"I may be harsh but I am no sadist. I didn't play fair, so, I lose," he said. The smirk had vanished from his face and he seemed to be speaking in earnest. Under normal circumstances, Agatha wouldn't have been entirely convinced. Regardless, an instant relief dropped all too quickly from her shoulders, as well as her clothing.
"Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she screeched, jumping into his arms in a most undignified manner that shocked them both. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clasped him in a tight embrace; she then realized that she was nearly naked, and that a distinct bulge was pressed into her stomach. She gasped and drew away; her mortification was twofold.
"I-I-I'm sorry," she stammered, trying to gather her clothing and hope to salvage any vestiges of dignity she might have had. Snape blushed red. She couldn't tell if it was arousal or mortification.
He stood silent, staring at her with the same uncomfortable stare typically reserved for the dinner table. However, she realized that the stare wasn't one of utter loathing, but rather one of lusty admiration. For reasons then unknown to her, she shrunk back against the wall, dropping the ball of her clothing and making no effort to cover herself.
"You've discovered my secret, Agatha," he said hoarsely. She nodded quickly, never breaking eye contact with him. Snape stared her in the eye for a few second before blinking and motioning as if he was going to turn and quickly run as to avoid further embarrassment.
"Wait—"she said, grabbing for his shoulder. He turned in time to meet her mouth in a bruisingly hot kiss. He moaned, putting his hands on her waist and pulling her towards him awkwardly. Her hands went to his neck and ran up the back of his skull, pressing her breasts to his chest and her pelvis against his. Snape kissed down her neck and dropped his face in between her breasts while reaching up to grasp her hot flesh as his hot breath curled across her stomach. As his hands kneaded, he flicked his tongue over her erect nipples, eliciting a moan from her.
"I hope to hear more from you," he said almost viciously from between her breasts between kisses and licks. She suddenly pushed him back against the wall. Before he had time to protest, she was on her knees in front of him, her hands yanking at his soutaine of a jacket. He moaned and entangled his hands in her hair, closing his eyes and savoring the wait for her next action.
Agatha didn't bother to pull his pants down. She merely undid only the necessary buttons, reached in and grabbed his hard prick in her soft hands. As he moaned, she stroked him several times before swirling her tongue around his head, catching him off guard. After that precious moment of contact, she pulled back and smirked in a feline manner. Upon opening his eyes, he saw his prick scant inches from her mouth and couldn't resist pressing the head to her moist lips. She delivered a few kisses before tickling the slit with the tip of her tongue and then wrapping her lips around the head again, savoring the masculine, salty taste. He moaned and braced himself against the wall, wanting to keep from thrusting himself down her throat until he came, but decidedly doing a poor job. He used her hair to gently guide her mouth up and down until she abruptly pulled her mouth off of him completely.
"Don't you dare," he moaned, thinking of the precarious position he was in—exposed and leaned up against the wall in a most un-Snape-ish manner.
She smiled seductively and stood back, lowering her panties to her ankles and then kicking them into the relative darkness of the hall. She pressed herself against the wall and waited for him.