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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
- 5
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A/N: Sorry folks if you noticed this story went missing. It was taken down for a while for having the wrong tags. I find it a little difficult to write them as I'm not sure what's going to happen from the start but hopefully it is all good now. Let me know how you're finding this one.

Oracle – I have watched a helluva lotta Blackadder in my time so I remember much of it. ‘He's a bit easy to be honest.’ – Bahahah, do you really want a JGG that plays hard to get? ‘He seems torn between fascination and revulsion.’ – this is a good pick up. More will emerge around this as things progress. 'Hermione's need to turn to alcohol at the least suggestion of discomfort is sad (but realistic). She seems desperate for his contact (not just sexually).’ – Yes, she’s feeling it as predominantly sexual but there is a more general loneliness that she’s trying to combat. ‘He better fuck her soon before she gets alcohol poisoning.’ – too late!

Chapter 6 – Un Affare Primaticcia

He was doing something with his fingers. And his mouth. He was supposed to be writing but he kept stopping and staring out into space before she would notice two of his fingers twitching together or his thumb flicking in small rhythmic circles. And then there was his mouth. She could see his jaw working, ticking with minute twists and thrusts, his lips occasionally parting. And the tip of his tongue sliding in and out in tiny moist increments. Gods!

She scratched her head irritably. It was driving her crazy. She’d done the same thing when she was writing the previous chapter alone but was trying desperately hard not to do it now. She was, however, finding it far more difficult to pen the actions of her protagonists now that she couldn’t emulate them. She was also way overdue for another drink.

Did he know that he was doing it? Or was he so absorbed in his writing that he was totally unaware? Snape unaware? Fucking unlikely. She frowned down at her parchment, not wanting to give away how distracting she found him. Especially considering he didn’t seem to be suffering from the same preoccupation with her. He hadn’t looked at her once—not unless he had the peripheral vision of a halibut. Then again, that wasn’t something she could completely rule out. He’d certainly seemed to have an uncanny ability to know what was going on behind his back in Potions classes.

He was doing it again. This time his head was swaying slightly from side to side as his jaw gradually dropped. She felt a shiver threatening her spine and her finger began tapping testily against her quill, trying to release the mounting tension.

Focus Hermione! While she could still think reasonably clearly, she wanted to interrogate exactly what was going on here. So if he was aware of what he was doing. And if he was only pretending to be ignoring her. The question was, why?

She was pretty sure she knew the answer. He was trying to pay her back for his erection. It might seem rather petty but for someone who was clearly obsessed with power and domination, the loss of control that it signified was likely to have been irritating to say the least. He was playing with her, teasing her, trying to make her lose it. Well, he didn’t need to try particularly hard. She was quite adept at doing that herself. No doubt he considered her just another insufferable Gryffindor whose bravery was matched only by her naïveté; sexually inexperienced and totally out of her depth.

Well, she was happy to state unequivocally that she wasn’t, and never had been, intimidated by sex. She was, however, intimidated by him.

She stared at the words on her page, trying to will him and his agonising feline undulations from her mind. Her annoyance was also compounded by the fact that she was stuck. There were parts of her ‘Foreplay’ vignette that she now considered to be physically questionable, depending upon the heights of the people involved. The particular scene she was working on now had a few angles that she wasn’t sure about—it wasn’t something she’d ever done to a guy before. She tried to step it through. So if she were kneeling and he was standing and she had one hand on his balls and the other—

“Can I help you?”

She jumped. It was the first time he had spoken in over an hour.

“No. Why?”

“You seem to be intently focused upon my person.”

His person? Which fucking person? If he meant his cock then, yes, she had been staring at it, only for the sake of literary authenticity of course.

“I was visualising a slightly complicated dynamic for my current scene,” she said, managing to sound decidedly proper despite the alcohol.

His eyes rested upon her for a moment. Then he suddenly set his parchment and quill aside on the arm of the couch and stood, stretching his shoulders behind himself with a grunt before placing his hands on his hips.

“Go on then.”

She looked up at him. “Sorry?”

“I’m giving you an opportunity to work out your ‘complicated dynamics’.”

Was he serious? She looked at his face. Apparently. His slightly superior expression also told her that this was likely to be one of those Gryffindor/Slytherin bravery things. Without three drinks under her belt she might have declined but in her current state she absolutely couldn’t resist the opportunity to call his bluff. She tossed her parchment aside. Bring . . . it . . . on.

She could have sauntered over and slithered down his body as she imagined the ‘wet woman’ would have done but she couldn’t be fucked. Also, her current approach had the added bonus of being a little more off-putting. Sliding off the couch onto her knees, she shuffled awkwardly over until she was crouched with her face in front of his groin.

“Can you spread your legs a little further please?” she asked, looking up at him.

He flexed an eyebrow ever so slightly before acquiescing.

Hermione suddenly felt a flutter of anxiety. Being this close to his groin, looking up his tall, rigid body like some sort of monument to be conquered, she felt her fight or flight response suddenly kick in. Of course, out of those options, she would choose to fight. Taking a couple of slow breaths, she slid one hand under his crotch where she imagined his balls to be. And, as it turned out, that’s exactly where they were. Very much so. She didn’t exactly grab them but when her hand brushed the underside, he tensed visibly. Five points to Gryffindor.

Then she curled the other hand around behind him and brushed her fingertips down the rear seam of his trousers until she was reasonably sure she was near the cleft of his backside. She would have to angle her elbow a little differently if her character was going to stimulate him as deeply as her writing intended. Then she bobbed her head a little, imagining his cock in her mouth as she gently squeezed and pulled on his balls, thrusting a lubricated finger into his—

“I believe that should be sufficient,” he muttered, bending at the waist and rapidly stepping backward out of her reach.

She shrugged before rising to her feet, eyes fixed on him. “I think I had enough time to work it out. Just.”

“Do you have tea?” he asked suddenly, wiping a hand across his lips in a distracted gesture that made her want to smirk.

“Let me get some.” She pushed past him. “How do you have yours?”

“Strong.”

“And hot.”

No surprises there.

***

The close encounter with his cock had sobered her up way too much. She threw down a full tankard of ginger beer while she was waiting for the kettle to boil and brought another one back when she returned with his cup of tea. Judging by his expression he was clearly still uncomfortable with her drinking, but she’d been highly productive which was all that was really required of her so he couldn’t say a whole lot.

Hermione finished off the rest of her vignette relatively quickly after that and, as it turned out, the remainder of her glass of ginger beer.

As the warm, fuzziness hit again, her mind kept drifting back to the opportunity on her knees. Could she have taken it further? He had seemed rather uncomfortable despite his initial cockiness. Hadn’t he expected her to step up to the challenge? Possibly not. Or had that serpent of his begun to misbehave itself? Most probably. She wondered how just how sustained its solicitations got. Or was that just another bluff?

An enticing idea suddenly struck her. She would read to him—the very chapter that he’d inspired. Slowly. Letting the descriptions drip from her tongue. Watching him squirm. She looked over at the thoughtful crease of his brow as his hand glided across the page. She’d very much enjoy transforming that into a sexy furrow of agonised arousal. But not yet. Not before she got herself another drink. And made a start on a particularly racy idea she had for the next chapter.

He’d gone very quiet. And there were far less suggestive movements. Maybe she’d scared him off. Had he suddenly realised he wasn’t dealing with some sexual neophyte? Surely her ‘Foreplay’ chapter should have given him a tiny clue?

She ventured another glance at him. He was still writing intensively. Either he was really into oral sex or had started something new. Either way she didn’t mind. Writing was writing. This thing had to look like a fucking book after all. ‘The pamphlet of quasi-magical suggestiveness’ just wasn’t going to cut it. She knew that Mr Dooley would be all over it too, his small beady eyes jumping about behind the magnifying glass he carried with him at all times. She just hoped to hell he didn’t have a thorough knowledge of the original contents; otherwise they were fucked. Even more fucked than the protagonist in her next chapter. If that was possible.

Without the distraction of her couch-partner’s writhing and with the surprising focus that another glass of alcohol could bring her, she knocked off the, rather intense, vignette in record time before announcing she needed to visit the loo. As she passed through her bedroom on the way to her ensuite, she realised she was feeling decidedly light-headed. Maybe she’d had enough? She flopped down heavily onto the toilet seat before releasing the urinary equivalent of Niagara Falls. Nah. Just one more. Returning to the couch via the kitchen, she took up her position, another full glass teetering on her knee. Was it time to put Operation Serpent Seduction into action?

“Why don’t I provide you with some feedback?”

Despite her drunkenness, she could hear the amusement in his voice.

“She arrived ready to be punished,” he read from the parchment pages fanned out between his fingers.

It took her a moment to register. Oh, fuck! She hadn’t intended for him to see that chapter at all; planning instead to slip it into the book at the end. She’d written that one for herself. For her to enjoy. Alone.

“It’s not finished,” she blurted, sounding more desperate than she’d intended.

“I’ll just read what’s here then,” he said, settling back into his seat as if intending to enjoy the moment as much as possible.

Hermione took a huge gulp of her drink. Maybe if she passed out before the end it wouldn’t be so bad.

“She arrived ready to be punished,” he repeated, lifting his chin as if to free up his vocal cords. “She was dressed in the same clothes she’d worn to class that day, although it was now evening and the air of the classroom was positively brittle.” He glanced at her, his black eyes wandering over her face before continuing, “’Stand before my desk,’ he ordered. ‘Face me.”

Hermione closed her eyes. That’s exactly the way she’d imagined him saying it. Deep. Dominant. Dangerous.

“She shivered as she walked over to his desk, the back of her skirt brushing against the polished wood, her bare backside shuddering. She’d known it’d been foolish to take up her best friend’s dare to attend class without wearing underwear. He’d caught her, and now she was going to suffer the consequences.”

Hermione realised that it wasn’t particularly well written. Nor believable. But with each word expertly crafted and lacquered by his honeyed vocals, it may as well have been Shakespeare.

“He strolled forward, drawing closer with each languid stride until she was suddenly overwhelmed by both his menacing proximity and heady scent. His eyes bored into her. Darkness against darkness. Reaching out, he grasped the front of her shirt with both hands, tearing it open. Her pale breasts heaved between the tattered shards of cloth, erect nipples straining into the frigid air.”

Snape paused. Hermione buried her face in her glass, sucking up more of the drink, trying to appear unconcerned. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so desperate to drown herself, it might have been more convincing.

“‘And for some reason you didn’t think breasts this size needed support?’ He sneered down at her, his gaze scorching a trail of dark heat across her skin. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. ‘I saw it the moment you entered the classroom. The casual swing, bold and flirtatious. Did you really think you could get away with it?’ She quickly shook her head. It was true. She’d ditched her bra on purpose. She’d wanted him to notice. ‘If you’re so desperate for my attention, perhaps you should demonstrate just how . . . conspicuous they can be. Play with them. I want them ripe . . . and glistening.’”

Hermione really didn’t need to hear the words ‘ripe’ and ‘glistening’ roll off his tongue at that point. She felt completely paralysed. Had her pussy actually welded itself to the couch?

“She grasped her nipples between her fingertips and tugged them, pulling them into long, pink tongues of flesh. ‘Wet them,’ he instructed, hovering over her. She sucked her finger and thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around each digit before bringing them down to slick the ripe tips of her nipples, sliding them around each point until they glimmered like rose-coloured beacons in the firelight. ‘Not . . . quite . . . enough.’ He leaned into her further until she had to throw her hands backwards to stop herself from toppling onto the desk. He slid down her prickling skin, running his soft lips along the side of her neck, skimming over her breast before capturing one throbbing nipple in his mouth.”

Hermione closed her eyes. She couldn’t risk looking at him. It was too much. His voice. His smell. Her poorly chosen chapter topic.

“He sucked on the firm bud, plying it vigorously with his tongue until she was keening her desire to the darkened ceiling. Releasing her nipple with a wet ‘pop’, he grasped her jaw between his fingers and tilted her face to his. ‘Now it’s your turn,’ he growled. Stepping back, he grasped his belt and released it with a quick yank before pulling open his fly. His rock hard erection bounced free. ‘I’ve wanted to ram my cock into your know-it-all mouth for a long time now,” he rumbled, stroking his thick shaft. ‘Let’s see you finally put that insufferable hole to good use.’”

She didn’t need to open to eyes to know he was looking at her. Eyes closed. Eyes closed. Keep them fucking closed!

“He pushed her down roughly to her knees before grasping a handful of her thick hair. ‘Tongue out,’ he instructed. She extended her quivering pink muscle and he tilted his hips forward, painting a trail of pre-cum down the centre.”

Snape’s voice suddenly changed. “I think I might have read enough to generate some . . . feedback.”

She couldn’t prevent her head from shaking ‘no’ even if she’d wanted to. “Keep going.” Her drunken fantasy brain was desperate to hear more. To have him finish it off. Finish her off . . .

There was a long pause before he resumed.

“He wasn’t rough but his size and the depth of his intrusions were enough to keep her flustered, her nostrils flaring as she tried to cope with his intense thrusting. He held her head firmly with both hands as he slid his cock into her, stretching her, finding her limits. When he discovered the point at which she could breathe easily but still had a sizeable portion of his meat inside her, he stopped. ‘Suck me. And use your tongue. Gently. That’s it.’ His head tipped back and he released a deep groan as she swirled her tongue around his throbbing helmet, the way she’d imagined doing to him hundreds of times before. His hips ground slowly into her. ‘I’m finding your mouth more and more agreeable,’ he breathed. ‘But you're going to find me coming down your throat if we don’t get onto your punishment soon.’ He pulled out and lifted her up all in one motion. ‘Your alluring upper lips might have won me over but I haven’t forgotten the flagrant disrespect that your pussy showed me today. Your cunt needs to be taught a serious lesson.’”

Hermione heard Snape inhale deeply through his nose. Clearly her story was taking a toll on him too.

“Spinning her around, he pushed her roughly over his desk before flipping up her skirt to reveal her bare backside. Using one boot, he pushed her feet apart as he slid two fingers into her sopping channel. ‘I didn’t imagine this particular opening would require much preparation,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘Judging by the fact that it was winking at me throughout my lecture, deliberately distracting me with its glaze of blatant desire.”

Snape swallowed audibly.

“Now I’m going to fuck that pussy until it wishes it’d never had the audacity to try to distract me in class. I’m going to make it swallow everything I’ve got. And I don’t want to hear a squeak.’”

Flabbergasted. That’s the word she should have used. He was going to leave it flabbergasted—a totally shocked pussy.

“There was no chance of her remaining quiet. She cried out as soon as he entered, her pussy straining to accommodate the size and speed of his unyielding cock. He gave a shuddering moan as he thrust deeply into her slot. ‘It’s so fucking hot and . . . tight . . .’ he grunted. As he curled his fingers into her hair, she curled hers around the edges of the desk, clinging on as he gained momentum, pumping viciously, bottoming out inside her with each thrust. ‘This is what happens to undisciplined and disrespectful cunts. They get fucked into subservience. Do you understand?’ She nodded vigorously, gasping at the swelling tension inside her. ‘Are you going to reveal this pussy to me again in class?’ She shook her head, although the answer was, of course, one hundred percent ‘yes’—every day if she could get away with it. ‘Good. To show I have no hard feelings, I’m willing to give it a hand.’ He untangled his fingers from her hair and slid them down to skim the front of her thigh before inserting them between her swollen lips, rubbing her clitoris. Her high pitched moans echoed off the classroom walls as he massaged her nub more vigorously, continuing to piston his rigid shaft into her.”

Snape paused and swallowed again. Hermione was breathing rapidly. She felt ready to come on the spot.

“She was being driven over the edge—pushed beyond the point of no return. With a hoarse cry, she felt the muscles of her core suddenly explode around his plunging cock. Fireworks peppered her vision as she writhed and shuddered against the hard wood. He was only two thrusts behind, releasing a guttural roar as his balls squeezed, pumping jets of warm seed deep inside her clenching channel. Her pussy sucked at him hungrily, swallowing everything he gave her, as instructed. His thrusts gradually diminished until she went slack, lying prone against the desk, drawing ragged breaths through her swollen lips. He rubbed her buttocks appreciatively as he withdrew his glistening member. ‘Now don’t do it again,’ he growled. ‘I won’t,’ she murmured in response. ‘Not until next time.’”

The room was plunged into silence. She wasn’t sure how long they sat there because she was drunk and her eyes were closed. When she finally cracked them open he was frowning at her.

“Is this intended to depict some form of role play?” he asked, giving the pages a small flick.

“Mmmmm . . . Yep.”

“It isn’t is it?”

“Nope.”

“Is this one of your fantasies, Miss Granger?”

She needed him to stop talking. His voice was rapidly becoming the most potent aphrodisiac she’d ever encountered.

“Miss Granger?”

She groaned, feeling that her snatch might suddenly explode out of her zipper and attack him like some sort of killer Venus flytrap. Eating him, cock first. Devouring him until—

“I’m sorry?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hermione mumbled.

“You were muttering something. It sounded like, ‘Yum, yum, yum.’”

“Was I? Oh . . . I meant . . . come . . . come . . . No I didn’t . . . I didn’t mean anything . . . I think I might be hungry . . . I . . . I need to go to the bathroom. Again. To do . . . something.”

She staggered off.

Hermione sat on the toilet with her jeans and knickers pooled around her ankles. She was having trouble getting herself off. There was something missing. She was more than aware of what it was but there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing that wouldn’t involve issues of consent, anyway. Finally she gave up and returned to the lounge room, leaning drunkenly against the door frame.

She scanned the room as if not quite sure of her surroundings before squinting over at the couch. There were two Snapes. Two blurry, fuzzy wuzzy Snapes. And now three. She giggled. What would she do with three Snapes? One in the front, one in the back and one in her gob. That would work.

“Do you think so?” He stared at her.

Oh fuck! She was thinking out loud again!

She lurched forward for a few erratic strides before tripping and falling into his lap. Blinking, she tried to focus on his face but it was too close so she simply buried her own face in his chest before releasing a muffled slur. “I need to tell you something.”
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An Accidental Affair *Complete*

An Accidental Affair Complete