Meeting Dr. Granger
uresmania
Summary:
Harry experiences love at first sight.
It would have been much simpler if he hadn't.
Chapter 1
I knew I was in trouble from the moment I saw her.
She was in the middle of a crowd but I couldn't have lost sight of her if I tried. Her lips were full and covered with a dark red matte lipstick. They were slightly pursed as she looked for us and quirked into a slight smile as she caught sight of us. Her eye shadow did nothing to diminish the warmth and piercing intelligence of her gaze.
A tug on my arm made me realize I had frozen in place. I glanced over at Hermione who held my arm with apprehension. I couldn't have articulated my fear or guilt at the time, but I felt them all the same. Her face showed no recrimination, just excitement at seeing her mother again.
Her mother.
I looked back at those eyes and lips. Her lips twitched into an almost smile and something about her gaze seemed knowing. Like she saw right through me, right into my head, and was amused. Or was I reading too much into the contraction of a few tiny facial muscles? Perhaps some silly thought passed through her mind at that moment that had nothing to do with me. With what I felt. Which was… what, exactly?
Suddenly we were right there and her presence was suffocating. I felt like there was nothing about me that could escape her notice. No breath or shortness thereof, no averting of my gaze, no minute expression, no single thought could avoid being captured by those eyes.
Hermione rushed forward to hug her mother.
Her mother.
I repeated the appellation like a mantra, hoping against hope that I could deny the upswelling within me.
My eyes were pulled from the back of Hermione's head up to her mother's eyes and I felt like I was caught in a spotlight. I was hopelessly illuminated, pinned to corkboard like the merest bug, awaiting the pleasure of my captor.
Her lips twitched into that almost smile again. I was filled with equal amounts of certainty and doubt. I knew that she knew even if I didn't fully realize what there was in me to know. At the same time, it felt ridiculous to ascribe so much to so little a sign as the movement of her lips and the shape of her eyes.
Again, the world moved as I sat entranced tidally locked into a gaze with the body around which the world seemed to move.
"Harry?" Hermione said.
She was pulled to her mother's, her mother's!, side. It was all I could do to avoid comparing them feature by feature.
"Er, right!" I managed to say. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
Why did I say pleasure? There were a thousand more innocuous greetings? Did I emphasize the word? Would she read anything into it? The insect writhed helplessly around the pin.
Her gaze was steady as I finally met it.
"The pleasure will be all mine, I'm sure," she said.
I gulped at the emphasis that I wasn't entirely sure I heard.
"Oh, and if you're going to be formal, then you might as well address me as Dr. Granger," she added.
"Of course, Dr. Granger," I obeyed.
At the same time, Hermione moaned a dragged-out "Muuuum."
She smiled at Hermione openly and gave me a fleeting but weighty glance.
"Let's be off then," she said and turned to walk towards the car park.
They both turned around and I immediately felt the relief of not being observed. Without waiting for instruction, my eyes drank in all that they could of Dr. Granger. Drank and drank and could not be filled. My earlier willpower crumbled and I compared Hermione and Dr. Granger. Hermione and her mother.
Dr. Granger was well taller than Hermione and likely had a few inches on me. Her hair fell in gently arcing curls that bounced lightly with her steps while Hermione's hair seemed positively tangled and unkempt in comparison. Dr. Granger's slender neck led gracefully down to her perfect figure. Her professional white blouse was tight enough for me to see the curve of her breasts around the sides of her ribs. Her high-waisted dark skirt showed off her thin waist, generous hips, and frankly amazing ass. From there, her nylons hugged her toned calves all the way down to the high heels that she walked in with grace and surety.
Hermione, on the other hand, seemed now to be clad in ill-fitting clothes that hid what few curves she had all while she fairly stomped around in her kitten heels.
It was an unfair comparison. Hermione was a bud, not a flower, a girl, not a woman. He would have said he loved her if not for the torrent of emotions he felt in the last few minutes. Had it only been a few minutes? It seemed like her eyes had scrutinized her for an eternity, her lips pronounced her judgment for an age, and his eyes were now free to pay homage to the soft ripples passing through her curves for eons to come.
And yet, they arrived at her car before he knew it. He made to go for the back seat but a firm hand guided him forward from the small of his back.
"Come sit in the front, Harry," she said as she opened the door for him.
"Calm down Harry," Hermione chimed in, "she just wants to get to know you a little better. No need to be so nervous."
"She's right Harry," she said, "nothing would please me more."
My head snapped over to her, but her eyes were on the mirrors as she backed the car out. Her lips, however, had that damnable almost smile on them. The smile that could mean nothing or could mean everything. He felt he could spend hours staring at her lips and that smile and still not know what she meant by it. Was this what other people saw when they looked at the Mona Lisa?
"So, Harry, tell me about yourself," she said.
I gulped.
-----------
I felt disoriented as I processed the fact that I was in a strange bed and looking at a strange room. The previous day came back to me in a flash. The positive rapture of meeting, seeing, beholding Dr. Granger felt further from reality. Maybe it had been a dream and I was waking up. Maybe I had happened into an altered state of consciousness and the experience and feelings would gently fade. I would go back to loving my girlfriend as more than a pale imitation of someone greater.
Her mother.
I shuddered but took comfort in my thoughts. Took comfort in the strange aloofness brought on by unfamiliar surroundings. Took comfort in the quiet of a house that hadn't waken yet. It was the best time to grab a cuppa and simply be. It had always been the best time at the Dursleys. Even when they finally awoke, they usually took some time to build up the energy required to make proper nuisances of themselves.
So resolved, I got up intent on getting the tea going and having normal, cordial, and appropriate interactions with Dr. Granger.
I made it as far as the hallway.
I first noticed the light coming from her doorway. My brain began reevaluating how much alone time I could count on right up until my brain also noticed that her door was ever so slightly ajar. I froze. My fresh morning resolve crashed against whatever strange beast Dr. Granger had awakened in me yesterday.
Yesterday. The feelings were less distant now, the reality of what had happened was solidifying by the moment. I thought furiously at myself, fighting with every bit of reason and willpower that I could muster.
Nothing had really happened. It was all in my head. The little signs were nothing. The emphasis she placed on the word pleasure was clearly a fabrication of my own addled mind. The way her lips twitched signified nothing.
And yet, I found myself creeping towards that slight crack in the door.
Why would I do this? I'll be able to see her plenty today and in the coming weeks. This was a senseless risk even if I wanted to fawn over my girlfriend's mother like some kind of pervert.
And yet, my eye pressed up to the crack.
The light was coming through the bulbs at her vanity. It shone over her shoulders and through her hair in a way that cast her in a slight silhouette. She was occupied doing her face and I was looking at her back. Up and down her back. From the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders to the clasp of her lacy black bra to her narrowing waist to her expanding hips holding up the thin fabric of her panties all the way to her plush bottom that almost spilled over the edge of her seat. And further! He noticed her dainty foot idly going back and forth as it brushed the strands of carpet beneath her. As he looked back up her realized her shoulders were bare. A quick check of the sides of her arms confirmed that she was wearing a strapless bra.
I could imagine her generous bust pressing against the bra and just barely escaping over the top edge. I could imagine her lips gently depressing as she applied her lipstick. I could imagine quite a lot of things about her.
And yet, all that came to a stop as she stood up and bent over. Her perfect ass was laid almost entirely bare before me and set atop a pair of long slender legs. I felt my mouth grow dry as my eyes drank in the sight. I enjoyed the short eternity that it took for her to pull on her stockings before my brain finally processed the increased danger of getting caught. It was, apparently, the difference-maker in overcoming whatever strange feelings had possessed me to peep on Dr. Granger. On my girlfriend's mother.
I shook my head and hurried down the stairs. I found the kitchen and put the kettle on a burner. I was just rummaging through the cupboards looking for tea and cups when I heard the creaks of someone else coming down the stairs. My heart leaped into my throat.
I dreaded it being her. I needed it to be her.
It took the most supreme effort of will to continue my search for tea and just throw a quick "Hullo!" over my shoulder. My sideways glance was enough to confirm that it was her, and I had to wrench my head back to avoid ogling her.
"Up a bit and to your left," she called out.
I looked there, found the cups and tea, and busied myself setting it all out on the table. I kept my gaze downward to avoid looking at her for as long as possible. It was useless, though. As soon as I did look, I couldn't stop myself.
Her hair was still glorious. Her eyes still shone in piercing intelligence combined with a comforting warmth. Her lips were now painted a neutral pink which made her seem just the least bit more approachable. Her neck and shoulders were bare and my gaze followed the curve of her neck to her delicate collarbones to her cleavage. Her breasts were gently pressed up and together by her strapless bra highlighting their round shape and creating a deep cleavage. Her dress hugged her figure from her chest to her hips and then flowed out into a mid-thigh skirt. If I weren't interrupted, I could have gone on looking at her for days, weeks, even centuries.
"You know," she began. My eyes darted back to her face and my gaze was immediately claimed by the movement of her pink lips.
"Even Hermione is going to start noticing if you keep staring at me like that," she finished.
"I," I said, "I know."
I dared to look into her eyes, fearing judgment and disdain. I expected to see the eyes of a goddess regarding a mortal. And, well, the latter was true enough. The warmth, though, was still there. My heart rejoiced in the fact that I had not yet been rejected.
"Will you stop, then?" she asked. I was surprised again to hear no judgment in her tone. She was waiting for my answer, not just scolding me and expecting me to parrot the right answer.
"I can't," I said.
"You can't?" she asked again.
The kettle began to sing just behind me.
"No, I can't stop looking at you," I said. "I've been trying. I've put my all into stopping, I really have. I can't do it though."
"Why not?" she asked.
I tore my eyes away from her and clamped my jaws shut before the answer spilled out of me. Again, it was for naught.
She stepped closer, right up into the space in front of me. I felt her body against me as she leaned forward and took the now-screaming kettle off of the burner. Then I felt a single one of her fingers lift my face by the chin until I was staring into her eyes and she into mine. She was so close. Her lips were right there. Her perfume filled my nostrils. Her eyes showed that she knew exactly how dangerous her question was.
"Why can't you stop looking at me, Harry?"
"Because I love you," I blurted out. The words rolled out like the beginnings of an avalanche and more followed.
"I love your eyes, your lips, the curve of your waist and hips. I love the way you look at me, the way your full lips twitch just so. I love you because you absolutely captivate me. I can't help but stare at you and keep staring. If it were possible for me to stop, to just choose Hermione and be happy I would have done so, but I just can't. You are too much for me to resist and I can't do anything else but look at you and want you."
She held my gaze and my chin throughout it all. If any word of it were a lie or an exaggeration, she would have known. I expected a slap to come at any time. I certainly deserved it.
Instead, she pressed her full lips against mine. The kiss was slow, forceful, deliberate, and lasting. She pulled away with a whisper.
"I might just keep you."
Then her finger disappeared from my chin. Suddenly she was seated at the dining room table.
"I'll have my tea with cream and just a pinch of sugar," she ordered.
I gaped for a moment, not having the ability to process any of what had just happened.
"Uh, of course, Dr. Granger," I managed.
"Good boy," she said.
Her lips, again, twitched just so.
Chapter 2
Notes:
She heard the murmurs of conversation in the kitchen as she descended the staircase. She had been a little nervous about introducing Harry to her mother. Nothing inordinate, of course; they were both fine and reasonable people. It was just that her mother didn't always rub people the right way. Clearly, though, she and Harry were doing fine even if he was a bit quieter than usual.
A snippet of conversation entered her ears and sat in her brain the way half-heard things do.
"Good morning, dear," her mother said.
Harry's head shot around.
"Morning, Hermione," he breathed.
"Go on then," her mother prodded, "don't mind me."
Harry took a few stiff steps toward her and her brain successfully decoded the last two words she had overheard.
"… of me," her mother had said.
Then Hermione's thoughts vanished from her head as Harry's hands grasped her neck and face. His eyes closed and he pulled her into the kind of kiss that made love songs make sense. She couldn't say how long the kiss lasted or even how long after it she regained the powers of thought and speech.
"Wow," she eventually said.
Harry just let out a heavy breath.
Her brain finally registered her mother's continued presence. Hermione shot her a panicked look, but her mother remained composed and unbothered. As always.
"Don't mind me," she had said.
Hermione relaxed at the memory.
"... just think of me," she had also said.
She froze and willfully froze her thought process to avoid jumping to conclusions. Tried in vain to protect herself from the inevitability of those conclusions.
Her mother told Harry to think of her while he kissed Hermione.
He closed his eyes and, ostensibly, thought of her mother while kissing her.
It was inarguably the best kiss they had ever shared.
Harry was in love with her mother!
Wait, it wouldn't be that!
But if it wasn't love between them, then whatever it was was certainly greater than what Harry and Hermione shared.
No!
Maybe it's just different types of feelings. They can't already have the emotional connection that she and Harry shared. Years couldn't be replaced by mere hours! He was just, hm, in lust with her mother.
Still not ideal. Not ideal at all, really. But! But it was different than love, it must be! And he had turned those feelings towards her, the one he truly loved. This could be navigated.
She examined the afterglow of the kiss that she was still feeling, even amidst her inner turmoil. Perhaps this could even be harnessed.
Unfortunately, the world had not waited while she spiraled and then unspiraled. She had apparently been guided to a seat at the table and been served tea.
"Well," her mother began, "I'm off on errands, I'm afraid."
She rose up and Harry followed, taking her dishes.
"How long do you think you'll be?" Hermione asked.
"Long enough, I should think," she replied. "Enjoy the beginning of summer hols, you two."
She barely restrained a smile at the two of them as she left.
Hermione noticed that Harry didn't take his eyes off of her mother until she was well gone. The expression he turned on her was already hungry.
Harry was attracted to her mother. That, she could not deny. She could only take comfort in the fact that he was turning that energy to her. She could only hope that they could ride out this temporary passion of his and, perhaps, even use it to elevate their own love.
------------------------------------
I turned to really take Hermione in. She was wearing skimpy pajamas that he probably would be going crazy over were it not for Dr. Granger. Her mother.
Her shorts were loose and tiny the kind that almost constantly threatened to expose her ass. The kind that would expose her ass constantly if she had her Dr. Granger's body. Her top was a tight-fitting camisole with spaghetti straps that didn't quite cover her belly button. I wished I could go back to wanting her and no one more. Instead, I found myself following Dr. Granger's instructions. I imagined her. I imagined her bust spilling over the top of that cami. I imagined her ass refusing to be contained by those tiny shorts.
Before I could think to make a choice, I was on Hermione but thinking only of Dr. Granger. I imagined her lips being fuller as I kissed, sucked, and bit at them. I imagined her mother's tamer and more elegant locks as I grabbed a fistful of her hair. I imagined smoother and creamier skin as I stroked her neck. I palmed her breast and imagined more. Her hips, more. Her ass, more. Her legs wrapped around me and I could only wish that they were longer, thicker, stronger.
"Harry," she moaned as my mouth moved to her neck.
My cock throbbed almost painfully as I imagined eliciting that response from Dr. Granger. I forced myself to pull back and yank her top over her head and arms. I squatted and pulled her shorts and panties down in one go. She might have been about to talk as I met her lips again. I thought about how it would feel to silence Dr. Granger this way and felt another surge of lust. I picked her up by her thighs and walked us to the dining table. I plopped her naked ass on it and was about to take my cock out, but she beat me to it. Her hands went after my belt and trousers as I buried both of mine in her hair and held her head firmly against mine.
As she pulled my trousers and boxers down, I closed my eyes. I imagined. I let her guide me with her heels pressing into my ass and let myself pretend it was her instead. I controlled myself and remained passive for several moments after entering all the way inside of her. Then I let go.
I gripped the back of her neck and her hip and thrust wantonly. I attacked her neck with my lips and teeth, laying claim with the bruises I wished I could leave on her mother. She could do no more than cling to me and moan as I used her pussy to masturbate to her mother.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she cried.
I imagined Dr. Granger saying those words to me. I imagined causing this kind of reaction in her. It didn't seem right. Not morally; of course, I wasn't thinking morally. No, it just seemed much more likely that she would provoke that response in me.
And yet, that only made the idea more alluring. Was it even possible to make Dr. Granger lose herself in pleasure? Could her composure be broken?
I opened my eyes and beheld the closest thing I could to that sight.
Hermione's wide eyes instantly locked on mine and held my gaze. Combined with her rapid breathing, her shiny sheen of sweat, and uncontrolled pulses radiating from her core she was the very picture of uninhibited pleasure.
I tucked my arms under her thighs before grabbing her hips, lifting her legs higher and giving my hips more room to move. I sank even deeper into her as I pressed my forehead against hers. I heard her breaths get even shallower and more rapid. I felt her whole body tremble. I kept on pushing in and out of her. Kept pressing into her space and breathing her scent. Kept imagining someone else, someone more.
She came in a shuddering tremble and a keening wail. I kept up the same pace as she rode it out, enjoying how she clenched around me. I paused deep inside her as she came down. I held her close and waited for breathing to even out.
"Harry," she said a few minutes later, "that was astonishing."
I shifted my head to whisper directly into her ear.
"I'm not finished, Granger," I said. I just barely kept myself from saying 'Dr.'
She stiffened but didn't resist as I withdrew. I pulled her off the table then turned her around and bent her over it. I wasn't violent but I was more than firm in doing so.
Her ass lay bare before me, but it wasn't enough. It was high and tight, perfectly fine, but I couldn't help but long for the broad pillowy ass that I had spied on from the door crack this morning.
I grabbed her hips and lifted them until her back was pleasantly arched. She looked back in confusion but I grabbed a fistful of her hair and firmly pushed her face against the table. My other hand I kept on her waist to hold her steady.
"Harry?" she asked, her tone plaintive and searching.
My hand left her hips just long enough to slap her tight ass. Her body tensed as if trying to get up, but went nowhere as my hands held her down.
"What's-" she began, but I spanked her again and even harder.
She seemed to get the idea and stopped talking. I took my cock in hand and started rubbing its tip up and down her pussy lips. I imagined a different set of lips. I thought of her mother's dark red lipstick pressing up against my cockhead. I entered Hermione and thought of those lips parting to welcome my cock into Dr. Granger's mouth.
I found myself pumping in and out as fast as I could manage. Before long, Hermione's body lost its tension and settled into the face-down, ass-up posture I'd forced her into. My erection started to soften and I realized it was because I'd stopped imagining Dr. Granger. I rectified that at once, recalling her naked back as she put on her makeup. I imagined her bent over her vanity, still putting on her makeup with casual disregard as I pounded into her from behind.
I was painfully hard once more and did my best to hold that image in my mind as I railed into Hermione.
"Oh! Oh! OH!" she shouted as she came again.
All I could think was that she was distracting me and I wracked my brain to come up with another appealing image so I wouldn't soften up again. Back to her face and her lips. Would those plump lips ever condescend to plant kisses up and down my length? Would her tongue ever come out just to lick along the underside of my cock? Would her eyes pierce me all the while, seeing how easily she could make me come undone?
I found myself coming then, eagerly pressing my hips against Hermione's ass, going as deep as I could and spraying my load even further.
"Fuck," I said.
I felt intense relief at the release but also guilt. I had treated Hermione much more roughly than I usually would and I hadn't bothered asking about it ahead of time. I turned my thoughts to Dr. Granger and hoped to find some dimming of the desire that I felt for her.
And yet.
"Fuck," I repeated.
I pulled out of Hermione and gently ran my hand up the curve of her ass to the small of her back. I opened my mouth with an apology on my lips but stopped. She was asleep.
-------------------------------------
She gently floated back into consciousness. There was a haze about her that was a bit like comfort but she had trouble pinning it down. Was it the fluffy bathrobe wrapped tightly around her? Hmm, not quite. The firm surface of the couch? Wait, had she taken a nap on the couch? She searched her memories and found the answer. Her last memories were of Harry bending her over the kitchen table and taking her with more passion than he ever had before. He must have fucked her unconscious. And that comfortable haze that swaddled her must be the afterglow persisting through however long her nap had been.
Clink.
Her eyes shot open and took in her mother setting down her tea.
She knew, of course, what Hermione and Harry had been up to. She could usually be counted on to know things and in this particular instance, she had done a fair job of facilitating her experiencing the greatest shag of her life.
Which was not a normal thing for a mother to do, it must be said.
"Where's Harry?" she asked.
She started to gather the energy needed to sit up and fully engage in this conversation.
"I spied him swimming laps as I came in. He seems to be trying to work out some feelings," she paused long enough for them to meet each other's eyes and confirm that they both knew what feelings were being referenced. "He seems like he'll be out for quite a bit longer."
So, she knew about Harry's feelings, too. Wait, of course, she knew about them, she had told Harry to imagine herself while Harry fucked Hermione. This was letting Hermione know. Or perhaps it was just introducing that already shared understanding as the topic of conversation. That and also offering to keep it all as subtext, should Hermione want to do so.
Hermione sat up, crossed her legs at the ankles, and noticed a steaming cup of tea on a saucer before her. She went for it immediately.
"Thanks, mum," she said automatically.
"You are most welcome," she replied, but in a tone of voice that well covered the other thing she could be thankful for. That is, getting Harry all hot and bothered and turning him loose on Hermione.
Hermione paused as she thought of how to proceed and her mother let her.
She wasn't feeling particularly adversarial but felt that she should. It might be the strength of the afterglow was muting her ill will. A neutral tone would let her gather more information and choose an approach later.
"It is quite the situation that we've found ourselves in," Hermione said.
She observed her mother, but the woman was hardly one to show her feelings so easily.
"Hmm, and what situation might that be, dear," she responded.
Ah, perhaps subtext wasn't an option after all. Or was her mother after something else in getting Hermione to lay things out?
"The situation where Harry is thinking of you while shagging me," she said. "A situation that you encouraged."
Her mother's lips gently compressed as she restrained an expression of full disappointment from blooming.
"Ah, but that is not the root of the issue, but rather a result of how I responded," her mother said. "The issue is that poor Harry fell deeply in love with me the moment he saw me. All I have done is to redirect his amorous intent as best as I am able."
"Did he come on to you?" Hermione asked.
"Not as such, no," she replied. "He has remained bodily faithful to you. His eyes, however, have strayed substantially and, in their function as windows to his soul, have remained remarkably open."
Hermione grimaced at the reminder that legilimancy was not always needed to read minds. Harry's feelings were as apparent as they were strong. She had liked that about him until those feelings had turned to her mother. But perhaps they could be turned again. She needed time.
"Do you intend to leave him?" her mother asked.
The question made sense. That was, after all, what one did with boyfriends who fell out of love with one. And yet, it had not for a moment occurred to Hermione to do so. Now that she considered it, she still didn't feel so inclined. Was she just being stubborn? Well, that was almost certain, but was she being unreasonably stubborn? Even after giving it considerable thought, she wasn't sure.
"I don't want to give up on us quite yet," Hermione finally said.
"Hmm," her mother said. Or commiserated? Or prompted? She could be so aloof sometimes.
"Do you think that's a bad idea?" Hermione asked.
"As with matters of the heart, thinking might not have much to do with it, dear," she said.
Matters of the heart. Hers and Harry's both. A double-edged caution. She shouldn't trust herself to be logical about the situation, but neither should she rush to judge Harry for having feelings that he couldn't control.
"Be that as it may…" Hermione admitted.
"Would you like to change accommodations, then?" her mother asked.
"I don't think that will be necessary, mother," she said. "I think we should be able to ride this out."
Clink!
Her mother's teacup hit its plate and she looked her directly in the face.
"And what," she said, "do you mean by that?"
Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Notes:
This was surreal.
"I know you have feelings for my mother," she had said, "but it's ok. We can get through this. We can use this."
This didn't make any sense.
I held Hermione's hips as I thrust in and out of her. My hands squeezed what little flesh there was. My eyes, though, were elsewhere.
" It's a crush, a wave of emotion," she had said. " Just ride it out, and make sure you hold onto me till the end."
Dr. Granger held my gaze unflinchingly. I could hardly look anywhere but her eyes. They were dark, vibrant, passionate. My cock throbbed inside of her daughter's pussy.
A twitch of her lips showed that she knew very well what effect she was having on me.
"Makes it easier, doesn't it?" she asked. "You hardly have to imagine what's right in front of you."
She leaned forward slowly and suddenly it was her lips that I couldn't help but stare at. Full and painted a dark red, they drew mine toward them like magnets. I might have fallen forward if her delicate hands hadn't pressed against my naked chest. The touch, the kiss, they felt like a goddess condescending to meet with a mere mortal. And yet my passion was met equally. Our lips interlocked and squeezed together. Her fingers wound through my hair and her chest pressed against mine. One of my hands traced the lines of her jaw, neck, and collarbone while the other held fast to Hermione's hips as I picked up speed.
I pulled my lips back barely long enough to mutter "Bloody hell," before I kissed Dr. Granger again and continued fucking her daughter. Both actions grew frantic and jerky and my lips slipped from Dr. Granger's. She pressed her forehead against mine, held my face with both hands and stared into my eyes.
"Go on," she said.
And I did. I positively erupted into Hermione and my whole body shuddered but I somehow couldn't close my eyes to Dr. Granger's gaze.
"Fucked unconscious again," she said.
It took me a moment to put together that she was talking about Hermione. To remember that Hermione was there, even.
"It makes one wonder, doesn't it?" she said.
Before I could process all the things that could mean, she had pressed a quick, firm kiss against my lips and left the room.
"Holy fuck," I said to no one.
The music thumping from the living room seemed oddly bright and cheery.
I guess it wasn't odd in itself, it just happened to be juxtaposed to the maelstrom of deep feelings I found myself trapped within.
As I descended the staircase, I discovered the music to be coming from an exercise program on the telly. Some of the thumps were from Hermione following along.
She was quite the sight. Tight black exercise shorts went about halfway down her thighs. They were the type that were so tight that they followed the inward curve of her ass and left very little to the imagination. She also wore a bright pink sports bra that did little more than the essence of its design: covering and stabilizing Hermione's modest breasts.
I paused as a sense of disequilibrium came over me.
Days ago, this would have sent me over the edge. I could picture myself rushing down to snog Hermione for all she was worth. I could practically feel her legs wrap around me as I held her by the ass. I could imagine my most urgent dilemma being between putting her down and taking the time to undress her or just ripping a hole through which to fuck her.
Those thoughts were present and immediate but lacking. They were the ghost of what was.
Instead, the strange reality of the past few days asserted itself. I wasn't content with Hermione. I didn't want her thin legs, tight ass, and flat stomach. I wanted to see Dr. Granger in that outfit. I wanted shorts that exposed every glorious inch of bounteous ass. I wanted to see a sports bra struggle to contain her bust. I wanted to interrupt her video and substitute it with a different sort of workout.
"Hey Harry," she said without looking back. "Like what you see?"
She bent into a downward dog that I noticed wasn't what the telly was currently instructing.
"Definitely," I said.
These last few days had shown me that there was, after all, a difference between liking and loving.
"I could stand to be interrupted," she said.
Was she flexing her butt at me?
"Yeah?" I said.
It sounded more flat than I had intended.
She rolled over into a sit and looked at me.
"I was hoping," she eventually said, "that we could get her out of your system. That bringing her in would build some positive associations with me. Use her to flavor the dish, then let her go. That hasn't worked, has it?"
I felt pinned.
"I don't want to hurt you," I said. "I wouldn't have chosen any of this. I just can't help…"
"You can't help the way you feel," she sighed.
I nodded.
"So when you see me like this, all you think about is her?" she asked.
"I, uh, I remember how I would have felt, you know, when it was just you. It's still kinda there, but it's overshadowed by D-, by her."
"I see," Hermione said. "I'm still hoping the association strategy pays off. It was always going to be more medium than short-term. And I think a higher fitness level will help me last longer. It might change the equation a bit. I'm still brainstorming more solutions."
She stared off in thought which gave me a chance to collect my own thoughts.
"Hermione," I began, "this isn't fair to you. Not at all. I'd understand-"
"No, Harry," she said. "I'm not giving up on us and neither are you. Now get over here."
So I did. I mimed the ghost of past me. I pulled her sweaty head into a snog. I grabbed her tight little ass and held her by it as she wrapped herself around me. I leaned her up against a wall as she ground her barely-covered pussy against my waist. I let her down and tugged her tight shorts off of her. I lifted her back up against the wall and palmed one of her breasts through the sports bra as she leaned forward.
"It's ok," she whispered directly into my ear. "It's ok if you think of her. It's ok if she's here and you kiss her. It's all ok as long as you end up with me."
I'm not sure who she was trying to convince.
But maybe she was right. Maybe the overwhelming force of emotion that had carried me away would set me back down right where I started. Like a lucky cow in a tornado.
I kissed her, pressed my body against hers, and freed a hand to tangle in her hair and control the angle of her head as I deepened our snog.
Maybe this whole situation wasn't exactly what it felt like. Maybe I hadn't fallen in love with Dr. Granger at first sight. Maybe it wasn't the case that I had only ever likedHermione. Maybe my feelings for Dr. Granger would fade and what I had with Hermione would grow into something more passionate.
Hermione had undone my trousers at some point and was angling my cock towards her entrance. I adjusted her hips and mine and pressed forward into her. Both my hands were back on her ass and our foreheads pressed together. Her gaze on mine was so passionate, so determined and loving. It felt like an indictment.
I closed my eyes against the guilt and started pumping in and out of her cunt. What would this feel like with her ? Would she ever allow herself to be pressed against a wall like this? It was hard to picture her in any situation where she wasn't in absolute control. But that just made it all the more enticing to imagine. What would it look like when shewas in the throes of passion? What would it take for her to let someone disrupt her perfect poise and control?
"Getting started early today?" she said.
My heart skipped a beat and my cock throbbed. I opened my eyes and watched her approach. She had clearly just come from the shower. She wore a bathrobe and her hair fell about her head in damp curls. The bathrobe wasn't silk, feature-hugging, or even the least bit skimpy. It looked fluffy and comfortable. She had no make-up on. She wasn't trying to be sexy or alluring.
And yet.
My eyes couldn't help but search for the fractional bits of her form that her robe revealed. Her gaze might have been less striking without her eyeshadow and her lips without their dark paint. Somehow, though, they were no less magnetic. Somehow, I was no less entranced by her. Somehow another day had dawned and my love for her had not diminished by a single bit.
Fuck me.
She had continued walking towards us and laid a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was still fire upon my skin.
"Don't stop on my account, love ," she said.
What? Oh, I had stopped fucking Hermione at some point. I consciously began pumping in and out again, my cock now feeling overhard and oversensitive. She began tracing lines of pleasure up and down my back.
"I had a thought," she said.
She was closer now, her robe making contact all along the side of my body. My brain went into overdrive trying to figure out what was just the fluff of her robe and what was her felt through the robe.
"It occurred to me that part of your… feelings might be based on body type," she said.
A hand grabbed the back of my neck with an iron grip. It was just Hermione. She was quivering all over. Was she orgasming already?
"That will fix itself over time," she said. "Hermione's hips will widen, her curves will start filling out."
Her voice was in my ear and vibrated straight through to my soul. She was loud enough that Hermione could hear, but she might not be able to listen at this point.
"There is a shortcut, though," she said.
Hermione's twitching grew more pronounced and her pussy began to squeeze erratically. Meanwhile, it was all I could do to not lean into the light touches of Dr. Granger's lips as she talked against my ear.
"Knock her up, Harry," she said. "Plant your seed in her and watch her grow into the kind of woman you want. Watch her become more like me."
I could see it in my mind's eye. Hermione's hips would widen, her breasts and ass would swell. She would become a woman instead of a girl.
And yet.
I pulled out of Hermione's limp form. She was either unconscious or as good as. I lowered her form to the ground and let her slump against the wall. I turned toward Dr. Granger who turning a disappointed look on her daughter.
"There's just one problem with that plan," I said.
Her gaze returned to me and I somehow held up under its intensity.
"She's not the one I want; I want you," I said. "I want to make love to you . I want to spend my life with you, youare the one I'd want to get pregnant."
My hand had reached forward to hold her neck, to lock us into this until it was resolved, but it ended up stroking her cheek.
"Don't say things you don't mean," she said.
"I've meant everything I've said to you," the words escaped me before I could consider them.
Her eyes widened and her expression went a bit slack.
A small part of me, the part that wasn't stuck in the maelstrom, rejoiced at seeing a crack in her composure.
One of her hands wound through my hair and held my head in place. The other grabbed my still-hard cock. I suppressed a full-body shudder in order to meet her gaze. To show her… to show her something that I couldn't name. Something that I, nevertheless, knew she could discern.
"You say that you love me," she said. "You probably said that to my daughter too. How do I know you mean it this time? How can you be sure it will last?"
Her hand started to slowly pump back and forth. It told me that she actually expected an answer, that her questions weren't a rejection. It also made it all but impossible to think of anything except for the feel of her soft fingers and firm grip.
"I did say that to her and I did mean it, but I didn't know," I said.
She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against mine. Her proximity drove me crazy. I don't know how I gathered my thoughts, let alone formed words.
"What didn't you know?" she asked.
"I didn't know it could be like this!" I said. "It's like, like I was a ship in a harbor and I thought I knew the sea. And now, I've been blown out into a storm. Maybe there's something else passed the horizon. Maybe I'll get there. But all I can see right now is the storm. I can't see any future without you."
"You can't just say these things," she muttered.
She pulled me into a heated desperate kiss. She pulled back after a small eternity. My dazed mind couldn't keep up with her and I found that she had taken off her robe, pushed me onto a chair, and straddled me. I still couldn't process things fast enough. I was dismayed that I missed the chance to ogle her naked body before it was pressed against mine. I was overjoyed, overwhelmed by all of her touching all of me. A single touch or kiss had been enough to set my nervous system alight. Now, she snogged me in earnest, her breasts pressed against my heaving chest, her stomach undulated against mine as her hips pressed her naked pussy lips against the underside of my turgid cock.
Holy fuck.
My hands had gripped her hips and followed their motion without applying any force. I… I couldn't believe what was happening, despite having imagined it over and over and over again.
"This is your chance," she breathed into my ear. "Go for it. Make love to me, fuck me, breed me if you can. Just do it before I think better of this indulgence."
My hands had the temerity to grab her face and hold her in front of me. I looked into her eyes. I saw there all the passion and fire and none of the usual restraint.
It was impossible that she could want me as much as I wanted her; this couldn't be.
And yet.
Even goddesses occasionally spent a night with a mortal, at least in the stories. This was my chance, my one night, my gift from on high.
It felt wrong to feel the way I did about Dr. Granger. Like my intentions and thoughts sullied her beauty. It felt even more wrong to be pressed up against her, to be a single move away from entering her. What I was about to do felt like a major trespass, but it also felt like being given everything I had ever wanted.
I shifted my hips, angled my cock, and pressed against her. Into her. I savored the feeling of her pressing all around and against me. Then I started savoring all of her. I moved like a starving man at a feast. My lips pressed against hers. First the top, then the bottom lip. I kissed, licked, and suckled her lips her face, her neck, and her breasts. Up and down and back again and again and again.
My fingers traced lines up and down her long legs from the arches of her feet to her plump ass. I couldn't stop grabbing her ass, experimenting with taking different handfuls of her. I'd grab her hips to hold her still while I pumped into her from below. I'd graze my fingertips over the delicate skin of her ribs and back. I stroked, teased, gripped, and groped at her perfect, pale breasts.
I did everything I could think to do and then did it again. I drank as much of her in as I could so I wouldn't regret any missed opportunity. Time had no meaning as I sank into each moment.
Eventually, she leaned back and pressed her hands into my chest.
I thought for a moment that she had finished indulging me and would cast me off.
Instead, her pussy gripped my cock tighter than anything ever had before. Her hips started moving in earnest and her eyes stared right into my soul. My hands returned to her hips and followed her lead.
My breaths became rapid and shallow, as did hers. That combined with her thrusting caused her breasts to jiggle and shake in the most compelling way. And yet, my eyes were drawn to hers by some gravity that I couldn't fight.
We stepped closer and closer to the edge. We could feel it in ourselves as well as each other.
"Ah, ah!" she started exclaiming.
Her hips mostly kept up her rhythm but became occasionally erratic. I stepped into the gap and used my hands and hips to keep her on pace.
Her inner grip on me began to pulse, drawing me over the edge with her. She finally lost all sense of rhythm as I lost all sense of restraint. I hugged her waist as my hips thrust themselves into her and I spilled into her.
She collapsed against me and our bodies melted into each other. I knew, then, two truths. I could die happy. Dr. Granger had been everything I didn't dare or even know to dream about. Also, somehow without contradiction, I knew that I could never be truly happy without her.
"Holy fucking hell."
I pulled air into my lungs a few times before I realized it wasn't me who had said it.
Chapter 4
Summary:
More talking over tea and Harry puts in a good day's work.
Notes:
'Holy fucking hell.'
Tingtingting.
Slurp.
Clink.
I looked up from my tea and found that both Granger women were as wrapped up in their thoughts as I was in mine.
Slurp.
Clink.
I had been thinking about this all wrong. Or maybe things had changed on me.
'Holy fucking hell.'
Those weren't the words of an indifferent goddess. They were words that I had made happen. They were words that I might make happen again. If again, then perhaps again and again and again.
Regardless, I had a shot at something more than a fling with Dr. Granger and I had to take it. Not like I was being forced to, but I would simply always choose to go after her in any world I could imagine. Which meant…
I really had to break it off with Hermione. This wasn't fair to her at all. It was hardly more than a farce at this point.
"Hermione," I said, "I think-"
"No," Hermione interrupted. "I don't need to hear what you have to say. Not now. Not while you're… compromised."
I looked at her as she carefully avoided looking directly at me. There was something going on here that I couldn't quite parse. I looked to Dr. Granger whose lips twitched in what I thought was concern for her daughter.
"I think that…" Hermione began. She paused and stared into her teacup before looking directly at her mother.
"Mum, I think you should fuck him."
Tea sprayed from my mouth.
What the fuck is going on?
I was about to voice my consternation when Dr. Granger silenced me with a quick look. Hermione didn't look break her mother's gaze.
"Why do you think that would help, dear?" she asked.
Her composure didn't even falter for an instant. How could she act like this was a normal conversation to have?
"I think Harry's imagination may have gotten the better of him," she said. "He meets you, gets a bit of a crush, and can't help but wonder 'what if?' He probably imagines that being with you would be some impossibly beautiful and transcendent experience. He's in love with this idea that happens to feature you. If we expose him to reality then he'll have to come to terms with the fantastical nature of his imaginings and move on."
Clinkclinkclink.
Dr. Granger stopped stirring her drink and spoke.
"The success of this approach relies on an unstated premise. The same premise that has served as the foundation for your entire approach to this… situation."
Um, what?
Hermione gulped.
"You may want to consider the consequences should this premise prove to be false."
My eyes darted between the two of them. Dr. Granger's expression, of course, gave nothing away. Hermione, though, looked stricken. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and firmed her gaze.
"There's nothing to consider, mother. Fantasy is not reality."
"If you say so, dear," Dr. Granger said.
"I do say so," Hermione said.
There was a marked contrast between the two. Hermione's fierce determination set her face in stone and covered up… something underneath the surface. Dr. Granger, meanwhile, maintained her cool composure and might well have been talking about the weather for all her face showed.
"I'll be taking him to work with me, today," Dr. Granger said. "He can fill in for my secretary and it would be nice to get to know him better before, you know."
Her embarrassment at finishing the sentence was clearly feigned. I opened my mouth- and shut it an instant later as her hand grasped my leg.
I looked over at Hermione, understanding that this was not about me. This was about gauging Hermione's reaction.
She swallowed heavily.
"That's fine," she said. "I could do with some time for revising anyway. It's never too soon to prepare for the next school year."
"That's the spirit," Dr. Granger said.
She turned to me.
"Best if you change into a nice pair of trousers and a button-up," she said. "I assume your oral skills are at least serviceable. You know, answering the phone, manning the desk, and whatnot?"
That had definitely been on purpose.
I froze, caught between wanting to banter back and the heavy sense of Hermione's presence.
"Oh, I've found him to be very talented, orally," Hermione said.
What?
"I'm just not sure working at your office will really give him the opportunity to showcase his talents."
Was she hoping that I'd be too much for her mother to handle? I realized I was gawking when Dr. Granger's hand gave my thigh a squeeze.
"Oh, uh, I'll go get changed then," I said.
Her eyes moved up and down my body for the fifth time this car ride. I wouldn't mind except that she seemed disappointed.
"Something the matter?" I asked.
"Hmm," she said. "There's nothing exactly wrong with what you're wearing but it's not quite right either. I'll have to take you shopping for a new wardrobe if we're going to continue to be associated . Sooner rather than later."
I looked down at my trousers and shirt. They were certainly miles better than castoffs that I used to wear. On the other hand, I would trust Dr. Granger's eye for fashion far more than my own.
"You don't need to worry yourself about it," she said, "I'll take care of you."
My heart bloomed. I didn't really understand why. I could see this sort of thing driving me crazy with other people. An implied judgment, a solution offered with no input from me even when it was all about me. And yet, I trusted Dr. Granger. I felt confident both in her abilities and her care for me.
"So, about Hermione," I said.
She hmmed.
"I was about to break things off with her," I admitted. "It's you I love, and leaving her on the hook like this isn't fair to her. Or to either of us, for that matter."
Somehow, her smile grew without a movement that I could detect.
"It's good to hear you say it," she said, "but it's also unnecessary. We both knew exactly what you were about to say and why."
I felt my face scrunch up.
"But, why-"
"Do you trust me?" she cut me off.
"Yes," my lips and heart replied before my brain could catch up.
"Then trust me with this," she said. "It's going to be delicate. It's going to continue to be strange. But I need you to play along to make sure everyone gets their happily ever after."
I thought for a moment.
"Everyone?" I asked.
"Yes. I know you don't want to hurt Hermione. You should know that I want that even less," she said. "There will be discomfort and pain but I plan on subjecting her to as little of both as can be managed."
I took it in. I felt the dissonance, again, between how I would react to others and how I felt with Dr. Granger.
"I trust you," I said.
Suddenly her fingers were in my hair and scratching my scalp in a way that sent shivers down my spine and throughout my body.
"Good boy."
"Granger Dentistry, how can I help you?" I said. "Uh-huh, yes I see you here. I've got you down for the 18th at 2:00. Uh-huh, let me look, yes, I can change you right over to the 22nd. No worries, bye."
I hung up the phone. It really wasn't too bad of a gig. I just had to answer the phones and see people in to their appointments. And, of course, be friendly while doing so. Once Dr. Granger showed me how the scheduling system worked, I was good to go.
A warm firm hand squeezed my shoulder.
"You made it, love," Dr. Granger said.
"I'm happy to help," I said. "It's nice to feel useful."
I turned towards her and had to catch my breath despite having seen her throughout the day. Her lab coat now hung open, revealing her professional white blouse and dark pencil skirt. Both hugged her body in just the right way, showing off her figure without crossing over into being unprofessional. The skirt ended above her knees and revealed plenty of her legs which were covered with dark stockings. She wore aggressively high heels which she must have changed into since I distinctly remembered her wearing flats while working.
Her lips twitched into a slight smirk when my eyes finally found her face again. Her lipstick was a tad lighter than what I had seen her in before but was still a dark red that complemented both her eyeshadow and eyeliner.
"Well, come on back to my office," she said. "I'm sure that I can put you to use while I finish up today's paperwork."
She turned and walked away. I watched her ass sway and jiggle to the click-clack of her heels. I still couldn't believe that I had been with her. That I might even get the privilege of making love to her again. That I might hope to do so regularly-
She cleared her throat and I hurried to follow her.
"Lock the door behind you," she said.
I locked the door behind me. She closed the blinds.
"Come here," she said.
I went to her.
She grabbed my wrists and kissed me.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Forcefully.
She pushed my arms behind my back.
Click.
Rigid pressure around my wrists. Handcuffs probably. I kept kissing her. Kept being kissed by her. Her hands were on my face, in my hair, caressing and scratching, gripping and holding.
She drew back.
"Get under the desk," she said.
It was a bit awkward with my hands behind my back, but I lowered myself down and backed myself under her desk. There was room for me, if only just.
I could only see her legs, now, but it was enough for me. I admired the arch of her feet, the way that the heels activated and flexed her calves and thighs.
"We're going to see if there's any truth to Hermione's boasts, or if this is another of her desperate illusions," she said.
I saw her hands reach down to the hem of her skirt and pull it up around her waist. Glorious inches of her stockings were revealed but my breath caught when they ended. Her soft pale flesh contrasted deliciously with her dark stockings and garters. Her legs pressed together as she sat down and I was left wanting more. Wanting to see all of her.
"Well," her voice was slightly muffled as it came through and around the desk, "show me that your 'oral skills' aren't all talk."
I heard her begin typing away at her computer. She really was going to do paperwork while I was down here. Something about the whole situation turned me on. Something besides, well, in addition to, Dr. Granger herself.
With her legs closed, I couldn't dive right in so I leaned as low as I could without falling over. I gave soft lingering kisses up and down her calves. I yearned to hold and rub her feet in my hands. To massage her calves and feel their supple muscle.
This wasn't about me, though. It was about giving all the pleasure I could to Dr. Granger in whatever way she allowed me to.
I pressed my face against her calf and rubbed up and down the length of it. The texture added a delicious bit of friction. I went back to kissing and let my sensitive lips and tongue feel the infinitesimal and infinite scratches of the fabric.
Her legs parted slightly but I restrained myself. I didn't wedge my head in and try to lever a larger opening as much as I might have wished to. No, I took the opportunity to kiss and suck along the inside and back of her calves. I took my time. Minutes spent worshipping each leg before I got to the back of her knee. I switched to using my tongue to trace light tickles and worked my way up into a full snog.
Something felt off. I just had time to realize that her legs were vibrating before they flexed and stopped.
I couldn't help my smile, not sure if I was glad or sad that she couldn't witness my impudence.
Her legs were more open now. I shuffled forward on my knees and started in on her thighs. I stuck to the sensitive inside, now, though I took my time in climbing towards her pussy. Tiny licks, tiny kisses, lines and circles traced with my nose. Big licks with the flat of my tongue, snogs that took large portions of her thigh into my mouth. Soft bites.
I had closed my eyes to focus on her pleasure when my nose came across a change in texture. Stockings gave way to soft tender flesh. My nose ran back and forth along that line as my mouth peppered the last bit of her stockings with kisses.
I started to lick her just above the stocking line and feinting a slow straight approach to her pussy. I went a few inches before retreating backwards and dedicating myself to her bare thigh. Her skin seemed infinitely soft but I could also feel the hard muscles underneath. They quaked again, this time for much longer before she forced herself to stop.
I wondered how her work was going. I probably could have made a good guess if I had kept my ears open to her typing but I was focused on her in a different way.
It was easier now. Easier to form a seal and suck. Easier to entice a mouthful of her into a bite. Easier to feel out the most sensitive bits.
Minutes passed before I started climbing again. Slowly, inexorably. I found my nose brushing against her pubic hair and took the chance to inhale deeply. This time, it I who was shaking. Her musky scent filled my nose and lungs. I couldn't tell why exactly it was so pleasurable, just that it was.
I used my nose to scratch at her mound and gave the lightest glancing touches of my lips upon hers. She jerked at each contact and I could feel that her body had opened itself up to me. I pressed my face against her to keep our relative positions fixed and traced the very tip of my tongue up and down her outer lips. Up and down. Over and over and over. Her legs quivered and quaked but I didn't let the movement throw me off. Instead, I let went up further and found her clit with the tip of my tongue. A lit circle around it. Another. A broad flat lick into a kiss and a light suck. Then I was back to feather-lite licking along her labia throwing in occasional circles of her clit.
Now her thighs squeezed against the sides of my head.
I pressed the advantage and pressed a broad lick against the lower part of her lips and dragged it ever so slowly up and across her whole pussy. Her hands were in my hair now, gripping but not pressing me forward. Not yet.
I licked and sucked at her clit again. Lightly. Just long enough to arouse and tease, not enough to settle into a rhythm.
Then I worked my way back down. I pressed firm kisses against her along the way. I took my time crossing those mere inches. She was spread wide enough now that my lips easily felt when I reached her entrance. I opened my kiss. The tip of my tongue teased around it. Teased the center of it. Pressed in. My tongue worked in tiny back-and-forths until it was as far inside of her as I could reach. Then I switched to long and slow movements. All the way out and all the way in, slowly building speed as the rhythm of her body allowed.
Now she was losing control. Her legs were clamped around my head and I'd have likely passed out if it were my neck. Her fingers gripped my skull tightly and pressed me towards her.
I wished that my hands were free. I could replace my tongue with my fingers and lick her lips and clit while finger-fucking her.
Instead, I had to choose between going after her clit or continuing to tongue-fuck her. My tiring tongue and jaw made the decision for me.
I decelerated my thrusts and licked back up her lips to her clit. There I set a rhythm, circling it, flicking it, and sucking it. I made it predictable and slowly picked up the pace. My head was heating up from her body surrounding me as well as her thighs starting to restrict my circulation. This eased in part as her legs began to quake uncontrollably. I had to keep adjusting my position as her hips buked wildly against my face. I heard her breathing hitch and heave whenever her legs weren't covering my ears.
I kept going even as I drank in the signs of her reaction. It was an incredible privilege to make Dr. Granger feel this way. It was more than a privilege. It was hard to even imagine it as a possibility that I could bring pleasure like this to a goddess like Dr. Granger. Something about it didn't seem right. Not in a moral sense, but in a possibility sense.
Minutes stretched on as she rode the high feelings of her orgasm. I kept up the same motions and the same speed. My jaw and tongue ached and I longed to be able to use my hands, but I contented myself with offering her what I could on her terms.
Her legs and hands gripped me tightly and held me still for a long moment before she relaxed. I relaxed my pace and rhythm. Letting her fall from her high with more mild stimulation. It also allowed me more attention to enjoy the taste and feel and smell of her. A smile stretched my face as I licked around her entrance.
She gently spread her fingers through my hair before tilting my head back to look at her face.
Her face glowed with spent pleasure. Her face and chest were flushed pink and coated with a light sheen of sweat.
"You're such a good boy," she said.
Part of me preened and another part simply knew that I would never be worthy of her, no matter what she thought.
"Good boys deserve rewards," she said.
Her expectant look and continued silence meant I had to come up with something. But that didn't seem right. It felt only natural that I give her what pleasure I could. That I conform to her desires and limitations… actually-
I leaned forward and gave her pussy a lingering kiss.
"This time," I said, "let me use my hands."
Her laugh was sudden, loud, and absolutely full of genuine delight. I think I'd do as much to elicit that laugh from her as I would for her moans of pleasure.
"Oh, you're much more than just a good boy," she said.
She pushed my head back into her crotch as she retrieved the keys and leaned over to undo my handcuffs. The metal fell away from my sore wrists and I put my hands to immediate use massaging her calves.
"And I'm never letting you go."