"Bloody hell, I'm so stupid!" Harry chastised himself, staring at his ink-covered hand and then its trail down the hallway. He started his walk and think about what had happened. He had stupidly let his hormones gain control over him again, this time resulting in the spill of an ink well still full in preparation for Professor Flitwick's lecture.
Why can't I focus! He thought, knowing the answer: Hermione. Over the past few weeks, he had started to notice her figure being hugged by her uniform and robes, her pink lips and freckled nose, and her glowing bronze skin. And almost every night he kept imagining her walking into his room late at night, completely naked, undoing his pajama pants, and…he slapped his hands down on his crotch before he got a boner.
He had these thoughts over and over again and wished he could live them out for even for a second if only Ron didn't like her so much. Though he had been silent about his feelings, Harry knew about the crush that had been blossoming since first year and also the fact that his friend was too shy to go after her, torturing himself with graphic dreams where he took care of his desires when he thought all were asleep in the dorm room (not realizing that they were all joining him). Ron had been his best friend and didn't want to wreck that by destroying something that didn't really exist but…
Merlin, I can't stand it!
Even under the drone of Flitwick, he was captivated by her poring over her parchment, her pink lips bitten in concentration, and her breasts perky and pronounced as she straightened out her back, taking full advantage of her posture. Every once in awhile, her leg would bounce, letting her skirt fall back over her thighs until she grabbed at the material, but he swore up and down he could almost see her panties. He continued down the hall in memory.
The trail stopped at a door and he entered, hoping that the memory would fade when he stopped at the beautiful sight in front of him. Hermione was on top of a sink, her ink-splattered stockings at her ankles, leaving her legs bare. Her robes were off and balled up in an adjacent sink along with her shoes (and the now discarded stockings). Ink ran down her leg, splattering on the floor and her shirt had thick black splotches that clung to her skin.
"Harry!" Hermione cried out in relief, not surprise or anger. "Help me wash this off." She handed him towels and set him to work wiping her bare legs. Harry gingerly elevated her leg, causing more drops to fall unto his shirt and the floor and rubbed her down with towels, feeling activity every time his fingertips passed over her soft skin. After awhile, his hand was reaching into her skirt and feeling the pattern of her panties and her soft skin. Hermione forced Harry off his knees, pulling him into a kiss before he could apologize. Their hands began to explore one another, pulling at their shirt buttons exposing their bare skin and touching the cold marble of the sink. Harry bent his body, causing her to go into the sink and her legs to be elevated, her pink panties exposed.
Enamored as he was, there was still one question on his mind.
"But…what…about…Ron?" Harry panted, thinking about his best friend for a moment, but pulling at her last button tracing her bra pattern.
"What about him?" She answered, her tone disregarding their friend for the moment. At hearing this, Harry became aroused. He snapped her bra's front clasp and pulled off her shirt, his black-stained hands over her body leaving streaks on her now exposed back and watched her blush in passion. He left butterfly kisses down her torso, stopping at her skirt's waistline. From there he pulled her skirt back and bent into the sink's smooth contour, his face disappearing but his tongue reaching out and licking her slit through her panties. He felt Hermione's pleasure as she ran her fingers through his messy hair and moaned in ecstasy making a nice bulge in his pants that threatened to bust at the seams. He finally came up for air.
Hermione looked wanting. Her shirt was off, her body in black streaks, her nipples hard in the cool breeze and pleasure, and her panties wet with Harry's spittle and her own enjoyment. She grabbed at his pants, pulling out his erected penis and cupping and stroking his balls, soon satisfied with his labored breathing and his hands clenching at her sink taps. "I'm ready," she whispered and licked his ear begging for him to let her lead.
He rolled off her panties and stuffed them with her other garments and lifted her out the sink, cupping her behind and placing her in his lap. With her legs opened wide, he wanted to finger her but was stopped; she was determined to be in charge. She slipped him inside her world gradually causing more pleasure. As they both shook in anticipation, her body moved up and down slowly, careful for him not to slide in all the way. Her hand cupped his mouth where loud moans escaped.
She feels so good, so tight, she's blowing my mind! He moaned again, his mouth watered and his hands tried to join his cock inside of her only to be held down. Hermione started to thrust harder, wrapped in her own ecstasy; sweat formed on her dirty body. Finally, she couldn't stand it; she came, screaming and breathing and whispering Harry's name. Harry reached his own climax soon after, ejaculating over and over again letting Hermione rest on him.
As the two looked at each other and laughed, footsteps clicked down the hall, obviously following the path left earlier by the two. The footsteps stopped at the door and the bathroom occupants stiffened in fear. Hermione hugged his body, fearful of being caught and Harry started combing her hair in front of her face and pressing close to her to hide their identities. Despite their scrambling, it was too late; the door banged open and Harry jumped out of his seat in Flitwick's class as a second year slammed his books down. Hermione and everyone else was gone and the next class was coming in.
"That was some dream," he mumbled and left, trying to think about a good word-association that could get rid of his hard-on.
"Let's see, bone, dog, animal…"