A Delicate Obsession

Chapter Eight – You can skip this chapter, as the writer went off on a frolic of her own and the plot is not advanced in any way!

It all belongs to Rowling – except for the parts you don’t recognize.


Snape was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming. And the reason he knew he was dreaming was because he was taking a shower. And he’d never taken a shower in his entire life! His bathroom didn’t even have a shower.

He was standing there, enjoying the novel sensation of standing in a hot cascade of liquid, when he noted something else unusual in his dream. Sandalwood soap! Not his very special, very healthy, homemade pine tar soap, but something delicate, exotic and sensual.

Therefore, he should not have beurprurprised when the third very unusual element of his dream joined him in the form of Laura. She stepped into the shower, her beautiful grey-green eyes sparkling with mischief. She reached over to him and took the bar of soap. Snape found it rather difficult to breath as she began to lather him. She started at his neck and moved down to his shoulders making neat, tiny circles with her fingertips. Right about then his prick got the message and jumped to attention. Snape nervously looked for a place to put his hands. Laura smiled and he chose her shoulders. Her lovely light brown hair was wet and lay flat, clinging to her back and front and teasing her pink nipples. She continued to soap him, lifting his arms to cleanse his pits and then stroking his chest with the suds. He was scared that she’d be disappointed by the boniness of his physique or maybe the lack of hair on his chest, with its few lonely strands centering about his nipples. But he had nothing to fear. She again gave him a smile, more a leer really, and leaned forward to nip one of his tits with her teeth.

His whole body contracted in a shiver of delight with the painful yet enjoyable contact. She lifted an eyebrow. She seemed quite pleased with his reflexes. She soaped his belly, here was at least a bit more hair, growing in a straight line down, which hopefully would encourage her to-- go further, go further down, oh please… he silently pleaded.

But no, instead her hands stroked around his torso to his butt. She brought the soap round his back and slid her slippery fingers down his cheek crack. She thoroughly cleaned his rosette, before continuing to that very sensitive spot he had halfway between his testicles and anus. She got to her knees and pressed on ‘the spot’. He grabbed the sides of the shower to keep himself from melting down into a puddle of pleasure. His eyes crossed for a sheer second and he groaned out her name, “Laura.”

She lifted his sac gently with both hands, soaping and massaging, squeezing and teasing. And then proceeded to his legs: his skinny, pale, hairy, undesirable legs. He went into shock when she licked them. Never try to understand a woman. She kissed his knobby kneecaps. She sucked on a toe. He felt tears of frustration coming to his eyes. He wanted to grab her, but, and here’s the nasty part of dreams, he was frozen to the spot.

She looked up at him and licked her lips. She finally, at long last, soaped his cock. She did it lovingly and languorously. He feared that he’d spurt into her face any second. She pumped him as she soaped him. She rinsed him off. And then, finally, opened her mouth to take him in. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be floated aloft on a cloud of ecstasy.

“I have a question, Professor.” Snape opened his eyes and looked into the face of Know-it-all Granger. For split second the two images of his dream lover and his student superimposed and were one. Snape shrieked in horror and nearly fell off of his stool.

“Professor, are you all right? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Snape realized that he’d dozed off during Granger’s detention. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, consumed as he was with anxiety over the pensieve. Unfortunately, the chit had recently gone back to sitting next to Longbottom in class again, and was supplying him with answers. When would she ever get it straight that such behavior would not be tolerated during the N.E.W.T.s and the chap would fail if she continued to be his crutch?

“Ask me tomorrow. You are dismissed.”

“But—“

“Go now, or it’s points deducted.” He said smoothly.

Hermione fumed but grabbed her books and left. Snape warded the door, Accio’d some oil and proceeded to take care of matters. Mistaking Granger for Laura, how absurd, he sneered to himself as he tore open his fly.

A few strokes, and he was done.

&&&

Hermione missed Snape horribly. Quite deliberately, she had made peace with Neville (honestly his having Ginny as his new lover had really done much to sooth his pain) and chosen to get herself sent to detention. Snape didn’t have much for her to do. She had scrubbed a couple of encrusted cauldrons and chopped some herbs for his first years, and she was done.

That’s when she discovered that he’d nodded off. She walked up quietly to his desk and critically observed him. In sleep, his face had softened. She had to restrain herself from touching his cheek, now marked by an evening’s worth of stubble. She could only imagine how rough it would feel against her skin. She wondered if it would feel like sandpaper, or would it be softer.

His skin had an unhealthy pallor to it. She assumed that perhaps it was something that happened from working with potions or perhaps, spending all his time in the dungeons. Still, he did have lovely clear skin, without a blemish to mar it. She enjoyed being free to examine him at her leisure. But oh, how she wanted to touch that face and stroke his head of long, glistening hair.


She walked around his desk. He was wearing his robes and they were slightly hitched up, showing a pale, muscular leg. She tried to imagine how the rest of him would look naked. What would happen, right now, if she were to become Laura? Would she dare to lift up that robe to peer underneath? If he were to awaken from such an intrusion, would his face light up to see her? Would he take her right there on the cold, stone floor? Hermione’s breath caught at the daring of her thoughts. Staring at him, she felt aroused. She didn’t dare transform to Laura because she wouldn’t be able to explain how she got here, through Hogwarts’ wards and the twisting and turnings of the dungeons. However, while Snape slept she could watch him.

She dropped her knickers and hid them in her pocket. Then she sat behind one of the student’s desks. Even if he did awake, he would not see a thing. Then she hiked up her robes and tentatively touched herself. She listened to his even breathing and watched him. She quietly rubbed her fingers up and down the insides of her upper thighs. She imagined that they were his hands on her. She put two fingertips in her mouth, moistened them and brought them down to her center. She need not have bothered, though, as she was already wet. She spread her labia and worked the wetness to her clit, stroking in tight circles. She took her other hand and snaked it between the upper openings of her robes and shirt. She found her nipple and gently pinched it. Her breath started to become irregular. She stared at his lips and remembered how they had felt on her last Saturday, how it had sparked a reaction which went directly to her innermost being.

She flexed her buttocks and then flexed her inner muscles in synch. She brought her fingers from her nub to inside of her, enjoying the sensation of her inner muscles pulling at her fingers. Her breath hitched and she watched Snape even more intently. She felt aflame. She pressed her hand hard against her pubic mound, thrusting wildly against it. An orgasm was slowing building inside of her. She held her breath, forcing the climax to come to the forefront. She pinched her breast, thinking of what it would be like for him to suckle her.

With a barely audible gasp, she came. She felt her cum flowing around her hand as she spent herself. Just at that moment, Snape whispered “Laura” and Hermione quietly replied, “I’m here my love.”

Still flushed with her climax, Hermione approached the desk. She brushed her lips against his cheek, feeling the coarse hair starting to grow in. She was rewarded by his smile.

“I have a question, Professor.”

She watched him start awake, and then for a second it seemed he had recognized her. She didn’t know how, but something in his eyes told her that he’d come very close to discovering her secret. Fortunately, the moment passed quickly. He dismissed her and she played her role of the disgruntled Miss Know-it-all.

Hermione left the dungeons quickly. The liquid warmth between her legs and the memory of how his cheek felt beneath her lips made her smile. Not like sandpaper at all, but rough like raw silk, she thought. Oh she could barely wait for Saturday to some.


A/N: So sorry but I had this in my mind and I just had to share it.