Dangerous Escapism

Chapter 9

Fleur had been working on him steadily, slowly increasing the pressure her lips exerted on his prick. She ensured that he was dripping wet, the slick moisture from her mouth softening the friction on his sensitive tip. Suddenly, she let her lips go almost slack, without letting up her pace, and slid herself up and down on his rock-hard length with the softest, teasingest pressure imaginable. "Oh, you are a bad girl, Miss Delacour." He rumbled. "You know just what to do to me, don't you?" Her answer was a brief but intense caress of her tongue, stimulating his head and drawing from him a pearl of come.

Like Granger, she moaned in pleasure as she sucked him, and wishing to feel more of her, Snape disrobed himself completely with a muttered spell. The feeling of her skin and hair against his bare legs elicited a groan, and he briefly forgot himself and thrust into her mouth. Instead of drawing back, she leaned into his movements and took him deep. When she did draw back, it was to wrap her left index finger and thumb loosely around him to stroke him even as she continued her oral ministrations.

Snape's reaction to this new development was to bite Granger's lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Fleur's touch was feather-light, but the sensation of firmness in contrast to her soft tongue and lips was arousing to the extreme. Sensing that the end was near, Snape softly murmured an end to the Herculio charm so that he could allow his body to respond naturally to the mind-blowing stimulation it was receiving.

His mounting orgasm tugged at his core like portkey travel, and his field of awareness narrowed to encompass only his mouth, hands and cock. As Snape felt his balls tighten in advance of his climax, he drew his lips away from Hermione's long enough to command "Fleur. Swallow. Not all of it." His orgasm came in tight, sharp waves that shook his body mightily and went on an impossibly long time. He thrust deep into Fleur's throat, mumbling "Don't gag" half into Hermione's mouth which was still clamped over his with insistent softness. He groaned and gasped, licking Hermione's lips and gripping the girls' hair tightly in his fists. Oh, the feeling of those two mouths on him...surrounded by sweet-smelling skin and soft hair - eager lips drawing from him every ounce of air and drop of semen in his body.

He only wished that he could come into both of them. He felt his spunk hit the back of Fleur's throat, and withdrew just enough to ensure that some of it ended up in her mouth. She continued to stroke him with her soft but firm fingers, and that stimulation, as well as the vibrations of her groans on his jerking prick, heightening his pleasure even as he climaxed. Hermione inexplicably chose this moment to latch onto his mouth with alacrity, thrusting her tongue into him with eagerness and skill that he didn't imagine she possessed, and her long hair tickled him as he writhed under her.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, his spasms eased. The trickles of salty fluid finally subsided, and Snape relaxed back into his chair, glistening with sweat and weak as a kitten. He felt the two girls withdraw from him, and when after a few blissful seconds he cracked his eyes open, he noticed Fleur still kneeling before him, looking strangely owlish. Realisation dawned when he remembered his command, and the reason for it... and an evil, boyish smile dawned on his face.

"Miss Delacour," he drawled in a voice so deep and wickedly contented that he almost didn't recognize it, "kindly rise and kiss Miss Granger. Ensure that she receives some of what you so skilfully coaxed from me." Hermione, who for the last few seconds had been sitting on the armrest, staring catatonically into space, sprang to life and almost tripped over Snape's legs in her haste to get to Fleur. Grabbing the French girl roughly by the shoulders, she clamped her open mouth over Fleur's and thrust her tongue deep inside. From all appearances, she seemed to be Hoovering the interior of Fleur's mouth, and when she finally pushed the blonde away, Fleur's pink lips and the surrounding skin were dotted with tiny red marks that bespoke of capillaries damaged by pressure.

Snape watched with detached fascination the two girls sharing his seed. Delightful, he thought. They will depart from here with no memory of what has transpired, never realising that they left with each other's juices on their faces and my come in their mouths. He would have laughed out loud, if he could have mustered the energy to do so.

The Potions master felt too knackered to do anything but sit, eyes closed, and enjoy the blissful after-effects of his earth-shattering orgasm. Resting his hands on his chest, he sighed contentedly and stretched and rubbed his head, cat-like, into the back of the chair. After an indeterminate length of time, he finally returned to the outside world and noticed his two guests (although perhaps concubines would be a more fitting word) standing quietly, puppet-like, in between him and the fire.

"Well, what are you still doing here? Ah yes, there is still the matter of your clothes," he sneered in his familiar, distant teacher voice. "And by the way, what brought you two unlucky, interfering numbskulls here in the first place? Miss Granger?"

Still suffering from the effects of her unsatisfied arousal, Hermione stared at Snape, or rather through him, blinking, seeming to have difficulty focusing her eyes. "We needed the key," she managed to blurt out, "you told us...to lock up, but you...didn't...leave us...the key." She swayed with the effort of speaking, heaved a huge sigh and gripped Fleur's arm for balance.

"Ah yes. Well, no need. I'll follow you out and lock the door." And change the password, he thought with more than a little irony. On second thoughts, perhaps not... With a wave of his wand the girls were clad in the clothes they had arrived in, and he repaired their ruined hairdos with a Disintrico spell. They were both still shaky on their feet, but, well, that couldn't be helped really, could it?

Snape rose, none too steady himself (although he would never show it), and hastily dressed. Reassuringly clad in his usual teaching attire, he felt a return of discipline and normalcy, and approached his next task with detached energy.

*

A/N: The Disintrico spell is courtesy of pigwidgeon37, the talented author of "The Sybil's Oracle".