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An Accidental Affair Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 29007 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
A/N: Oracle – I really love how much you felt the last chapter. Everything is getting deeper. ‘Did you mean trailed off?’ – I think I mean tailed off but I probably should check as I’ve used it a few times. ‘Do it, do it, do it! Thrusting into a vague smirk sounds delicious.’ – LOL! I love the cheer squad. ‘Aaaaaaand my heart palpitations just blew up the EKG.’ – I know someone who could fix that for you – he might be able to fix a few other things too ;). ‘I was watching The Sandlot yesterday’ – another one I don’t know – sounds like something else I need to check out. ‘Word pimp Snape’ – that’s how I think of him now. ‘Is she hearing his? Is he really saying the "prose" out loud? Don't tell me! What is going on? Don't tell me that either! – Bwahahah – I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’. ‘I know you have lots of prostate hyperplasia on your plate’ – I really don’t know what to say to that. It sounds like a Hannibal Lecter meal – with some fava beans and a nice chianti (you’ll have to finish the final bit, I can’t spell it).
LeWyKi – ‘MA studies’ – you are a glutton for punishment. PhD next? ‘The results also managed to practically reverse my initial hypothesis’ – as you say, nothing wrong with that. ‘Stories with little to no magic in their setting’ – yeah, I guess I see the magical parts as adding a fun element to a normalish relationship rather than being the focus but I know what you mean. I loved your dinner date criticism of relationships, perhaps writing a sex book together might be a measure of longevity? I think the same about job interviews, there should be some far more onerous task required to measure aptitude than a few rehearsed questions. Thanks for pointing out the extra ‘had’ – please keep pointing these things out. One downfall of trying to get chapters up quickly is that I sometimes miss these things. ‘The intrigue is back - greetings, old friend!’ – Hahah – can’t have a good SS/HG plot without it! And I think you’re right, there don’t seem to be many complaints coming from Hermione . . . quite . . . yet. ;)

Chapter 13 – Eng Ongewollte Affair
Whilst she was enjoying the sensation of both smooth palms inching down her thighs, gradually shedding her tight denim skin, the thought of divesting him of his forbiddingly formal attire, peeling him like a ripe fruit was just too enticing for Hermione. Easing forward, she pushed her jeans and knickers down in one languorous thrust that left her bare buttocks waving gratuitously in front of his trousered cock. Standing, she kicked her clothing off together with her shoes before turning to instantly feel her bare skin being flayed by the heat of his predatory gaze. Clearly the bum wiggle had had the desired effect—even if it did leave her feeling like she was only moments from spontaneously combusting.
She approached him, smirking inwardly at her own audacity. Was he aware that the hunter was about to become the hunted? The vigorous nature of their prior union, combined with the steamy effusion that poured from the cubicle behind her left him looking lightly glazed and rather juicy. Those lips and the moist sheen dappling them were still calling strongly to her but there was no way that even the courageous Hermione could go there.
He remained leaning casually against the wash basin, legs crossed, not-so-casual erection jutting like a second spout, so Hermione took the opportunity to move in and straddle him, working her way up until her damp pussy was brushing his thighs. His hands were propped either side of the front rim of the basin, elbows hanging nonchalantly despite the swelling tension in his chest. Again, she was reminded of a panther, deceivingly placid but wild underneath, coiled and ready to spring.
She needed to interject before he made his move and she became the helpless prey—a role she would be more than willing to accept of course.
“She gravitated toward the object of her intrigue, unable to ignore the pull at her belly, drawing her forward with restless fingers,” Hermione murmured, skating her fingertips up the smooth front of his shirt, slithering over the contours of his lean muscles before stopping to grasp his top button.
“His eyes, the blackest of orbs, seemed to mirror her intrigue, glimmering faintly as the tables very slowly began to turn.”
The corner of Snape’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly before he dipped his chin toward his chest to further intimidate the fingers that might have been restless but were also shit-scared and trying their best not to tremble against his billowing breast.
Hermione released the top button and froze, still clutching the fabric. His eyes were locked with hers, his expression dangerous, daring her to proceed, to venture closer.
These are your words, ‘Mione. He’s accepted your offer of help. Now you need to follow through. Keep going!
It was true. He had been more than content to ply her pussy with phrase after phrase of beautifully turned prose. She might not be quite as talented a wordsmith as he was but she had a few linguistic tricks up her non-existent sleeve. And she was a Gryffindor after all. She’d survived his fantastical fingering and plundering pussyquakes. What more could he shock her with?
Steeling herself, she slid her fingers down to the next button and opened it before tentatively leaning in, exhaling a soft trail down his breast bone before placing her lips against the warm skin of his chest. His muscles strained beneath her trembling caress and she could imagine him gripping the basin. Whilst he had just fingered her to a very satisfying orgasm, she was struck by the fact that both of them were already hypersensitised again to one another’s tactile advances—it always felt like the very first time with him.
Was it because they didn’t really know each other at all—the thrill of the unknown? Or was it just a lingering symptom of their past association, the Professor/student relationship that had never completely resolved? Or could it be the more unsettling notion that they were genuinely intrigued by what they were discovering about one another?
Hermione had been trying to fight such a suggestion since he’d left her floating on the edge of oblivion the previous day. But at that moment, snaking out her tongue to lick the tip of one tight nipple, she knew that she had never been more attracted to another human being as she was to the man who was now pulsing with powerful restraint beneath her. She might well have him all wrong but Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that Snape wanted her as much as she wanted him. She also knew that he could easily turn her into a pile of limp Gryffindor feathers as he’d threatened to do way back at the beginning, but was clearly holding back, letting her explore.
Confidence growing with that thought, as well as the intoxicating proximity to his faintly rippling skin, she undid further buttons, planting wet kisses down his deliciously twitching abdomen as her legs buckled under her, her pussy sliding down his wool-clad legs. And when the brief dip of her tongue into his naval elicited a guttural groan dredged up from somewhere around his bollocks, she finally took the opportunity to grasp his trousers and pull the buttons apart, reaching into the folds to deliver his magnificent cock from its less-than-worthy confines. She could think of a much more appropriate place for it. Actually more than one.
You know what happened last time, ‘Mione!
Yes, but he’s nowhere near my pussy now, I can focus on—Merlin!
She suddenly realised that he’d begun gently sliding his knee against her pussy, rubbing at her clit.
Clearing her throat, she grasped his silken cock in both hands and lifted her head, stroking the tip of her nose against his length as she addressed him.
“She welcomed the velvety warmth of his shaft, firm and pulsing with his lifeblood.”
Eyes not deviating from his, she lifted her chin and licked over the smooth head, lingering on the slit, his jaw going slack and his eyelids shuttering as she increased the wriggling pressure before sliding away.
“She felt it as a gnawing hunger in her core, a desire to worship and please him through his cock. To suck his seed out for herself. For her own gratification.”
This time her words clearly got to him and a soft moan escaped his throat as his brow furrowed. Her eyes closed as she took him in her mouth. For some reason she felt more prepared and managed to get him deeper inside her. Beneath her, she felt him easing his thighs apart and then his hands were on her—one grasping the back of her head and the other against her cheek, guiding her. She could have really done with the help last time so was now more than receptive to his inflections and ministrations, letting him move her up and down his cock as he reciprocated with shallow measured thrusts into her mouth.
And as she felt him stretching her, testing her limits, she just knew he was enacting her classroom fantasy from the oral sex chapter. The thought made her groan and suck at him harder.
“I’m finding your mouth more and more agreeable,’ he breathed above her, his fingers curling around her chin.
Yep, straight from that fucking chapter.
Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She was more than open to the role reversal but deep down she knew that he was orchestrating everything anyway. He knew what she wanted, how she would respond and could play with her until she’d been reduced to a babbling fool. He wasn’t cold though, not distant nor objective. Far from it. He was as open and vulnerable and committed to the act as she, but without the embarrassment, without the fear. She was desperate to know where it hailed from.
But she was even more desperate to have his cock inside her and no longer cared about how and where it happened. He’d been quite forthcoming with everything she’d suggested so far but it had all been done under the flimsy guise of furthering their writing for the book. She wanted to believe that the book wasn’t his only motivation, but at the same time she didn’t feel ready to shatter the façade in case she discovered that it really was the only thing holding their unusual relationship together.
Releasing his cock from her swollen lips, she clutched the rough fabric of his trousers, dragging them down to his ankles before pulling off his boots and tossing them over her shoulders. Standing before him, arms held limply by her sides, breasts shuddering slightly with her laboured breathing she finallly spoke,
“I think it might be time to . . . address the water scene.” Her voice sounded strained and more than a little desperate.
With a single downward stroke of his nose he concurred, but it looked like a formality, like he’d been waiting for her to give up on her attempts to seduce him and return to the comfort of working under his practised tutelage.
He reached out with both hands, placing them lightly on her thighs before sliding them in a prickling caress up to her hips, then around to hook under her buttocks. Lifting her easily, he brought her onto his lap, wrapping her thighs around his waist and her pussy lips around the shaft of his cock.
“Merlin’s fucking balls,” she moaned, closing her eyes as his unyielding measure seared between her lips, grinding her clitoris like a pestle of flesh.
She heard the chuckle grinding deep in his throat. It wasn’t a sound she’d ever heard before and it shocked her enough for her to prise open her lids to catch the end of a sexy smirk. He was clearly rather pleased with himself even if he was pretending not to be. He continued to rock against her but held her hips tilted forward so her upper body hung away from him. The way he was stimulating her was doing all sorts of things to her face that she would much prefer to have buried against his shoulder. Instead she was propped at an angle for him to appraise her, observing every flicker, twinge and furrow, catching every sigh and whimper that fluttered from her lips. He just seemed to enjoy watching her.
“Professor—Severus . . . please,” she moaned, her hands clutching at his biceps, which were straining rhythmically as he dragged her hips into him.
“Your words, Miss Granger,” he admonished.
The only words screaming through her mind at that point were ‘Fuck me!’ but she suspected he wanted a little more than that.
“She felt his cock stirring at her core, tugging at her need, enticing her to finally open up to him. And she did so. Willingly.”
She couldn’t make it any more fucking obvious than that.
And it seemed to be enough. He finally stood with her still wrapped around him and approached the steaming cubicle, sliding the door aside before stepping under the roaring spray. The hot blast that pounded her head and shoulders, rolling like thunder in her ears as she clung to his strong arms, made her suddenly feel like she’d stepped into another life—one without misery, without pain or poverty, without a past to disown. She felt warm, protected, alive and . . . wanted. She also felt like she might be setting herself up for a calamitous fall. But she intended to get in one hell of a fuck before it happened.
And it started, as all good things do, with him dropping her to the tiled floor, thrusting her against the cold glass and pushing her legs open to slide two fingers into her pussy. His other hand was on her cheek, his thumb prising insistently at the corner of her mouth before entering to stroke her tongue in time with his thrusts into her hole. She sucked at he plunged, mainly because it was deliciously erotic and tasted like him but also because she wouldn’t have to give him too many words while it was in there; her brain was, after all, rapidly turning into warm mush.
She felt his knee hook under hers, sliding her leg up the glass, exposing her further before inserting a third finger, stretching her with slow, deep ingressions aimed at preparing her for the Colossus of Cocks, which was still very much the elephant in the cubicle. Would she actually be able to fit him inside her? She’d been with guys of all sizes before but this was, without a doubt, the most significant—in every way.
He worked on her pussy, steadily and with great patience until she was heavily lubricated and gasping from every orifice then, to her surprise, he suddenly spun her around, hooking one arm under each thigh before lifting her off the tiles and placing her feet against the glass.
She briefly wondered what it would look like to someone who walked in and saw the impression of two feet half way up the shower wall, before realising that they would probably be more concerned by the sound she was now making as the head of his cock squeezed into the tight rim of her pussy, gradually burying itself inside her.
“Severus!” she whined, her head pitching back against him as she dug her fingernails into his forearms.
“Relax.” That low rumble in her ear instantly melted the tension as he continued to ease his way in. She was already feeling ridiculously full but knew he was probably only half way or less. Her pussy entrance burned but her insides were very much enjoying making him welcome, shifting, squeezing and adapting to accommodate him. Hermione felt like sending some sort of message to her twat not to get too excited with the interior re-design—he wasn’t moving in for good.
But fuck it really did feel good!
Eyes closed, she leaned into him, letting him do all the work of incrementally filling her while she did all the work of etching this divine memory into her mind for future masturbation reference. It might have to last her a hell of a long time.
After squeezing a long train of measured thrusts into her, she finally felt his head butt against her cervix, a jolt that felt so deep and complete she would have been happy for him to just remain there, completely still, holding her, filling her, the steady stream of water cascading over them.
At least she thought that was what she wanted until he started moving. And then he redefined what happiness was.
One thing she realised about a massive cock was that it didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. It was all there, every bump and ridge, reaming against her walls. And it felt fucking incredible. He started off deep, working her core and nudging her cervix to shake the very depths of her womanhood.
And her moans seemed to come from the same place—deep and raw, reverberating around the small glass chamber against the fading background patter. Finally releasing her nails from his forearms, she slid her hands down to his buttocks, feeling his taut muscles working to drive his cock into her with increasingly lengthy thrusts.
“Shit, that’s good,” she murmured, marvelling at how incredible it felt to be at both the external origin and internal termination point of each beautifully timed swing of his hips.
“Is that your entire literary contribution, Miss Granger?” he murmured, his lips against the shell of her ear.
She groaned as he thrust deeper again. How did he expect her to contribute anything meaningful when she felt her innards about to capsize—if that was even a thing?
“She . . . she . . . uhhhh.”
He’d suddenly shifted angles and was forcing the ridge of his head even more emphatically against her G-spot.
“Do you need more . . . inspiration?” His voice felt so close, almost cosseted in the chamber of her ear.
She nodded dumbly.
Right, ‘Mione it’s your own fault if you explode after this.
He started muttering low rhythmic incantations but it wasn’t until something suddenly snaked into the cubicle that she realised what was happening. The spray nozzle from the bath had entered the shower cubicle and was now weaving between her legs like a cobra. He guided it with a constant stream of utterances and as she watched it in wonder, he uttered the final incantation which caused it to blast a solid jet of spray against her clitoris.
“Oh . . . my . . . God!”
Hermione felt him brace against her as her legs involuntarily jerked against the glass with the shock. But it wasn’t long before he was plunging into her with increased vigour, his balls slapping against her pussy as he bottomed out. Amongst the moans and grunts signifying his effort to fuck her even more comprehensively than she’d hoped, he would occasionally mutter a word to adjust the position and angle of the undulating head to pummel all around and over her throbbing clit.
She was surprised she’d lasted this long. It was probably why he’d made her come earlier. If he’d intended this type of treatment, he must have known she would have been down for the count in no time flat. As it was, the pressure building inside her was tremendous and, judging by the grunts that were emanating from him in quick succession, he was also gearing up to blow.
She grasped his buttocks even tighter as his muscles jerked rhythmically under her fingers, his cock delving into her constricting channel as her clitoris was relentlessly peppered with the stinging spray.
“Gods! Severus,” she cried out as her whole body seized before jerking and writhing with her seismic convulsions around his pumping cock. She felt his rigid column even more strongly as her muscles cramped and squeezed against it, sucking greedily at him. And then she heard the sound that made her orgasm surge again—his guttural roar as he came inside her, his cock spilling its seed, over and over again, warm liquid desire flooding into her depths. And despite the uncontrollable waves that continued to roll through her, she felt herself trying to hang onto it, to draw his come up inside her and keep it there. Why? She couldn’t even say.
And she also couldn’t say why, when she finally dropped to the tiles and turned to look at him, all she could manage was, “Sorry about the words. I hope I was of some . . . help.”
She was equally unable to explain his response—his palm sliding down her cheek and then away.
“You have been . . . most . . . helpful.”
Something about the way he said it, wistful, almost sad, made her wonder exactly what he meant.
- 12
- 13
- 14
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An Accidental Affair *Complete*

An Accidental Affair Complete