Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Author Seeking Muse	By : Aany Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 15685 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 3 – A new direction?
Hermione groaned as she put her pen down, and rolled over onto her back, flexing her aching right hand. Her pussy was sodden, and the desire to strip naked and call Snape up to her room was overwhelming. She put her writing materials away, unthinking, afraid that she’d spill the ink, and in her current state of mind, vanish the entire story without a care. She sat on the edge of her bed, drawing in deep breaths, trying to focus. She was beyond horny and frustrated; she was delirious off of her own imagination. Unhooking her bra, and slipping off her panties, she walked around her room naked, checking the door and fireplace was secure, before walking to the window. She was high up, but she knew if the boys were flying then they might catch a glimpse of something. She was less worried about them seeing her naked, than, in shock, them falling off a broom and breaking open their heads.
No one was out on the pitch, and as the sun was starting to set, students were making their way back inside. 'Merlin, how long have I spent writing and daydreaming, dammit, I can’t miss dinner, but I have to ride something now!' Glancing around her room, she decided what she needed.
Unlike the standard dorm four poster bed, the Head Girl’s dorm had a stunning double bed, with a canopy over the top headboard, and smaller posts for the bottom end. When Hermione had been given the room, she was told she could do with it as she liked, as long as it was all repairable. Ridiculously prone to bouts of sensuality, the room was a mismatch of fur, silk and satin, with cotton for the practicality, lace for embellishment and wood hidden beneath layers of these materials, providing suitably hard surfaces for when necessary. Like now. The foot board of her bed was disguised under layers of materials to be nothing more than a footboard, however in removing the material, the wood had been sculpted to provide bumps and ridges, as well as small phallic shapes upright along the whole width of the bed. Straddling her footboard then, Hermione aligned her clit with one small phallus, tapped it with a forefinger, and cried out in pleasure as it vibrated against her sensitive nub.
Imagining Snape catching her riding her bed like this, it did not take long for Hermione to come, gasping and overwrought, wishing she could have had more, but nevertheless aware that this had taken the bite out of her desire and it’s control over her head. Scourgifying, dressing and checking herself in the mirror quickly, she ran out the door, locking it behind her, in order to meet Harry and Ron before they decided to try and find her.
***
Snape had stormed out of the library as quickly as possible, once his brain and his body were communicating again. There was nothing on his mind other than the intriguing Miss Granger, whose eyes had burned with passion whilst her voice promised hot, sticky, fantastic sex.
While it had been some time since Snape had tasted the fairer sex, it was by no means a rare occurrence, though the looming nature of a Dark Lord’s presence in anyone’s life is enough to make desire retreat into the gloomy depths of one’s mind, screaming. Thankfully, Dark Lords were dead, or at least far, far away from Hogwarts, therefore no longer obstructing anyone’s access to Severus Snape’s pants.
The problem is that Snape had never really entertained the notion of screwing a student, especially now that he was more than twice the age of the eldest ones. The oldest Slytherins now had a tradition of teasing him; unbuttoning shirts, missing underwear, bending over to distract him. They were welcome distractions too, some of the time. It’s by no means a stretch of the imagination to consider Parkinson a dog, or Bulstrode a troll, though Greengrass would be very entertaining if she looked less like Narcissa Malfoy. None of the other houses had ever shown any indication of harbouring a Snape-fetishist, until now.
As Miss Granger so eloquently put it, Merlin’s huge hairy balls.
As he pondered, he made his way automatically back to his quarters, successfully maintaining the image of a man not be crossed. The second his door was closed and his wards up however, Snape thrust his hand beneath his robes and took hold of his still half hard cock and groaned aloud as it jerked in his hand. Grasping his cock, he strode to his bedchamber, untangled himself from his robes and sat on a chair facing his bed, now rock hard and at full mast.
A part of him didn’t want a quick wank, all built up pressure and little imagination, but he knew that he rarely had the luxury of time in the middle of the day. Drawing up the image of Miss Granger, flushed and obviously aroused, and the sensation of the soft, heavy globes of her breasts pushed against his chest, 'that deep cleavage, those delicate plump lips, her tongue poking out to wet them, imagine them wrapped around this hot hard, oh, fucking gorgeous, wet mouth, around my hard cock, oh fuck, oh fuck yes, Merlin, gods, take it, Hermione, take it all! Yes!' Imagining her tongue flicking around his shaft, swirling around the head, her hands squeezing and rubbing expertly, playing with his balls and her clever fingers probing the sensitive junction behind… Snape crested the wave of sensation, groaning as he came, spurting his seed over his lap.
He was still panting as if he had ran the length of Hogwarts when the wards informed him that his godson has just crossed his threshold and would be in his quarters in a matter of seconds. Cursing mentally he waved his wand to remove all evidence of his ejaculate, and clothed himself. Feigning a headache he lay back on his chair, fingers pressing on the bridge of his nose, ears alert to the footsteps coming towards him. The door to his bedchamber opened, and the pale head of the scion of Malfoy peered inside.
‘Severus, are you quite well? A Sixth Year Slytherin told me that you had stormed to the dungeons in such a state that you terrified a pair of Hufflepuffs to hysterics! They’re getting Calming Draughts from Madame Pomphrey!’ Draco chortled.
‘Spare me your inane babbling Mister Malfoy, it quite unbecomes you. It will not be the last time I render a Hufflepuff distraught, so I am quite curious as to know why you believe I would care now?’ Malfoy smirked.
‘Because, someone said that you went off in a strop following an altercation with the Head Mudblood!’ Severus sneered.
‘Refrain from using such vulgar language in my presence, you fool! You know that if the Headmaster wishes it, you will never complete your final year!’ Malfoy paled.
‘Yes, sir. As I asked before, are you quite well?’
‘Simply succumbing to the inevitable headache following a conversation with our inestimable Head Girl, Draco. I will be attending dinner shortly.’
‘Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir.’ Draco withdrew quickly and quietly, knowing when to retreat in the face of his Godfather’s ire.
Once Draco was clear of his rooms, Snape sighed. This was going to be a difficult term.
**
Trying to look like you're not thinking about sex - with someone wholly inappropriate - in the presence of those who either don't believe you've ever had sex, or the person you somehow want to have sex with, was a harsh lesson that Hermione had never thought to attend. 'I need acting classes on how to lie. The master spy ought to be quite good at that, actually, I wonder if he'd teach me...' At which point, Hermione's rabid imagination took another wild tangent and she blushed, to the roots of her hair, at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
'Cor, Hermione, what's going on? Did someone slip a colour-changing potion into your Pumpkin juice?' Ron queried, through his food. Harry looked at Hermione with concern, waiting for her to respond.
'Um, no, I don't think so, Ron, why do you ask?' Trying to keep her face quizzical, she glanced over at him.
'You're a slightly lighter shade of pillar-box red, Hermione, you sure you're ok?' Harry responded.
'What? Oh, no, I'm fine, just a little warm, it was quite hot today, and the library isn't always cold. I'm just a bit warm, that's all!' Hermione babbled, flustered. Damn my fair skin...
'Is there any way that you three could please be quiet for once?' came a sarcastic drawl from behind Hermione. She jerked upright and whirled about in her seat. 'Some of us are trying to enjoy our dinner in peace, if you don't mind!' Hermione's face flushed anew as her eyes came level with Professor Snape's waist. She couldn't stop her eyes flicking down to his crotch, and then up, to his eyes. He had caught her looking, shit! If possible, she flushed further, positively aware that she resembled a postbox. She wanted to turn away, to hide, and stop the continuous, random, insane, ideas that popped into her mind when she thought about his clothes! Argh, concentrate!
'Apologies, Professor. The boys haven't seen me much this afternoon, and are naturally overly excited after sunshine and sugar. I'll try and control them.' Maintaining as officious a posture as possible, Hermione looked up at the Professor to see whether he'd now leave. He did, after his eyes darkened a little at the reminder of what Hermione was doing alone earlier, and his lip curled in a near smirk at the idea of Hermione controlling her boys. He then flushed; two spots of colour on his cheeks! And then he left.
While the boys were congratulating Hermione on her rapid dismissal of that overgrown bat Snape, 'Professor, Ron! For goodness sake!' Hermione's mind was running wild, heedless. He had flushed. He had blushed, when he thought of her. Oh my god, Snape, he'd been thinking of her, in sexy thoughts, after their little altercation. A part of Hermione's brain shut down, lost to the pleasurable pastime of Snape and sexy games in bed, while another part tried to figure out how she was going to get herself there. In his bed.
'Boys, I'm done! I have work to finish, so I'll see you tomorrow!' Hermione took a last bite out of her forgettable supper, and rose to leave the table. Now thoroughly involved in another exposition of Snape and Slytherins and their sneakiness, Harry and Ron waved absent-mindedly. Glancing over at the Head table, Hermione's eyes locked onto the Potions Professor's, and for a millisecond, they were back in the Library, flush against each other, both aroused beyond belief, and he was going to kiss her.
Then she turned and walked away.
**
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