Smoke and Fire | By : Skool Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 7683 -:- 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. |
Well, I think
this is the one you guys have been waiting for. *dirty grin*
------
Raindrops
keep falling on my head
Hermione
closed the door behind her, feeling like she was walking on clouds.
They had kissed.
Okay, it had not been the most passionate kiss, but nevertheless their lips had
touched.
She knew, knew for fact, that there was chemistry between them. What she did
not understand was his reluctance. She was sure he had wanted it to happen as
badly as she had. He had made the first move to kiss but then he had somehow
shied away from more.
Maybe he feared that she might have second thoughts about it?
It was a difficult situation after all.
He was not her professor anymore and he had turned out to be quite a gentleman
as well.
She was not his student anymore, at least not in the academic way.
She grinned.
Next time she’d somehow communicate to him that she was absolutely sure about
the two of them being together.
The thought of him instructing and initiating her to the art of physical love
was st tst thrilling. She had already gone through a more than a dozen
different scenarios of how he would make love to her for the first time. Some
were sweet, slow and sensual. Others were very direct, rough and passionate.
For the life of her she just could not figure out which one she would like
best. The kiss had proved that she liked the sweet side of him a tiny bit more.
Maybe it was merely the unexpected tenderness in this man which had caught her
by surprise.
She could help a smile when she undressed and got ready for bed. It took a
while until she fell asleep. Her mind could not quite come to rest, as his
face, his warmth and his voice followed her into her dreams. It felt so much
better when reality fed imagination than vice versa.
----
Snape
slowly walked towards the castle, needing time to analyse this evening
thoroughly.
The kiss had felt incredibly good, but there was the nagging fear that he had
made a complete fool of himself on the way to it.
He had stammered.
He had been unsure.
He was an abysmal kisser due to the lack of experience. The women he had wanted
to kiss had turned him down. Soon he had successfully killed the desire of
kissing someone.
When Hermione had pushed the stakes a bit higher, he had needed all his self
control to remain fully engaged in the activity. A part of him had wanted to
run and hide like the Victorian maiden he had accused her of being weeks ago.
Snape had to admit to himself that it would be easier to be honest to Hermione
about his sexual experience --- as much as he loathed the idea. He had assumed
the role of the experienced man. Or rather, she had assumed he was a
sophisticated lover.
Not like
you refuted that, did you?
What was he
supposo doo do? Tell her like it really was? He would die of shame. He was a
Slytherin. The Head of Slytherin, for Merlin’s sake. He would worm his way out
of that. Somehow…
Maybe she would find out anyhow.
These thoughts dampened his spirits considerably. More than this Rickman guy
had.
He also found that he had been way too nice.
He would have to be careful not to make a habit out of being nice.
He had a reputation to loose.
No, he simply did not want to set tongues wagging because he turned into mush
jelly.
Snape knew perfectly well how many people thought he was such a miserable ass
because he did not get laid. Not far from the truth, but not completely
accurate either.
That night Snape went to bed with the kiss on his mind. The next days he went
out of his way to deduct house points. He even managed to reduce two Ravenclaw
first years to tears.
Ha! Ravenclaws!
It was easy enough to do this to Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaw students were a
different brand.
The satisfaction that sprang from all this was as delicious as Hermione’s
presence had been. He was most pleased that he had not lost his groove over
feeling so attracted to her.
On Thursday evening he sat down to write to her at long last. He had been
pondering on what he should write.
First he had thought about copying a sonnet, adding a message in the post
script. He ruled that one out as sappy right away. A red hot love letter was
completely out of question as well. There was no way he would expose himself to
her like that. He was too frightened to put his feelings into words. It just
did not suit him. In addition to the that, the part of him that felt so
strongly for the girl was too much of an unchartered territory to start
exploring it now. The bonds between her and him were still delicate.
To busy his hands, he took a piece of parchment, dipped his quill into the ink
and waited for his cunning mind to come up with something brilliant.
How about another invitation to an event?
He fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair.
She had already done a terrific job with the night out at the theatre.
Impossible to best that. He did not have much to offer in that respect, did he?
He glared at the blank piece of parchment which was obviously mocking his lack
of imagination.
He was a
reclusive Potions Master and not some Don Juan with bedroom eyes, damn it!
The fingers
of his left hand started drumming on the desk impatiently.
So another night out was out of question. The usual ‘romantic crap’ was not an
option either. Firstly, he had only a faint idea of what it all involved.
Secondly, because it was romantic crap. All he wanted was to enjoy her
company for a couple of hours, whether it be in the dungeons or in the shade of
a tree --- which was not likely at that time of year in England.
He grumbled.
The piece of parchment was still pure, accusing him of being a dunderhead at
matters of the heart.
He forced himself to focus on what he knew about her.
She loved books.
The idea of reading old tomes about Potions or the Dark Arts to her seemed not
quite the right thing to suggest. She would sit in his lap and he’d read out
loud.
He shook his head. The thought was appealing but he could not quite figure out
why she would enjoy that. She knew how to read, she did not need help there. He
smirked.
Alright
Severus, think again.
She was a
wonderful woman.
Yes,
Professor Snape. Quite right but not helpful.
His thoughts
drifted back to their first date. She had seemed to know exactly what she
wanted. Unlike him she had not been reluctant to let it show. Snape smiled a
smile only a Slytherin was capable of and scribbled away.
-----
Hermione
had spent most of the week waiting for a Hogwarts owl to deliver a letter from
the dungeons.
Her everyday routine was pleasantly dimmed by the time she and Snape had shared
last Saturday and by the anticipation of what would happen.
On Wednesday evening however, she was torn between anger and fear.
Was he
making her wait on purpose?
Had the second thought finally got the better of him?
She tried
to placate herself: He had teaching duties and he was Head of House. Surely he
had a good reason for not being able to write first thing in the morning on
Monday.
The long awaited owl arrived on Friday.
She fumbled so nervously with the parchment that it fell to the ground, causing
her to swear in a very unladylike manner.
The message was almost disappointingly short, but her heart jumped with joy
nevertheless.
My lady,
please check your door at 7 pm sharp on Saturday for a special delivery.
Make sure, you’re dressed to go out.
-Severus
Hermione frowned at the message. It was very short and sweet in a way she could
not fully determine.
She should have known that she would not write her a red hot love letter,
shouldn’t she? He was Severus Snape after all.
-Had it really taken him five or six days to compose a message that consisted
of barely more than twenty words? The image of Snape sitting at his desk,
around him a pile of scrunched up pieces of parchments with discarded attempts
sprang up involuntarily in her mind. She grinned and made the mental note to
try and find out how many attempts it had actually taken him to write it. Her female
intuition told her that the labour of giving birth to this letter had been
significantly longer than an average person may have guessed.
------
On Saturday
she opened the door to see Snape standing in front of it. She smiled.
“Severus,
come in.”
He nodded
and stepped inside.
“So where
are we going?” Hermione asked.
“You’re the
lady, so you get to decide.” he offered.
Hermione
looked at him sceptically.
“What if I
want to do somethinu wou would hate?”
“Well then,
tell me where you’d like to go and I’ll tell you if I like it or not.”
She had the
distinct feeling that he was trying to get out of making the decision.
Typically
male!
“Did you bother
at all to think of something you’d like to do with me?” she asked with an air
of impatience.
His face
slipped for a break of a second and revealed something that made the woman in
her stir. Hermione could not stifle a grin.
Yeah,
well I knew about that one already.
“We could
aparate somewhere and stroll around … or find a nice place to eat. However, I
prefer it to be out of the realms of the Wizarding World for several reasons.”
Hermione
nodded. He was right, no one needed to know they were dating, at least not yet.
“Well, I’d
say we simply go somewhere. I just want to spend time with you. Could be on a
windy oil-rig in the North Sea or in a cosy restaurant, it doesn’t matter.”
Snape was
surpd tod to hear she felt the same as he did and had no inhibitions to talk
about it.
“So, is it
going to be the oil-rig or the restaurant?” he asked with an inclined head.
She laughed
heartily.
“The
restaurant for today. I know a nice place not too far from here.”
“The
restaurant it is, my lady.”
It was only
then that he realised he was caught in the middle of the dating game he had
wanted to avoid. There seemed no way around it.
-----
They talked
about Hogwarts and about Hermione’s training. She had decided to pursue a
career in the experimental Charms and Transfiguration department.
Snape could not refrain to throw in a comment about ‘foolish wand waving’,
which Hermione countered by murmuring that some ‘good wand waving’ might
relieve a certain pressure in certain people. The gaze with which he measured
her then reminded her of the unforgettable, intense look he had given her
during first year, when he had caught the Trio outside the Transfiguration
classroom after they had found out about the Sorcerer’s Stone.
Good
gods this man had eyes to drown in.
He turned
back to his food. Her remark, the sparkle of her innocent eyes devouring him
had made his pants feel tight. Very tight. He sensed something in the air. Was
it her willingness? He knew he would probably be too weak to deny her tonight.
She had the
urge to kiss him senseless as she watched his lips with rapt ation ion as he
chewed. Should she start footing him? Hermione grinned and decided against it.
No use in scaring the man. Apart from that, she did not want to make a complete
fool of herself.
The
atmosphere got heavier with desert. It was nothing deliberate but the looks got
more intense with the sweetness of the dishes.
After the
Espresso, Snape paid and both got up. He was unsure where this evening was
going, so he decided to let her make up the rules.
Again he
offered her his arm. When they stepped out of the restaurant, they were greeted
by a slight drizzle and icy wind. She snuggled a bit closer to him. Halfway
back, the drizzle turned into sheets of rain. Hermione squeaked and they set
off into a run.
Nevertheless
they were soaked when they reached the front door of the building. Snape stood
outside and hesitated but she ushered him in.
Once inside Hermione’s small apartment shook herself like a wet cat.
“We do need
to get out of these clothes.” she announced, teeth chattering from the cold.
They both looked at each other. Yet another double entendre. This time,
however, something clicked, this was it. Severus fidgeted unsure, once again
not at all in control of the situation. They had kissed once, she would not ---
she was a virgin, wasn’t she?
In the meantime Hermione’s mind went through different possible scenarios at
record speed. After a few seconds, she opted for the most appealing.
“We ought
to take a warm shower as quickly as possible.” she suggested as brightly as she
could. With that she shed her wet clothes on the way to the bathroom.
Snape still stood transfixed.
Was it time to be a gentleman now and risk pneumonia? Or should he follow her
and let nature take its course?
Oh, such a long time since he had last…he discarded his clothes and followed
her.
She was under the shower already. He gave her a quick once over:
Average breasts, flat stomach, Great Scot! Her pubic area! Even a male Weasley
would be more appealing right now. And he was a straight bloke.
Eeeew! Maybe he could cast a trimming charm if push came to shove. But she did
have nice long legs for sure. He gave her a reassuring smile.
Hermione
saw him join her. She could not help taking a closer look at him. He was very
thin. Skin and bone…and…oh…was the water that cold? Or was that thing about men
with long noses just another myth? She thought that even one of the male
Weasleys would be more appealing right now, even though she had only strictly
platonic feelings for all of them.
She returned his smile.
“Is the water
warm enough for you?” she asked trying not to stare at little Severus.
He nodded,
looking lost like a cat in the rain. She was determined to wake the tiger in
him.
“Let me
wash your hair.” she said.
She took
the bottle of shampoo, poured a bit into her hand. She stepped closer, her
stomach brushed his groin, her fingers worked through his hair. She smiled. The
books were right: Skin on skin = stiffy in a jiffy. From what she could tell by
the erection that poked into her stomach, he was not as big as she had imagined
he would be.
Never
mind, if he knew how to work it right.
She
hesitated and decided that it would be now or never. Her hand brushed his
hard-on. He groaned in pleasure. She brushed it again.
“Hermione,
no!” he choked.
She smiled
grasping his manhood, all shyness forgotten, moving her hand up an down the
shaft. Again, he asked her to stop and before she knew what happened, he came
with a sob.
“S…s…sorry.
I didn’t know.” she stammered.
He panted
hard, trying not to collapse in the shower…or to die of embarrassment. The
first time in twenty years that he had been touched by someone other than
himself and he lasted about ten bloody seconds.
“Severus, I
am sorry...” Hermione began.
“It’s …
alright, … Hermione. It’s…I…we’ll…simply…have to wait a bit before I can
perform again.” he interrupted in a very un-Snape-ish way. He would not have
managed a snarky remark if his life had depended on it.
“I read
that it takes about forty minutes for a man around your age to get another
erection. Is that true?” she asked curiously.
Snape
cursed inwardly. Hermione Granger - ever the bookworm. If only the topic was
not his sexual stamina.
“Check the
watch, so we’ll find out.” he retorted a little more acidly than he had
intended. He felt immediately sorry when he saw the look of hurt on her face.
As soon as he had recovered, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her
clumsily.
She was not
sure whether it was just his nose which seemed to be forever in the way or the
water from the shower seeping in between them.
After he
had washed her hair in return, they stepped out of the shower and dried
themselves. Snape wrapped the towel around his hips. She stepped up to him and
shook her head. The towel fell to the ground.
“We’ll have
another thirty minutes until you are back on. I’d like my first orgasm with a
man to be clitoral, do you think you could arrange that?” she whispered.
Oh Merlin,
he thought, she certainly knows what she wants.
For some
reason Snape’s smile reminded Hermione of Gilderoy Lockhart after setting the
pixies free. He stretched out his hand and aimed directly at her private parts.
To his surprise she drew away.
“Not like
that… More sensual.”
He was
slightly puzzled. What the heck did she mean by that? His mind was racing, he
lifted his hand slowly and caressed her hips and thighs. She closed her eyes.
He hoped his inexperience was not too obvious. The number of his sexual
encounters could be counted on two fingers and his right hand. The two women he
had slept with probably did not even remember him. He estimated that he was
roughly five minutes more experienced in actual intercourse than Hermione.
Slowly he rain his fingertip over her clitoris.
She tensed.
It felt
odd. Not like touching herself. She was a bit disappointed, because she had
expected butterflies and fireworks. He caressed her for a little while, then he
whispered:
“We should
lie down. You can’t relax properly like that.”
She nodded.
They moved to the bed. Snape continued rubbing and stroking her, checking for
her reaction - or the lack of it.
Was he doing something wrong?
“Severus,
would you please lick my nipples. I need more…women have to be stimulated on
several levels. I want my first orgasm coming from a man to be breathtaking.
Try kissing the nipples first and then suckle. I want to know which one feels
better. But don’t bite, the books say it can heighten the pleasure but I just
cannot imagine it to feel good. My nipples are very sensitive, you know.” she
explained.
Snape
stopped rubbing and glared in disbelief.
Licking nipples? Stimulation on several levels? Books? What kind of books?
This unexpected input of information had to be digested. Was he supposed to
take notes during foreplay? Colour coding them according to importance?
Hermione opened her eyes.
“Severus?”
“Yes, precious.
I’m sorry.”
He bent his
head to kiss the tip of her nose and moved to her mouth.
Oh-kay,
now slowly move your finger along her slit without losing the rhythm of the
kiss.
Concentrating
hard on doing it right he moved from her mouth to her cleavage while his hand
strained to keep moving. When he reached her left nipple he stopped.
What had she said? Kissing and biting was ok? No, wait: Biting was off limits.
His finger stopped moving. He kissed her nipple gently and started to suckle
very lightly, scared of hurting her. A contempt sigh from her signalled it was
alright. He relaxed a bit.
“Severus,
please don’t stop stroking down there.”
Damn, he
had forgotten about that!
“Sorry. I’m
a bit out of practise.” he admitted almost inaudibly.
Yes, that
was better. Her mind analysed what feelings came with which touch. It was
interesting to feel how the two sensations blended and moved apart again. She
felt his fingers move a bit lower to dip into her and back up again to spread
the moisture while he was breathing against her breast. She tensed.
“Hermione,
you need to relax.” Snape told her. “Yield to the sensations.”
“Yield to
the sensations? But …” she did not have the heart to tell him he was doing it
wrong. Instead she put her hand on his and guided him.
For the third time today Severus felt like a schoolboy. She was tutoring him
about a finger job. Normally he would have hexed a woman by now. But it was not
like he had a harem full of willing women waiting for him; plus, he truly
wanted to please her, wanted her to feel good because she made him feel
appreciated and loved when she was around. So he relented, brought his lips to
her ear (, wi, with her he discovered he had a bit of an ear fetish) and
whispered: “Okay, show me what you like.”
How to
make a virtue of necessity with style. A true Slytherin!
She
relaxed.
Apparently this was better for her as she could now control things. He briefly
considered surprising her by using his mouth to make her peak but he remembered
the hair. There was no way he would go down on her with that fur between her
thighs. He paid attention to the rhythm
and the movements she enjoyed. Once or twice he grew a bit bored and thought
about creating a draught that would enhance the female sexual completion, so
that it would match the male. Then he grew aware of the disrespect he was
currently showing towards Hermione and he concentrated on the task at hand.
After some time her movements were growing uncontrolled and she erupted with a
sigh.
The earth
had not moved. She had not seen stars. It had been a bit better than her solo
flights but nowhere near the explosion she had expected in her dreams. Maybe it
would take a bit of practise to make it a transcendent experience. Conjuring a
corporal patronus was also the result of hard work, wasn’t it?
“Severus?”
she asked lazily “Women enjoy being caressed after a climax as their resolution
phase after the orgasm is different from that of men.”
He watched
her relaxed face, his head on his arm and complied. That was fine by him,
letting his hand brush and stroke her skin gently was his something he could
easily get addicted to. Then he remembered something.
“Hermione…”
he started.
“Hmmm?”
“What books
were you talking about?”
She opened
her eyes. Out of all the questions he could have asked, this was the least
expected.
“Yes, I
enjoyed it very much Severus.” she answered dryly.
“You did
not read ridiculous sex guides, did you?” he could not help it. He just felt
like teasing her a bit now that she was floating in her afterglow.
“They are
not ridiculous. And besides…” she faltered.
“Besides
what?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked up.
She blushed
and shook her head. He was still stroking her and it felt divine. She already
knew that whatever he would screw up, she would happily forgive if he let his
hands roam her lik like that. However, he did not know that. And she would do
hell and tell him.
“So…are the
forty minutes over?” she grinned suggestively, reaching for his penis.
It was still limp. She stroked slowly up and down.
Snape’s hand stopped moving, he closed his eyes. She was touching him again.
Like in his dreams.
Unlike in his dreams nothing happened.
She started playing with the sensitive tip, gently cupped his balls.
He gulped and jumped a bit.
“Don’t
squeeze too hard.” he breathed worriedly.
“I know,
testicles are very sensitive.”
The flicker
of lust he had just felt died immediately.
So is
the male psyche, Hermione.
After
several minutes of exploring, touching and almost exasperated groping on
Hermione’s , sh, she looked at him. Little Severus simply refused to spring to
life.
“Are you
ok? Are you nervous? Do you feel like I am pushing you?” she asked warmly.
He looked
back, a little helpless.
“Everything
is fine. Give me a few more minutes. If you keep playing with it, it will get
hard.” He kissed her reassuringly. “Don’t worry.”
“Okay, lay
back then lover boy.” Hermione smiled.
He did as
he was told, closed his eyes and conjured one of his favourite fantasies:
He was
locked in a room with Amber Weird and Professor Sinistra. Amber was on the bed
starving for a good fuck. Sinistra sat on a chair next to the bed with a
clipboard. She was wearing a dark, high collared cloak and a stern expression.
Untouchable.
First he performed a breathtaking cunnilingus on Amber, whose sighs and moans
were driving him towards blind lust. He did not waste much and and pounded
into her, changing positions every time she shouted his name. He made her come
time and time again, even after she begged for mercy.
At last Professor Sinistra called it a day and scribbled an ‘A’ with a:
-Well, Severus…not bad but you do seem to lack some sensuality.
-Do I, now? he asked.
With that he took her hand, suckled the base of her palm. Her pupils dilated.
He grinned: I am going to have you beg and plead for raw sex...
With that he invaded her pri spa space so excruciatingly slowly that she was
already panting with desire when she was still dressed. She was sobbing and
pleading for him to finish when was had just started to pamper her clitoris
with deft movements of his te.
He reached
between them and rubbed the tip of his penis along her slit to spread the
moisture.
Aaaah, that
was good.
18.0pt;mso-ansi-language:EN-ABC ABC of sexual health: http://bmj.bmjjournals.com/cgi/content/full/318/7175/41#Fu2
and here: http://www.epub.org.br/cm/n03/mente/sexo_i.htm
The difference between a male and a female orgasm: http://home.comcast.net'welder1956/att00003.htm
Right now I
am working on the last / next chapter.
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