Hogwarts was quiet. The library was quiet. Hermione was quiet. Ron was not.
"How much longer?" he moaned.
"Just a few minutes now," Hermione murmured, not even bothering to chastise him for his loud voice.
"That's what you said last time," Ron accused. "And that was half an hour ago."
"I'm almost done, Ron, be patient!"
He sighed and slumped in his chair. This was the last time he accompanied Hermione to her studying sessions ever again, he vowed.
Idly, Ron began picking up her things at random, to kill the excessive time—which absolutely refused to die. He absentmindedly fingered her ruler, rubbing the depressions the numbers and the tick marks made. His mind drifted, his hands quickened, the grainy wood grew warm. He'd seen those pictures in Dean and Seamus's magazines, those girls. An idea began to form.
"Hey, Hermione," he began.
She looked up briefly. "What?"
"Would you do me a favor?"
An eyebrow rose up. "What is it?"
Ron cleared his throat. "Would you…come here?"
The look of bemusement she wore changed into one of irritation. "Ronald, now is not the time."
"Just humor me," he begged.
"Oh all right." She sighed, getting up and stretching. "What do you need?"
He closed his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts. "Lay—lay across my lap."
"What?"
"Lay across my lap," he repeated with more confidence.
"Er…okay. Like this?"
"No, other way. Yeah, like that." His slightly sweaty hands still clutched the ruler.
"And why, might I ask, do you need me to be sprawled all over you?"
He discreetly wiped his wet palms on the rug beneath him. Summoning all his courage, he brought one hand up to her nice, firm bum, cupping it. She froze. He kept working her buttocks, massaging them, squeezing them. She made no protest, but neither did she relax. Ron's fingers crept under the hem of her skirt.
"Ron?" she asked, voice quivering. Not with tension, no, but with something else. He didn't reply, but pulled the thin fabric farther up, revealing her shapely thighs and her round rear.
A tiny black thong wrapped around her waist, and her womanhood. Ron brought the ruler up, and hit the flesh gently, then with more force. Her hands clenched. Ron spanked her again, a sharp, stringing blow. Hermione gasped. The skin flushed red.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked anxiously, rubbing the pink spot.
She shook her head wildly. "No, no! Keep on going!"
He nodded and pulled the skirt off entirely. Hermione took off her sweater, then her shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra, but a small band of cotton that ran around her torso hid her treasures from him. Her nipples hardened instantly in response to the cool air, and she blushed virginally.
Ron took his time drinking her in. Slender legs led to a flat stomach, which was a stark contrast to her curvaceous chest. Her breasts were big, bigger than what her outward demeanor would suggest. A strand of hair fell into her eyes attractively. She felt his eyes on her body, and her blush deepened.
Hesitantly, she straddled his lap with the uncertainty of any girl during her first time. Not that he was experienced either, mind. This was the closest thing to a shag he had ever had. They were both awkward, her more than him, because he was still clothed. He made to pull off his shirt, but she stopped him, moving closer. His crotch hardened, and without success he tried to command it to lie flat. She giggled, digging her ass deeper, pressing her chest to his.
"This is great," she confessed. "I was wondering when you'd make a move, actually."
He smiled at her. "And in the library too, no less."
"Mmm," she agreed, peering shyly up at him. "So, er, d'you want to…"
Ron interrupted her with a crushing kiss. Hermione answered with equal enthusiasm, knocking him flat on the rug. His hands, unnoticed by her, slipped from the nape of her neck down her back. When she pulled away, she found herself completely uncovered, the white strip discarded next to him.
"You little sneak!" she gasped, laughing. "Oh no—wait."
She scrambled up, tits bouncing, and grabbed her wand. After a whispered 'Muffliato', Hermione returned to Ron, who was watching her with a bright fire in his eyes.
"Shall we begin?" he asked.
"Spank me again," she told him. He obliged, her screams turning him on more than ever.
"God, yes, Ron!" she hissed with pleasure, back arching in anticipation. The ruler smacked down front and center, leaving a mark. "Is that all you got?"
Ron growled, abandoning the ruler and settled for a slap from his own hand. The resulting cry nearly burst his fly. While Hermione lay there, panting, he stripped off his trousers. She straddled him again, allowing him to grab her perfect, round ass and tear off her thong. A torrent of warm juices rushed down her thighs, dripping onto him and wetting his maroon underpants. Ron moaned, half with pleasure, half with pain, and threw off his shirt along with the last of his clothes. They were now both naked, each watching the other with undisguised hunger.
She got down on all fours, waiting. Her ass was on fire. Sweat trickled down her breasts, running over the erect nipples and dripping onto the rug. Ron grabbed her waist roughly and entered her. She clenched around his cock, crying as she lost her virginity. He thrust in again, and again. Blood poured out. An earsplitting scream from Hermione made him pause.
"Ron…" she croaked. "Ron…it hurts…"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, gathering her limp body in his arms. "I'm sorry, darling."
A small whimper escaped her. Droplets of blood coated the fine hairs on her pussy. Ron hugged her fragile form to him, rocking back and forth gently. Her breasts heaved with each breath, and he fought down the urge to suck them. There will be plenty of time later for that.
Finally, she opened her eyes again. Ron let out a sigh of relief.
"Are you all right?" he asked, softly kissing her.
"I'm fine," she breathed. Tired brown eyes gazed up at him. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."
"Me too," he said. "You're beautiful, Mione."
She smiled. "I love you, Ron."
"I love you too."
Author's Note: Ah, first times are always painful. Poor Ron, he didn't even get to cum. Oh well.
Tammy