Nothing risqué, nothing gained. Alexander Woollcott

How does one write a sex scene and keep it rated "R"? I suppose they let their readers fill in the blanks in quite a few places. I was having a sort of guilty conscience, worried that all sorts of 12 year old kids might stumble into this…until I remembered what a shameless little perv I was back then. Have fun with what there is—and use your brilliant imaginations (or other websites) for the rest. ;-)

Chapter 26: The Rules of Quidditch

While Saira had been chilly just minutes ago, she felt quite warm as they rushed through the night air. Being on a broom was the singularly most amazing thing she'd ever experienced. It was more stable than she'd imagined it might be, heading steadily in whatever direction Rolanda Hooch aimed it.

The world looks different from the back of a broom. You see more of the sky and land, and have a better perspective on your relation to it all. It's both humbling and empowering.

Hooch threw in a few downward spirals and a quick vertical loop for good measure, and Saira hollered out her appreciation.

"Guess there's no scaring you none."

"Do it again!" Saira agreed.

The two women banked left and headed towards the back towers of Hogwarts, passing the owlery and making more than a few of the birds nervous. Likely they were used to Hooch's coming and goings.

Saira felt herself getting a bit edgy as it became obvious Hooch was barreling towards a large glass window. –Is she trying another stunt here?— She hung on a bit tighter and gritted her teeth as the broom sped towards the flat plane, expecting the broom to be jerked up or down rapidly at any moment.

"Evanesco vitrum." Hooch's murmur was barely audible from the front, but its effects were relieving. The window had disappeared, and they made a rather elegant landing inside the witch's chambers.

Once inside, Hooch put the glass back in the window and reshrunk her broom,while Sairaglanced around the quarters. Trophies, ribbons, and plaques filled a giant bookcase on one side, while a matching set of shelves held a myriad of quidditch related titles. A small workbench was set up near the window with bits of wood, straw, and metal scattered across it.

"I do most of my own repairs," Rolanda explained.

"Nice. Could you show me how, some day? I'm quite good with Muggle patch jobs."

"Could be fun. There's not too much magic involved; mostly common sense. But, for right now, there was something else I was hoping to teach you…if you're interested in learning."

Saira grinned and put her arms around the witch's waist, leaning in to kiss her.

–Mmm, quite nice. Less like a battle between two mouths and more like going somewhere together.— Saira began to compare this with past experiences. –And she can kiss! And, oooh, nice and smooth, no stubble…— Saira ran her hand appreciatively across the other woman's delicately smooth jawline.

"How do you get this off?" Rolanda ran her fingertips down the sides of Saira's dress.

"Don't know; I didn't put it on."

"Hmm? Oh, no matter…" She began lifting it over Saira's head, then half paused with her eyes twinkling.

"I'm not going to catch any strange Muggle disease, am I?"

Saira made a show of indignance, though she was glad the subject had been broached. "No, though I'm likely to end up with some magical one. Aren't there rumors about you Quidditch players?"

"And they're all true," Rolanda promised. "Though wizards are a bit more progressive than Muggles in this respect, and we don't have anything to worry about."

"Must be nice." Saira started pushing off Rolanda's robes.

"Mmm, that's nice," purred the witch as Saira dragged her teeth across an earlobe. "We haven't had any problems for a hundred years, thanks to a dedicated mediwitch who was particularly fond of sex…you Muggles should put more effort into important matters."

"Agreed. Where's your bed?"

The two of them dove into the covers like giggling teenagers. Saira looked at the other woman, appreciating her athletic body with its amazing collection of muscle and well placed scars. –Yeah, scars are sexy.— They rolled together, hands and mouths moving in a teasing and twisting dance.

Saira nearly shot through the ceiling when Rolanda's mouth breathed warm air between her legs. –Crap! She doesn't need a road map; that's bloody fantastic!— She leaned back and gave in to the most intuitive, direct lover she'd yet to snog. –I should have done this years ago; half the men I've been with can't even find a clit on the first round, let alone know what to do with it!—

And later, when a recuperated Saira found herself pinning down a writhing woman, she watched her partner's face as she moved in and out of her. –Damn, that's beautiful. I see what men like about sex with women.—

The two of them had a perfectly lovely evening.

"I could get used to this," Saira lay exhausted and utterly content, cradling Rolanda's head on her shoulder.

"Don't; this was a one shot deal."

"Hey now! Was I that bad?"

"No, not at all. Quite good, actually. But you've made it clear you're not looking to play Professional Quidditch, so to speak, and I'm not about to get all invested in someone likely as not to change teams at any moment."

It made a sort of sense, and she certainly had no claim on the witch.

Of course, this meant that she wouldn't be able to cash in regularly on what had easily been the best lay of her life. And what could Saira say to that?

"Damn."