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Red Panties	By : Maevenly Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9440 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Red Panties
- 1
DISCLAIMER:I own not the characters that appear in this story nor do I lay any claim against Rowling, Warner Bros or Scholastic Publishing.
I DO take full responsibiliry for these two characters having some fantastic sex.

RED
PANTIES

Red, blue and green lights dipped,
swirled and flashed in perfect rhythm of the pounding bass.

Bodies wearing next to nothing were
clashing, colliding, meshing and groping to the throbbing percussion line.

Hair, perfumes, colognes, body parts and
sweat were flung in every direction.

Bending her knees and rising to toss her
mane of hair over her shoulder only to lift great handfuls up and around her
ears; the song the DJ spun was her partner. There were so many persons around her
that dancing by herself actually looked like she was sharing her moves with all
the slick and shiny revellers.

Crouching down, she popped her pelvis in
time to the lyrics that altered her heartbeat as she rose to a standing
position only raise both arms over her head, twist her head and body in a
gracefully primal spin.

It was not that she wanted a dance
partner. She didn�t need one. The music, the vibe in the club, the way her hair
was slapping wetly around the tops of her shoulder and stinging her face was
her lover of the moment. Where she ran her own hands over her body as the next
song came on was the caress she desired most. Trust in the DJ to keep the
pumping, gyrating provoking stimulation was the only commitment she needed to
make to achieve satisfaction. The abrasive sensations of her aroused nipples
did not have to be taught to some new lover. An artist knows how to present his art � to the singers that sang the
songs the DJ played; their music was their paintbrushes. Her body was the
canvass that brought their work to life.

Doing a little jump, she used her
downward momentum to slap the dirty, drink stained floor. Instead of pumping
her pelvis as she rose, she stuck out her arse and did big, sweeping swipes at those around her with her
derriere. Striking her bare thighs was natural. Reaching for the hem of her
micro leather mini-dress to flirt with the idea of baring herself � not to
those around her � but to the musicians who painted such a response in her was
a very real possibility. Splaying her fingers across her midriff and feeling
how hot the fabric was made her skin tingle. Running her palms over her
hardened nipples was a display of her assured sexuality � not an advertisement
to be fondled. Dipping a finger into her mouth to confirm how her breath puffed
from her body in a way that was entirely evocative was something she did for
herself � not an invitation to �sample the goods�. She pulled at the two-way zipper that held her dress together because
the sound the zipper being raised and lowered created more heat in her body and
an increasing wetness to her person.

She was not the best dancer on the floor.
She was not the most provocatively dressed female � or male � in the club. The
aura around her was what set her apart. Everyone noticed her. And all she heard
and saw and felt was the impact of the music. In every fibre of her being.

The music changed again.

Slowing down to a gentle sway, as if the
painter were developing his background and laying in subtle nuances to the
landscape, she slowed her tempo to match the new bass line. Her micro fibre boots dragged slowly and sensually. She lifted her hair and
let the air conditioning fans waft cooler air against her sweat slicked neck
and shoulders. Couples pushed their way into each other�s bodies � but still
she did not see them. Feel them � yes. The codes of public conduct were being
adhered to � but only just. It would not take much for any of them to cross the
line.

It was such a powerful mix: sweat, heat,
music, sex, sensuality, and freedom. Bodies gravitated to her. The radiant heat
from those around her made her skin prickle and yet had no impact at all. If
she were alone, she would still get lost in the music. The rapture around her
was the equivalent of an accelerant on an open flame.

Feeling a wall of male muscle at her back
did not make her turn around. If anything it gave her the leverage to brace her
back up against a flatly defined stomach and slide the small of her back down
the length of the male behind her until her head rested against his hard on and
her knees were spread wide as she bounced in time to the rhythm of the song.
Rising and falling as her knees opened and closed, tracing a path with her hand
down her stomach until only her slender fingers provided the only barrier between
the other clubbers and her kittie, she
deliberately pressed her head against her �partner�s� growing cock.

A strong arm snaked around her waist and
hauled her to her feet without compromising her rhythm. Now his large fingers
shielded her anatomy. He kept her arse pressed against
his rock hard cock. It was her sweaty neck that he licked at � the salty flavour of her tingled his mouth and savoured it like a fine wine resting on a
discriminating palate. It was her wet hair that half blocked the vision that
rested below his chin. His other hand spanned her throat in such a way that her
chin was virtually stretched to his shoulder. His access was complete in the
sultry throbbing of the red, green and blue lights.

The palm that rested against her mons flexed possessively. She slithered her boot-clad leg up his shin � opening her self up more. His hands shifted
to travelling up her sides and reaching for her
forearms, he hooked them behind his neck before bending his own knees and
hoisting her so that her thighs draped around his and her ankles found purchase
somewhere near his hamstrings. A stabilizing right hand covered her left
breast. Weakness was found in pinching her nipple by bringing his third and
fourth fingers along side one another and applying pressure � hard. His
erection nestled itself in the base of her arse. Her nails scraping the nape of his neck coincided with the
nubbin contracting between his fingers. The hard pounding guitar rift of the
current song swallowed his primal growl.

The music changed again. A sultry,
pounding, power ballad full of sexual promise filled the club. The lights
dimmed. The swirling lights lost their
staccato edge and took on a rhythm of thrusting and pulling back. Not bright enough
to see anyone else, the dark was like a spot light to drop any semblance of
propriety.

Releasing his legs, she lifted her arms
and let him lower her to the ground. High stepping to the beat of the music,
she strode to his side and then to his back. Tossing her hair and still
dancing, she pressed her wet, sweaty back against his wet black clad shoulder
blades. Turning around she pressed her breasts against the same spot � as if
she were preparing him for was to come. Blazing a trail with her fingers, she
used his bands of muscles to find his stomach and where his tight black t-shirt
was tucked into the waistband of his leather pants. Freeing the shirt, she
teased the fine hairs she found near the button of his trousers before snaking
her hands up to his paps and giving him the same treatment
he gave her moments before � a tantalizing aria before the coda.

Enough.

Grabbing her left arm with his left hand
he swung her in front of him. Hooking one of her knees over his elbow � he
showed her what he had kept brutally leashed. His cock was straining so hard
against his pants that it separated her lower lips and her wetness glimmered in
the low light. Dropping in time to the music, she unhooked her leg and dipped
her face to his crotch and made the leather darken even more with the juices
from her mouth.

Digging her nails into his belt, she
lifted her self up and licked her lips � like a cat that has been in the cream.
The power ballad was hitting its climax � no more foreplay.

The lower half of
her zipper opened � by her unpainted fingertips. His nimble, trained hands easily
slipped the buttons that made up the fly of his trousers. A great fistful of her glorious hair brought those
moist lips within an inch of his own. A flexible leg thrown high enough to rest
an ankle on his shoulder brought her nether lips within reach of his cock. The crescendo of the song�s crashing symbols
masked the cry that tore from her lips as he drove home.

Again.

A g a i n.

A g a i n.

He had been watching her for more than
an hour turn away one person after another. He had endured the sight of her
entwining herself with another woman. The process of shackling his need as she
lost herself in the music was a sore test.

NO MORE.

A strong hand on the small of her back
sought the wet tendrils of her hair. Finding and twisting the locks around the
back of his hand - her throat was exposed again. The rising and falling of her
breath was coming in shorter and shorter intervals. Fine points of sweat on her
upper lip and brow began to merge as her moans matched his.

Pushing her leg down to hear the high
heel clank to the floor, the music was about to change. His music. Her need.
His tempo. Her speed. Their desire.

Following her lead � for the moment � he
let her go until he was only holding her off the floor by one extended arm
before snapping her back into place. In that
one moment a wet, shiny cock was exposed for anyone who cared to look before it
was impaled in a velvet sheath that seemed to be custom made � her depth was a
perfect match for his length.

A crushing kiss was the only warning she
had before a hand tangled in her hair and another one settled below her arse to lift her only enough to drive his cock deep into her kittie. His tongue jousting with hers felt like
he was licking every part of her from the inside out. Every plunge and
withdrawal pressed against her clit. The pounding guitar riff and the
commanding lyrics of the current song were in perfect synch to the manic
pounding she was receiving. Everything felt too hot: her legs felt like they
weren�t going to support her, her dress felt like it was to prudish, she felt
like she was leaving her body.

To anyone one else, the black clad
couple on the dance floor looked like every other sexually charged couple in
the club. He had her in a tight embrace and she was still pumping her body to
the relentless rhythm the DJ commanded. The look of elation on her face when he
swooped her up and braced her hips against his stomach coincided to the
changing song. Sure she was riding a little low � but who wasn�t?

She was so close. So close. He was barely hanging on. Scooping her up
and making him straddle his hips tied up his hands but left him free to see her
face. Which was twisted up to the ceiling � to the spinning balls of lights.
Placing hot, open mouth kisses to the skin bared by her dress; the sheen of her
sweat picked up the changing colours and cast
shimmering hues around the wet edges of her hair.

This was always his favourite part � watching her unravel. The
intimate releasing and unveiling of her inner wanton woman � to know that she
was like this with him and no other. Only he knew the combination that would
set her flying.

Resting his forehead in the nest of
kisses he made on her chest, he hunkered down and reached for his Snitch.

The song hit its chorus.

Every light in the club went out.

The strobe lights came on.

The fog machine kicked into gear.

Hermione Granger felt Draco Malfoy�s cock touch that place inside her.

Again.

AGAIN.

Again.

Draco looked up as the
first tremors shimmied up his cock and rattled the cages around his heart.

This is what everything was worth - why
every price was met. To see his Hermione give herself
totally to the calling of their flesh � made possible only by the melding of
their souls.

The flashing strobe light made for a
sight he will recall for years � her teeth flashing in the silver light. Her
head thrown back, she sank down on his cock and her hair � a mass of tangles.
Sweat rolling down the sides of her neck and pooling in front of his face. Her mouth falling slack as she cried out her orgasm.

Slamming her hips down on his cock � her
orgasm slammed her body with such intensity that holding it in was impossible.
Looking up at the ceiling, another orgasm rocked her as she felt Draco pump. His release challenged his sense of balance. Her
breasts vibrated as he called out her name. The smell of their satiation
wreathed around them and shut out all other scents.

Watching from
his place in the booth, the DJ saw the couple sink to the floor with their
chests heaving and wry smiles on their faces. He watched the girl laugh and
plant kisses all over the platinum topped face. Knowing that he himself was at
half-mast, he looked to the bouncers and gave the signal: They only slipped
� no one�s hurt.

Draco was the first to
get onto his unstable feet. Glancing at the bouncers and seeing them along the
perimeter of the crowded floor � he looked to the DJ as he helped Hermione climb to her feet. Whispering in her ear, Draco pointed in the direction of the booth.

Sauntering over to the DJ with a smile on
her face, Hermione leaned against
the protective glass and slipped something into the Request Window with a saucy
wink.

�Thanks!�

Watching her clasp hands with the blonde-haired boy and
seeing them make their way through the club, he fingered his gift: a pair of
red panties that had a shimmering silver snake sewn onto the inside of the
crotch.
- 1
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Red Panties