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…*~*J*~*...
When Hermione woke, she was immediately aware of a weight on her hip. It was Crookshanks. He had climbed up on top of her and was purring happily, his warmth seeping through the many layers of blankets. She wondered what her husband would think.
"Morning, Crooks," she whispered, yawning and turning over slowly so that he could adjust his position until he was lying on her stomach, blinking contentedly into her eyes. "I missed you. Did you miss me?" She brushed the half-kneazle with her fingernails, laughing quietly at the way he stuck his rump up in the air, before telling him that it was time to get ready for class. He was reluctant, but eventually conceded, climbing off of her and plopping down in the warm spot where she had been sleeping.
Hermione headed to breakfast before her husband had even gotten out of bed. After all, why should she wait around for him? The move felt… empowering. She was still her own person. She still had charge of her life. She could damn well go to breakfast when she pleased.
Her husband threw himself down in his chair just as the post arrived. Owl after owl landed in front of them leaving two copies of The Daily Prophet and one glossy, rolled up magazine. Hermione's eyes went wide and her cheeks burned as she snatched the subscription off of the table. What had sounded like an amusing idea last night now seemed juvenile and silly in the morning light.
She cast a glance at her husband and he arched an eyebrow at her. "And here I had imagined you were beyond such frivolities, Granger."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "My dear," she replied, smiling sweetly and reaching over to put a hand on his arm (#4 Little Touches), "you have a remarkable talent for wrapping compliments in scorn."
Flitwick choked on his water and Hermione jerked away, her ears growing warm.
There was a smirk in her husband's voice when he said "I see you learn from the best."
She found herself smirking in return.
As the day went on, Severus found that there was a bounce in his step. He felt unusually lighthearted, his mood balancing precariously between excitement and anxiousness. On the one hand, his wife seemed to have forgiven him for the disaster that had been Saturday night, but on the other he couldn't help but worry that Minerva had been right. The girl did seem to have taken to him in a rather unexpected way. No doubt she was projecting her hopes for what a husband should be onto the older man. It made him uneasy. But that uneasiness was preferable to the guilt and shame that had festered inside of him the last few days.
His mood was derailed after classes by the sudden appearance of a House Elf in his office, making him blot red ink on an unfortunate first year's essay. The Elf gave him a low bow. "Professor Severus Snape, sir," it squeaked, "your presence is requested at Malfoy Manor at your earliest convenience." Severus lifted an eyebrow. So, Lucius wanted a chat. "If you are not otherwise occupied, sir," the Elf continued, sounding unusually pretentious for his species, "I would be honoured to give you escort."
Severus sighed, rolling his eyes and setting his quill down before pushing back his chair. "Yes, alright," he agreed. The little Elf held out a hand and Severus took it, his body lurching at once through the vortex of space.
They landed in Lucius's study. Afternoon light filtered in through paned glass windows at the far end of the room, where a heavy oak desk dominated the open space, its dark wood polished and immaculate despite its disuse. The walls were lined with bookcases full of books he doubted Lucius would ever read, though a few had been artfully stacked on the little tables set beside each of two richly upholstered wingback chairs. The chairs were angled in such a way that Lucius and his guests would be able to converse comfortably, observing one another, but with the option of turning their attention to the magnificent fireplace. It was a grand centerpiece of white and green marble, set precisely between the window and an extravagant crystal and mahogany liquor cabinet (which saw more use than anything else in the room). And above the mantel was a portrait of the Malfoy family smirking and preening for their audience.
Severus did his best to hide his discomfort with the side-along Apparition. He straightened the front of his frock coat and approached his old friend just as Lucius spun to face him, a charming smile set like stone upon his face.
"Severus, old friend," Lucius began, clasping the other man's hand. "Do have a seat, won't you. Would you care for a Scotch?"
"No," said Severus, seating himself in his usual chair by the fire, "thank you."
"Ah yes, of course. I suppose it is frowned upon for a professor to partake of such substances during his office hours." Lucius winked at him as he reclined languidly in his own preferred chair. "Some tea, perhaps?"
An Elf appeared beside Severus, holding a tea tray complete with steaming pot. Severus nodded to the Elf, only mildly annoyed, and accepted his cuppa black without having to tell the Elf how he liked it.
Lucius accepted a steaming cup of his own and the two men sat in silence for a moment, allowing the tea to cool a little before taking a sip. As was customary, Severus waited for Lucius to taste the brew first. It wasn't out of distrust so much as formality, but that suited Severus either way.
"Narcissa and I quite enjoyed your most recent creation," said Lucius, his tone conversational.
Severus recognized the subtle hint. "It was a simple enough potion," he murmured. "I can easily procure more."
Lucius nodded, taking a sip of his tea. After a moment, he spoke again. "I am hoping to host a little soiree before too long," he said. "I had hoped you might put that creative genius of yours to use again."
So Lucius wanted a new one. "Did you have anything specific in mind?"
Lucius shrugged in a way that was somehow both demure and patronizing. "Oh, nothing so… introspective… as the last one, I think. Perhaps something a bit more… lighthearted."
Severus bowed his head. "That should be manageable."
…*~*J*~*...
It wasn't until after an exhausting day of classes that Hermione remembered her magazine and pulled it out to flip through, for amusement if nothing else. Most of the pages were full of celebrity gossip and adverts for potions and various beauty products. The first article that piqued her interest was one called "Ten New Positions to Bring Back that Spark." It was certainly nothing she'd put into practice anytime soon, but her imagination was stirred, nonetheless, and soon her face was warm and a pleasant tightness had nestled between her legs as her mind conjured images of trying these positions with her husband. When, afterwards, she tried to turn her attention to her homework, she found it was difficult to focus on anything else.
On Tuesday, she gave the magazine another perusal, discovering an article detailing instructions for Transfiguring undergarments "from the boring, old cotton ones you have to the sexy lace and satin ones he'll love!" This went right along with #5 on the list from the first subscription: Sexy Knickers. She knew it didn't matter, as he was not likely to see her undergarments any time soon, but she still spent the better part of an hour Transfiguring a pair of knickers and an old bra until she was satisfied the black lace didn't look like a home job. Something to look forward to, she thought with a smile.
On Wednesday, she brought the magazine with her to breakfast, hoping to amuse herself at the start of the day. This time, she turned to an article titled "Love Yourself." The first sentence read "If you don't know how to please yourself, how can you expect him to?" Then it went into various methods of self-pleasure for women in exorbitant detail. Her cheeks turned pink as she quickly shut it and buried it in with the scrolls in her bookbag, glancing around at the professors on either side. If her husband noticed, he didn't say a word.
After class, she drew a hot bath and tried out a few of the tips the article had mentioned, but to no avail. She wasn't sure if she was just not doing it right or if maybe she were broken somehow, but it wasn't working and eventually she gave up. At the last minute, she decided to leave the lacy black bra she had Transfigured yesterday hanging from the handle of the door (#8 Sexy Reminders: Men often have a one-track mind. It can take a little prodding to take their focus away from the task at hand. Little visual reminders will snap that focus right back to you and the sexy moments you have shared!) Then, despite the tense frustration humming in her veins, she decided to focus on homework for a while.
Severus rubbed his temples. The week was only halfway through and he was already exhausted. Between classes and grading and developing a new potion for Lucius, not to mention fulfilling Madam Pomfrey's requests for medical potions, Severus had no energy left to spare. He left his office a full ten minutes before his office hours were officially over because he just couldn't wait any longer.
The orange contaminant that Granger had the nerve to call a cat was licking its arsehole right in the middle of Severus's side of the bed when he finally made it back to their rooms. Granger was bent over the desk he had allotted for her, her brow furrowed in evident frustration over something. He ignored her, dumping his teaching robes and heavy cloak across the back of his own chair before sweeping straight into the bathroom for a much needed piss.
When he had relieved himself and washed up with the luxuriously hot water perpetually available at one touch of the taps, he glared at his own reflection in disgust. This was a habit of his; studying himself in the mirror and finding any number of reasons to heap on the self-loathing. There was a plentiful supply.
He and his young wife had developed a routine, living their lives around each other without having to interact so much. Part of him knew he was postponing the inevitable unfolding of tensions and that it would have to come out on Saturday, if not before. And another part of him wished they hadn't seemed to put a hold on the development of their relationship. That was foolishness, of course. Keeping this platonic had been exactly what he wanted. She was his young student and when this was over she would go on to live her separate life. Any complications between them now would only make that process more difficult later, potentially stunting her growth in the process. What sort of sad, pathetic man was he to crave the company of a girl so young?
When he finally did turn to leave, he reached for the doorknob only to come up short, his brow furrowing as he studied the twisted strip of black material that had been hung there. He didn't recognize it for what it was until he had lifted it off of the doorknob and stretched it out in front of him, the lace cups and curved underwire registering all at once. He didn't so much drop the garment as throw it across the room in his surprise. Of course, then it was necessary to retrieve the rather sexy brassiere from the tile floor and return it to its position in the hopes that she would never know he had even seen it. In the process, of course, he couldn't help but notice how delicate the material was. Without even intending to, he found himself picturing his wife dressed in such a garment, the pale skin of her breasts peeking through between florets in the lace.
He shook his head, replaced the artifact, and strode casually back into the bedroom. If he had been alone, he might have taken a nap right about now. As it was, with Granger glaring down at her parchment, he decided it might be best if he returned to his work on Lucius's potion. There was no telling when the other man might decide to throw this party of his and Severus would need to be ready.
…*~*J*~*...
Saturday morning, Hermione woke in the pitch black, her internal clock somehow aware of the time despite the lack of sunlight. As was becoming increasingly common, she was curled against her husband's side, her nose pressed against his upper arm. He was deeply unconscious, of course, having taken Dreamless Sleep the night before. So he was unaware of the intimacy they shared in these early morning moments when her conscious mind returned to a body that had gone astray in the night. This time, her hand had curled gently around his elbow and her knee pressed firmly against his thigh. It was hardly a shocking position, yet she knew that the Slytherin would be aghast if he knew that they woke up this way nearly every day.
Hermione was still half asleep as she seated herself at the head table and helped herself to the dishes of porridge and fresh fruit on offer. She enjoyed the feeling of slowly emerging from the fog of sleep, sipping coffee with cream as she buttered her toast with a sort of glazed expression. It was Saturday again. What was that going to mean? Part of her dreaded the evening to come and part of her couldn't help but hope. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach whenever she imagined what could be. If only she could discuss the matter with her husband. Impossible man.
When homework ceased to distract her from the looming prospect of another Saturday night, she decided to waste a little time by skimming through her now frayed and dented copy of Witch Weekly. The gem she found today was a Charm for hair removal. It started out "Whether for the look or for the feel, witches go to great length to get rid of that pesky hair! But no longer! With this Charm, you will be able to enjoy satin smooth skin without any expensive potions or creams!" There was a block of text at the bottom of the page detailing all the potential side-effects and warning inexperienced casters to practice on less sensitive areas. Hermione didn't bother with any of that. She locked herself away in the bathroom and stripped naked, sitting on a towel on the side of the tub. Her mind made up, she took a deep breath and Charmed her wand, slowly passing it over her tender skin, leaving only a little patch in the front for modesty. She had to admit, it felt divine.
Hermione decided to work on homework in bed, giving herself little breaks every now and then to imagine how her husband would react when he discovered what she'd done. She felt deliciously soft and smooth beneath her cotton trousers. There was no way he wouldn't think so, too.
She found herself wondering where the difficult man had gone off to and whether he was going to avoid her until last minute again.
…*~*J*~*...
Severus had been avoiding his wife all day. His intuition told him that she was probably going to try to have a talk with him about their strategy for dealing with this situation, and he didn't want to have that argument.
He was hiding out in his office, having had a House Elf deliver his dinner there, when a white hot pain shot up his arm. His breath caught and his face seized up in an agonized expression. When the pain had passed, he lurched out of his chair and over to the small closet in the corner of the room. Throwing on a heavy winter cloak, he slipped out of his office and made his way to the front of the school and the boundary of the grounds, where the wards against Apparition fell away. There, he twisted on his heel and was gone.
As he strode the familiar path from the gate of the Malfoy Estate down to the Manor, Severus cleared his mind, focusing on his objectives and a feeling of loyalty to the Cause. He allowed himself to feel pride for his important position and even the faintest excited greed for the rewards that would be his when at last they had control of the Wizarding World.
His stride barely faltered when he reached the dining room where Lord Voldemort held his meetings and found that the Dark Lord was alone. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but he gave nothing of his fear away.
"My Lord," he purred, bowing to the wizard on the other side of the room.
"Severus," Lord Voldemort hissed, coming around the end of the table with a patient, lingering stride. He was drawing this out for dramatic effect, aware of the way he put his subject on edge. "I think…" he continued, keeping those unblinking red eyes fixed on him, "that you have not been entirely truthful with me."
Severus blinked in confusion, genuinely perplexed, but on his guard, nonetheless. "My Lord," he responded, letting his surprise seep into his tone, "I have withheld nothing from you. I am but a pawn to be moved as you best see fit."
The Curse hit him almost before he heard the Dark Lord's icy voice screech, "Crucio!" Severus fell to the ground, but he barely felt it. Fire had replaced the blood in his veins, burning him out and ripping him open all at once. Distantly, he heard himself screaming.
An eternity passed before the fire died away, leaving him with an empty ache like his very bones and veins had been burned away leaving only the heat and his shocked and drifting mind. "I will ask you again…" came a familiar voice. Fear and hatred flared to life inside him even as the Dark Lord stooped over his body, gripping him by the neck and staring into his eyes. Severus's mind switched with a practiced flicker to the predetermined state of confused shame. He allowed himself to feel the humiliation of being seen in this pitiful state and the powerlessness of not knowing what he had done or how to stop it from happening again.
Lord Voldemort glared at him, suspicion creeping into the crows' feet around his eyes. "The Monitoring Charm," the Dark Lord prompted. "My spies in the Ministry have been able to determine its purpose. You must have known what the old man was planning. You should have told me before now."
"Mon-monitoring Charm?" Severus managed. His voice was hoarse from screaming and he didn't have to fake confusion.
Lord Voldemort's eyes were wide with a manic energy that verged on paranoia. "You must have known!" he shrieked. And then the world was consumed with fire once again.
…*~*J*~*...
For hours Hermione read for class and worked on an essay for History of Magic, all while rubbing her silky-soft legs together and practicing a speech to deliver to her professor on the subject of their marriage bed. It was a compelling argument against his current strategy for circumvention of the law. She didn't even get angry with him as the hour grew later and later and he didn't appear. In fact, it wasn't until the last hour before midnight that Hermione finally began to worry. He had cut it rather close last time, but at least she had known where he was. Was there any chance he had forgotten what day it was? She considered going to confront him in his office, but the impossible man would undoubtedly deduct House Points for her being out of bed.
Anger followed worry. He wasn't going to give her a chance. He wasn't going to leave her any time at all to make her points. Well, two could play at that game. Hermione slipped out of her pajamas and pulled on a dressing gown. She was determined not to let him humiliate her again by having her leave her shirt on while she bared her lower bits. That had been so undignified. Well, whatever else might happen tonight, at the very least, he was going to have to see her naked. Serves him right.
When her husband finally burst into the room, with less than thirty minutes to spare, he was wearing his winter cloak. Hermione spun around to glare at him, ready to launch into the speech she had prepared. But on seeing his agitated state, she jumped to attention, her plans swept from her mind. "Sir?" she began, intending to ask him if he was alright.
"Not now," he snapped through his teeth, not looking at her. He stumbled into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door. Hermione could hear the sound of the cabinet being opened and a stopper being pulled from a vial. Glass shattered against the bathroom floor. "Fuck!"
"Sir?" she tried again, inching over to the bathroom door. "Can I do something for you?"
He was hunched over the sink, clinging to it as if it supported his weight, and a potion had spilled all over the floor. "Yes," he drawled in a deadly tone without turning to look at her. "You can stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong and leave me the hell alone." Then, like one heavy piece of cloth, he slipped down to the floor, crumpling up against the wall, his head falling back and his eyes squeezing shut in pain. When he reached again for the cabinet, she saw that his whole arm was shaking.
Hermione stood there, rooted to the spot, petrified. She didn't know what to do. On the one hand, he clearly wanted her to go away. But on the other, he clearly needed her help.
Severus Snape reached into the cabinet, pulling three identical vials out with one hand and dropping one in his lap as he tried to lean back against the wall. He unstoppered the first with great effort, his hands shaking violently, and dumped its contents down his throat. When he went to unstopper the second one, Hermione couldn't watch anymore.
"Here," she said, striding into the bathroom and crouching down in front of him, "let me help you."
"Go to… bed, Granger," he managed between silent spasms of pain. He dropped the vial in favor of clutching his seizing leg and she snatched it off the floor. The stopper came out with an easy pop, highlighting just how weak her professor was at present. Lead poured into the pit of her stomach.
"Here," she said, lifting the vial to his lips. One of his hands came up to cover hers unconsciously as he allowed her to tip its contents down his throat. She did the same for the third vial, but he was still shivering violently, clenching his eyes shut in pain. "What now?" she asked him.
"Don't… need…" he forced out between his teeth.
Hermione's patience ran out. "Severus Snape," she snapped, "you are an intelligent man. I'm only trying to help. Now, I know you like to do things for yourself, but you'd be a fool not to use the resources at your disposal. It's only logical, you know."
He glared at her. "Y-you going to… undress me, Granger?"
Hermione's face grew warm. "If that's what you need," she told him, careful not to break eye contact.
He pressed his lips together in consternation, narrowing his eyes at her. "N-no, just… move," he said, pushing past her. She leapt to her feet as he crawled to the door frame and used that to help himself stand. Bracing himself there, he shrugged out of his heavy cloak and unbuttoned his frock coat, letting both garments fall to the floor. He clung to the door frame for a moment, trembling, then limped across the room toward the bed, collapsing against its side and turning over onto his back, his feet dragging on the floor. Hermione followed him. "G-glad I could be your… amusement, tonight," he choked out, pulling himself up and leaning over in an attempt to undo the laces of his boots.
Hermione crouched down in front of him, pushing his trembling hands aside. "Let me," she murmured. He gave in without a fight, falling back against the bed. It wasn't easy pulling his heavy boots off of his feet, but she got it done. "What next?" she asked him, no hint of emotion in her voice.
He glared at the ceiling. "In the cabinet," he began at last with a sigh, "short jar, pinkish oil inside."
She hurried back to the bathroom for the jar and when she returned, he had removed his shirt and was beginning on the buttons of his trousers. "Set it there," he told her, indicating the mattress. "And… don't… watch me, for Merlin's sake."
Heat flooded Hermione's face as she turned away from him. She could hear his labored breathing and the struggle of his movements as he undressed and apparently dragged himself farther onto the bed. When she turned back around, he had pulled some of the blankets across his lap and was straining to open the jar. She stepped over to him and he thrust the jar angrily in her direction, glaring at the thing as if it were its fault he needed her help.
"What happened?" she asked as she opened the jar and handed it back.
"Cruciatus," he replied, straining to rub oil on his arms and shoulders. He met her eye. "Prolonged."
"But… why?"
He let out a short laugh. It was a bitter, lonely sound. "The… Dark Lord… often sees fit to… test his followers. It is much harder for one… to Occlude… when one is in pain." He forced himself to sit up, reaching over the folds of blanket he had pulled over himself in an attempt to rub the oil into his legs. It clearly pained him.
Hermione's face was on fire, but she moved closer, gently pulling the jar out of his hand. "And what does the oil do?" she asked, directing his attention to the conversation to distract from the fact that she was dipping her fingers in the jar. He made one sad attempt to stop her, but she brushed away his embarrassed hands and began to rub the strangely warm oil into the hairy skin of his trembling legs.
"It's… for the nerves," he murmured, giving in at last and collapsing back against the pillows. "To soothe them."
Hermione nodded, searching for anything else to say to distract from the fact that she was massaging her professor's leg. It should have been messier than it was, but the oil soaked into his skin on contact and his tremors soon began to fade. Yet it was strange and intimate in a way that made her whole body tingle, taut with anxious energy. She remembered the way she'd been hunched over in concentration earlier, zapping the hair from her more sensitive parts. What a fool she had been. All week. Here she was worried about attracting her husband and convincing him to have sex with her. Such frivolity. All of it. Meanwhile, he was off with Lord Voldemort, being tortured! How could she have been so selfish? How had she forgotten the bigger picture, here? They were at war! Severus Snape had enough on his plate without any added stress from his teenage wife.
"That's more than enough, I'm sure," he said in a dry tone that she knew hid his embarrassment. The tremors had stopped, for the most part, and he looked exhausted.
Hermione supposed she should get ready for bed, too, and that was when she remembered it was Saturday. "Oh!" she gasped, staring down at him in horror. "We've almost forgotten!"
He met her eye, realization dawning and with it a raw horror that she'd never seen on his face before. Hermione cast a Tempus Charm. They had mere minutes to spare.
She met his eye again, considering. Clearly, there was no time for arguments, but there was another, more vital, dilemma. "Do you think you can…" she trailed off, her mind buzzing. "I can… I can be on top, if you like."
Her husband's eyes flew wide and distant, flickering through the possibilities. "I think," he finally confessed in an embarrassed murmur, "you may have to."
Hermione hesitated. Heat flared in her cheeks and between her legs. Briefly, she considered keeping her dressing gown on. But that would be ridiculous and more trouble than it was worth. Besides, wasn't this the reason she had put it on? She took a deep breath and undid the tie, savouring the way his eyes grew wide as she let the garment fall from her shoulders to pool on the floor at her feet. Her husband went rigid, his eyes snapping to the ceiling, his hands clasping nervously over the blankets lying across his lap.
For his part, Severus could feel the heat flooding into his face even as his cock grew hard beneath the blankets. He didn't dare look at the girl, though even a peripheral glance at her made his mouth go dry. She was exquisite.
Hermione awkwardly climbed onto the bed, planting one knee on either side of her professor's thighs. He was reluctant to allow her to remove the blankets separating them. When she did, his cock stood proud, eager, the tip a dark pink and veins apparent on the rigid staff. She crawled up his body, painfully aware of her bare breasts and his embarrassed scowl. It occurred to her that this was the first time she had seen him fully naked. Her eyes flickered over him in appreciation, though she was careful not to leer. He was in a vulnerable position, after all.
His frame was large, but thin, all sharp angles beneath a layer of faint but firm muscle. His skin was almost impossibly pale and wiry black hair was sprinkled down his arms and across his chest, tapering in a lazy line around his navel before broadening to a thick patch at the base of his eager cock. He gave her the most fleeting of glances in return and tinge of colour touched his cheeks. It wasn't much, but it made her feel beautiful and powerful and in control.
When she tried to lower herself down onto him, the tip of his cock brushed the velvet skin of her inner thigh, leaving a wet spot that turned cold in the dungeon air. Without thinking, she reached down to take him in hand.
A broken grunt escaped Severus's throat. He had rarely ever been so hard in all his life. She was so beautiful and soft, her cinnamon eyes determined to take on this new challenge and do it to the best of her ability. He wanted to know what it would be like for her to try to bring him off this way. Then the tip of his cock brushed against the satin smoothness of her hairless folds, and his breath hitched. Gods, she had shaved off her hair and it felt so good, so smooth and soft. He nearly lost control.
Hermione gasped at the contact and at the fire that leapt inside her at his response. There was no doubt anymore. He wanted this. And he looked so good beneath her, the austere facade of her professor falling away to reveal a strangely beautiful, haunted soul, his dark eyes clouded with arousal. When she began to take him inside of herself, his brow furrowed and his arm twitched in frustration with his lack of control. Hermione couldn't suppress a whimper of desire. He felt so good, she didn't stop until her thighs rested against his hip bones. She could feel the sharp pleasure of his cock in the pit of her stomach and she wanted to rock against him; to tease that tender place deep inside.
Severus kept still beneath her, but every muscle in him itched to move, to thrust into her, to reach out and touch her. She was so beautiful. So perfect. He wanted to hold her body against his own, to press his mouth against hers and make slow love to her as she whimpered with pleasure. Was that so wrong?
Hermione hesitated. His skin was hot against her own. His coarse black hair tickled the bare, sensitive skin between her legs, kindling an ache that had begun to throb, making her want to rub herself against it. She wanted to watch his head fall back and his eyes squeeze closed in ecstasy. She wanted to see what would happen if he lost control. "We don't have to stop," she breathed.
Severus groaned. "Fuck, Granger," he rasped, squeezing his eyes shut, "I've been tortured enough for one night."
Hermione's eyes went wide and heat flooded her face as she remembered herself. She pulled off of him so fast that he gasped, his brow furrowing with pleasure. Embarrassed and ashamed, she scrambled out of the bed and padded across the floor to the bathroom, the heat of his body washed from her skin by the chill in the air.
Severus watched her go, savouring the vision of her naked back, her perfect arse bouncing in just the right way as she hurried across the room. At the sound of the shower running, he closed his eyes and took himself in hand. The vision of her on top of him was still fresh in his mind: her bare skin, firm and smooth; her heavy, pointed breasts, the tips a raw pink, redder than he had imagined with wide areolas around them. So naked, so real. He pumped his fist hard over his cock and pictured the way those rosy lips had parted with pleasure at the feel of him inside her. She had wanted to continue. He imagined her slowly moving against him, cautiously at first, then eagerly, those cinnamon eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy, those pointed breasts bouncing. He came hard, hot seed spilling over his fist as he bit back a moan.
The water shut off in the bathroom and he scrambled to Vanish the mess and cover himself, his breathing returning to normal as he tried to pretend he was falling asleep. When the bathroom door swung open, the girl stepped into the room wearing only a large t-shirt and knickers, leaving those satin soft legs bare. Little tease. Her motive was obvious, but he was sated, now; his eyelids fluttering from exhaustion. He averted his eyes from her naked thighs as she climbed over him and settled down awkwardly on her side of the bed.
"Goodnight," she whispered, her voice anxious and unsure.
"G'night," he managed as exhaustion overtook him. He sank into the warmth and comfort of his blankets, feeling spent and satisfied. It didn't take him long to fall asleep.
…*~*J*~*...
Don't be mad at me! I hope you enjoyed this and I promise not to tease you forever! XD
LOVE
:} llorolalluvia