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His Ravenclaw Wife
By : EllieDarling
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female
Views: 7046 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: 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
- **Disclaimer** That which is JKRowling's genius is not mine. I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.
Marble, gold, and expensive lace; mahogany, silk, and crystal: opulence and grandeur permeated the manor. Every niche, every corner of the house spoke of old money; of blood money. She had not been born into affluence, though she was pureblooded, but had married exceptionally well. She was a Ravenclaw; after all, she was very intelligent, very shrewd, and very cunning. She always got what she wanted because she was smart enough to make things happen-happen her way. She had earned the house, using her exceptional talents to land herself an exceptional husband, and she was quite accustomed to basking in her own triumph.
She always knew how to pick the maids. She could always read them and always knew if they were the kind she was in the habit of employing; those remarkably thorough young women. The new maid looked on shyly as her pale mistress tended to her own toilette. The mistress had bathed and perfumed herself, creamed and powdered, and sat brushing her long, silvery hair in endless strokes, humming to herself. She wore only a fine white silk robe, open to bare her breasts, and she proudly exposed herself to the soft light.
The maid was unnerved by her mistress- though she appeared delicate, her presence was overwhelming. After dinner each night, mistress and maid would adjourn to the lady’s dressing room to prepare her for her husband’s attentions. The room was filled with priceless antique furnishings- the vanity counters solid marble, the gilded mirror almost filled a wall, and yet, the lady seemed as comfortable and confident while perched on the tiny three-hundred year old spider-legged vanity bench as a Turkish whore might while draped across harem pillows.
Zella watched the maid’s eyes in the mirror and began to test her. She sighed deeply, allowing her breasts to rise and fall, and measured the maid’s reaction. The girl’s eyes grew wide and focused on the pale globes, the soft translucent skin. Zella chuckled softly and allowed her breasts to echo her laughter. The maid shifted on her feet. Zella draped her long, white gold hair over her shoulder, and allowed her knuckles to graze the side of her breast. The maid made a soft mewling noise. Zella’s nipples tightened. The maid’s eyes did not waver, and her breath became shallow. Zella’s eyes darkened.
“Are you alright?” Zella inquired in her husky voice, barely above a whisper.
“Chipper miss,” the maid replied softly, then shyly added, “you’re just so beautiful.”
“Do you want to touch me?”
The young maid first looked shocked, then embarrassed, and finally, a glimmering of curiosity settled on her features, but she made no reply.
“Come here, dear sweetness,” Zella invited gently and warmly. The maid looked torn for a moment, but began to approach shyly, wringing her hands in front of her. She came to stand behind her mistress, and met her eyes in the mirror. Zella smiled calmly, and held her left hand over her shoulder, “Give me your hand,”
The maid smiled tentatively and slowly put her own hand in Zella’s. Zella’s skin was warm and smooth; her hand wrapped around the young maid’s and brought it to the underside of her breast. The maid closed her eyes and felt the weight of Zella’s flesh.
“Don’t, darling, don’t close your eyes. Watch yourself.”
The maid opened her eyes and stared hard at her own reflection. Her eyes were violently brilliant; aflame with desire and heat. She stared at Zella, whose slow smile spread, encouraging the girl. The maid placed a hand on each of Zella’s shoulders and, with incredible patience, slid the white silk of her glowing skin. It pooled at her waist, shimmering in the light, and revealing the contours of her back. The girl could not take her eyes off of the mirror as her hands filled with Zella’s breasts. She stroked the skin softly, running her hands up and down the sides of the other woman’s breasts, circling their peaks, savoring their curves.
As the maid continued her exploration of Zella’s breasts, her fascination grew with their weight, their softness, their movement. She experimented with gentle petting, rough fondling, twisting, and stretching. She moved to sit on the bench behind her mistress, wrapping her legs around her’s. She placed her cheek on the other woman’s shoulder, and pressed her stomach to her back. Zella’s gaze burned into the mirror as her maid’s eyes followed her own progress, Zella gloried in every sensation, imagining more, desperate for more. She could feel her taunt breasts through the soft fabric against her back. The girl was so innocent, so fresh and curious. Zella concentrated on the heavy heat growing in her belly. She arched against the girl, rolled her head, and spread her legs on the bench. She was breathing deeply, her skin on fire, anticipating more.
“Strip!”
The maid’s hands stopped, she looked up and met Zella’s eyes, shocked. She was completely still for a minute, then stood slowly. She removed her clothing piece by piece until she stood naked and vulnerable to appraisal, but Zella’s eyes never moved from the maid’s and she didn’t even look at the girl’s body. Zella smiled, “On your knees, now, dear pet.”
The maid dropped to her knees.
“In front of me, come on.”
The girl froze again, and looked bereft for a moment, but Zella’s steady gaze reminded her of her own deep desire. Zella moved the bench farther away from the vanity, and the maid came before her, on her knees and silent. Zella smiled at her, coyly, and whispered, “Come now, sweet dear, don’t tell me you don’t want to. I know you want to.”
Zella was hot and wet against the girl’s tongue as she slowly lowered her head. She lapped slowly of the honey and filled her mouth with the taste of a woman’s power. She became intoxicated, heady, drunk on lust and broke into a sweat. The air of the room was cool against her naked flesh. Zella grabbed two fistfuls of the maid’s hair but she needn’t have as the girl pressed herself passionately into Zella’s belly. Shudders wracked Zella’s body as the girl’s tongue slid over her clit. Zella threw her head back in a cry of triumph and her eyes flashed as they met his in the mirror. - You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
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