help you to the pool," hung in the air, her voice soft but with that teasing edge that made his skin prickle. He could still see her walking away, those tight blue jeans hugging her hips, the curve of her backside calling to him, and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to shove the image away.
He was fifteen, damn it, not some awkward prepubescent kid, but his mum had a way of unraveling him like no one else could.
The living room felt too warm, the fire crackling in the hearth like it was laughing at him. Her hands on his thighs earlier, those accidental brushes against his boxers, had left him hard as hell, and her casual "I've seen a lot more" only made it worse. She'd said it with that spark in her green eyes, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
He had not taken the time to think about the meaning behind those words, but their implications somehow made his sex harder.
The pool, their hidden spot out back, kept creeping into his mind—water glinting under the afternoon sun, her in a bikini, all curves and wet skin.
He shook his head, muttering, "Get a grip, Potter," as another cramp clawed his calf, grounding him just enough to keep him from spiraling.
He heard the door of his mother's room opening, and Harry's head snapped up, his breath catching like he'd been hexed.
Lily stood there, already changed, and Merlin, she was a vision that stole every thought.
Her bikini was a scandalous emerald two piece, the fabric so minimal it was practically sinful. The bottoms were nothing but thin, delicate strings, tied precariously low on her hips, barely covering the front and leaving the full, rounded curves of her backside entirely exposed.
The thong dipped low, hugging the smooth V of her pelvis, accentuating the soft, inviting swell where her thighs met her hips, the strings cutting into her skin just enough to highlight every luscious curve.
The fabric clung to her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination, the emerald hue catching the light and making her look like a goddess carved from desire.
The top was just as daring, two tiny triangles tied loosely around her neck and back, straining against the generous swell of her breasts, the edges teasingly close to slipping, revealing the creamy expanse of her chest.
Her auburn hair spilled over her shoulders, wild and fiery, framing her like a halo, and her skin glowed, as if already kissed by the water she promised.
"You ready, love?" she asked, her voice warm, a little playful, like she was trying to keep things light despite the worry in her eyes.
She crossed to the sofa, her hips swaying just enough to make his throat go dry, the thong shifting with each step, showing off the curve of her backside.
Harry's hands stayed glued to his crotch, his arousal throbbing under his boxers, and he prayed she didn't notice how much he was struggling. He already felt the precum leaking and coating his underwear under his hands.
"Y-yeah, Mum," he managed, his voice rough, cracking like he was still a teenager. A cramp hit his leg again, sharp and mean, and he winced, gripping the sofa.
Lily's face softened, her eyes flicking over him with that fierce, protective look she always had when he was hurting.
"Oh, Harry," she said, her voice dropping, almost a whisper, as she knelt beside him. Her scent—lavender and a hint of jasmine—hit him like a wave, and he tried to focus on anything else.
"Come on, let's get you up." She offered her arm, her skin warm under his fingers as he grabbed it, hauling himself up with a grunt. His legs screamed in protest, and she slid her arm around his waist, steadying him, her body pressing close. The edge of her left breast brushed against his arm, and he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his eyes to the ground. He had never felt something so soft before.
They shuffled toward the glass doors, the cool afternoon air hitting him as they stepped outside, a relief after the stuffy living room. The pool sparkled under the wards, its surface rippling like it was calling to them, surrounded by thick greenery that made it feel like their own little world.
Lily's arm stayed tight around him, her warmth both comforting and maddening as they reached a lounge chair by the water.
"Sit for a sec," she said, easing him down, her hands lingering on his shoulders. The thong bikini moved with her, the strings pulling taut against her hips, and Harry's eyes darted away, landing on the pool instead. His hands stayed over his lap, his cramps still biting, but the thought of her in that bikini, water sliding over her skin, was doing things to him he didn't want to admit.
"You'll feel better in the water," she said, her voice soft but sure, like she was promising more than just relief from the pain. She stood before adding. "It has always worked for me before." Her eyes met his, a mix of worry and the deep maternal love she always showed him, and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
"Thanks, Mum," he mumbled, his voice thick, his body caught between the ache in his legs and the heat she'd stirred.
Lily smiled, a small, knowing curve of her lips, and stepped toward the pool, her thong bikini shifting with every move, leaving him helpless, his heart racing as she offered her hand to pull him into the water.
His eyes went down for a second and widened as they fell on her mostly exposed breasts and from the corner of his eye, he could clearly see her round butt, highlighted by her small thong.
Harry took her hand and prepared himself to go into the pool when she stopped him.
"No, Harry. You can't go in the pool in your boxers, you need to put on your swimsuit." Lily said softly but with insistence, pointing with the hand that he was not holding onto the swimming trunks she had brought.
"But Mum, I need to go to my bedroom to change." Harry protested weakly, aware that it was just an excuse to get privacy and masturbate in order to calm his urges.
"Don't be ridiculous, love." She chided gently, "You have nothing that I have not seen before. I made you if you recall." Lily added, laughing.
Harry blushed a bit more. The shameful reminder that he was actively fantasizing about his own mother was a hard pill to swallow.
"I can't just get naked in front you, mom !" He said desperately, "At least turn around while I change !"
"Alright, honey, if it makes you feel better... But know that you do not need to have any shame in front of me." Lily said tenderly, but she still accepted her son's request and turned around.
Harry quickly bent to retrieve the swimming trunks and take off his boxers. But when he lifted his head again, he nearly groaned as he understood the mistake he made.
By asking Lily to turn around, he now found himself naked and right in front of his mother's beautiful round ass.
Harry's heart thudded, his breath catching as he stood frozen, naked, the swimming trunks forgotten at his feet.
Lily's emerald thong bikini hugged her hips, the thin strings framing the full, rounded curves of her backside, each cheek a perfect, tantalizing swell that gleamed under the sunlight. The sight was overwhelming, her bare skin glowing, the thong dipping low to accentuate every smooth line, leaving him dizzy with a heat that drowned the cramps in his legs. His arousal surged, impossible to hide, and he cursed himself, shame and desire twisting in his chest.
Lily, oblivious, stood with her back to him, her red hair cascading down her shoulders, the bikini top barely containing her curves. "Hurry up, love," she called softly, her voice warm, teasing, "the water's waiting." Her hips shifted slightly, the thong pulling taut, highlighting the lush curve of her backside, and Harry's mouth went dry, his hands fumbling for the trunks that he couldn't seem to find.
As only silence answered her voice, Lily decided to turn to see what was wrong.
She found herself gaping at the sight of her son, his hard cock in hand and leaking precum as he stared at her body in shock.
She quickly decided to play down the situation and act like it was nothing.
"Oh, Harry, love," she said, her voice warm, almost playful, as if she'd stumbled on him spilling pumpkin juice rather than something far more intimate. "Like I told you, it's nothing I haven't seen before. No need to be shy." Her green eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and reassurance, though a faint flush crept up her neck, betraying her calm.
She stepped closer, her bikini top straining against the weight of her breasts, the thong shifting with each move, highlighting the smooth, inviting swell of her backside.
"M-Mum, I'm—Merlin, I'm sorry," Harry stammered, his voice a hoarse whisper, scrambling to pull on the trunks, his hands shaking. The cramps in his legs flared, grounding him, but the sight of her—her bare skin glowing, her thong leaving so little to the imagination—kept his pulse racing, his arousal unrelenting.
Lily waved a hand, dismissing his panic.
"Hush, love, it's natural, and I'm flattered by your interest. Now, let's get you in the water." She offered her hand, her touch warm, steady, as she guided him toward the pool's edge.
The water shimmered, promising relief, but as her hip brushed his, her backside grazing his thigh, the line between pain and desire blurred, pulling him deeper into the haze.
They entered the water by the soft edge of the pool that acted like a beach. The water moving around their feet was the only sound disturbing the otherwise peaceful exterior of their house.
Lily was slowly guiding her son by the hand, careful to not hurt him by going too fast.
Harry was walking a little bit behind his mother, in dazed state. His eyes were fixated on her plump ass cheeks rolling around her thong, the small string of fabric disappearing between the inviting flesh.
He only realized they stopped when he felt his mother's hand on his chest stopping him ; and, when he lifted his eyes form her backside, he felt his face heating up again from her amused expression.
"Let's sit in the water for now, let yourself float and your muscles relaxing." Lily's voice was soft and soothing, she tried not to show how much her son's fixation on her body was affecting her. Her lower belly felt full of butterflies and her throat was constricting, a mix of pride, worry and excitement choking her.
"O-o-okay, mum.." Harry stammered, face flushed and ready to die from shame. How many more times will his mother catch him staring at her ass before she got angry ?!
He put his head under the water to let the cold calm him before resurfacing and letting his body floating in the fresh water, the gentle ripples lapping against his skin, soothing the cramps that had gripped his legs so fiercely.
The coolness of the pool calmed the fire in his veins, and he focused on the steady rhythm of his breathing, in and out, willing his body to settle. The sunlight danced on the water's surface, casting a soft glow over the secluded pool, their private haven hidden by wards and whispering trees.
For a moment, he felt in control, the shameful heat of his earlier fixation on his mother's body fading into the background.
Lily sat beside him, her legs stretched out in the shallow, beach-like edge of the pool, the water swirling around her thighs. The way she was sitting was making her hips stand out and her breasts sit nicely on her chest, but Harry kept his eyes fixed on the sky, determined not to let his gaze wander again.
Her presence was still overwhelming, though—her scent of lavender and jasmine mingling with the fresh afternoon, air, her soft breathing a quiet counterpoint to the water's gentle slosh.
"Feeling any better, love?" she asked, her voice low and tender, cutting through the haze of his thoughts. She shifted slightly, the water rippling around her, and Harry risked a glance, catching her green eyes watching him with a mix of concern and that loving pride that made his chest tighten. Her auburn hair clung to her shoulders, damp from the water, and the bikini top strained against her curves, but it was the warmth in her expression that held him.
"Yeah… a bit," he mumbled, his voice steadier now, though his face still burned from the memory of her catching him staring. He floated a little closer to the edge, letting the water support his weight, the cramps easing as his muscles relaxed. "The water's helping, I think."
"Good," Lily said, her smile softening. She leaned back on her hands, the movement making the thong shift, the strings pulling taut against her hips, accentuating the lush swell of her backside. Harry swallowed hard, forcing his eyes back to her face, his heart giving a traitorous thud. "Just keep floating, let the water do its work. You've pushed yourself too hard, Harry."
He nodded, grateful for the distraction of her words, though her closeness kept his nerves on edge.
"I didn't mean to… you know, earlier," he blurted, his voice low, the shame creeping back. "I'm sorry, Mum. I just—"
"Shh, love," she cut him off gently, her hand reaching out to brush his arm, her touch warm and reassuring despite the electric jolt it sent through him. "You're fifteen, Harry. It's normal to notice things. No need to be embarrassed." Her tone was light, but there was a faint flush on her cheeks, a subtle sign she wasn't as unaffected as she seemed. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered harder, but she pushed them down, focusing on her son's comfort.
Harry sank a little lower in the water, letting it cover his chin, hiding his burning face.
"Still feels weird," he muttered, his eyes flicking to the sky again. The cramps were duller now, a manageable ache, but the tension between them lingered, a quiet undercurrent in the still afternoon.
Lily chuckled softly, the sound warm and disarming.
"You're too hard on yourself," she said, shifting to sit closer, her thigh brushing his as she adjusted. The thong bikini moved with her, the strings framing her wide hips in a way that made his breath catch, though he fought to keep his gaze on her face. "Just relax, okay? I'm here to help, not judge."
He nodded, his throat tight, and let himself float again, the water cradling him. The warmth of her presence, the gentle lap of the pool, and the fading pain in his legs created a strange sense of calm, though the spark of desire still simmered beneath it all.
Lily's hand rested lightly on his shoulder now, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin, and he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the relief, not the heat her touch stirred.
"Keep breathing, love," she murmured, her voice a soothing lullaby against the night. "We'll stay here as long as you need."
A few minutes later, as Harry began to truly relax in the pool, his mind started to wander to this weird day and the words his mother spoke earlier.
He was not sure if he truly wanted to know, but he had to ask.
"Mom ?" Harry called softly, not wanting to disturb the calm that enveloped them.
" Hmm ? Are the cramps back, honey ?" Lily answered in her maternal voice, still sitting at edge of the pool.
" No, mom….I…I have a question… " He hesitated, not sure on the best way to begin this conversation.
"Go ahead, love, is it about your pains ? " His mother asked, unaware of the troubles brewing in her son's head.
" No…Well…not really… " Harry stammered a bit, looking for the right words. His throat tightened, the words feeling heavy, uncertain. "It's about… your job."
Lily's hand paused on the pool's rim, her green eyes flicking to him, narrowing slightly with a guarded warmth.
"My job?" she said, her tone light but cautious, a faint smile playing on her lips. "What about it, love?"
Harry swallowed, his cheeks warming, his pulse quickening.
"You said… you've seen a lot more. At work. And you're always so secretive about it. You're a massage therapist, right? But… what do you really do?" His voice grew bolder, though his eyes darted to the water, avoiding her gaze. "Why can't I ever talk about it?"
Lily's smile softened, but her expression remained elusive, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the pool's edge.
"Oh, Harry," she murmured, her voice a velvet caress, deflecting with a playful lilt. "It's just work, darling. Nothing worth fussing over. I help people relax, ease their stress. You know that."
Harry frowned, the water lapping at his chest, her vague answer only fueling his curiosity.
"But… it's more than that, isn't it?" he pressed, his voice low, insistent. "You told me to lie about it at Hogwarts. You never say where you work or… what's so special about it. I'm fifteen, Mum. I can handle it."
Lily chuckled, the sound warm but evasive, her thigh shifting in the water, the thong bikini catching the sunlight.
"You're curious, aren't you?" she teased, leaning back on her hands, her posture relaxed but her eyes guarded. "It's just a private spa, love, in the Muggle world. High-end clients, fancy oils, a bit of pampering. Nothing exciting enough to spill secrets over."
Harry's brow furrowed, her deflection grating on him.
"But what do you mean by 'seen a lot more'?" he asked, his voice sharper, meeting her eyes now. "That didn't sound like just massages. And why's it such a big deal to keep it quiet?"
Lily's smile didn't falter, but her flush deepened slightly, her gaze drifting to the water for a moment as she reprimanded herself for the words she had let slip.
"You're reading too much into it, darling," she said smoothly, her voice light, brushing off his question. "In my line of work, you see people at their… most relaxed, let's say. It's not always glamorous, but it's no scandal either. I keep it quiet to avoid nosy gossip, that's all." Her hand reached out, brushing his arm briefly, her touch warm but fleeting, a distraction from her vague words.
Harry exhaled, frustration simmering beneath his curiosity.
"Come on, Mum," he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. "You're not really answering me. What do your clients want? Why's it so… different?"
Lily's chuckle was softer now, almost indulgent, her green eyes glinting with a teasing spark as she leaned closer, her thigh grazing his in the water.
"Oh, Harry, you're relentless," she murmured, her tone playful, dodging again. "They want what everyone wants—relief, escape, a bit of care. I give them that, with a few fancy techniques and a smile. Nothing worth digging into, love." Her hand squeezed his shoulder gently, her touch reassuring but firm, steering him away from the topic. "Let's focus on you, yeah? How're your legs feeling now?"
Harry sank back into the water, the cramps nearly gone but his mind still churning, her evasiveness leaving him with more questions than answers.
"Better," he muttered, voice low, his eyes flicking to her, then away. "But… you're not telling me everything."
Lily's smile widened, a mix of amusement and affection, her fingers trailing along the pool's edge.
"Maybe not, darling," she said, her voice a sultry whisper, her tone light but final. "Some things are just… grown-up business. You'll understand one day. For now, let's enjoy the pool, alright?"
He nodded, throat tight, the spark of curiosity lingering alongside the heat her presence stirred. The pool's warmth cradled them and Harry let himself float, heart racing, caught between frustration and the pull of her elusive charm.
They stayed in silence for a few minutes longer before Lily broke it.
"Alright, love," She said, her voice a soft, teasing lilt, cutting through the silence. "You're looking steadier. Do you want to come back inside ?" Her green eyes glinted with affection, though a guarded spark lingered, as if she sensed his unanswered questions still simmering.
Harry hesitated, sinking a bit deeper into the water, his cheeks warm. "I… think I'll stay in a bit longer," he mumbled, his voice low, eyes flicking to the ripples around him. The pool's calm felt like a shield, giving him space to wrestle with the day's revelations.
Lily's smile softened, a mix of amusement and understanding crossing her face.
"Fair enough, darling," she said, standing smoothly, water cascading off her skin. She shook her damp red hair, sending a few drops around before sending him a beautiful smile. "Don't stay too long, yeah? You'll turn into a prune."
Her teasing tone carried a warm edge, her tits swaying as she grabbed a towel from the poolside.
Harry nodded, throat tight, watching as she draped the towel over her shoulders and started toward the house.
The soft sway of her hips, the thong bikini highlighting the whiteness of her butt as it rolled around the string, held his gaze, a quiet pull he couldn't quite shake.
The sunlight cast gentle shadows across her form, her steps light on the stone path, and he felt a pang of something—curiosity, admiration, maybe more—tugging at him.
As she disappeared in the house, he found himself reflecting and cursing himself for letting his hormones control him to the point that he found himself lusting after his own mother.
Harry had always prided himself on his ability to focus and his discipline, now he found himself powerless due his mom's beauty and it was not acceptable. He needed to do better.
He just hoped that she would wear more clothes for the rest of the afternoon….
Harry lingered in the pool for a while after his mother left.
The warm water lapped at his chest, its gentle ripples a fleeting balm against the turmoil in his mind. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting golden flecks across the surface, but Lily's evasive answers about her job churned in his thoughts, her teasing deflections fueling a restless curiosity.
The image of her emerald bikini, her big white breasts barely hidden by the top and her round ass swaying as she walked away, burned in his mind, and he clenched his jaw, fighting the heat it stirred.
He felt his cock rising as if it had a mind of its own as the memories kept flashing in his mind. What he would not have given to get a glimpse of those tiny nipples…
With a deep breath, he waded to the shallow end, water sliding off his skin as he climbed out.
The afternoon air was thick, scented with jasmine, and Harry grabbed a towel from a lounge chair, drying off roughly. He tugged his swim trunks tight, as if the act could rein in his wandering thoughts, and headed for the house, bare feet slapping the stone path.
The living room was quiet, sunlight pouring through the glass doors, and Lily was gone, likely in her room. Relief mixed with a pang of longing resonated in his chest as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, each step a bid to escape her lingering presence—her uncovered skin, the shape of her body and her motherly smile that was troubling him in way nothing ever did before.
His room was a familiar mess—Quidditch posters plastered on the walls, spellbooks scattered on the desk, his broom propped in the corner.
He shut the door, tossing the towel onto his bed, and caught his reflection in the mirror: flushed cheeks, damp hair, tension etched in his jaw and a rock-hard erection that couldn't seem to leave. "Get a grip, Potter," he muttered, heading to his dresser for dry clothes.
A sudden, vicious cramp tore through his calf, sharper than before, like a blade twisting deep. He gasped, staggering, grabbing the dresser, but another spasm ripped through his hamstrings, brutal and unyielding.
His legs buckled, and a raw cry escaped him as he crumpled to the floor, hands clawing at his calf, desperate to ease the pain.
"Fuck," he choked, sweat beading on his forehead, the room spinning as the cramps surged, a relentless fire in his muscles.
The door burst open, and Lily rushed in, her face pale with alarm. She wore a loose cotton robe, tied sloppily around her waist, her wet red hair spilling wild over her shoulders; her cleavage was bouncing in her robe, only held by a bra that seemed 3 sizes too small, making her tits stand out even more than usual.
"Harry!" She gasped, dropping beside him, hands hovering over his shaking legs. "The cramps again, love?" Her voice was thick with worry, her maternal instinct kicking in hard.
"Worse," he gritted out, teeth clenched, body trembling. "Hurts like hell." Another spasm hit, and he groaned, gripping the back of his leg, knuckles white.
Lily's hands moved fast, firm but gentle, kneading his calf with skilled fingers.
"Breathe, Harry, breathe," she urged, her voice steady despite the fear in her green eyes. "In and out, focus on me." Her thumbs pressed deep, coaxing the muscle to loosen, her warmth cutting through the pain. It didn't fade right away, but her touch was a lifeline, anchoring him.
"Why's it… so bad?" he panted, eyes squeezed shut, another wave making him flinch.
Lily's brow creased, her hands shifting to his thigh, digging into the knot.
"I don't know, love," she said, voice tight. "Maybe you overdid it at the match, or… something's off." She worked in silence for a moment, her fingers relentless, but the cramps held fast, each spasm drawing a hiss from Harry.
Her eyes darted to his face, assessing, and a flicker of hesitation crossed her features. She bit her lip, her hands pausing briefly, her gaze distant as if wrestling with a decision.
"Harry," she said finally, her voice softer, laced with unease. "I think I can help you but...the oils and tools here aren't enough. I've got better ones at work—special blends, equipment that could help. But…" She trailed off, her flush deepening, her fingers tightening on his leg. "It's not a place I ever wanted you to see, love. My work, it's… complicated."
"Your work?" Harry rasped, pain fogging his thoughts, though her hesitation piqued his curiosity. The mysterious spa she'd dodged talking about loomed in his mind, its secrets tied to her evasive answers in the pool. "The… massage parlor?"
Lily nodded, her expression conflicted.
"Yes. It's open right now and I believe I can treat you properly there, or at least alleviate your pains." She paused, her eyes searching his, a shadow of doubt lingering. "But it's… a private place, for clients who want… discretion. Things happen there that aren't… for everyone to know." She hesitated again, her robe slipping slightly, revealing more of her décolleté, the curve of her breasts barely contained. "I don't want you to think differently of me."
Harry's brow furrowed, the pain making it hard to focus, but her words stirred the questions he'd asked earlier.
"What do you mean, complicated?" he asked, voice strained. "Mum, I'm fifteen. I can handle it."
Lily's smile was tight, her hand brushing his damp hair from his forehead.
"I know you're grown, Harry," she said softly, her voice tinged with reluctance. "But it's not just massages. It's… a place where people seek more than physical relief. It's intimate, private, and I've kept it from you to protect you." She paused, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Taking you there… it's a risk. People might talk, or you might see things that… change how you see me."
Harry shook his head, his thoughts in shambles and unable to focus on her words, wincing as another cramp hit.
"I won't, Mum. I just… need this to stop." His voice broke, the pain overwhelming, and Lily's resolve wavered, her jaw tightening as she weighed her options.
She stood, pacing a few steps, her robe swaying, the fabric clinging to her hips, hinting at the roundness of her ass.
"There's got to be another way," she muttered, more to herself than to him, her hands wringing together. "Madam Pomfrey, maybe, or… a healer at home." But another groan from Harry cut her off, and she swiftly knelt beside him again, her hands resuming their work, her eyes filled with anguish. "You're in too much pain, love. I can't let you suffer like this."
Harry panted, his vision blurring.
"Please, Mum. Whatever it takes."
Lily's breath hitched, her hands trembling slightly as she kneaded his thigh. She had a feeling that their mother and son relationship was going to get a lot more complicated from now on.
"Alright," she said finally, her voice firm but heavy with reluctance. "We're going to Serenity Spa. But you stay close to me, and… don't ask too many questions there, alright?"
She stood, offering her hand, her grip strong as she pulled him up, her arm wrapping around his waist to support his weight. They shuffled downstairs, her warmth a quiet comfort, her lavender scent grounding him as they moved through the living room.
"Hold tight, love, I will side-apparate you. This will be uncomfortable." She murmured, sorry to put him through that in his state, her arm firm around him as she focused.
The world spun, the sensation of being compressed and twisted wrenching a gasp from Harry as the pain in his legs flared. His vision blurred, the familiar squeeze of Apparition amplifying his agony, but Lily's grip held him steady, her warmth a faint anchor in the chaos.
Harry stumbled, legs threatening to give out, but Lily steadied him, her hands firm on his arms.
"Easy, love," she whispered, her voice a soothing anchor. He blinked, taking in their surroundings.
They had arrived in a small dark alley, hidden by a row of the black trash bins that were so common in this part of London.
The afternoon sun was nearly completely hidden by the buildings around, and the sounds of cars hinted at their closeness to the road.
Lily adjusted her grip on his waist, supporting most of his weight as he stumbled, his shins and thighs still cramping.
"Come on, baby, it's not far from here." She encouraged him softly, gently helping him forward.
They walked a bit, leaving the small alley to join the main road. Harry looked around, still leaning against his mom. The buildings were all very well-maintained, with the red bricks of their fronts and the cars parked in rows along the road clearly indicating that they were in one of the richest parts of London.
Lily urged him forward and soon, they stopped in front of one the buildings. Unlike the others, this one was more modern-looking, and its facade was made entirely of dark-tinted glass. Harry couldn't see anything through the front and his attention was grabbed by the sign over the door.
'Serenity Spa'
They entered the building, and Harry took a second to observe the place as they went. They were walking on a plush burgundy carpet, softly illuminated by ornate sconces on the walls that were decorated by shelves lined with bottles of oils and creams.
At the reception desk stood a young woman in a silk bathrobe, tied like Lily's, at the waist, revealing a lacy black bra and the waistbands of her g-string.
Her dark hair was swept into a sleek ponytail, her makeup was done in a clear gothic style, it was bold with smoky eyes and crimson lips that highlighted her blue eyes and clear white skin, her nipples clearly visible through the lace, her cleavage deep and inviting.
She glanced up, her gaze lingering on Harry with a knowing smile before settling on Lily. "Lily, back so soon?" She said, her voice smooth, almost purring. "You bring your own clients, now ?"
"It's an emergency, Clara," Lily replied, her tone clipped but polite, her arm tightening around Harry while her face flushed. "I need a room. Now."
Clara nodded, her eyes flicking to Harry again, a hint of curiosity and something hungry in her gaze.
"Room 7's free. Take your time and have fun, she's the best." She said the last part with a sultry smile toward Harry as she scribbled something in her ledger, her robe slipping further, revealing more of her lacy underwear.
"Thanks," Lily said curtly, steering Harry past the desk.
From the rooms beyond, soft moans and explicit sighs drifted—low gasps, murmured encouragements, the rhythmic creak of furniture—creating a hum of pleasure that made Harry's cheeks burn, even through his pain.
His mind raced, the sounds amplifying his curiosity about what his mother did here, but another cramp silenced him, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.
Lily's grip tightened, her voice low and urgent.
"Ignore it, Harry," she said, her flush deepening as they moved down a hallway lined with candles, the air heavy with herbs and something primal.
The sounds grew louder—breathy moans, a soft cry, the unmistakable rhythm of intimacy, the slapping of flesh against flesh—each door a mystery Harry couldn't unravel.
His legs felt like lead, each step a battle, but Lily's presence was a steady guide, her arm around his waist, her body warm against his, her robe brushing his skin.
They entered a private treatment room, its walls lined with shelves of shimmering vials and jars, candles flickering softly in the dim light.
A cushioned table stood in the center, draped with a soft sheet, and Lily helped Harry onto it, her hands gentle but firm.
"Lie down, love, on your belly." She said, her voice soothing but laced with worry. "I'll get what we need."
Harry sank onto the table, his legs throbbing, the pain a constant reminder of his body's betrayal. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the ache, but his mind kept drifting to the sounds outside, to Clara's revealing attire, to the secrets of this place.
When he opened his eyes and turned his head, Lily was standing by the shelves, her robe completely open as the belt was tied very loosely, revealing the totality of her cleavage. Like Clara, her nipples, small and pretty, were clearly visible behind the bra while her private parts were only covered by a small triangle of underwear held by thin strings.
She caught his gaze and smiled faintly, though her eyes were troubled, and her cheeks flushed.
"I'm sorry you have to see this place," she said softly, selecting a vial of oil and returning to his side. "It's not… what I wanted for you."
Harry swallowed hard, his throat dry. "It's okay, Mum. I just… need to feel better."
Lily nodded, her expression softening as she poured the oil into her hands, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus filling the air. Her fingers were warm as they began kneading his calf, her touch skilled and deliberate.
"Breathe, Harry," she murmured, her voice a soothing cadence. "Let me take care of you."
Her hands moved with precision, her thumbs digging into the knotted muscle, coaxing it to loosen. Harry's breath hitched as another cramp flared, but Lily's touch was relentless, her fingers working through the pain. The oil's warmth spread, easing the spasms, and he exhaled shakily, the tension in his legs beginning to fade.
"Why's it so bad?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's never been like this before."
Lily's hands paused for a moment on his hamstrings, her eyes meeting his.
"I don't know, love," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Maybe it's from pushing yourself too hard, or… maybe there's something else going on. We'll figure it out."
Her fingers hesitated before she carefully pressed her hands under the small boxers he barely had the time to put on, just before the cramps hit.
After a few seconds her fingers resumed their work, massaging his hamstring now, her touch firm but careful.
Harry's mind wandered despite the pain, acutely aware of how close her hands were to his balls as his thoughts kept circling back to her job.
"Mum," he said hesitantly, "what do you really do here? I mean… I know it's a massage parlor, but… why was Clara dressed like that ?"
Lily's hands stilled again, her expression guarded.
"Harry," she said softly, "it's complicated. I do massages, yes, but… some clients want more than that. They want to feel… special, cared for in ways that go beyond just physical relief. It's all very professional, but it's not something I talk about because… well, people don't always understand."
Harry's brow furrowed.
"More than massages? Like what?"
Lily sighed, her fingers resuming their kneading.
"Like… intimacy, Harry" She whispered softly, her cheeks flushing. "Closeness, touch that's… deeper. It's what they pay for, and it's what I provide. But it's not for everyone to know."
Harry's heart raced, his mind struggling to process her words. The sounds from the other rooms took on new meaning now, and he felt a strange mix of curiosity and discomfort as an immense wave of lust overtook him and his cock hardened even more.
"So… you're saying… you do things like… what?"
Lily's smile was tight, her eyes avoiding his.
"I'm saying it's private, love. That's all you need to know for now. Let's focus on getting you better."
Harry nodded, though his mind was still buzzing with questions and excitement from the semi-answers he got. He couldn't explain why it aroused him so much to imagine what his mom did at her work, but the fact remained that he felt like he could cum at any moment now.
The pain in his legs had dulled significantly under her care, but the tension in the room lingered, a quiet hum of unspoken truths.
Lily's hands moved higher, massaging his hamstring with slow, deliberate strokes, her touch both professional and intimate. Each movement going closer and closer to his penis.
"You're doing great, love," she said, her voice low and soothing. "Just relax."
But relaxing was easier said than done. The parlor's atmosphere—the sounds, the scents, the knowledge of what went on here—kept him on edge. And yet, his mother's presence was a comfort, her touch grounding him even as it stirred something deeper.
Lily's hands stilled on Harry's leg, her fingers lingering for a moment before she drew them back. She wiped her hands on the towel at her side, her movements slower than usual.
"Alright, love," she said, her voice softer, almost uncertain. "Could you… turn onto your back for me?"
Harry's pulse quickened as he hesitated, his cock was hard and leaking so much precum that he thought it would cover the floor. He knew that if turned right now, his excitement would be more than obvious and right in front of his mother.
"Are you okay, honey ?" Lily asked concernedly as she saw that her son still didn't move.
"I am, mom, but...I am not really sure it would be a good idea for me to turn now..." He answered shamefully, averting his eyes and blushing to his roots.
"Oh..." Lily understood at once what the problem was but decided to wave it off with an awkward chuckle. "Honey, I told you, it's only natural. You can turn, I promise I won't laugh." She assured him, her motherly tone somehow making his sex harder.
He hesitated a bit more before he rolled over the massage table.
The leather creaked under him, and as he settled, his white boxers did little to hide his obvious arousal. A big bulge was proudly pointing upwards as a stain was clearly visible at the tip of cock, proof of his excitement.
His face flushed, and he fixed his gaze on the dim ceiling, trying to look everywhere but at his mother.
Lily's breath caught faintly.
She glanced at the bulge, then quickly away, her cheeks tinged with color. Her hands hovered, unsure of the course of action.
A long pause stretched between them, the parlor's distant sounds filling the silence—soft music, muffled voices. She opened her mouth, then closed it, her fingers fidgeting with the boxer's edge.
Finally, she spoke, her voice low, hesitant.
"Harry…Baby, look at me, please..." When he obeyed, she continued, pleading. "Are you hurting, love ? What is causing this ?" She pointed his bulge on the last word.
Harry was speechless, not only because of her words but because when he turned to look at her, he finally noticed her state of dress.
Her robe had slipped off one of her shoulders and most of her chest was bare. A nipple had slipped out and most of her right breast was naked.
Her opened bathrobe showed the entirety of her flat belly and the strings holding her panties were tight on her hips. The creamy expanse of white skin was hypnotizing, and he couldn't look away. Her big green eyes were filled with concern and motherly love for him while her red hair was held in a messy bun.
All in all, he had never seen a more arousing sight and his cock jumped in his boxers, something that his mother clearly didn't miss.
"Oh my..." Lily put her hand over her mouth to prevent her gasp from escaping. She finally connected the dots but still had to ask her son. "Is it me that is causing this, love ?" Her voice was desperate, and worried.
"I'm so sorry mum, I can't control it !" Harry answered, tears were welling in his eyes from the embarrassment and the frustration, he was only fifteen after all...
"Shh, shh, it's ok, baby..." Lily cooed, taking her son in her arms to comfort him.
However, by doing this, her naked right breast was now directly in contact with her son's chest and her thigh was rubbing against his sex.
"Mom, please, I need to...I need to relieve myself and you being against me is not helping." Harry cried desperately, trying without really wanting to push her off as the feeling of her body against his was almost enough to make him cum.
"Oh..." Lily gasped again as she felt her thigh being touched by something hard and she felt her skin being wetted by an unknown liquid.
She took a step back, biting her lips as she watched her son, the being she cherished the most in the world, in pain and frustrated.
A thought manifested itself in her mind, traitorous and taboo. However, the more she thought about it and the more she convinced herself.
"It's for his own good, better he discovers that with me," She told herself.
Lily's eyes flicked briefly downward, then away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She hesitated again, her hands hovering uncertainly, the distant hum of the parlor—soft music, muffled voices—filling the heavy silence.
She opened her mouth, closed it, then finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Harry… do you, umm… want help with… that?" She indicated the clear outline of his cock under his boxers with a shaky finger.
"What...do you mean, Mom ?" Harry asked, not fully trusting his voice or his ears. She couldn't be suggesting that...could she ?
"Umm..." Lily hesitated, biting her nails before exhaling. "Rather than...relieving yourself....You could...let mommy do it ?" She half-asked, her voice shaking as if she couldn't believe what she said.
Harry was stunned, speechless. His mouth was opening and closing without words while his cock was jumping like it had a mind of its own in his boxers.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Lily felt a small smile forming at her son's expression and she tried to alleviate the pressure.
"As you probably understood, it's my job to do it, sweetie and I'm used to that. I promise you will like it." Her voice was encouraging, trying to be as non-judgmental as possible.
Harry only felt numb as she confirmed what he had guessed since they arrived at the parlor and the last resistance he had, as weak as it was, faded away.
"O-o-okay, mom..." He stammered, nervous. "Do I need to do something ?"
"No, love, let mommy handle it...Just relax." Lily's voice was soft and sultry as she approached her son again.
He watched her with wide eyes, trying not look at her tits, which Lily instantly picked up.
"I don't mind, honey." She assured him gently, "You can look as much as you want."
Harry nearly ejaculated from the words his mother said and his cock jumped again, eliciting a giggle from the beautiful redhead in front of him.
"I think someone wants attention..." Lily said, laughing softly. "Can I ?" She indicated his boxers with her hands.
Harry was too stunned to speak and only opted for a single, shaky nod as his eyes tracked every movement she made. From the deftness of her hands to the wobbling of the flesh on her chest.
Lily took off his boxers with consummate ease and Harry, for the second time in a day, found himself naked and with a cock harder than steel in front of his mom. The only difference was that this time, she intended to touch it.
"What are you going to do, Mom ?" Harry asked, voice trembling from excitement and arousal.
"Whatever you want, love." She answered sultrily, a shiver of excitement going through her body from hearing her son calling her 'mom' with his cock out and ready. "Tell me what you wish."
"Could...could you...touch my balls ?" He pleaded nervously, still watching her like a hawk.
"Of course, baby, you want me to feel how full they are ?" Lily asked, nearly purring as she stared at her son's cock. It was bigger than she expected, nearly 5 inches long, which was quite good for a boy of fifteen.
She extended her hand before placing it on her son's testicles, to feel how full they were. She could feel the sperm ready to explode under the crumpled skin.
Lily then began kneading his balls, enjoying the little moans he let out as she effectively massaged her grandchildren.
"Do you like that, honey ? Do you want mommy to do anything else ? She asked, her hand still on his balls.
"Touch my cock, please mom...Put your hand on it." Harry nearly cried from arousal, his tip was continuously leaking precum and he was on the edge of the explosion.
"Alright, honey. Whatever you want." Lily answered sultrily before she placed her hand on her son's penis.
A few seconds later, however, she found herself blinking in bafflement as Harry came with a groan as soon as her hand landed on his cock.
He ejaculated four spurts of sperm while her hand held his sex before lying down, exhausted.
"Wow, look at that !" Lily giggled, marveling at how much cum now covered her son's stomach. Her hand was still on his cock, slowly pumping the last drops. "You really needed that, didn't you, honey ?"
Harry groaned, partly from the pleasure he took from cumming but mostly because of the fact that he came so early that he couldn't enjoy the feel of his mom's hand on his cock.
"Sorry mom, I didn't mean to make a mess..." He apologized quietly, feeling a bit of shame from his poor performance.
Lily giggled again.
"You don't have to be sorry, love." She then leveled her tender motherly look at him again, which contrasted quite a lot with the fact that she was still holding his cock. "It's natural and flattering to me. I will clean you up and we can go home."
She then stood up and went to the back of the room to get a few pieces of tissue. However, as she walked, Harry noticed her robe riding up her back and her ass being exposed again.
As he had guessed before, she wore a thong again. Not a bikini, a bit more covering but still incredibly sexy and attractive. The black string separating her plump white ass cheeks somehow made them look more inviting as they rolled and swayed with her walk.
Harry couldn't look away and his cock, in the process of softening, was now back to full hardness and ready to go again.
When Lily turned away and noticed the fact that her son's cock was back to full mast, she sent him a small smile, incredibly sultry as she approached again, the small pieces of tissues forgotten.
"Well, well, well," she purred, putting her hands on his legs and going up to his crotch. "It seems you really like my arse..."
"Sorry, mom" Harry had the feeling he had said these words a thousand times by now, and he blushed again. "We can still go home, if you want." He said as he tried to stand up but his mother put her hand on his chest to stop him.
"Don't be sorry, love. I've always liked a challenge." Lily answered with a hungry glint in her eyes as she held his cock again.