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Snape's Story	By : tbird1965 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 33390 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Complete. Het, solo, oral.

Chapter List
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“Now just sit here and don't move.” She had ordered him when they returned to her tiny house. “Don't come in until I call you. I need to set up a few things first.” His instructions were to then 'enter silently and ravage her.' His cock twitched as he tried to imagine what scenario she was arranging for them.

Dinner had been pleasant enough, although it had been hard not to order a drink. But that was more due to habit, wasn't it? He smirked, amused as he remembered how she had carefully maneuvered him so he was facing away from the bar when they were seated at the table. 'Did she really think he didn't notice?' No matter. It had made it easier, not having to stare at those tempting bottles of spirits all through the meal. He was grateful too that there had been no mention of his mandatory counseling, though he could tell she was worried. He knew he needed to do something and soon, but it was just easier not to think about it, to just enjoy being with her and not worry about his “problem”. And it really wasn't a problem anymore, was it? He wasn't drinking. He hadn't had a drink since he and Hermione had been together, almost two months now. The cravings had even gotten better, a little anyway. Though if he was being honest, it was only when he was with her and she kept him distracted from all the dark thoughts. When he was alone, the thoughts returned, along with the cravings.

He was almost done with his home remodeling project and he wondered what he would do to keep himself busy and distracted when it was finished. He wished he could brew. If he could do that he could lose himself for hours; stirring, changing, inventing, perfecting. But he wouldn't be allowed to brew again until he attended the mandated counseling sessions. It was a fucking never ending cycle of Ministry Bureaucracy that he could see no way out of, no way except......

“Fuck.” He muttered softly. How could he confide in anyone the horrors he had experienced? The atrocities that came with being a Death Eater? There was no one. No one he would burden with the horrible images he carried in his head, the screams that woke him from his sleep, sweating and shaking. It had been nice talking with George though. Someone who understood this overpowering need to drink until you couldn't think or feel anymore. He shook his head ruefully. George fucking Weasley. The two red headed trouble makers had both exasperated and amazed him with their creative brilliance during their school career. A tinge of guilt twisted his stomach when he remembered the ugly red scar peeking out through George's long hair. A scar he had caused.........

“Severus, I'm ready.” Her voice called from the other room, pulling him from his ruminations. Rising slowly, he pushed all other thoughts out of his mind, leaving only the beautiful, vivacious Witch waiting for him in the next room.

Pushing open the kitchen door, he felt the familiar tingle of magic swell around him. Glancing down, he saw that his clothes had once again been transformed into a reasonable facsimile of his black frock coat. Looking around, he grinned as he stepped into the dim interior of his Potions storeroom. She had obviously transfigured some of her living room furniture to accommodate the scene. Leaning back against his work table, he folded his arms across his chest and watched her as she carefully balanced on a ladder, organizing his Potion ingredients with careful precision. She was dressed again in her Hogwarts uniform and his cock hardened pleasantly when she reached up, her skirt rising to reveal the back of one creamy white thigh.

Mindful of her edict to remain “silent”, he gestured with his finger for her to continue when she paused to peer nervously over her shoulder at him.

'Let her wait, I'm enjoying the view.' He thought, as he reached down to rub the erection now straining against his trousers. A smirk curled up the corner of his lips when he heard the clink of two bottles hitting together. Her hands were shaking, either from nervousness or anticipation, or maybe a bit of both.

He was fully erect and throbbing pleasantly when he pushed himself off the table and approached her in two long strides. She jumped when he wrapped his left hand around her bare thigh, just below the hem of her skirt. Pressing himself against her, he reached over her shoulder, carefully switching two bottles she had sorted incorrectly. “Be mindful of your task Ms. Granger.” He breathed into her ear, his lips so close they tickled her flesh.

“Yes Sir.” She whispered, her voice a breathy squeak.

With his hand still gripping her thigh, he moved behind her and watched as she continued to sort and organize rows. Her hands paused briefly when he moved his thumb ever so slightly, caressing her soft skin. He stopped and waited for her to resume her task, before gently squeezing her leg and moving his thumb in a small circle.

Hermione's heart thudded in her chest and she struggled to keep her hands moving, sorting and arranging. His hand felt hot on her skin as he gently held her thigh, his thumb moving maddeningly slow across her flesh. Though the only part of his body touching her was his hand, she could feel how close he was standing behind her, if she shifted even a little, she would be flush against him. Heat flamed in her center as he tenderly, almost reverently stroked her thigh with his long fingers. His hot breath blew across the back of her neck as the fingers of his right hand settled on her other leg; touching, stroking, exploring. Her eyes fluttered closed and she bit back moan as his long index finger reached up and lightly touched the cotton center of her barely there thong knickers.

“Are you feeling faint Ms. Granger.” He growled softly into her hair, his hot breath blowing across her cheek.

“Uhhhh No Sir.” She opened her eyes and saw that she was gripping the edge of the shelf so tightly her knuckles were white.

“Then keep sorting.” The clipped, authoritative sibilance of his words, betrayed the feeling of his gently caressing hands, his right now reaching up to cup the curve of her arse.

With both her hands and her knees trembling she continued to sort and arrange, biting back a moan as his hands roamed over the bare skin of her behind, his long fingers slipping between her legs to brush against the now wet fabric of her thong. Cool air tingled her skin as he lifted her skirt and carefully tucked the hem into her waistband. She gasped audibly and gripped the shelf to steady herself when she felt his hot breath on her naked bum.

“Mmmmm.” She whimpered softly, her hands now gripping the ladder for dear life as his lips, tongue and teeth roamed over her flesh; licking, nipping, teasing. She gasped and almost tumbled off the ladder, when he grabbed the string of her thong in his teeth and tugged it off one hip, his other hand helping him to drag them down her thighs and off her legs. Holding her steady, he lifted one foot and negotiated it through the leg hole, leaving the other side to dangle off her shoe. Nudging her legs apart, he let his long fingers glide through her wetness, teasing and exploring her clit.

No longer even attempting to touch the forgotten potion ingredients, Hermione clung to the ladder and moaned softly as he rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs, his busy tongue licking and laving across her bum. She gasped loudly when he ran his tongue along between the cheeks and up the crack of her arse. Her legs begin to tremble and quake as he pushed her closer and closer towards the edge.

“Have you finished your sorting, Ms. Granger.” He growled in her ear, his finger now pressed inside her, thrusting in and out. Wrapping a long arm around her, he held her steady against him while reaching up underneath her skirt to rub at her clit. Not waiting for or expecting an answer, he trailed his lips down her neck to gently lick and bite the sensitive area between her shoulder and neck. She bucked violently against him, crying out incoherently when she came, a flood of wetness coating the palm of his hand. He pulled his hands out from underneath her skirt and gently guided her to turn around, holding her until her bum was firmly planted on a rung and her hands gripped the edge. She was still panting, her legs spread erotically when he backed away to lean against the work table.

Hermione gripped the ladder and struggled to control her breathing. His face remained impassive as his black eyes ranged over her. She was sure she looked a wanton mess, her face flushed and her legs spread at an ungainly angle. After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality could only have been a few moments, he stepped towards her and raised his left arm, presenting the tiny row of buttons to her. She frowned and glanced at her hands gripping the ladder, her thoughts written on her face as clearly as if she had spoken them. 'Well how am I supposed to do this, if I let go of the ladder I'll fall.' With a sigh and his patented 'sneer', he reached out and gripped her by the waist, holding her steady in his firm grasp. Her hands trembled as she reached up and fumbled with each tiny button. One by one, she pushed each tiny black button through it's corresponding hole. She gazed up at him with an almost triumphant look when she reached the last one, only to have her face fall again when he held up his other arm and another long row of tiny buttons. His face remained impassive as she slowly worked her way down the row, until the last one was unfastened. Making sure she was once again secure on the narrow ladder rung, he stepped back from her. Her eyes followed as he reached up and slowly untied the cravat at his neck. Long fingers began to work their way down his frock coat, slowly unfastening each button. When he was done, he shrugged out of his coat and laid it carefully across the work table.

Her heart pounded loudly as he reached up and slowly began to work the buttons of his crisp white shirt, pulling the tails loose from his black trousers. Leaving his shirt hanging open, he stepped purposefully forward and grabbed her wrists, pressing them up against the sides of the ladder. A tiny squeak of shock escaped her as his lips descended to her's in a passionate, but surprisingly tender kiss. Leaving her to grip the ladder, his hands roamed over her torso, while his lips continued to devour her. Before she knew it, he'd unbuttoned her white blouse and tugged down her cotton bra, his lips and tongue exploring and teasing her breasts and nipples. They were both breathing heavily, when he took a small step back and pushed her school skirt up to her hips, before reaching down to slowly unfasten his trousers.

He looked up, cock in hand, when she gasped his name. “Professor Snape?” He raised an eyebrow and nodded his head for her to continue. “I....I...I've never done this before.” She stuttered in a soft whisper.

“Then I will try my best to be gentle.” He growled, positioning himself at her wet opening and thrusting forward with his hips. His eyes flew open when he felt his cock pierce through the thin barrier of flesh and the flood of wet heat that followed. Nausea filled him and his erection wilted as he pulled back in shock and horror.

“Severus?” She asked, concerned at the look of revulsion on his face. “Severus? What's wrong? You didn't hurt me. It's only a Weasley product.” She called after his back as he bolted from the room.
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