Slow
Just inside my bedroom door, we stop and turn toward each other. His black eyes glitter inscrutably. How does he manage to look down his nose at me when we are the same height? A perception spell? A little smile quirks his lip and I know.
“Quit that.” He touches his wand in his pocket and it disappears. “You don’t scare me.”
“Oh, I don’t?” -- Menacingly, drawing himself up.
“Okay, a little. But don’t do it now.”
“No.”
I step back. “I want to look at you.”
He gives a small, dismissive head-shake. “If you like.”
He has broad shoulders against such very slim hips. Not a bit of extra flesh on him; his trousers stretch straight across his hipbones like a tight wire. Yet he bears the signs of middle age, a slight softness around the middle, looseness under the upper arm, a crinkling at the base of the throat. Poignant – like Desdemona, I love him for the dangers he has passed.
A small sprinkling of straight black hairs decorates his chest, gathering into a downward rivulet below his navel. His nipples are dark and small, with a little concavity at the sternum. His thighs are long and absolutely straight. I wonder what it would be like to hold them in my hands. He stands in trousers and socks. When has he lost his boots?
“Are we done looking now?” he asks sarcastically.
“Never. But I can stop for a while, if you wish.”
“Yes. Come here.”
Shivering anticipation. Then the silk and scent of his skin envelop me. For a moment we fold together, taking a long breath as our bodies meet.
“You’re very soft,” he says.
“Yes. You can have all you want.” He tightens his arms around me, pushing off my green shirt, and gently bites the crook of my neck. I murmur my pleasure, leaning in to rub my chill-stiffened nipples against his chest. After a while my hands go where they want to be, on his hipbones, thumbs rubbing under the waistband of his trousers. His navel is absolutely flat.
“You’re looking again,” he says.
“You’re so different from me.”
“Yes. I’m a man and you’re a woman. Frankly, I prefer this.” Stroking the curve of my belly.
“I like this.” I bend and take his nipple in my mouth.
‘Oh –“ He cocks his hip against me. I move over and suck the other one, drawing little huffs of pleasure from him.
“I want to learn you,” I say.
“Fine, fine. Are we planning to stand here all night?”
“I don’t know, are we?”
“Lie down.” He leads me to the bed. I kick the covers to the bottom and roll onto my back, inviting. He shucks off his pants – oh mysterious dark pubic nest! -- but sits with his impossibly long legs folded beneath him, regarding me steadily.
“Are you going to sit there all night?”
“No, I’m –“ But he shakes his head.
I hold out my arms. With a sigh, he stretches out beside me. We lay our heads on the same pillow and he takes my hands in his, holding them to his chest.
He catches me with those black eyes, tensed, as if it hurts to look. Like a touch. He makes love with his eyes. Wanting to gather him into my arms but motionless holding his gaze instead. A hush falls over us, all banter, push-and-pull, mock- and real hostility set aside.
Face to face. “Your eyes are so dark,” I say. Tenderness a pain in my chest. His beautiful-ugly face, opening for me, the look of wary longing that beckons and arouses me, the vulnerable white softness of his skin.
My words bubbling up and spilling over, “I love you. I love you. Darling Severus. Sweet darling man.” Another head-shake. “Yes. Let me. Let me show you.” Kissing all over his face, raking my fingers through his silky hair, and now, laying my chest on his, wiggling with pleasure. His breathy “Oh –“ Wraps his arms around me. I fit my face up under his jaw for the scent of his neck. “So slow. I want to love you all over. Sweet man.” Finally he shuts me up, nosing my face up to his and laying his upper lip between mine. Breathing together for a moment, then he opens and his tongue touches mine, stroking, exploring the corners, the roof of my mouth, the peak of my upper lip. I put my hands up and hold his face. He stops then continues his long, focused kisses.
Drawing out and drawing out. A long time passes with touching and tasting and biting and finding new places for fingers, noses and tongues.
Not speaking but crooning in the back of my throat. What is good for me is good for him what is good for him is good for me my pleasure his joy his pleasure my joy, running through me like a song. Reaching down to stroke his cock and feel his moan pass through me like electric water. His hand cupping my breast, picture his long fingers oh god those longed-for fingers over my breast rubbing my nipple catching them up to suck and feel his body arching up for more of me. It feels good to me to feel good to you.
All over on top of you breathless with so much warm skin the salty smell of you our legs interlaced my body is caressing your body. Your hands all over my back, my arse. My lips by your ear to whisper Love; it’s love.
And you: Yesss. Oh. Yes. Staying with me face to face where my tongue licks your lips our lashes touching your hands in my hair pulling me back to look again into your love making eyes that go straight in so that I feel my wetness against your leg, opening, opening.
I pull back a little on all fours god the look of you, your erect prick so proud, veined and shining you are writhing or trying not to, do you love my little breasts hanging over you. Burying my face in your fur, rubbing my cheek against your balls, giving you what I hope you want, my tongue slickly flicking against your shaft my mouth so fiery and loving taking you in, your cries heartbreaking and hot. Love and desire swirl with my tongue around you with my answering moans.
And then you pull away before it’s too late and roll me over your hand seeking the soft wetness. “For you. It’s you,” I say. Just the feel of it on your fingers and you groan with pleasure just the feel of your long fingers and I’m almost there saying “Don’t stop please don’t stop oh OH” and I give it to you coming to your touch your skin your smell you you.
Coming down with your arms around me your hair draped around my face. Breathe, breathe. You take my wrists and hold them to the bed above my shoulders, in charge . Before you enter you tease me with the head of your cock, no hands. Make me squirm. It takes just a moment I am so ready and I wrap my legs around you, come in deeper, deeper. Now is when I want you to hear it, “Come in come in sweet darling man, darling Severus, my sweetheart, my love.”
And your half-sobbing breath, your slow thrust that I meet pressing my heels into your back, and another another another driven now no stopping until
I hear your words
oh
OH
dear girl
+++++
I’m afraid we were not seen for several days around the Hogwarts campus. I was filled with satisfied longing and sated lust and feared that an indecent amount of it was blazoned on my face. I snuck down early every morning to feed the griffs and left their exercise to Tilda and Thomas. It was the weekend, after all, and then it was only Monday, and all I wanted was to stay with my lover. We read to each other and ate picnics in my sitting room and of course spent much of the time in bed.
Severus felt that arriving at dinner separately come Monday night would reduce speculation. The futility of this device was immediately apparent to me as I came in. Severus was already seated, unfolding his napkin, so he missed the storm of humorous and suggestive eye contact that swirled around us. Minerva McGonagall turned quite pink and pressed her lips together; the alternative seemed to be a laughing fit. Professor Sprout gave a little snort and looked down at her plate. Lupin nudged Hooch in the side, then grinned at me, pointing at Severus with his raised eyebrows. Even Tilda smiled benignly, and Dumbledore looked so genial and congratulatory that for one horrified moment I thought he was going to make a speech. It was as if I had a neon sign over my head stating, “ Finally Went to Bed.” Come to think of it, Professor Snape was taking rather a long time with his napkin and cutlery.
Best defense a good offense. “You people must lead very dull lives,” I scolded as I sat down. “Who is ready for the new term?”
Then, as they say, the conversation became general.