Chapter Four

George couldn't help it. He didn't mean to. But when he glanced up, he found Hermione starting at him, her brown eyes staring into his blue ones.

He had broken another rule: don't look at her.

Damn! He looked down at his own cards again.

Hermione had been at the Burrow for a week already. He had been awake when she had arrived the first night. He had been in his boxers trying to get a cup or milk when he had seen her doing the same. The only thing was in the light, it had looked like she was in just a shirt her legs bare. By the time he had realized she was wearing shorts, he had gone back to bed sweating profusely. Since then, he tried to avoid her.

It wasn't as if he couldn't trust himself around her; it was just that after being around her and becoming friends with one another he could imagine her feeling the same. But in the end, the game of willpower he had was weakening. He had already broken a rule: he had contact with her.

Worse than that: he had challenged her to a game of strip poker.

He glanced at her again; her lips were holding a card with the stain of her lip gloss on the corner. Her fingers were holding the rest of her hand and already there was a group of cards on the table along with some clothes: her earrings, his cap, a ring, a watch, socks, and sandals. He glanced at her.

"What're you holding?" He asked.

"Not much." She took off a bracelet she was wearing and placed in on his bed. As he looked down, there was nothing left for her to get rid of.

Neither did he.

So now were getting to the fun part.

They both kept expelling cards and grabbing more to the point that they all had to be collected again. As they continued, he kept looking at her nervously. Hermione was wearing a short, sleeveless pink dress and one flip-flop on her foot. As he reveled at her top, he could see the small indents of her nipples and her tummy. And as she bent over to retrieve a card, his eyes revealed in her skin as her hem came up over her thighs and her chest revealed her skin. He yearned to reach up and stroke all of her. He showed his cards and she did the same: she lost.

She stood up faced Fred in a businesslike manner. Placing the cards facedown, she reached up to the top-half of her dress. In the style of a Muggle brand called Juicy Couture, it was scrunched up and ruffled. As she pinched the ends, she pulled it slowly down her torso. George perked up a bit; she was teasing him as it slowly crossed her small, pink nipples and down her stomach until finally stopping at her waist. She sat down in her seat and grabbed her cards making no effort to make herself decent.

At the next hand, he lost. He tried to do the same but Hermione's eyes were watching him in curiosity. His hands quickly pulled off his shirt and he sat down, only to fold and lose again. This time, he pulled at the string to his pants and loosened the elastic. He pulled them down and let them hit the floor until he was caught in his briefs with a bit a bugle in the middle. He covered himself, wishing that he had worn boxers. Though dancing on the way down, he was determined to win. This time the twin was lucky and Hermione was the loser.

Once again she stood up looking at George as if she was preparing to take off her the rest of her dress. She pulled down the fabric over her thighs and legs and, letting it drop down the floor, she took to her seat watching the redhead look at her in her underwear, that fateful night running rampant in his mind.

This is problem. I mean, yeah, she's naked but somehow this is sick and wrong. In my mind, there was a play of French wine, bread, and cheese…But this—

He was looking at her without abandon. She had once again played her hand and lost. George could feel himself reeling with desire; he covered his hand and stood up and she followed, her curvaceous body driving him mad. As they looked at each other, they put the cards down and stood up, staring at each other's bodes, the tinge of skin, and their birthmarks. Their fingers reached up to elastic bands and they pulled them down to the floor, not bothering to cover each other up. Their hands explored until they finally kissed, their bodies close to one another.

George felt himself grow warm with arousal; all the apprehension he had felt was gone and was replaced by passion. He bent downward and sucked and teased her breasts, biting playfully as Hermione's chestnut-hair came over his back. Continuing down, lips came over the girl's stomach and belly button and his hands stroked her thighs and her butt as she ran her fingers roughly through his dreadlocks. His penis began to rise and rub up and down between her smooth legs. As she gasped in pleasure, her body began to get warm. The boy came to her crotch and began to kiss her lips.

"Geor—" Hermione sighed, obviously feeling the pleasure George had wanted her to. His tongue licked her crevice going over her skin slowly starting slowly but applying pressure with every kiss. He pulled her away and stood up again. Hermione continued on the same trail until she reached his arousal kissing his tip at first but then his slit. His body got warm; she wasn't even sucking it, but the rhythm made himself quiver and want her more; he could almost feel himself cumming between her pink lips. But the girl quickly stood up and bent over spreading her thighs and showing her slit. He came behind her.

George grabbed at her hips and positioned himself. Slowly he pulled her tight skin open and brought his member insider her getting deeper and deeper as he felt her warm wash over him. Hermione's walls adjusted as he slowly moved up and down and in and out. He was still getting bigger insider her; she was starting to moan and sigh, tears coming from her eyes. At hearing his name, he began to climax early and sped up his face. Sweat ran down his body.

Hermione began to climax and grip the items on the table as she released her pleasure. As they felt each other's ecstasy in the light of day, George adjusted his eyes as the sun hit his face.

He was still eating breakfast, his stack of cards beside him. Hermione was reading one of her textbooks, still as pretty as that faithful night.

"Hey, you wanna play?" George brought his deck invitingly.

"No, thanks." Hermione replied as she flipped the page of her textbook.