Charlie's bedroom was only marginally bigger than hers, but, she noted happily, his bed was rather enormous and comfy-looking.

Two lamps were on a bit bright. Hermione could practically see the cellulite on her thighs through her jeans.

"Dim lighting," she reminded him firmly. He gave her a half smile, took out his wand and cast down the lamps until there was the lowest of glows. She nodded and promptly threw off her sweater.

Charlie stood frozen for a bit, like he didn't know what to do. She flung her bra off next, wondering if it would be too un-sexy to bark at him to get bloody naked now, already. Maybe adding please at the end would help?

He stared at her breasts as she pulled her belt off. She knew they were jiggling in an unappealing manner, but he didn't look put off at all. In fact, as though enchanted, he took several steps closer to her, eyes on her chest the whole while.

She reached for the button of her jeans when his large hands edged in the way, drawing the line of her zipper down. "Isn't undressing one another a necessary part of sex?" he asked.

Not really, not according to Hermione's definition, but somehow, his hands on her hips made her unable to speak. Instead, she swallowed and nodded as he lowered himself along with her jeans, on his knees by the time she'd kicked them off, his face at her hips. He leaned and ran his lips over the curve of her lower belly and she shivered. He spent some time kissing each of her hips, his hands gliding over her thighs and up, up, to fondle her breasts. She watched, her breath heaving, smirking when he looked up and winked.

Hermione couldn't believe how wet she was already. This has got to be a bloody record for me, she thought. She wondered why getting turned on was more on the easy side this go. Was is because there were no relationship-driven expectations? Or maybe it was that Charlie looked like literal sex on a broom? Fuck, he was pulling down her knickers now. Certainly he'd see how aroused she was.

"No oral." She made her voice firm, watching as he tossed her knickers somewhere behind him. She knew it wasn't sexy to say, but he was still on his knees in front of her, after all.

"You said it was okay if-"

"If it were necessary, Charlie. If I'm begging for it, essentially."

"One of your more silly rules, in my opinion." He smiled at her but she frowned in return. She really was sensitive and serious about this, couldn't he see that?

But then he slid a finger along the slit of her pussy and her knees nearly gave out. "You're very wet, Hermione, do you know that?" He stared up at her as his calloused fingers drew slow, excruciating circles along her clitoris. "Do you know how bad I want to eat you out right now?"

Fuck. She already regretted that silly, stupid rule. But he stood up before she could shove her crotch in his mouth. "How would you like me?" he asked, gesturing to his body.

Remembering what he said about undressing, she pushed up his shirt, and when it was on the floor, she ran her fingers over the soft hair of his chest and down the firm lines of his abs. Christ, she thought. These weren't just washboard-variety abs. They were pack-up, take-to-the-beach and ride-the-waves-on abs. Or put-hinges-on and make-a-bloody-hardwood-door-abs. Or ice-cream-churner and lick-the-bottom-of-the-bowl- okay, that one made no sense, but still. These were beautiful abs.

She glanced up to find an amused expression on his face. Hermione realized she'd been fondling his belly-or lack thereof- for the better part of their current foreplay. Jesus, she thought. No wonder men, with her, tried to get it over with as soon as possible.

He held her shoulders as she lowered her head to lap at his nipples, which he seemed to enjoy, if the soft grunt gave any indication. She undid his trousers, jabbing them down along with his boxers. She ran her fingers along the dragonfire scars on his hips before settling her eyes right on Charlie's...

"Tallywacker."

He barked a laugh. "What?"

Hermione cleared her thought. "You have a very nice tallywacker, there."

For some reason, this made him laugh much harder.

She wrapped her hand around it, sliding her thumb over its weeping tip. That certainly stopped his laughing.

"You're not very shy," he said, his breath caught.

"Why would I be? It's just a pocket rocket."

Charlie laughed again, nearly doubled over, so Hermione tightened her grip and wanked him hard. He slowly straightened, his eyes hooded and glazed. He reached for her, returning his fingers to her clit, and she yelped.

She had no idea where Charlie'd learned to massage a clit, but at some point she had to let go of his plonker to simply cling to his shoulders and grind herself on his hand. He liked her moans, she gathered, noticing his candlestick twitch along with her vocalizations.

After rolling back for some time, her eyes darted just behind him at his clock. "Oh!" she said, jumping back. "It's been fifteen minutes. We should move on to intercourse now."

Charlie stared at her for a second before giving her a half-smile. "Yes, madam."

On the bed, she motioned for Charlie to go on top. They may as well start with the basics.

His weight felt delicious over her, and she thought it was just too bad that things were going to be cocked-up- and not in a good way- from here on out.

Charlie looked eager, proven by how quickly he entered her. He paused for a moment to groan and roll his eyes back. "You'reβ€” godsβ€” you're tight."

Hermione shrugged. "Thank you...?"

He snorted over her shoulder and started to thrust. He gasped when she tightened around him, and grunted when she lifted her hips to meet his. He moaned when she maneuvered her legs up so that the backs of her knees met his shoulders, allowing him to go very deep.

Charlie was really, really into it. Hermione supposed that was nice, at least.

She sighed and found her attention wandering out the window. The moon had lit up the clouds all around it. What sort were those again? Nimbus? They looked like a moonlit silk, wrinkling up the sky. Hermione wondered if it would snow tonight.

"Where are you?" Charlie asked, his hand on her cheek.

She jerked her attention on him. "I'm here, Charlie."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," she said. "I was wondering if it would snow or not."

Charlie laughed, his cock twitching inside her in a bit of a pleasing way. She closed her eyes until he was finished, focusing on the sensation. "Tell me if you start thinking about the weather. Or anything like that. Alright?" He pulled back slowly, sliding his joystick back in with equal speed. "What's that feel like?"

"Well." Hermione frowned. "It feels like you're polishing your hotdog with my taco."

Charlie blinked and roared with laughter again, causing Hermione to gasp and lift her hips slightly against his convulsing cock. Christ, that felt good.

"What's with these euphemisms?" Charlie asked finally. "What's wrong with 'penis' and 'pussy'?"

She scoffed. "'Pussy,' first of all, is also a euphemism. And I don't know! Okay! It just makes things more interesting."

Charlie raised an eyebrow and put his weight on his left side, sliding his right fingers to her clit. She gasped at the dual sensation of his beef branch inside her and fingers upon her. He pumped into her fast and slow, increasing the pressure on her clit with each thrust.

Hermione arched into him, her nails in his shoulders. "That's cheating," she said between moans.

"You said nothing about touching."

She didn't respond. Well, unless you counted mews, whines and warbled versions of Charlie's name as words. Which Hermione did not.

Coming with aβ€” fine, a penisβ€” inside her was rapturous. It wasn't like the orgasm itself was the strongest she'd ever had (thanks to experiences with her own fingers in the bath). But it was good, and lasted a good amount of time, and clenching a honest-to-god corn-on-the-cob during was... Merlin. It was good. Even if it meant her vocabulary was now dismantled.

She realized he must've finished, too, because when she returned to earth, he was collapsed on her. She glanced at the clock and was horrified to see that it'd taken over thirty minutes.

"I'm sorry I took so long," she said quickly. "That's what I'm trying to work on."

Charlie lifted his head. "Are you kidding? That was brilliant. Perfect. It wasn't long at all."

Hermione looked up, pursing her lips. Could he be right about that?

He gave her a wicked grin. "Can I lick your pussy yet?"

She smacked him. Even though his question made her clit throb immediately, she wasn't ready for comments on how she looked, tasted or smelled. Said comments made cunnilingus very difficult to enjoy, which was truly a loss, because when done properly, (as in silently), it usually made her come very... good.

"I'll take that as a no." He let his head fall back on her shoulder.

"Let's just sleep for now," Hermione said. "Tonight was more or less successful. So let's not push it."

"Yes, madam." She felt him smile against her skin.

Fifteen minutes later, her teeth brushed and body dressed in one of Charlie's linen button-downs, she fell asleep with one of his muscled, ice-cream-churner arms draped over her hips.


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