Disclaimer: Mature content - read responsibly. I own and gain nothing, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Author's Note: Here is a an update! This is when it gets slightly AU. The Dark Arts teacher is different. More chapters to be added soon. Enjoy :) (R&R!)

Task Three

Get cum on something of a teacher's

She watched his every move throughout the class, sizing him up. While not the most attractive partner for this encounter, he sure was better than his competition. Plus the Dark Arts thing was a total turn on. All she had to do was work her way past the occasional grey strand of hair that came with the age, and find something… fuckable.

She made a point of fluttering her eyelashes and looking down at her books in a manner that can only be described as flustered each time he caught her staring. His type would be the shy and innocent if he were to go for a student, so shy-and-innocent-Hermione it would be. The class was on the hand motions for a more complicated binding spell, something she had mastered a few years back. When her professor set them to their dummies to practice, she took her time, as if she were having some difficulty. As he made his rounds, she stood in front of her mannequin, swishing her hand and muttering the spell, to no avail. When he reached her, she spun to face him, only to "trip" over the uneven cobbled floor and fall, caching herself with his waist. Abs. Nice! And totally fuckable.

"Sorry Professor Lupin!" She exclaims, letting her hands linger a little longer than necessary. He falters only for a moment, smiling down warmly at his pupil.

"Having some difficulty Miss Granger?"

"Yes sir. Perhaps I could stay after class and work on it? I can't stand not being able to get it!" She looks up at him through her lashes, biting her lip ever so slightly.

He grunts, positioning himself beside her and gently scooping up her wrist.

"Lets just see if we can't fix it now, eh?"

He directs her wrist in the motion she finds so "elusive." At the last second she lets her wrist twitch the smallest bit, throwing off the spell yet again. She shrugs up at him.

"Alright then. After class." She smiles sheepishly, willing her cheeks to flush. He shakes his head bewilderedly and gives her a small smile before moving on.

As the last of the students file out, Hermione discreetly loosens the sash on her robe whilst taking her time packing up.

"Ah, Hermione. Back to the mannequins, shall we?"

She gives him a small smile, walking towards him slowly, letting her hips swing from side to side.

"I'm sure it's a rather simple fix. It's usually the finish of the motion that gets people st-" He trails off as her robes cascade down, into a pile around her feet. He stares at her red lace bra and matching thong, gulping like a fish out of water, before he regains his composure.

"Her- Miss Granger. That is highly innapr-inappropriate." He exclaims, his voice faltering as she walks in a circle around him, her hand trailing from his waist, around his back and coming to rest on his stomach.

"Miss Granger!" He cries with renewed force, forcing his eyes to stop drifting below her face.

"Yes… professor?" She asks, her voice soft and sultry.

"I am afraid I must ask you to leave. I cannot endorse such behavior in a… a uh..." He loses his place in his sentence as her bra joins her robes on the floor. Her nipples dark and erect, breasts plump and perky. She leans in and stands on her tip toes.

"You don't have to do anything. Just watch." She breathes into his ear. He shudders, eyes unfocused and thoughts elsewhere.

She brushes past him, and he turns, his body betraying his mind and gravitating towards hers. She sits on the desk, letting her legs spread. Putting her weight on one arm, she slides her hand up her stomach and cups her breast. She massages it, watching him watch her. Soon she pinches her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, rolling and tweaking it. His eyes are glued to her hand, his breathing growing uneven. She slowly slides her hand down her stomach. His eyes flick up to hers for the first time. She keeps her warm brown eyes locked with his luminous yellow ones as she slides her hand lower, massaging herself through the thong. She hits her sweet spot and her face contorts with pleasure, eyes squeezing shut. His eyes slide down her body, taking in her heaving chest, the curve of her stomach, her fingers pushing and rubbing. He involuntarily leans forward. She is watching him again, he can see it in his peripheral, but he can't tear his eyes away from her hands. His nostrils flare wildly as his breathing quickens. He gulps loudly as she pulls the cloth to the side, revealing her pussy, earning him a satisfied smile from her. She teases her clit, rolling the bud between her fingers before moving them lower, pushing one into her opening. She pumps slowly at first, relishing in the feeling of her fingers sliding along her silken walls.

Before long, she adds a second finger, pumping rhythmically. She lets her head fall back, her back arching, breasts protruding appetizingly. Her professor wets his suddenly dry mouth, the smell of sex washing over him. Her breathing becomes louder, faster; mirroring her hands. She cries out as she cums, her sweet juices falling onto the table.

When she lifts her head again, smiling at his priceless expression, he is suddenly aware of his impressive boner. A moment later, so is she. He watches as she smiles mischievously, picking up his kerchief from the table and showing him her fingers, cum making them sticky. His hips buck without his permission as she wipes her essence on his kerchief. As she stalks out of the room she shoots a spell behind her, flicking her wrist perfectly. The mannequin falls to the floor, magical bonds seizing it.

Twenty minutes after her departure from his room, Remus Lupin is standing in the exact same spot. His pants are still painfully tight around his continually throbbing erection. In front of him sits his desk. On it is his kerchief, next to it, a few large drops of cum.