Untitled Ravenclaw Story

(c)2005 by Josh Cohen. May not be reprinted except for personal use. JK Rowling owns the Potterverse; I\'m just here to play around.

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YEAR FOUR: DOUBLE DOWN

Warning: sex ahead.

For the next two days, Samantha and I weren’t really able to get away. Just before the next step in that Jacuzzi, someone had come out into the pool area and we quickly grabbed our suits and put them on.

The mood had evaporated, though, and after drying off, I’d walked Samantha back to her room and then gone back to mine. It took very little to bring myself off once I had the door closed.

The next day had been the first that Aunt Natalie had been allowed out of the hospital, and we used a Portkey to go to her house so she could finally spend some time in her own bed. The Witch Doctor – what Americans called both medi-wizards and medi-witches – came along as well, and Natalie gave over one of the spare rooms to her. Mum and Da decided to stay the night, so Da Apparated back to the hotel and picked up changes of clothes for all of us. When I called Samantha and told her, she wasn’t terribly thrilled, but she understood.

The next day, Aunt Natalie showed us around Melbourne, where she’d lived before coming to Hogwarts. It was about as exciting as Ottery-St-Catchpole, except for the size. Oh, and the beach. I’d never actually been to a real beach before, and it was interesting to go out into the ocean and feel the difference between it, swimming pools, baths, and the lake at Hogwarts.

I asked Da if I could bring Samantha out here, but he vetoed that. “Why not?”

“You can’t just invite someone along to another person’s house, especially when that person is on the mend.”

“Couldn’t I just ask Aunt Natalie?”

“No.” But he softened. “If you want, take the Portkey back to the hotel after dinner. Your mother and I are going to stay here another couple of nights. Just make sure you come back and visit tomorrow.”

I nodded. “I will.”

But that night Samantha’s father had a reception of some sort related to his job, and she had to go with him. She said she’d asked him if I could come, but he’d vetoed that just as quickly as Da had vetoed her coming to Aunt Natalie’s.

On the third day, though, Aunt Natalie invited over a few of her friends for lunch. Da told me I could head back after we ate, but that he and Mum wouldn’t be coming back until the next day, around noon.

When Samantha showed up at my door not ten minutes after I called her to let her know I was back, she was very nearly in tears. I closed the door and pulled her into my arms. “What’s the matter?”

“I have to leave,” she said, half-hoarsely.

“What, now?”

That got a smile. “No, not right now. But we’re checking out tomorrow and flying back to Chicago. My dad’s work here is done for the summer.”

I led her into my room and sat her on the bed, then knelt in front of her, looking up at her. “That sucks,” I said.

“Well, aren’t you leaving Saturday?”

I nodded. “But what am I going to do all day Friday without you here?”

She sniffed, then leaned down and kissed me insistently. After we separated, she grinned. “As long as you’re not doing that with some other American girl, it doesn’t matter.”

I raised myself up enough to kiss her back.

Samantha had been the one to pull my shirt over my head, and then take off her own. She was wearing a rather-chaste white cotton bra, over which I ran my hands. I didn’t want to seem greedy, but we had been interrupted in the middle of something. When she arched her back up so her breasts pressed into my palms, though, and I felt her nipples poking at me, I knew I’d made the right choice. And I was doubly glad I’d taken the potion the moment I got back to the hotel; it took about fifteen minutes to start working.

In short order, the door to my room was closed, locked, and warded, and I’d cast a Silencing Charm. While I’d been doing that, Samantha had brought the lights down and removed the rest of her clothing; she looked like a very sexy silhouette in the dim light from the lamp on the desk. I started to crawl into bed with her, but she held up a hand. “Not yet. Take those off first.”

She was referring to my jeans, which I removed, along with my underwear; her hand came down, and I climbed into the bed.

Without the water, her skin felt like silk and the tingle of magic. It was a bit awkward trying to find a comfortable position in which to kiss without one of us squashing the other in some heretofore-unknown place, but eventually we managed it. Of course, it meant that she was straddling my thighs, my erection quite obvious between our bodies, but she didn’t seem to mind too much.

This time, it was Samantha who kissed her way down my chest until her face was very near to my penis. “You don’t have to do anything,” I said quietly; the response was for her cool hand – I think her left one – to encircle the shaft. “Or you could do that,” I added quickly.

Her laugh brushed warm, moist breath across me. I made that same noise in the back of my throat.

Then I made a substantially louder version as I felt her lips glide over me.

And an even-louder one as she placed the head in her mouth and started lowering her head downward.

“Damn,” she whispered a moment later. “You really are thick.”

I smiled down at her. “Like I said, you don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

She wasn’t able to get the full length in her mouth; I don’t know if it was because of thickness or because she just didn’t have a lot of experience. I didn’t complain. Her lips were like liquid velvet, her tongue like slick sandpaper; she was also extremely enthusiastic, sucking hard, her fingers on the parts she couldn’t swallow, making all sorts of noises with her mouth. Her teeth kept scraping me, which I didn’t mind so much either, to my own surprise.

But things do happen, and I placed a hand on her shoulder. She released me – the entire length was slick and shining; I had felt saliva slip past her lips on several occasions – and looked up. “What?” She was also a little out of breath.

“I’m getting kind of close.”

“That’s okay.” She looked down and licked the tip, and I touched her shoulder again. “No, really, you can come in my mouth, it’s all right.”

“It’s not that.” I took her hand and tugged her gently until she got the message and moved up to meet me; I kissed her lips, which were slick and much softer now.

“If you say you want to fuck me…”

I smiled a little. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, but that’s not why I stopped you.”

“Oh.”

I kissed her again, capturing her tongue between my teeth and nibbling at it this time. My hand slid down her body and between her legs; she allowed it, and my finger slid and slipped against the slick folds of her sex.

When we separated, I got another “oh,” this one longer and more knowing.

I turned Samantha onto her back and started kissing my way down her body. I think she had a pretty good idea of what I had planned, because she made it easy for me to kneel between her ankles. Her breasts had shifted to the sides, as large breasts are wont to do, and I looked up at her. Her blue eyes were like jewels. “I’ve never done this before,” I said. “You’ll have to tell me if I’m getting it right.”

She nodded, her lower lip between her teeth.

I looked down. I could easily see her clitoris, and her wetness glistening on her lips. She looked different from Fiona, but then, I guess if all penises look different, all vaginas must as well. I lowered my face and touched my lips to her clitoris, and she moaned loudly.

There was an interesting scent as well as taste. Fiona had been sweet, almost sickly-sweet, in the way she smelled and tasted. But there was something different about Samantha. I ran the tip of my tongue over her folds, inhaling slightly. There was a hint of the same sweetness there, but also a saltiness and what tasted like charcoal on the back of my tongue.

I placed my fingers gently on the satiny flesh of Samantha’s inner thighs, and she shivered; while she was doing that, I moved in closer, letting my tongue slip between her lips.

Her hand went to my hair. I looked up. “Are you all right?”

“As long as you keep doing that,” she moaned.

So I did. I alternated between long licks and short ones, deep strokes with my tongue and shallow ones, sucking on her clitoris versus licking it or nibbling at it, until I was able to figure out what she liked. She thrashed under me as I ran my tongue over the small nub, and I slowly, as gently as possible, slipped a finger into her.

I met surprisingly-little resistance, and when I looked up at her again, she blushed. “Yeah, I know. You masturbate too, don’t you?”

I smiled at her and turned my hand; Fiona had explained there was a rough spot at the top of most women’s vaginas, and when I touched it—

“Shit!” she yelled, half-sitting up.

I stopped, leaving my finger there but not touching that spot, and I looked up at her. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean…”

But she grinned. “It’s not you. It’s just… holy shit. Do that again, would you?”

I brushed my fingertip against the rough spot, and her pupils dilated even more, until there was only the barest ring of blue around them.

Then she flopped back onto the bed, and I went back to licking her.

I think she was getting close; touching her g-spot had done it. But she seemed frustrated, as if she couldn’t reach her orgasm. “David?” she asked tentatively?

“Mm?” That was against her clitoris; she moaned quietly.

“Um. When I. You know. Um.”

I lifted my head. “You can ask me anything.”

Her face and her chest flushed from this blush. “Um. You know. When I, um, do it? Sometimes…”

I ran my thumb gently over her clit.

“Oh, if you do that I won’t be able to say it.”

“I don’t know that you can say it anyway.”

I brushed her clit again, and she made a low moan. “When I do it,” she tried again, “sometimes, the blanket brushes. Um. Back there? And it feels kind of nice.”

I so wanted to stare at her incredulously, but that would’ve been mean. Instead, I lowered my mouth to her again, drawing out my fingers – I had two inside her now – and pressing my tongue in as deep as I could go.

And with the slick fingers that had been inside her, I touched – just barely, mind – the tiny, tight opening below her vagina.

I swear she nearly broke my teeth the way she bucked up into my mouth.

So that’s what was missing.

With my free hand I tried to hold her hips in place, and I moved my tongue to her clitoris before sucking it into my mouth. With my index finger, I pressed gently between her cheeks, and she started to moan continuously, over and over. I used my middle finger to gather wetness from her sex and touched that there as well, making tiny circles as I circled my tongue over her clitoris.

Her moans got sharper.

I stopped long enough to say, “tell me to stop if you want me to stop.”

But she answered back with “don’t stop, please!” as part of a long, high-pitched moan.

I sucked at her clitoris again, and ever so slightly pressed inward with my middle finger.

She cried out and tried to slide her hips lower; I moved my mouth enough that my finger started sinking into her bottom as I sucked on her.

Her cries became more insistent.

With my other hand, I started thumbing her clitoris, my tongue going deep inside her.

Her back arched.

My finger was almost completely inside her.

My tongue brushed the spot inside her sex.

She screamed.

She came.

And came.

And came.

I very gently removed my finger from Samantha and crawled back up to take her in my arms. She was shaking almost uncontrollably, her mouth open, gasping; her breasts were practically alive the way her chest was moving up and down as she caught her breath.

Finally she came down enough to open her eyes; they glistened with moisture. She kissed me, completely ignorant of the fact that my lips and chin were still damp with her orgasm, her tongue wet and questing as she pushed me onto my back.

Eventually, as her hand wrapped around me again, she broke off the kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely. “That was. Absolutely. Amazing.”

“You’re welcome.”

She slid her way down the bed; I opened my legs enough for her to kneel between them. “Don’t think that means we’re going to fuck,” she warned.

“I wasn’t even going to bring it up.”

“Good.”

Then she lowered her mouth and began sucking again.

I think she may have borrowed a few tricks from my book this time. Her tongue danced around the head, licking behind it; when she drew me further into her mouth, her tongue swirled along the underside. I was still exceedingly aroused; making Samantha come hadn’t done anything for my staying power. But when her fingers went to my balls and began teasing at them, I touched her shoulder again. “I’m getting closer,” I warned her.

She lifted her head. “If I have to tell you you can come in my mouth again, I’m going to stop.”

“Sorry.”

She offered a smile, and then dug her nails into the soft flesh behind my balls. I arched my back, and she captured me in her mouth and began sucking hard and fast, taking more of it each time until, on one stroke, she very nearly gagged and pulled her mouth away.

I was right on that shining edge, just before orgasm.

She wrapped her hand around the base of my penis and took the rest of it into her mouth; she turned her hand back and forth, sucking at the head with very soft lips, and I moaned loudly and exploded into her mouth.

A moan answered mine, vibrating down all the way to the base as I spurted my come into her mouth, holding myself as stiffly as I could so I wouldn’t pull away. I heard the wet sounds of her lips smacking as she sucked and the deeper sounds as she swallowed.

It had been almost forty-eight hours since I’d last brought myself off. There was quite a bit for her to swallow. But she managed it, sucking and licking at the tip of my penis until I started growing softer in her hand. Only then did she shimmy back up the bed and throw her arm and her leg across my body, snuggling into the crook of my shoulder.

“I’m sorry about the sex thing,” she said sleepily. “I’m just not ready.”

“It’s okay.” My heart was pounding; I’m surprised it wasn’t pounding through my chest and into her face. I tilted her up by the chin and kissed her softly.

“You… you don’t mind the taste?”

“I don’t know,” I said, and kissed her again. My tongue tasted what must have been traces of my own come in her mouth, but then, she’d kissed me while hers was on mine. It was only fair.

She smiled at me. “You’re sure you’re okay with the no-sex?”

I started rubbing her back with my free hand; she relaxed into me. “Trust me.”

Her breathing grew more rhythmic; I grabbed the blanket from where I’d pushed it to the side and draped it over us. I fell asleep shortly after she did.

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A/N: The America arc ends with the next chapter.