Hermione's Belated Christmas Present

Ron was walking down to the Great Hall besides Lavender, feeling odd. Lately he had managed to avoid her most of the time, basically because she had been angry at him since the day he had 'received' his Christmas gift from Hermione, something he was very happy about. As days passed, his hopes about her dumping him had increased. Meanwhile, he had spent as much time as he could with Hermione, and, though they had never discussed what they had done, he felt closer to her than ever before.

However, and to his great disappointment, this morning Lavender had decided to forgive him out of the blue and then had demanded that he spent part of his morning with her, and he had been unable to find an excuse. He had managed to avoid snogging, only letting her giving him a quick peck on his lips, saying he just wanted to take a walk, something she hadn't been happy about, though in the end she had relented. And now, after one of the most boring and uncomfortable hours of his life, they were heading for the Great Hall. Lavender had talked a bit, about things that mattered nothing to Ron, but he hadn't said a word. What could he say?

Once in the Great Hall, Ron spotted Harry and Hermione, and sat down next to her. She glanced at him, but didn't say anything and just kept eating and talking to Harry. Ron felt confused. Did Hermione think he had done with Lavender what he had done with her? Was she hurt?

Fuck, he needed to break up with Lavender. This stupid relationship was taking a toll upon all of them. He had cheated, something he shouldn't think he'd ever do, and if people at Hogwarts knew what Hermione had done to him while he still had a girlfriend, they would badmouth her. Well, both of them, actually, but at this point he didn't care about himself.

And well, the main reason why he needed to get rid of his annoying girlfriend was because he couldn't be with Hermione the way he wanted.

He tried to talk to her, but she just gave him short responses, and, every time, Lavender tried to intervene and distract him. It was obvious she wasn't happy with the sitting arrangements and every time she talked only added to his irritation.

He scowled at his plate, feeling dejected. Life had been wonderful since his birthday, and now, having Hermione short at him felt horrible, especially knowing it was his fault and no one else's. He knew what he had to do, and this time he promised himself he would get the nerve to do it. But, before that, he wanted Hermione talking to him again.

Fuck, he just wanted Hermione. All of her. But how could he get her to talk to him again?

As he kept eating, not paying attention to Lavender and listening to Hermione and Harry's conversation, a sudden idea struck him. Only, would he have the nerve to do it?

He thought about it for a few minutes, trying to gather his courage. Then he lowered his left hand but, just before touching her, he chickened out and put it back on the table.

Do it, you moron, he scolded himself.

Taking a deep breath, he lowered his hand once more and, this time, he put it on Hermione's knee.

He felt her tense beside him, and she threw him an undecipherable look. Ron kept his hand there for a few seconds, resisting the urge to move it away, a bit encouraged by the fact that she hadn't pushed it off her, something she could have done. So, feeling a bit more confident, he began to caress her leg over her robes. That wasn't what he wanted, so after a moment he pulled her robes up to reach her skin. This, however, she did pushed his hand away with hers.

Ron felt disappointed, but even more determined. She had done this to him, or something similar, hadn't she? So, another minute later, he put his hand back on her knee and, pulling her robes up with determination, touched the skin just below her skirt, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her inner thigh.

Hermione let him caress him for a few seconds, then dropped her fork on her plate and, moving her hand under the table, she discretely slapped his hand away once more, this time throwing him the briefest glare.

But now that he had started, Ron was resolute to go on with this. So, a bit later, he put his hand back on her smooth thigh and began to trace circles with his fingers. He felt her tense once more, so, before she could take his hand off her again and get angry at him, he leaned towards her and whispered, so only she could hear him, "I did nothing with her. Just walking, I swear."

She didn't say anything, but he felt her relax a bit, and, when he moved his hand up her inner thigh, she not only let him, but did something he hadn't expected and opened her legs a bit to give him more space.

Ron grinned to himself, his excitation growing. He could already feel himself getting hard just by touching her leg. Would she feel the same? Would she — fuck! — get wet?

The idea made him feel light-headed, and he became bolder. So, as they chatted (and Lavender grew increasingly bored and annoyed), Ron's hand moved up Hermione's soft thigh, under her skirt, until he reached her panties, which, to his delight, were already slightly damp. Feeling more excited, he began to trace the length of her slit over the soft, thin fabric, making sure to pass over her clit every time.

Merlin's pants, he was touching Hermione's pussy over her panties! The idea alone was enough to drive him crazy with lust, images of him ripping them off her and burying himself in her swarming his mind. He had to be careful, however, so, traying to maintain some self-control, he just kept caressing her slowly. Soon, her panties were drenched and she had got completely silent, focusing just on her plate, clearly trying not to moan. Ron felt like a Quidditch champion for making her feel like this. He had never touched any girl like this, so he couldn't be that good, which meant she really had to like and want him. The idea was simply mind-blowing.

He continued rubbing her, while talking to Harry about Quidditch, a subject he didn't have to focus much on, because his mind was with his hand, over her pussy. When he felt her panties were wet enough, he concentrated on were her clit was (one of the really good things of having older brothers was that you got to know loads of stuff like this long before you had an opportunity to learn by yourself). She clutched her fork with such force that her knuckles turned white. Ron looked at her, and she threw him a glance. Her lips were tightly closed, but her eyes burned with passion and lust.

"Hermione, are you okay? You seem a bit flushed and haven't said a word in a while," Harry asked her, concerned.

"I'm fine," she responded, in a high-pitched voice.

"You sure?"

"Yes," she answered, a bit harshly.

Ron tried to keep a straight face, while smiling inwardly, and kept touching her, getting her more and more aroused. However, when he felt she could just climax, she put her own hands under the table and grabbed his, stilling it. She looked at him, and, understanding, he took his hand off her, rubbing his fingers together to enjoy the feel of her juices in them. Touching her at the table was risky, but making her orgasm would be a bit too much, though, fuck, he would have loved to …

"I — I've got to go," she said suddenly, getting up. "See you later."

"Hermione?" Harry asked, concerned. But, instead answering, she left.

"I'll go see if she's okay," Ron declared, getting up as well. "See you later."

"Ron!" Lavender shouted angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to see if Hermione's okay."

"I came here with you!"

"Surely you can find you way back to the common room on your own?" he replied harshly, though right now he didn't care. He just wanted to find Hermione and finish what he had started. He had an inkling she was going to do exactly that, on her own, and the idea alone turned him on immensely. So, without another word, and ignoring his girlfriend's yelps of protest, he left running.

He caught Hermione when she was reaching the top of the stairs.

"Hermione!"

"Ron?" she asked, turning round to face him. He could see she was still flushed.

"Come with me," he told her.

She stared at him, not understanding. "Where is Lavender?"

Ron shrugged. "She can find her way to the common room alone."

"Where — where do you want us to go?"

"Well, you see, I just realised that you've given me a Christmas present, but I didn't give you yours, so ... well, I think I owe you one," he explained, his eyes fixed on her beautiful brown ones. She stared back at him for a few, long seconds, her face not betraying any emotion, and then she broke into a wide grin. "Okay," she just said, blushing a little.

Elated and happy and excited beyond measure, Ron beamed at her and, grabbing her hand, pulled her to the deserted classroom they had used a week before. After casting the charms that would give them privacy, he grabbed her face, and, after using his right thumb to caress her cheek, kissed her hard on the mouth.

Hermione moaned into his, and then responded to his frantic snogging, intertwining her tongue with his. Without delay, Ron began to fumble with the buttons of her robe until it was open, and then took it off her, finally breaking their heated kiss. Taking in her body, her heaving chest and flushed face, Ron lifted her by her waist and put her on the teacher's desk. Then he kissed her again, but, this time, put his hands on the buttons on her shirt and started to unbutton them. He did it slowly, feeling a bit nervous, not sure if Hermione wanted this. But when, instead of protesting, she just kissed him harder, he hurried up and took the shirt off her body. Then he parted their mouths to look at her exposed chest. She was wearing a white cotton bra this time, not as sexy as the black one, but Ron felt a lump in his throat at the sight of her heaving tits. He looked at her, asking for permission.

"Please," she begged.

Spurred on, Ron kissed the top of her tits and put his hand behind her to unsnap her bra, but, after a few attempts, he growled in frustration and looked up at her. Hermione let out a giggle, and then put her hands behind her back to take it off herself. The moment her breasts were exposed, Ron cupped them and, with a feral grunt, bent over and took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking greedily, making her moan.

Hermione's hand went to his head, to push his more against herself, and she arched her back to make her tits more noticeable. Ron groaned around her, driven wild by her need, and thrust his right hand under her skirt to caress her wet panties. Hermione moaned louder and opened her legs as wide as possible. Ron continued with his ministrations for a while, alternating between her tits, while his hand got under her panties, feeling the soft curls of her cunt.

Holy fuck, I'm touching Hermione's cunt. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He moved his fingers over her slit, trying to absorb every sensation for future use. Then, noticing that she was slightly bucking her hips, as if wanting more, he did what he really wanted and slid his index finger in her hole.

He swore against her breasts, feeling how hot, wet and tight she was. He moved his finger around for a bit, getting her ready, and then began to finger her while his thumb rubbed her clit, driving her insane with desire.

"Ron, oh, Ron, Ron ... " she chanted between moans so sexy that sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. His name on her voice was music to his ears, and he knew, right then, that he wanted to hear her say it in that tone. Forever.

"Take your panties off," Ron demanded, biting softly on her nipples. "Now!"

Hermione didn't hesitate. As desperate as him, she raised her bum and user her hands to push her knickers down her legs. Then she shook her feet until they fell to the floor. Immediately, Ron resumed his work on her body. He could feel how wet she was, the way her pussy was starting to contract around his fingers, and, surely, a moment later she cried out loud, pulling on his hair to the point of hurting him. He couldn't say he minded.

"RON! OH, GOD, RON!"

But Ron was not done. As she trashed and moaned, he dropped to his knees and, pushing her skirt up, he finally bared the subject of many fantasies, her cunt, to him. He took his finger out and stared at it, just for a couple seconds, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable, and then began to lap at her, drinking up her delicious juices. Hermione cried again, almost too sensitive, but Ron kept at it, avoiding her clit for a bit and concentrating on penetrating her tight hole with his tongue.

"Ron, what are you — Ooooh, gods! Don't stop!"

Ron had not intention to stop and continued licking her. He looked up at her pleasure-filled face and found her staring down at him. When their gazes met, she put her own hands on her breasts and began to squeeze them. Ron felt his cock twitch in need. Could anything be hotter?

"Keep going, keep going!" she demanded, panting hard.

Feeling that she was ready, Ron moved his head a bit higher and started sucking on her clit, making her shudder in delight. Then, quickly and roughly, he pushed two fingers into her pussy and started moving them in and out. In and out. In time with his lapping at sucks at her clit.

"Ron, oh, Merlin, I'm — oh, fuck, I'm cumming again!" she screamed, grabbing his head with her hands and pushing him even further into her cunt.

Finally, after a bit, she released him and let her body fall onto the desk, exhausted. Ron gave her a few more licks, enjoying her taste and the way her perfect pussy trembled with each one, and got to his feet.

"I'd — (pant) — I'd say that was more than one gift," she commented blissfully, her eyes still closed as she enjoyed the aferglow.

"Well, consider it mixed with an apology for being the greatest prat at Hogwarts," he said, grinning.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Fuck, he loved that smile.

"I'm no longer a nightmare, then?"

"I'd say you're more like a dream," he blurted out without thinking. She stared at him, now serious, and Ron turned completely red, realising what he had said.

"Thank you," she said. "For that. And for the gift too, of course. Best Christmas present ever."

"I'm glad you liked it," he said, smiling at her. Then, suddenly inspired, he added, "I — well, I could give you this kind of gift to you on your birthday too. if — well, if you'd like."

"I'd like it very much," she answered, smiling at him, before getting up and starting to dress up. "Very, very much."