7

A life beyond your control.

One is usually aware of when they have reached a point of no return. This was one of those moments, because she had Narcissa Malfoy under her covers, naked.

Hermione Jean Granger was no longer as normal and upright as she always claimed. She had never been, deep down, but there it had stayed: deep down. There is nothing wrong with thinking things, everyone thinks bad things. Thinking of wanting to kill someone for being unbearable did not make you a murderer, for example. But now… Narcissa Malfoy was in her bed, and they weren't in her dreams. She had sex with her in reality. So Hermione was no longer normal, because it was not normal for a woman to feel physical attraction for another woman, because she also did not have a romantic date that later ended in sex as an act of love, rather it was a meeting with a friend that ended in bed; and the list could go on with several more things. And least of all was Hermione honest because she slept with a married woman.

In fact, right now she could see the gold ring on Narcissa's hand, it was the only thing on her, besides the sheets and some small earrings. As if it were a bad, ghoulish joke of the universe, Narcissa was left-handed. The wedding ring was on the same hand she used to bring her to orgasm. And now she was feeling pretty guilty about the whole situation. Hermione Jean Granger isn't supposed to be a homewrecker!

Narcissa was looking at her face right now, she looked slightly sleepy and not at all guilty. She looked cute, with a lazy look, relaxed on her pillow. Tempted by the sight, she wanted to stroke her hair, which she found was as soft as she suspected. Maybe the guilt Hermione felt was not so great? Or the pleasure covered it, that was also possible.

"Hermione."

Her name sounded too good in that husky tone. It had only been a few minutes since she brought Narcissa to orgasm and it showed.

"Stop worrying," she ordered, reaching her hand up to her face to stroke her thumb across her brow, trailing her finger out to the end of one of her eyebrows.

"I'm not worried," Hermione lied.

Narcissa hummed a "hmm" and gave her a smile that made it clear that she didn't believe her at all.

"Why aren't you worried?" She complained then.

"Normal people relax after having sex. Didn't you know?"

"You're not funny."

As Narcissa chuckled, she raised her head and used her elbow for support. She leisurely examined Hermione's face from her new height.

"Why did you do this Narcissa?"

"I wanted you."

"Why?" She insisted, her voice straining now.

"You're pretty."

Hermione couldn't help raising one of her eyebrows in disbelief. Narcissa must have seen as many beautiful models as she read books, even male models. And her husband? She had to admit that he had a certain charm.

"Also impertinent. Looking at me all the time, looking for me."

"You like being the center of attention, huh," she teased with an annoyed tinge.

"You seem tense again."

"I wonder why," she said wryly.

"Surely we can work it out," she teased her, smiling flirtatiously.

"We're talking," she reminded her.

"We can continue talking."

Hermione had no time to contradict her, as Narcissa had pulled the covers down to climb on top of her body with no fabrics involved. She held her breath as she felt their skin brush against each other again. Narcissa was on top of her, pressing their hips together. The woman was very confident, upright and looking at her mischievously from above. Hermione's eyes dropped to her bare breasts, but they didn't stop there, but at her belly, which had some stretch marks. It surprised her that Narcissa didn't mind showing her, always being so "perfect." They were probably because of the pregnancy, and maybe that's why she didn't mind having them: for her motherhood is a beautiful thing. And Hermione couldn't disagree, be it for a son or not, she liked the change in texture, it made her want to draw the lines, go up and down, towards her hips, the triggers of everything that happened between them. She brought her hands to Narcissa's waist, her palms caressing the curve, dragging them to her broad hips. She squeezed, enjoying the way it felt to sink into her.

The muscles of the guys she was with were harder than this. Narcissa was a great contrast: she was soft, very soft. The skin, the flesh, it was as if it melted in her hands. Maybe she knew what her anatomy was like since they were very similar, the most similar body to hers that she had ever had sex with, but it was still very different to touch herself than it was to touch Narcissa. All bodies were actually different. All the people she was with were different to the touch: softer or drier skin, shorter or longer fingers, wider backs than others, scars, few or many, smaller or thinner mouths, even different muscle mass ...

So, in general, she was not shocked by the change, since the physique always differed from person to person. At least, that's how she thought, until she remembered the existence of body hair. She had never been with someone who, like her, waxed. All the men she had sex with had hairy legs at least. But not Narcissa. Did it make sense that what shocked her the most was that? It wasn't even decisive, something intrinsic to her physique. Men could wax and women could have hair like them if they allowed it to grow out. Professional athletes did it, for example, regardless of their gender, they waxed. It was silly to notice this detail. But there were her hands, walking down Narcissa's legs. She never imagined that stroking them could feel so good. And now she understood why the boys she was with had caressed her legs so much like that ...She could spend her life peacefully like this, giving up everything except touch. But actually, she had too many questions to accept that.

"You're trying to distract me," Hermione complained.

"More like relax."

"I don't understand you," she murmured. "You confuse me."

Narcissa said nothing, just placed two of her fingers on the end of Hermione's neck. She went down with them, without applying much pressure, traversing the space between her breasts to her navel. Her body shuddered, both from the gentle tickling that her fingertips generated, and from the attentiveness with which Narcissa's eyes followed their path.

"I have a lot of questions," Hermione continued, trying to focus.

Then Narcissa looked at her face, at first serious, she seemed to be thinking about something, and then that smile appeared again that she should learn to fear.

"Would you like to play something?"

"What?" Hermione wondered. "Are you listening to what I say?"

The woman's smile widened and she nodded. She leaned forward, until their faces were very close. She spent only a few seconds looking at Hermione's lips, but then she moved to the right, up to her ear.

"I think we can both get what we want at the same time."

She took a breath, surprised. Narcissa whispering in her ear like that was too erotic. She almost forgot her questions. Almost.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione managed to say.

"As long as you comply with what I ask, you can ask me, and I will answer you with the truth. If you stop, so will I. If you refuse, so do I."

Her heart pounded in her chest hard. If Narcissa wanted to "relax" her, she had a good idea of what she would ask of her. She was torn right now, between desire and nerves. Hermione had never been in a situation similar to this. Her dates didn't "play" with her. At least not like this.

Hermione felt her lips kiss her neck and sighed. She had been holding her breath without realizing it so Narcissa's smile did not take long to caress her skin, happy for her reactions. They kissed again, but now much slower. Narcissa was taking her time exploring her more calmly and unhurriedly. Hermione let go of the legs that imprisoned her, moving her hands up her stomach until she could touch her breasts. They were bigger than hers, she couldn't cover them completely. Narcissa bit her and didn't let go as she tugged her lower lip away. Hermione hissed and before she could get up to kiss her again, Narcissa finished putting distance between them, grabbing her wrists to press them against the mattress.

"Do not touch me."

She didn't have time to protest and try again, as Narcissa shifted back, moving away from Hermione's hips and releasing her wrists to sit back on the bed, then occupying her mouth in kissing her shoulders, clavicle, until reaching her breasts, stroking her lips around the areola. It took her a few seconds to snap out of her stupor and understand that Narcissa had started the game. She put her hands on either side of her body, sliding them across the sheets, not sure what to do with them.

"You know…?" She stopped, twisting her body. Narcissa just then happened to suck on her nipple while squeezing Hermione's waist from both sides to try to keep her still. The soft laugh she let out indicated that she got what she wanted: to upset her. "Your husband," she resumed, clenching her jaw for a few seconds because her nipple was bitten, "you're being unfaithful to him."

Narcissa returned to her neck, kissing her a few times while her hand squeezed the breast she had been ignoring. She had spread Hermione's legs to have her body between them and took the opportunity to lift her own leg until she felt the moisture against her skin. Hermione was already quite wet, so she moved closer to her, to generate friction.

"The question," she complained, closing her eyes at the sensation.

"You didn't ask me anything, you just stated something," Narcissa teased before biting her neck.

"What?" She moaned, in a mixture of frustration at speaking and pleasure at the pressure on her crotch.

"That is a question," she pointed out. "And the answer is: you didn't ask me anything, you only stated something."

"You can't be serious," she growled.

She squeezed the sheets tight. She couldn't play and Narcissa wasn't making it easy for her. She swung her hips forward, eager from arousal.

"Are you being unfaithful?" She managed to formulate.

Narcissa straightened, peering down at her with a smile that bordered on evil. All movement ceased, so Hermione let out a low groan at the loss.

"You already asked a question: 'What?' You did what I asked, and you asked me. Now it is my turn."

"But! You know that wasn't the question." She was outraged.

"Oh, Hermione," she whispered sweetly, bringing one of her hands to her face to caress her cheek with the back of it. "You don't have to be so upset about a game."

She should be angry, she felt anger and helplessness in her chest, but she also felt a twinge in her lower belly and her dampness grew…

"Come on," she guided, sitting on the right side of the mattress and pulling Hermione back to reverse positions. "Your mouth between my legs and I allow you to ask me a question."

She looked down, roaming over Narcissa's body. The excitement got worse. She had only done blowjobs so far, so… she couldn't deny her curiosity, and slight nervousness. She put her hands on the woman's knees and pushed them out, to spread her legs; she was soaked. She'd learned minutes ago that Narcissa wasn't very vocal, so it didn't surprise her that she was good at hiding her excitement while playing with her. She released his knees, running her hands up the inner thighs, until she was encouraged to lower her face. She kissed the skin of the leg, pressing her lips there for several seconds before peeling them off.

"Are you being unfaithful?" She repeated.

"No."

Hermione looked up and met her eyes intent on her actions. Narcissa was not lying down at all, she was using the back of the bed to support part of her body so as to be able to observe her.

"Go on," she asked, "I'm intrigued to see how you will give oral sex."

Again: heat. Both in her belly, culminating in her crotch, and in her cheeks, because she could swear there was a hint of mockery in the tone she used when she spoke to her. Hermione now realized that in everything they did for the game, she only got Narcissa to say "no" to her. That woman must have felt bliss at her expense.

She was coping with conflicting emotions. Should she get angry? Since Narcissa had managed to kick her question out for so long and it was so frustrating. But she couldn't deny that she was relieved deep down because that simple, silly "no" said a lot. She didn't understand it, of course. It didn't make much sense that she was between the legs of a married woman and that it didn't make her a secret lover. However, it was easy to solve the confusion, she only had to ask, so she obeyed.

Before leaving the skin of her thighs, she kissed them again, but now also dragging her tongue. Narcissa trembled with anticipation and looked at her with greater interest. She was intimidated by that, but still moved on. She closed her eyes and dared to run her tongue over her folds. There was no invasive taste or unpleasant texture, so she did it again. She suddenly felt a hand on her head, stroking her hair. She sighed in pleasure and that caused Narcissa to let out a soft gasp. The noise caught Hermione's attention and within seconds she understood the situation, and then she blew again, making Narcissa's grip on her hair tighter. She opened her mouth and licked again.

"Higher."

"I know," she said with annoyance, "I was just taking my time."

She came up, pressing her clit. She stroked with her tongue, shorter than before, focusing on that specific part. Narcissa tilted her head back and spread her legs a little wider.

"Wait," she stopped, separating her mouth a few inches from her crotch. "You just asked me for something else." She smiled proudly at the murderous look Narcissa gave her. "I obeyed two things already."

Narcissa said nothing, but pushed her down, silently asking her to continue. She held her legs with both hands, stroking their length, not obeying, after all ... she didn't say anything.

"Why do you say this is not infidelity?"

"Because Lucius knows," she hissed out of breath, unable to finish her sentence. Hermione had resumed action, circling her tongue over the most sensitive part. "He knows that I sleep with other people."

She stopped licking, to give a gentle suction. Narcissa sighed, tensing her muscles. Hermione took it as a good sign and did it again, and again the reaction was positive. She alternated between sucking and stroking with her tongue, increasing the pressure as time progressed. Narcissa was sweating, she could feel it on her hands as she touched her legs, running them gently over her skin.

"You do not love him?"

"I love him."

She groaned, the first Narcissa had done so far. Hermione could feel her own wetness on her legs increasing and the unattended tingling was driving her crazy, in addition to the stress, her position was beginning to bother her: her stiff back, her neck, her tongue; but she ignored it all and kept rubbing her clit, until she managed to bring her to orgasm. Narcissa gasped, clenching Hermione's hair, pulling her against her, until her muscles relaxed and she stretched out wearily on the bed.

Bloody beautiful. Her blond hair spilled across the sheets, her rapid breathing, and her pale skin glowing. Her eyes closed. Now she was not aware of how Hermione saw her or what things about her body she learned. She was in her home, in her room, on her bed, exhausted from the orgasm she gave her. Narcissa was under her body, trying to control the sensations Hermione caused her. Her blue eyes finally opened again, they looked different than normal.

"I don't understand yet. It's strange. Why are you in my bed if you love him?" Hermione asked.

"It would be strange if we all loved in the same way."

Notes:

People, I think it is obvious, but because they are two people with a vagina does not make them safe. Remember to use protection since you are not pixels of a drawing or literary descriptions (Didn't you learn anything from Shedding Skin? Or worse, you didn't read it?: C). A Normal Life takes place around 1984 and people at that time loved to think that sexual diseases did not exist, BUT THEY EXIST now. Actually, I don't know the exact history, but in Britain it was not until 1993 that the female condom was marketed. I do not know if that information is totally fine, but hey, they are not paying me to write, I am not going to do an investigation of more than a couple of links in Google, I have more things to do. But whatever the date, Even today most are unaware that sexual diseases exist between two cis women, I did not learn it myself until I was 18 (2018), and on top of that it was self-taught.

And yes, 1984, in case some have not noticed it yet. There are small clues, such as landlines instead of cell phones, and of course, when Cortázar died as a more exact example. We can imagine that this Hermione's adolescence was around 1970.

Well, well , now that I told you off ... Thanks for reading! I adore you. 3