A/N: This story was inspired by a trip to the National Gallery in London and my own smutty mind. The art discussed is real and one of my personal favourites, I'm posting a link to a photo of the painting on my profile if anyone is interested. Enjoy and please review!
For the Love of Art
"Isn't it just breathtaking, Ron? Honthorst has a way of making things come to life, wouldn't you say?" A dazed Hermione asked.
"Hon-who?" replied the bewildered redhead.
"Gerrit van Honthorst. The painter? I've only been talking about him for the last twenty minutes. Haven't you been listening at all?"
"Sorry love, this just doesn't interest me. Give me quidditch any day."
"Quidditch, quidditch, quidditch. That's all you and Harry ever talk about. I'm trying to enrich our lives and all you can think about is quidditch! And I cannot believe you haven't been to The National Gallery before, it's free for Merlin's sakes!"
"Ummmm… sorry?"
"Stop apologizing and focus then. This is the Saint Sebastian. He was a Roman soldier who eventually became a martyr. It's a fascinating story really."
"How'd he get all those arrows in him?" asked the man curiously, attempting to placate his girlfriend.
"Target practice," she stated bluntly. Ron whistled, clearly impressed.
"And I thought quidditch was rough."
"Enough with the quidditch! Exclaimed the witch. This drew more than a few questioning looks from nearby muggles, so she tugged on her boyfriend's hand until they found shelter in a nearby bathroom. After charming the door for maximum privacy she continued.
"We are in one of the greatest museums of this nation and all you can talk about is quidditch? Is that all you men think about?"
"Well it's not all we think about," he protested. "I can think of at least one other thing all men think about." The redhead gave the witch a cheeky wink which left her scrambling for words. Finally she found one.
"No." But it was too late. His mouth crashed onto hers and after a moment of futile protest she gave in. His deft fingers unbuttoned her silk blouse, revealing her lacy black bra. His skilled mouth suckled a sensitive point below her ear, earning him a moan. The man backed her up against a wall and flicked a finger over her pebbled nipples through the lace. A low chuckle escaped his throat as he felt her being to reach for his belt buckle. "Not yet love."
"Please," she whispered hoarsely. His mouth kissed a trail from her ear down her jaw line, and between her heaving mounds. Ron quickly unclasped her bra and latched onto her left nipple, sucking and biting gently. Hermione bucked her hips towards him in wild abandon; he took this as his cue to release her from the confines of her skirt as well, leaving her in nothing but black lace knickers. The redhead inserted one, then two long digits into her dripping core, pumping her roughly until she was on the brink of release. "Please, take me!" Begged the brunette witch.
"With pleasure," he replied. Hermione's fingers flew to release his member, which by now was straining painfully against his trousers. Finding the manual, muggle method too slow for her purposes the clever witch cast a quick divesto spell, leaving them both more than ready.
With one last look deep into each others eyes Ron thrust into her until he could go no farther. He pulled back and plunged into her again and again as she began to meet his thrusts with equal intensity. Pants and moans filled the tiled room. Hands and mouths were flying everywhere. Time stood still and all that existed in that moment was the two lovers. Then Hermione's walls began to contract around his member and she surrendered completely to her orgasm. Seeing her sent Ron over the edge and he came, spurting his hot seed deep within her. They both spent the next few moments riding the waves of their orgasms and when they were through the young couple rested heavily against the cool wall.
The redhead brushed a glossy curl out of his lovers face and leaned in to kiss her once more. They dressed quickly and, after deeming themselves presentable, attempted to stealthily leave the bathroom. This task was made impossible by the angry muggles outside the door, waiting in an exorbitantly long line for the bathroom. The couple glanced at each other once before taking off running for the front door, laughing and dodging glares the whole way.