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A Dream Of Reality	By : Daniexpress Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1369 -:- 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.

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She wandered through the crowd of overdressed, self important socialites and their stuffed shirt husbands. She knew most of them by name. It was her job to know. For three months, she’d been the ’journalist’ covering local events and the society column of the town newspaper.

She despised her job. It was nothing more than documenting rich people as they threw museum fundraisers that only ever made enough money to pay for the next fundraiser. In the mean time, they patted themselves on the back for being such pillars of the community, while the actual museum has gained nothing more than a small amount of publicity from having its name published in the community calendar.

She snapped a few pictures and wrote down a few names before seeking out the main attraction of today’s event, the new director of the historic mansion. Without having seen him before, she easily picked him out of the crowd.

Standing tall and straight, at least a head above the men surrounding him, he was hard to miss. He was easily twenty years younger than his companions His jet black hair and lean frame seemed to mock their balding gray heads and pudgy stomachs. She couldn’t help noting how serious he looked and mentally compared him to a certain brooding potions master.

His hair was a bit conservative for her tastes, but his fair skin and dark eyes more than made up for that little shortcoming. She wondered if he would grow his hair out as the last director had. The lovely old Victorian mansion he was taking over was a living history museum and many of the staff regularly dressed in period costume. Shoulder length hair on men was quite fashionable in renaissance fairs and living history museums.

With her eyes lowered, she bit her bottom lip, imagining him in a cloak, his long hair tied at the nape. He would be the perfect image of her fantasy lover.

A hungry expression was on her face when he first noticed her. As their eyes met, the corner of his mouth curved in a subtle but sardonic smile before he refocused his attention on the man before him. She stared after him, feeling a heat rise in her stomach and below.

It was an awkward moment for her as she realized she had nothing more to do but get a blurb from the director about how happy he was to be in his new position. Annoyingly, there seemed to be no lull in his conversation. She moved closer, hoping to break in. From her new vantage point, she could hear his mellifluous voice, stoking the fire in her abdomen. This just keeps getting better and better, she thought. He’s a Brit with a velvet voice. How perfectly like her favorite, fictitious professor.

Fortunately, one of the men engaging the new director noticed her hovering nearby and pulled her into their circle. He placed one fat hand on her wrist, the other on the small of her back, a bit too low to be completely innocent. ’Come here cutie, meet our new director.’ She stiffened at the way the little troll addressed her. Her strained smile never reached her eyes. The director picked up on this and smiled with amusement as he offered his elegant hand. Oblivious, the troll continued speaking. ’You should interview him for your paper. He comes to us from some very prestigious museums.’ With that, the old man patted her ass.

’I’m sure I’ll do that.’ She smiled pointedly.’’ But first, I really should get a picture of you and your wife.’ And in the next moment, she was waving the horrid little man’s spouse over to them.

*****

A week later she was sitting in the Director’s office waiting for her interview. It was late Friday afternoon and he was keeping her waiting. His secretary apologized, explaining that he was with a board member and would be there soon.

That had been twenty minutes earlier. She’d finished the tea, perused his book shelf, and now the museum was closing. Standing, she had just decided to reschedule when the tall, dark, man appeared.

’Have you eaten?’ He asked in lieu of a greeting.

’Not in the past six hours.’ She responded, wondering why she wasn’t just walking past the rude man.

’Good, let’s do this over dinner then.’ He said, grabbing a black overcoat from the coat tree and turning toward the door, seemingly expecting her to follow.

Surprised by the suddenness of his invitation (command?) and also distracted by the image of him in his long black coat, she hesitated.

He stopped after a few strides when she didn’t follow. Turning, he looked down his long, straight nose at her. ’Do you have other plans?’

’Uh.. No.’

’Then come along. I’m famished.’ He held out a hand as one would to a reluctant child. His taking her by the arm as she reached him had little to do with chivalry and everything to do with moving her along.

She was hyper-aware of his lank body beside her as she tried to keep pace with his lengthy strides. He released her only as they reached his car. As he opened her door, she could still feel the ghost of his absent hand on her arm.

She was impressed with his choice of restaurant. With no reservation, on a Friday evening, he managed to find a wonderful Cajun restaurant with a live jazz band playing in the lounge. The atmosphere was dark and intimate, the music was relaxing, and the food was exquisite. He ordered a lovely wine to compliment her etouffee and she was feeling warm and comfortable as they discussed his previous work.

Perhaps a little too comfortable. He discussed the various universities he’d taught at and museums he’d worked for. When he mentioned he’d just left a position with the Royal Maritime History Museum she couldn’t resist some suggestive double entendre.

’Hmmm,’ She teased. ’Explorers and Pirates, how exciting. I love a man who knows what a dirk was made for.’ She was referring to the long, thin dagger preferred by pirates.

His dark eyes fixed on her. ’Why it’s for thrusting and plunging of course. For driving into tender flesh.’ With a cold smile he asked ’Did I pass your little test?’

She could only blush in response before focusing intently on an apparently fascinating shrimp on her plate.

She behaved herself throughout the rest of dinner, asking him about the mansion. But as she listened to his velvety voice lecture about its history, she found she was distracted. She pictured him lecturing before a large class, keeping his pupils in line with that striking voice and those knowing eyes. She made herself squirm, imagining what happened to naughty co-eds who didn’t turn in their assignments on time.

If he noticed her distraction, he gave no indication. Still, he watched her intently as he spoke, making her feel that he was well aware of the effect he had on her.

After dinner, they returned to her car in the museum parking lot. He walked her to her vehicle and waited as she unlocked the door. As she was about to get in, he caught her arm. Pulling her to him, he lowered his mouth to hers in a slow, deliberate kiss.

As she stood, face tilted toward his soft mouth, she felt his hand travel up her arm and across her shoulder. His graceful fingers traced her collarbone before sliding around her neck. With his long fingers on the back of her neck, his thumb stroked her throat. The gentle combination of a threat and a caress had her pressing against him instinctively. Through their kiss, she heard him chuckle at her response.

Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth near her ear and whispered. ’So which is it? Are you a tease, or a tramp?’

She looked at the ground, hiding her face even though he couldn’t see her blush in the darkness.

With one hand, he grabbed her ass roughly, pulling her against him, letting her feel him, rigid beneath his trousers. The other hand moved from her neck to tilt her face toward him. ’I asked you a question.’ He hissed.

’I’m not a tease.’

’So you are...’

The sentence hung between them, waiting to be completed. Straining not to meet his fierce gaze, she murmured her response. ’A tramp.’

’Good girl.’ He purred, rewarding her with a kiss.

Releasing her, he turned and walked toward his car. ’Be here tomorrow, eight o’ clock.’ He called, without looking back.

She stared after him, burning with humiliation and desire.

*****
It was raining the next night, as she arrived at the museum promptly at eight. Seeing no one, she tried the door. It opened freely and she nervously stepped into the dark building. There was no indication of life from her place at the front door. She decided to check his office on the top floor.

As she made her way down the second floor hall, he stepped out of a room behind her, causing her to squeal in an embarrassing way.

He snorted in amusement. ’The electricity’s out.’ He explained, holding a lit candle as evidence.

In the yellow glow of the flame, she could see he was in costume. Black boots were visible beneath tight black pants that laced up instead of zippered. His white shirt was loose on his slim chest and billowy at the wrists. He looked like he’d stepped off the cover of a cheap romance novel she thought. But I like that in a guy. The only thing ruining the effect was the plastic badge over his heart announcing his name and job title to the tourists.

Guiding her again by the arm, he took her into the room he’d come from. It was a bedroom with a large sitting area. A fire was lit in the fireplace and it seemed he’d been heating a kettle over it. Within moments, they each had a fresh cup of tea steeping before them as they sat at a small, round table.

’I have work to finish.’ He said flatly. ’In the mean time, learn something.’ He tossed a book on her lap.

Her mouth open and closed with unspoken indignation. He saw none of it though, as he was back in his seat, looking through a thick file of archived newspaper articles. It was obvious he intended to ignore her for an indefinite period. It took only a minute for her to decide on a course of action.

Slipping a surreptitious hand into her purse, she pulled out a pair of her favorite toys. Tucking the two sets of handcuffs in her back pocket, she moved to his side of the table. He looked up in time to see her straddle his lap.

’Hello.’ He greeted, allowing her to kiss him. He took a moment to respond before languidly probing her mouth with his tongue. Too soon though, he was pulling away. ’I still have work to do.’

She was not to be deterred, sliding her tongue down his neck, she tugged the shirt from his trousers. Patiently, he allowed her to pull the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, though he made no move to encourage her. In fact, as she continued to explore his neck and shoulders with her mouth, he craned his neck to read his articles.

She slid down from his lap to the floor in front of him as her tongue licked and teased, dancing across his chest. As she pulled at the laces of his trousers, he continued reading. While his cock was hard, his demeanor was indifferent.

Climbing back onto his lap, she did her best to distract him with a strip tease and lap dance. Slowly, tantalizingly, she undressed, decorating the floor with her clothing. Still, he ignored her. This was become insulting. Frustrated, she decided to execute her back up plane.

’Are you amusing yourself?’ He teased, without looking away from the file.

Suddenly, with a ratcheting sound, a cuff closed around his wrist. Now she had his attention. With a tug, he realized he’d been chained to the chair. With one arm restrained and her weight on his lap, it wasn’t long before she managed to get his other wrist cuffed as well.

He smiled dangerously as she stood back, admiring her handiwork. ’You’ve had your little fun. Now it’s time to release me while I’m still in a forgiving mood.’

Smiling mischievously, she stepped back toward her pocketbook. When she turned back to him, she had a camera in her hand. She saw his true anger for the first time.

’Don’t you fucking dare.’ He snarled. He looked like a deadly jungle cat, teeth bared, cords visible in his neck and veins popping in his temples. And the whole while, he was half naked with an erection poking out of his period-accurate, costume trousers.

’Won’t this be wonderful for the museum newsletter?’ She teased. ’Meet your new director.’ He’d just bucked his hips in an attempt to stand when the split-second flash filled the room with white light. She burst out laughing as he realized he’d made the image even worse. Straddling his lap again, she kissed his neck as he shouldered her to push her away.

’Are you angry with me?’ She whispered in his ear.

’You have no idea.’ He growled.

’And yet,’ Her hand ran down to his lap. ’Your hard.’ Her fingers folded around his engorged shaft. ’What do you want to do to me?’

’I want to hear you scream.’

’You want to hurt me?’

’Yes.’

’Do you want to spank my bottom until it glows?’

’Yes!’

’Do you want to fuck me?’

’YES!’ He pushed up against.
.

’Alright then.’ She chuckled, as she released him from the fake cuffs by pressing a button he could have easily reached with his own fingers.

The fact that he’d been restrained with toys seemed to annoy him more and in his anger, he stood easily, with her on his lap. Crossing to the bed, he flung her, face down, onto the mattress. He was on her in a moment, pinning her with his upper torso. He brought his hand up for the first time, high above her soft, bare bottom, and brought it down fast and hard with an echoing clap.

Hearing her gasp and feeling her wriggle was satisfying, but not satisfying enough. He raised his hand and brought it down again, just as hard as on the other cheek. His handprints glared at him on her pale skin. He brought his hand down again and again, obliterating the handprints in a wide splash of red.

He spanked her for what seemed a long time, reddening her sensitive bottom. It become harder and harder for her to take. Her initial gasps had turned into small cries and then, to louder cries. Still he spanked her. When his arm tired, he randomly spanked and squeezed her tender skin. Panting, he dipped his fingers between her hot lips to feel how wet she was. And she was very wet.

He plunged his fingers into her roughly a few times, watching her part her knees and raise her hips to allow him access. ’Eager slut.’ He hissed, as he pulled her head up by her chin. She moaned as he removed his wet fingers and wiped them on her cheek. He watched with a dark expression as he pushed his fingers into her mouth, letting her lick them clean.

He slid his hand down from her mouth and onto her slender neck. Curling his fingers around her throat, he pulled her onto her knees. Kneeling behind her, his hard cock needed little guidance to find its way, but he hesitated, making her strain for him.

‘Say it, Slut.’ He ordered as he slid his head between her slick lips.

‘Please.’ She whimpered.

‘Louder! Please what?’

‘Please fuck me.’ She moaned loudly.

‘Give me the camera.’

‘Now?’ She gasped, incredulously.

‘If you want my cock, you’ll give me that camera.’ His voice was smooth and cruel despite the straining shaft between her legs.

She nodded mutely and crawled out from beneath him. Retrieving the camera from the table, she offered it to him.

‘Open it. Take out the film.‘

He wondered why she smiled timidly as she opened the camera. Holdng it up for his inspection, she confessed. ’It didn‘t have film.’

His mouth twitched as he took the camera from her and placed it on the floor beside the bed. He pushed her on her back and covered her body with his. ’You are an antagonistic little bitch aren’t you?’ He asked, pulling her knees up on either side of him.

She smiled wickedly as she nodded.

’I think you need to be taught a lesson.’ He aimed his cock for her wet slit.

’Probably.’ She said with mock solemnity.

’Spare the rod and spoil the child.’ With that, he plunged deeply into her, bringing a hand down on the side of her ass as he did. Her moan was his reward as she wrapped her legs around him, arching her back and pressing her hard nipples against his chest.

He drove into her again and again, building and stoking her desire with each thrust until he finally, he heard her scream as she came. Feeling her contract around him, he let himself release the tension he’d been holding on to for so long. Filling her deeply with his hot spurts, he collapsed on top of her.

In the stillness afterward, she listened to his heavy breath slow and fade. She thought he’d fallen asleep when she heard him speak again. ’You seem to be a particularly troublesome student. I think you're going to need many lessons.’

She smiled as she whispered into the darkness. ’Yes, Professor.’
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A Dream Of Reality