Dangerous Escapism

Chapter 4

With a wave of his wand, Snape clad his two guests in the clothes he had imagined them in. They stood seductively in front of him, Fleur to his left, Hermione to his right. Fleur's clothing was more well-defined than it had been in his fantasy - he allowed himself an inner word of self-congratulation on his creativity - and Hermione looked exactly as she had in his dream. For a few moments he just allowed himself to regard them. He could almost smell their sex; the spicy, milky perfume of their skin and hair; the heady odours that were bottled under the names of Desire to Please and Can't Say No. Like miracles of creation, their beautiful faces displayed the unmistakable signs of desire: dark, half-closed eyes focused only on him...moist, parted lips...the softest of pinks suffusing their cheeks and foreheads...tendrils of hair clinging humidly to their necks. Unconsciously he rubbed his fingers together, imagining their skin under his hands.

Patience, my friend, he said to himself. Soon, very soon...

-*~~*~~*-

"Fleur, step out and do a little turn for me. Slowly, that's a girl. Hermione, you do the same." Eye candy. That was the muggle term he had heard, but never before understood. He'd forgotten what fantastic bodies eighteen-year-old girls possessed - no wonder teenage boys were so insatiable.

Gods, they were beautiful. Both wore their hair in piles of messy Grecian whatnots on their heads, and he had definite ideas in mind for that. Fleur never took her eyes off him as she slowly turned around, lifting her arms like a ballerina and pointing her toes. Her breasts were small and high, and strained against the thin material of her silky grey camisole. The material scooped low in the front and back, held up by spaghetti straps, and clung to her taut body in an impossibly sexy display. The hem of her top, which flared just at the waist, was trimmed with soft grey lace, as were her panties. Unlike Granger, who wore a naughty muggle G-string, Fleur's briefs were loose and old-fashioned, but cut perfectly so as to display the curvy bottoms of her smooth, tight cheeks as she turned around.

The older generation knew what they were doing, Snape thought, panties like that were made for shagging. He imagined himself kneeling in front of her, slowly, slowly sliding his hands up her thighs and under the loose garment. Feeling the coarse lace under his fingers, pressing his face against her and smelling her sex through the thin material. He imagined reaching the thatch of soft hair, caressing it with his fingertips, feeling her swollen and ready, his to explore. So convenient, you don't even have to take them off to... Well, maybe next time. These two lovelies would have to earn the rare privilege of seeing him kneeling before them.

-*~~*~~*-

He turned his attention to Hermione Granger. It delighted him impossibly to see that brat, that smug, self-contained know-it-all, cause of seven years of unrest, trussed up like a pretty bird and dripping wet. Oh yes, he could see that the tight thong she was wearing was having the desired effect of stimulating her - she was restlessly shifting her weight around, twitching her thighs to try to relieve the pressure. Good luck, he thought, every movement is just arousing you more. Not just you, either.

The black lace thingie she was wearing was close-fitting but not tight, and more than adequately accentuated her already-generous curves. Snape loved the subtle hints of bondage inherent in the black stockings, the garter, and the tiny triangle of fabric that constrained her sex.

It pleased him to think of upending her...and he knew just how to do it.

II

Aah....let the games begin. "Fleur, Hermione, kiss each other please. Nothing too naughty - you are schoolgirls, after all." For his own benefit, Snape used his most seductive voice, caressingly soft and menacing at the same time. He'd never used Imperio for something like this, and he was gratified to see that they were behaving very naturally. It would have detracted mightily from his experience of this debauchery if he had had to move them around like models at a muggle photo shoot.

The two girls approached each other without awkwardness and sighed as their lips met. The kisses were soft but quite intense - eyes open and gazing closely at each other, and Snape could see their little pink tongues meeting as they tasted and explored. They touched but did not embrace, a fact for which Snape was grateful - with their hands just grazing each other's bodies, he had a much better view. Granger had her right hand on Fleur's waist, her left rested on the opposite shoulder. She seemed to be alternately pulling her closer and pushing her away, and Fleur held onto the bones and stays of Granger's corset for balance.

Fleur slid her hands down, rested one on Hermione's hip, and with the other lightly brushed her knuckles across the taut fabric of her tiny panties. Snape smiled at the similarity to the movement he had imagined Fleur using on him. Hermione moaned and began thrusting her pelvis towards Fleur's hand, which was quickly withdrawn. A natural tease, Snape thought. Good. Granger, meanwhile, had begun exploring Fleur's breasts, first by brushing her palms and fingertips over the grey material that displayed her hard nipples, then by sliding her hands up under her top and stroking and squeezing them. Fleur obviously liked what she felt, she groaned and craned her neck out to kiss Granger more deeply.

"Let me see what you're doing, Granger. Take her top off. Slowly." Snape held his breath in anticipation of his first glimpse of Fleur's breasts, and expelled it in ragged bursts as Hermione slowly slid the hem of the garment up and over the other girl's head, caressing her skin as she went.

With Fleur free of her top, both girls touched each other more ardently than before. Each moved her hands greedily over the other, caressing breasts, buttocks and thighs, while their lips never left each other's mouths. To Snape's delight, after thoroughly attending to Fleur's breasts, Hermione of her own accord knelt and moved her hands up under the blonde girl's little culottes exactly as he had imagined doing. Fleur bent her left leg out slightly to grant her easier access between her legs, and Snape was mesmerized by the sight of Hermione's little hands moving under the fabric...stroking and teasing... and by Fleur's obvious approval of Hermione's actions. Fleur was breathing hard, little cries escaped her lips, and her hands moved restlessly on Hermione's arms.

"Granger, take off her panties." The mammoth arousal of both girls was made apparent by their haste to remove the rest of Fleur's clothing. Hermione practically ripped them off her hips, and Fleur scrambled to help her get rid of them.

Again for his own amusement, Snape was alternating between his strictest teacher voice and the caressing tones of a lover. His next words were carefully modulated to seep, snake-like, into their consciousness and his. "Miss Granger. You are going to use your mouth on Miss Delacour and lick her until she comes. Miss Delacour, as she is working, you will tell her exactly what you like. Please indicate when you are close to your release. Miss Granger, when she is done, you are going to lap up her juices just like a little kitten laps milk. Begin."

*

A/N: I didn't aim for this story to be so slash-y, but it just turned out that way so far. For all the people who expected a three-way, it's coming (pun intended). And to all the people who say that this is just too squicky, well, Boo Hoo. This is Snape's innermost fantasy, and you can't blame me for being the only one selfless enough to commit it to cyberspace.

You definitely won't find any P2Q-or-Popeye-or-Chekhov-esque retribution in this story, if you're reading on hoping for some. There also won't be any romance, although the characters may grow to respect one another's individuality and understand the hidden insecurities and turmoil that keeps them mired in the heartbreak of revolving-door relationships.

Actually, just kidding about the last part. Just PWP, PWP, and more PWP.