Author: Lash_Larue
Title: "Eventual Envelopment" Chapter Seven of ?
Pairing: Jean/Pansy Jean/various, this chapter
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Language, Het sex, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Obsessive/Compulsive behaviour, Self-destructive behaviour, Girlsex, Possible Triggers
Word Count:4500
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling
A/N: Some upsetting realizations.
"Eventual Envelopment"
Chapter Seven
"Bitter and Sweet"
I guess Hermione had taught Jean a few things about memory spells all right, because Edward promised to recommend my restaurant to his friends when I walked him to his car. I was pretty sure he was remembering a real restaurant, and one somewhere far from here.
The witch was good, no doubt.
I heard her shower running when I got back, so yeah, I went to look.
She was washing her hair, and it looked like she'd figured out how much to use because there was just a nice lather, it wasn't running everywhere. She didn't linger, so I guessed that the sex had been good enough to take the edge off, anyway. I watched her towel herself off, I had to, I couldn't look away until I saw her pulling on shorts and a t-shirt.
I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine; I kind of needed a drink. She joined me soon and poured a glass for herself.
"So?" I asked after a couple minutes. She smiled while I was taking a drink, and a little wine ran down my chin. She reached over with a napkin and caught it, and I coughed to cover up the shiver.
"That was kind of fun," she said, "I like being in control, it makes me feel sexy. I've never really felt that way before. I like it."
She did indeed. She went through a bunch of guys that first month, one of them twice. The off days she worked on her room, filling bookshelves mostly, and arranging volume after volume from her bottomless purse. We went shopping when we needed to or just wanted to, but it seemed more like she was resting up between bouts than anything else. I did manage to tell her about the windows, though, and that worked out well for me.
I actually wanked off watching her read "Hogwarts - a History" sitting on her bed wearing a Gryffindor shirt and no pants at all. I bent my rules a little, I guess, but no pants has to count for something.
For me, nothing was as good as that first shower, but watching her on all fours while Richard pounded her from behind and pulled on that thick hair, seeing her tits bounce all over and the look on her face when she came, the night lights of the city behind her...
That was pretty good. She must have thought so too because he got the call-back. Hell, even I was a little sore after the second time.
She didn't come with all of them, and some nights when we hit the clubs she didn't even find one she liked. One bloke got his memory wiped before he got his wick wet. That was fine with me because after she got rid of him she stretched out on her bed and took care of things herself.
I spent my spare time refining my spell so that I could restrict my view to her. I liked it when she showed pleasure, but I really didn't like seeing the man with her. It would not be much of a stretch to say that I hated them for not realizing how special she was. I never saw one of them stare in wonder at the clarity of her skin, never heard one of them remark on her freckles, or pay proper reverence to her breasts.
And she usually seemed to get something from them, and I wanted her to have what she wanted.
But it was starting to hurt, the realization that I couldn't give that to her. Give her what she wanted. It was starting to hurt to know that they were feeling parts of her that I could not, to know that they came inside her leaving something of themselves behind, to know that her softness enveloped them and not me.
It was starting to hurt to watch her, but I needed - I needed to watch her.
And I wanted to touch her, to taste her, but I needed her to want me to do it.
It wasn't fair, but life seldom was, in my experience of it.
"I've been selfish, Pansy, I apologize, it's not fair," she told me one morning as she set out our breakfast.
"Huh?" was the best I could do.
"You haven't been with anyone since I got here, you've just been watching out for me. You must be a little frustrated or something," she explained.
Oh hell no I wasn't, not in the way that she meant, anyway, but I didn't want to explain what was really bothering me, so I settled for a shrug.
"I'm fine, like I said, I don't do it all the time. If you're having fun I'm okay, really."
"How about another getting to know us day? We can go shopping and then I'll fix a nice supper for us, okay?"
"Sounds great," I agreed, and I was truly looking forward to it. I really was a little weary of my role as wingwoman, and we would do well to give the neighborhood places a rest. We'd been everywhere but the dyke bar, and there were only so many bars and clubs around here.
"I know! We can take a tour of the museums, and the Tower! Have you ever done that, Pansy?"
"No," I admitted. "I've been living in the Muggle world since the war, but apart from restaurants, bars, and shopping, I haven't actually been much of anywhere." I didn't much think I'd like it, either, I'm no Ravenclaw, but it had been a while since I'd seen her look excited like this, and I liked that.
Now that I thought about it, she didn't really look all that happy when she was fucking, either.
After breakfast we took a cab and she signed us up for a tour, and I admit that I had a great time. Some of the stuff was interesting, but it was watching her that was fun for me. She knew as much about this Muggle stuff as she did magic, and before too long even the tour guide was listening to her.
We left the group at lunchtime, and were looking around for a place to eat.
"Oh, that's a good place," she said, "I went there with my parents, and-"
She broke off abruptly and the shadow filled her eyes, along with some tears.
"My turn to choose," I told her to cover her distress, "I remember a place my grandmother used to take me." I waved for a cab and she got in beside me without a word.
"The Savoy?" she questioned when we arrived.
"Yeah, is it bad? I thought it was pretty good, but if you'd rather go someplace else, we can."
"It's excellent, Pansy, but I doubt that we can get in, it's always booked, or so I've heard," she told me.
"Grandmother never had any trouble, let's go."
There was a bit of a que waiting to talk to the man with the book, and Jean excused herself and went to the loo. The que moved efficiently and I was at the head of the line soon enough.
He asked for my reservation, and I showed him my ID and gave him some money. When Jean got back he took us straight to a table.
"This was lucky," Jean said, looking around the place, and I was glad to see the sadness gone from her eyes. The food was truly excellent, and I really enjoyed it, but not as much I enjoyed watching her enjoy it.
"Have I got something stuck in my teeth?" she asked me. I guess I was looking too hard.
"No, I was just thinking of something new for your makeup. The lighting in here is different. Dessert?"
After lunch we visited a bookshop, and her eyes lit up. It was even better than lunch.
I had time to wonder what it was about her that fascinated me so, it was more than attraction, although there was plenty of that. It was something other than love, too, I mean, no way I'd fall in love. I just couldn't take my eyes off of her - the way her hair shone, how her breasts shifted heavily when she reached for a book, the sparkle in her eyes when she learned something new. The freckles across her nose.
Every little detail.
We got home and I watched her take a quick shower before I took one myself. She looked happy, and by the time I'd pulled on some comfortable clothes she was rummaging around in the kitchen figuring out what to fix for supper. I opened a bottle of wine for us and the afternoon stretched easily into evening while we reorganized the whole kitchen.
She'd fixed a casually elaborate meal that would be easy to eat while we watched television, and we carried it all over to the coffee table and set it out there. Then we pulled a couple cushions off the couch and sat on the floor to see what was on the telly.
There was a decent comedy, and I opened another bottle, and we enjoyed the supper she had fixed and just sort of vegged out. It was pleasant.
"Why don't you find us a film, Pansy?" she asked. So I brought up the menu, but nothing coming up looked interesting to either one of us. "Are there any adult channels?"
"Porn, you mean?"
"Yes, I've never really seen any. Ron tried to get me to watch some with him once, but I knew it was just his idea of foreplay and I wasn't interested. But I've wondered about blue films," she explained.
"Sure, just a minute," I found the section on the menu and the first thing that came up was some bird taking on three blokes at once.
"Gross, find something else, please," Jean asked after a brief moment. I found something with a couple going at it. "That will do, I suppose," she said, and I leaned against the couch and watched her out of the corner of my eye. I guess I was hoping she'd get turned on and start wanking or something but -
"Why on earth do they keep changing positions so often? They don't seem to be enjoying themselves very much, either."
"Well, they're actors. They're following a script, they probably really aren't enjoying it all that much," I responded.
"He just had an orgasm," she pointed out.
"Yeah, well, he's a guy. Cocks aren't that complicated; if you rub them long enough they go off." The scene changed to another couple.
"She looks angry," Jean commented, "and bored."
"She really does," I agreed.
"I feel that way most times, with the men, fucking them," she said quietly. "I don't respect them, don't even really like them much. I come sometimes, and I know they do, but it's kind of empty even then. And I keep doing it, I keep fucking them."
She poured some more wine.
"I do it for the feeling of power, I guess. I like to see them want me, to know that they'll do anything I tell them to just to get to fuck me. It's not like I'm really giving them any part of myself. I just like to be in control. Is it like that for you?"
"Sometimes," I admitted.
"Do you like sex with women better than sex with men?" she asked, still staring at the screen.
"I like sex with some women better than sex with some men, yes, and I guess I have to admit that if I were forced to pick either men or women forever that it would be women." She nodded.
"Find something with women, please," she requested.
I went through a few channels slowly, waiting for her to tell me to stop.
"There, leave it there, please," she asked.
Two women were wrapped up in a desperate-looking bit of sixty-nine. She watched for a while and then asked me to try and find something else. We were running low on porn channels.
"This one," she said.
A blonde with obviously enhanced boobs was standing with one foot on the arm of a chair while a redhead kneeled in front of her and ate her out.
"Do you like that?" Jean asked.
"I've seen worse porn," I admitted, "at least the blonde seems to realize someone is licking her pussy."
"No, I mean oral sex, do you like it?"
I recognized the tone of voice, she was doing research.
"Overall, yes, I like it," I told her.
"Would you rather perform it or have someone do it to you?"
"Depends on the partner and the circumstances, and how I feel at the time. I don't mind talking about sex, but is this headed somewhere in particular?" I asked her.
"I thought I'd really like it, having someone do that to me, I mean. Ron never did, and of course I couldn't ask him to. Suppose he'd said it was nasty or something? I mean, it's me. But I did think it would feel nice; tongues are soft and warm and wet, after all."
The movie wasn't doing much for me, but her turn of phrase was making me uncomfortable.
"Why on earth is she standing like that? That can't be comfortable, although I admit that her balance is admirable." Jean had a point.
"A lot of, if not most of, this hard-core stuff is made mostly for men, the actors are positioned to look sexy and expose the most skin. Even the stuff with just women in it. Hell, maybe especially the stuff with just women in it," I explained, and she nodded. "Some women really like this too, though, and sometimes I see one that kind of turns me on. Everybody is different, regardless of what gender they identify themselves as."
"Have you ever had an orgasm from oral sex?"
"Yes," I answered her.
"I've found it disappointing, frankly. Mostly I felt like the men were doing it because I expected them to, or told them to. Some of them seemed to be following a flow chart. "Kiss lips suck nipple lick pussy fuck. I guess I can't complain, after all, I'm using them too, but I just thought it would be better."
"Not everybody is good at sex."
"So it's technique, skill?" she asked.
"Not exclusively, although it does help to know the terrain, so to speak. For me, and really, I can only tell you about myself. For me it's only really good if I believe that my partner is enjoying doing it. It's a very intimate act, even when it's recreational, and if they act like it's a chore it spoils it for me."
Jean had taken over the remote now, and had found something where the women were at least in a bed.
"Is that really what it's like to have sex with a woman?" she asked.
"Well, they seem to be women, and you'd have to call that sex, so I guess so. I'm sure that somewhere there are two women doing that and really getting off on it, but you have to know there's no definitive answer to that question." It was fascinating to watch her try and organize and analyze something as inherently messy and chaotic as sex, but if anyone could do it, she was the one.
"Are women better at it than men?"
"Better at what?" I was a little lost by now.
"Oral sex."
"Again, some women are better at it than some men. Speaking for myself again, I tend to like it more when it's a woman doing it. Razor stubble can hurt, or maybe I'm just bent that way. Anticipating another question, I would rather go down on a woman than a man. Cocks can be handy, but I really don't much like them in my mouth, but I've known women who liked giving a hummer more than anything else."
She smiled at me.
"Actually, that was going to be my next question. I understand what you mean about different things appealing to different people, that makes sense. Tell me, have you ever seen a film with a sexual relationship between two women that you really thought was arousing? I mean, beyond a momentary whim. I suppose some of what we've seen tonight would be arousing to me if I were already horny, but something more - "real" seeming."
"There's one that gets to me every time," I admitted. "The sex is only a small part of the movie, though. It's more of an action kind of thing, but the relationship is done well, and the actresses are either damn good or really into each other."
"I'd like to see that one," Jean said, so I got up and put "Bound" in the dvd player.
Like I said, that film always gets to me. I think that Jennifer Tilly has the sexiest voice in the world, and her boobs are damn near as nice as Jean's. Jean was paying attention too, and I was shocked when, right after Tilly said "but you can believe what you feel" Jean said -
"You remind me of Gina Gershon. Dark hair, dark eyes, intense, great body."
I had been on the verge of telling her that she reminded me of Jennifer Tilly, mostly because of the tits, but considering what was going on onscreen I decided that in context that maybe now was not the right time to mention it. Like I said, I didn't want her to get the right idea. Besides, I didn't have what she wanted.
"You're barking," I replied, not even trying to mask the incredulity in my voice. "Okay, hair and eyes, maybe, but no way my body looks anything like that."
"I suppose that few people see themselves as they really are," she said in her teaching voice. "Perhaps that's what makes those two so attractive, and you're right, they are either outstanding actresses or there is really something going on between them. Or both, I suppose."
I sort of shifted in my seat a little, and she saw it. The bitch grinned at me.
"It's not all that late, why don't we go find you some company? Boys or girls?" she asked, still grinning.
I didn't have to think about that, I'd seen more than enough cocks to last me for a while, and all that talk about oral sex, and women, and watching those two on the screen had me thinking of someone in particular.
"Girls, and you damn well know it," I said accusingly, and the grin got wider. What a bitch. I loved it. "But I'll go alone. It's not far away, and I'll be fine." I quickly added to that, forestalling her protest, "because if you go with me then nobody will even look at me, and you're right, I'm kind of horny," I admitted.
"Now you're the one barking, but if you don't want me to go, I'll stay." I could see the hurt in her eyes, and I hurt too.
"Jean, I'm serious, like you said, nobody sees themselves as they really are. Okay, I could likely find somebody, but tonight I'm after one girl in particular, and I know she'd want you, okay? I'm asking for a favor, really. I don't want competition tonight. Besides, it will give you time to clean up the place," I said casually, and she grinned again.
"All right then, be selfish," she said with fake indignation.
"Thanks, I plan to be." I hurried to change.
I was back before she had the table cleared. I just put on slacks and a jumper, because the girl I was after was not into fashion. Her name is Sarah, she's a tiny little femmebutch with spiky red hair, and she's a giver. That girl loves eating pussy more than anyone I've ever known. I've seen her come doing me without even touching herself. She likes to kiss, and she likes a good cuddle afterwards, but she has a one-track mind when it comes to sex and tonight I was on the same track.
"That was fast," Jean commented.
"Different place, different sort of outfit." I was glad she'd gotten into the movie, but I was afraid that she was going to wank while I was gone, and that I'd miss it. She had a bit of color in her cheeks that let me know that she was feeling it. I reached for the wine and managed to knock it over.
"Shit! I'll clean it up," I said. Jean reacted like I hoped she would.
"Go, I'll take care of it. I'll have the place spotless before you get back," she promised.
"You're the best," I told her, not meaning what she thought I did, but she smiled, and that was good enough.
"What the hell," I thought, and I took my nerve in both hands.
"Pursuant to tonight's discussion, if you really want to see a woman come from oral sex, for real, then hide in my closet." I hurried out before she could close her mouth.
I walked fast, and the club was close by. Sarah was leaning against the bar checking out the crowd, and I walked right up to her. There was a real spark between us, and a couple times I had considered not modifying her memory to see if anything would develop, but she'd turn me down just often enough to make me decide not too.
"Hi," I said, standing very close to her.
"Hi yourself," she responded, and I saw her nostrils twitch and her pupils dilate. Sarah really loved the perfume I was wearing. You can't buy it anywhere, so don't ask.
"We don't really have to go through all the bullshit, do we?" I asked in a low voice.
"No we don't," she replied, and I grabbed her hand and fairly dragged her out of the joint.
Her eyes went a little wide when I let her into my place, and I noticed that the table was clear and that there was a slightly dark spot on the rug. There was no sign of Jean, however, and her door wasn't fully closed.
"Would you like something to drink?" I asked her.
"Sure would," she breathed, and she ran her fingers into my hair and kissed me.
It really had been a while since I'd been kissed, and Sarah could kiss. She could kiss anything and she usually kissed everything, at least briefly. The moan that passed my lips was real, and I almost just dropped to the floor, but just in case... just in case, I broke away and led her into my bedroom. Someone had thoughtfully turned the covers down, but it wasn't cold, and just in case - I threw the covers onto the floor and then Sarah tackled me.
I might have mentioned that it had been a while, and I admit that if I had been offered the choice I would rather have watched Jean in the shower, but this was so warm. Sarah's skin wasn't as soft as Jean's, but it wasn't sandpaper, either, and it felt good against mine after the clothes were gone, and her lips and tongue felt good on mine, and on my neck, my tits, my belly, my - my back arched as her tongue pushed its way inside me. I came right away, but if she noticed she didn't even pause, and that was okay with me. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that it was Jean's mouth on me, Jean's tongue, Jean's teeth.
I grabbed the short hair and pulled her to me and I knew that it was Sarah, but that was okay because Sarah already had me panting again. I looked down at her, and I could tell that she was kind of swept up in things too, because I could see that one of her hands was busy between her legs. I wondered if Jean was watching, and I looked for a shadow behind the louvers in the closet door, but the room was dim and the closet was dark. I wondered what she would have thought, seeing what Sarah was doing to me, and to herself, because I could hear the wet sound Sarah's fingers were making. I was just about to come again, but Sarah realized it this time and slowed down, eased the pressure, and she looked up at me as she slowly licked me.
"Please," I whispered, and she took my clit in between her lips and sucked on it. Once again I pulled her to me, and when I was ready to come I sat halfway up, staring at the closet door, wondering, hoping for some small sign that she was there.
There was nothing, and then my eyes closed and I shook violently.
When my eyes opened I grabbed her hair again and pulled her upwards. She dragged her tongue up the length of my body and then stuck it in my mouth. I sucked on it, tasting myself, and her tongue vibrated in my mouth when she groaned in response.
Sarah could get what she needed just by eating me, with maybe a little help from her hands. But tonight that wasn't quite enough for me, and I wrapped my arms around her and rolled on top of her.
She smiled. Like I said, there was a spark between us.
"I'm not done with you yet," I promised her, and I tugged on her bottom lip with my teeth before I kissed her. "Hold on, little one, it's time for the big girl to play."
I hoped she was watching, because I wanted her to see me. I wanted her to want what I was giving Sarah.
Her skin was salty to the taste, and she mewed when my teeth closed on her nipple and pulled. I remembered just how much pain was enough for her, just enough to set her nerves on fire without killing the pleasure.
I cupped her sex in my hand and pressed, grinding against her while I licked and sucked and nibbled her breasts, chewed down the length of her body. I loved the taste of her, the feel of her tiny yet strong body beneath mine.
I hoped that she was watching as Sarah opened to my fingers, and pressed herself into my mouth. I hoped that she was watching when Sarah's fingers twined into my hair. I hoped that she could hear the strangled cry from Sarah's lips when she wrapped her legs around me and pulled me to her while her orgasm stretched on and on.
I hoped that she was watching. But I wished that she wanted me.
"Damn, you were great," Sarah said softly as she wrapped her arms around me.
"Thanks, so were you," I told her, and I held her for some time before I got my wand, because it really did feel good to be held.
