BETA READ by Kreacher's Peepers and Squibstress
Minerva McGonagall switched her tail lazily. No one would know from just looking at her that she was actually, deep inside, the very embodiment of impatience itself. She hadn't seen her husband in weeks and had only heard from him a couple of times in that period through letters delivered by all sorts of birds – most of them not even owls. Each time, he had stressed the fact that she could not send anything to him in return, always hoping for her wellbeing. Albus never enclosed where he was, either. Minerva knew this was safer, considering the delicacy of the matters Albus had managed to get himself involved in. She often disliked his heroic behavior, yet at the same time… Minerva loved him for that, too – even more: she adored the man.
She had missed him very much, of course, but there were quite a lot of mixed emotions. She was very glad that she would soon see her husband again and that he was coming home, but otherwise… his Patronus – and she had been very surprised to see that phoenix Patronus, given that he only ever sent little notes otherwise – had carried the news of the deaths of two ex-pupils of hers, two of her own Gryffindors. It was all so very muddled. double.
At least their little boy had survived, although she had no idea how much longer he would if left with these… Muggles. She had left the castle upon receiving Albus' message, had watched them all day while waiting for night to fall and her husband to arrive, and for Hagrid to deliver Harry. Thus far, she hadn't noticed anything magical about the family at all… and she had to admit that worried her a bit. She had seen the little boy a couple of times – the first time only a few hours after his birth. Little Harry had always shown some signs of magic – subtle, but there nonetheless.
She jumped agilely onto the sill of the Dursleys' house at Number Four, Privet Drive and sat. The stone felt cold against her paws and behind. She really longed to see her husband again. Shifting her paws, she tried to keep warm, letting her yellow-green eyes fall shut. She tried to recall happy memories – anything not to focus upon the cold, the deaths of her pupils, or the odious Muggles through the window. Her mind wandered to a memory of herself and Albus, one from the night prior to his departure. She had sighed upon hearing about his leaving but had not really been surprised.
She bent down to kiss him once more, her hips moving gently and slowly in the moment, matching the languid pace of their lips, their tongues… She felt his hands move from her lower back down to her buttocks, encouraging her to move faster upon him. However, she ignored his efforts to hasten her movements for the time being. As the depth of their kiss reduced for a moment or two due to lack of breath, she smiled against his lips. Oh, she knew how frustrating this could be. He had done it a couple of times to her, too. It didn't mean she didn't want to fuck him senseless, like she had never doubted he wanted to fuck her badly as well at those times. Somehow, holding back and teasing him made the climax that much more rewarding.
As he desperately began to claw at his wife's curvy buttocks, Minerva squeezed her internal muscles hard, laughing at the soft moan that left his lips. She gently brushed his long beard aside, lowering her lips to his torso one last time before sitting a little more upright, as her hands moved to hold on to the headboard. She naturally let her head drop down between her arms to look at the man beneath her, whom she intended to fuck very hard and very thoroughly. His blue eyes were wide open, and he was panting with anticipation. He knew why she was holding on to the headboard. Those few times she had done so, he had always been left more than satisfied…
"You're incorrigible for your old age, Albus Dumbledore," she teased, letting her teal green eyes fall shut as she gradually began moving faster, beginning to feel his cock sliding within her sheath back and forth. It didn't take long for the headboard to begin creaking along with her every movement, as each time she moved, she pulled with all she had and then threw the whole of her weight forward once again. Minerva had waited long enough. "You… should be glad that I rather l-like fucking you like this, my love," she said, sounding slightly breathless, her traditional Scottish lilt seeping noticeably into her speech again. He groaned as the dirty language left her mouth, that and the sensation of her hot, wet warmth encircling his length driving him closer to the height of passion.
The tell-tale rhythmic thud of the headboard against the wall and both partners' panting increased as Minerva moved atop him faster. "Minerva!" he gasped, nails digging mercilessly into her milky white buttocks.
One of her trembling hands slid down to where their bodies were joined together as the familiar tingling, tightening sensation at her clit announced itself, it begging to be touched, and yet she couldn't bear to lose the feeling of her husband's nails digging deeper into her skin. Minerva threw her head back, her fingers sliding between her folds and beginning to rub in time with his hard dick sliding back and forth inside her. She could see lights flash behind her closed eyelids at the impending overload of sensation, and she knew that she wouldn't last very much longer. Her mouth was wide open to enable her to breathe as she panted, as if she had already raced for miles.
"Albus! Togeth–" she began, just as his pelvis bucked up into her forcefully, followed by some minor, spasmodic thrusts. She tried to tell Albus she was going to come soon, but he got there first. The familiar, hot pressure which she felt inside her as Albus ejaculated hard drove her over the edge right away, too. Her head fell forward, her sweaty body jerking a couple more times while coming down from its high.
It had broken her heart, just leaving the boy there. Yet her heart had swelled upon seeing her husband again, too. She was glad to be at Hogwarts with Albus, less than two hours later.
She had missed him, no doubt about it. Yet, it felt somewhat strange to have him there beside her again. She couldn't really put the feeling into words. Her hands shook slightly upon pouring the tea. She was relieved when she could lower the pot again, certain that she would have dropped it had she held on to it for much longer. Minerva leant against the marble counter of their private little kitchen, but it only made things worse… She recalled him pushing her roughly against the cupboards, and– No.
Minerva McGonagall was a sexual woman. She loved Albus Dumbledore, and she loved making love. She therefore loved making love to Albus Dumbledore. It did happen that some days would pass by without her doing so, though. It always left her wanton and just… licentious… by the time they were able to again, no matter what nonsensical reason had kept them, whether it was lack of time or something else.
It had been several weeks now. She felt rather guilty for thinking about that when Albus had only just returned to her, when two of her own Gryffindors had died, and when a little boy, born to be magical, had been dumped with the worst Muggles she had ever had the misfortune to meet. Nonetheless, his expression then had reminded her so much of how he had looked that first time, when he had returned from war with Grindelwald. It had been the first time that
their feelings had come to the surface, but it had long been established that they loved each other. Neither of them ever regretted the night that followed, and neither of them thought of it as moving too fast. It had only felt… right.
This line of thinking definitely wasn't helping her, though. She could feel her skin tingle as she closed her eyes, a shiver running down her spine. She could feel her nipples strain uncomfortably against her bra, but at the same time, it aroused her more. She could feel her thighs clench involuntarily and the triangle in between begged to be touched, and it pounded steadily to convince her of it. Her cheeks burned red. Oh yes, Minerva McGonagall suffered from what were sometimes called "hot flashes". The mere thought of feeling him once more had her lightheaded with longing, biting down on her bottom lip to stop a moan from being spilled. She mentally cursed herself. These hot flashes weren't even a little amusing anymore.
As she mentally cursed herself, she didn't notice her husband entering the kitchen behind her, wondering what was keeping her, since she had said she would return in a flash with some tea. He was about to ask what the matter was when he caught sight of Minerva's unusually flushed cheeks and the way in which sweat pearled on her forehead, while her hands shook against the counter. He knew what was going through her mind right now, but he also knew what she needed. While all that had happened to the Potters and the rest of the Wizarding world was very sad and still ran through his head almost constantly, he thought he somehow might need the affirmation as well: the affirmation of feeling her against him, feeling the love of her. The reassurance that she was still in one piece.
He could not watch any longer. Instead, his hands moved to Minerva's hips, and he greedily began to kiss his wife's exposed neck. One hand moved down, cupping her, already making it virtually impossible for her to remain upright. "Alb–" she managed, sighing contentedly.
How they ever managed to make it to their bedroom was a mystery to both Albus and Minerva later.
"Oh, Merlin… so good," Minerva murmured, and she spread her legs wider. She usually thought it tickled when Albus pleased her with his mouth like this. That's why he didn't do it very often. Truth to be told, she actually quite liked it… but never as much as feeling him deep inside, moving slowly, moving faster, maybe gentle or hard…
When she was needy like this, she could bear the ticklishness better. He liked to do this to get her even wetter prior to sliding into her. When he had taken off her knickers, he had noticed they were quite wet already, though. That wasn't the issue, if there ever was one to begin with. He simply liked to tease her to the edge of insanity first. One time when he had teased her like that, she had lost consciousness purely from the overload of pleasure he had caused within her. He didn't reckon she had minded, though.
"Ah! Oh, oh Albus…" she sounded like she had had a little bit too much, but that's what Albus could do to her sometimes – especially if she had suffered from another hot flash. He loved the effect. He loved how he knew what she looked like now, with the top of her dress undone to reveal more than a little cleavage, her head thrown back and soft moans and sighs falling from those thin lips, her hands guiding his head through the fabric of her dark robes as Albus bobbed up and down.
They had always kept a nice balance, Minerva dominating at times, Albus at others, alternately gentle and rough, relaxed and frenzied… and they both liked it that way. He would pull away instinctively right on time to stop her from tipping over the edge too soon. He would penetrate her, fuck her… then make her come twice as hard – or maybe, he wouldn't. Their lovemaking was a fine balance between familiarity and surprise. She couldn't even begin to imagine this ever coming to an end, reaching a point where she wasn't interested in making love to him or Albus in making love to her anymore.
Although bothersome when he wasn't with her, she happily took those "annoying" hot flashes on with it.
Their lovemaking didn't resolve the feeling of sadness over the news of the Potters, nor her worry over their only son. Albus at her side once more made her feel like she could take on the whole of the world, though – like whatever might come next would be manageable if they were just together.