Post-Visit: Imaginings at Midnight
Her handsome, nerdy-and-irresistibly-sexy Ron was under her, drawing her closer to his manhood until nothing lay between them. She rocked back and forth, an exquisitely carnal act of hope, love, and pure desire, stroking his arms, his elbows, and nuzzling his most sensitive inner area of his neck. He grabbed her thighs so forcefully she gasped—was it from pain or sheer pleasure? Perhaps both. Probably both.
She leaned forward, breasts lightly swaying of their own accord, as she drew a deep kiss and he swept a curly lock of hair from her freckled cheek. She gasped as he drew a finger into her, increasing his pace. She imagined for a moment what it would be like if, instead of his finger, it was his cock, thrusting into her. She could sense herself growing wetter, as he removed his finger from within her, and drew it into her wanting mouth. She accepted, biting ever-so-slightly, as she French-kissed her essence with her vanilla-scented lips.
Hermione moaned softly, grinding her petite hips into the sheathed feathers, picking up her pace, as the minutes drew further and further together, until—all at once—she gasped and awoke from her climax.
It was midnight, and Hermione could feel the downy bedsheets crumple together where her heat lay beneath.
Damn it, another wet dream.
After graduation from Hogwarts, Hermione found herself at a muggle university in the UK doing postgraduate studies, and Ron was transferred to Switzerland in the Ministry of Magic's Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department with his father (this time, magicked cuckoo clocks had attacked young lying muggles, turning them into Pinocchio look-alikes). The plethora of magicked cuckoo clocks, together with a population predisposed to such childish behaviour made matters even more urgent.
Hermione had just returned from visiting Ron in his flat in Zurich, but dammit, she was so horny…and there was nothing they could do about it until his next vacation—in two month's time.