Private for Aunt Muriel...
There were days when George was so busy that he barely had time to think, and days when he couldn't find anything to do but think. He wasn't sure which he'd rather have, but knew, when those days came, that he needed something to take his mind off the boring emptiness of being bored.
On those days, he headed out. Out to Aunt Muriel's, that was. She'd gone from being an overbearing old hag to being something of a kindred spirit, full of sarcastic humour and wit, oddly caring and interesting, genuinely pleasant to be around.
Moreso that he would ever have told anyone.
It had been a while since the first accident with the Wheezes, the fateful afternoon he'd taken some toffee that enhanced desire to the point that he'd been attracted to the first female form he'd seen. Beyond attracted. And a while since he'd given her Toddler Tonic, making her young and luscious, and amazingly flexible...
Today though, brought none of those things. No Wheeze gone wrong, or something to try, just a bored George and hot day and an empty bedsit, none of which went well with the others. It wasn't Tuesday, so there wasn't dinner planned, but he knew her schedule for scheduled things as well as she did, and he knew she'd be gone another hour at least. A pinch of green powder had him stepping through her Floo, and he brushed himself off on the hearth.
He loved the smell of her place. Spicy and lush, a hint of something flowery, and something as delicate as old paper. George lingered by the mantel, browsing the photos there, then headed through to her room. Her bed was neatly made as always; the elf took exemplary care of the place. The elf also knew George, and tended to avoid him, which was fine.
George perched on the edge of the bed, then pushed off his shoes. He wasn't planning on going home anytime soon; might as well get comfortable. His fingers worked his jeans open, then off, and his shirt followed. He was hot and the room was cool and the bed was soft, and he stretched out lazily, breathing in the scent of her off the pillows. God, he loved how she smelled...
A hand slid into his boxers and cupped his erection, rubbing absently. Stroking and tugging. No rush, but might as well pass the time while he enjoyed the cool dim and the scent of her... After a few minutes he pushed his shorts down, kicking them off and stretching out a bit more, one arm tucked under the pillow behind his head as the other returned to the slow, lazy stroking of his cock.