One Big Horny Weasley Family- Chapter 01 The Morning After

This is a work of fan fiction. All characters and locations are the property of their rightful owners. I own the story line.

Chapter 1- The Morning After

Ron looked at himself in the mirror and groaned; he looked as bad as his hangover felt. His eyes were bloodshot, it looked as if he had tried to cut his own hair, and he was wearing full facial make-up that was smeared from sleeping in it. He opened the medicine cabinet looking for a bottle of Madam Rosmerta’s Morning-After Medicine, unfortunately there was none. He shook his head as he looked in the mirror again, “Never again, never, ever again. Not if I live to be older than Dumbledore am I ever doing that again.”

He was referring to the previous night’s party at Fred and George’s. It had been a couples-only party. The only rules were that you had to have a date and you had to be of legal drinking age. He had, of course, gone with Hermione. They had been married for a few years now, but last night was the first time that they had been to a really wild party since their newly-wed days. He rummaged through the cabinet and finally found a jar of Hermione’s make-up remover. After liberal use, he was finally able to look at himself in the mirror again. He was trying to remember how the make-up had gotten there in the first place. Then he remembered; Harry had dared him to let Lavender make him over. After drinking three George Thorogoods in an hour, who was he to refuse his best friend’s request? “Never, ever, ever, again.” He leaned his head against the mirror, thankful for its cool surface.

He shuffled back down the hall to his room. Hermione was half out of the covers, wearing an official pair of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes Glow-in-the-Dark Boxer Shorts. He stopped and scratched his head, he didn’t own a pair of those, and neither did Hermione. So where did she get them? More importantly, how had she ended up in them? He sat down on the edge of the bed and thought about it, “Oh, yeah,” he nodded, remembering that Angelina had dared Fred and Hermione to go upstairs and trade underwear. He decided then that Hermione looked better in boxers than Fred did in a red thong. Panicking, he looked down and was relieved to see he was wearing his own underwear. He was definitely never drinking that much again. Hermione probably shouldn’t drink like that again either.

“Oh good, you’re back.” His wife was just way too chipper this morning.

“Morning sweetie.” He reached over and gave her butt an affectionate pat. “I didn’t do anything stupid, like parade around in your knickers last night, did I?” He was almost afraid of the answer as he felt his wife lean into his back and hug him.

“No, that would have been Fred. You,” she said as she walked her fingers up his back, “got to show everyone the Amazing Bouncing Penis.” Ron buried his face in his hands. The Amazing Bouncing Penis was a discovery of Hermione’s during their honeymoon. After a day and a half in bed, Ron’s body was just worn out; however, the mind and the wife were both willing. So, as Hermione nibbled on his ear and told him all the things she wanted to do to him, he had contracted some muscles and forced blood into his groin. The combination of incoming blood and muscle contractions had caused his semi-erect penis to ‘bounce.’ Not for all the gold in Gringotts was ever getting that drunk in mixed company again.

Hermione tugged on his shoulders as she lay back down. “Honey, come up here and lay down. I want you to see something.”

Ron turned around and crawled across the bed. She slapped an open magazine down on his pillow. “Was this what you had in mind?” There in front of him was a picture of three people engaged in rather carnal activity. It was a two page shot of a man screwing the maid from behind while the maid had her face buried between another woman’s legs. Ron blinked several times, not fully comprehending how he had gotten into this situation. Finally, memory kicked in and he groaned at his own behavior:

“Ron, truth or dare?” Katie Bell asked.

“Truth,” he answered, knocking back another shot of scotch. Harry had just performed ‘I’m a Little Tea Pot’ in his underwear, and Ron didn’t want to do something that embarrassing.

“What’s the one thing you want to see, that you know you’ll never get to see?”

Ron was pretty sure that if he hadn’t been several shots into that bottle of scotch he would have said something like ‘a crumple-horned snorkack.’ However, the liquor had sabotaged his brain-to-mouth filter and the risqué nature of the questions, answers, and dares had him fixated on sex. “My lovely wife with her arse in the air and her face in another woman’s quim.”

There was much whooping and hollering at that answer. Hermione pulled her shirt over her head to cover her face, which exposed her red lace bra to everyone.

“Woohoo, two for the price of one,” shouted Lee Jordan.

A spontaneous bra-judging contest broke out at that point. Ginny won with a magical number. It had clown faces over each boob that opened their mouths to expose her nipples when they got hard.

“Yeah, something like that.” He was amazed that she didn’t sound mad. As he dared a glance at her face, she didn’t even look mad. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I shouldn’t have said that. You know that-” She silenced him with a kiss.

“It’s okay, it was just a game, and I know you love me.” She leaned over and kissed him again.

“Where did you get this, anyway?”

“Fred’s private collection. It didn’t take us that long to change underwear.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No. I am a little shocked. I didn’t know you had those kind of fantasies.”

“I think every man has that fantasy.