O Father Where Art Thou? Shagging My Best Friend?!

O, Father, Where Art Thou? Shagging My Best Friend?!

A piece by Lucretia


It weren’t for the hair; she could have been Lily Evans. If it weren’t for that mane of honey brown curls that fanned across the pillow as she arched her int into his touch, she could have been that woman of the past. It wasn’t that they looked alike, not at all, Hermione’s eyes were that bottomless brown, where Lily’s had been a vibrant green, but they shared the same passion, the same fierce intellect and indomitable Gryffindor will. The same questioning glance an unrelenting questions, the same blend of lust and whe when his name came, whispered gutturally, on their lips.

His fingers made trails of fire over Hermione’s skin as they traced the contours of her form, t pal pale breasts with their dark nipples, hardening beneath his rough fingers as he twisted and pinched, as his mouth latched onto one and sucked it into his hot mouth. His tongue, it seemed, set her alight completely, as he allowed it to tickle her abdomen, gyrate with teasing fierceness into her bellybutton, then continue its light trail down onto the pale flesh of her thighs.

He felt her fingers twine into his hair, trying to pull his mouth to where she most wished to feel it, but he resisted, lapping at that soft flesh to either side, nibbling it, listing to her moans and taking sadistic pleasure from the wanton he managed to create in her, from the scent that was coming from her. Allowing a light chuckle to pass his lips as he glanced up at her, and at once caught her gaze, those brown orbs swimming with a liquid fire of lust.

The words were on her lips, but they made no sound. Merely left him to wonder if she had really said it, or if it had been a fanciful imagining.

“Lick me, Severus.”

Whatever the case, he could resist the smell of her musk no longer. His lips traced her folds, and he sucked her clitoris lightly. Moving his hands to touch her, to part those hot lips and allow access for his tongue, sliding inside to taste her essence. Her thighs clamped against his face and her fingers massaged the back of his head, and his name was on her lips, guttural whispers.

Merlin, she even tasted like Lily Evans. It has been a long time since he had had that body writhing beneath him, of course, along time since those green eyes had penetrated his very soul, along time since he had heard that voice. Indeed, the last time he had heard her voice she had been screaming, falling before their childprotprotect him from the Avada Kedavra curse.

A curse that had not even killed him, anyway. A curse that had only destroyed the seeming Lily had placed upon the boy to make him look like his supposed father, draining the Dark Lord of his magic as it dissolved, and harming the boy only with a scar the shape of a lightening bolt that Severus could not disguise even as he replaced the seeming so that the boy’s identity would never be truly known. Given, Lily had been much better at creating such spells in the first place.

And she had died to save that boy. The impertinent brat who had no respect for anything or anyone, no appreciation for the sacrifice his mother had made. No respect for the man who was his unknown father.

Still, he would not think on that now. Now, as he lapped at the juices of one of his son’s best friends; now, as she cried out his name in wild abandon and dissolved around him. Now, as he lifted his head to kiss her passionately, and she could taste herself in his mouth, and it wasn’t just the thrill of her, but of everything she stood for, that turned him on.

Indeed, all thought left him completely as his eyes locked with hers again, as her soft hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, and she stroked it with that unique blend of innocent and skill that only young ones possess… what thrilled him more was that he had taught her all she knew in those short months since the beginning of her seventh year.

Her fingers worked against him, tracing up his shaft and running a finger around the swollen head of his cock, eyes never leaving his, negating by feel. Her face was uncertain, but there was a delicious wicked glint in her eye as his breath became more ragged and shallow.

He could resist her no longer. Clenching the formidable muscles in his thighs, he lunged at her and pinned her beneath him, rewarded by a small giggle from her, that he, for once, found more endearing than irritating. He covered her mouth with his in a bruising kiss, and her legs went about him, spreading wide and allowing him access to her.

He smiled wickedly, tracing himself along her folds, allowing the head of his cock to push inside her, watching her hips writhe, trying to sheath him. One of his hands teased at her nipples once again, the other holding himself poised above her, and then without warning he plunged inside her completely. She cried out with the force of his entry, but it was not a cry of pain.

Oh, Gods, she was so tight! So unbelievable tight! Months of voracious copulating had done nothing to diminish it, and the way she rippled around him, the way her muscles pulled him back in even as he withdrew, the way her back arched into him, it was so incredibly hot.

And then it all faded into a blur, it all became one memory of heat and skin and ripples of pleasure, punctuated by the cries upon her lips, by the sharp pain of her fingernails raking up his back, of the smell of her hair as he buried his face in her neck, like citrus fruits and flowers, of his teeth upon her throat and his hands ravaging the soft curves of her body.

But then her hand slid down between them, and her fingers found that place, that tiny spot of skin between his balls and his cock, pressed against it. His eyes flew wide as she touched him there, as it sent his body into uncontrollable spasms and he shot deep within her. His eyes rolled back into his head and his teeth bit right through his bottom lip. His moan filled the room as he emptied himself within her.

Her lips were on his as he collapsed again her, spent, tasting the blood upon him and chuckling at the sight. His black eyes bored into hers, still smouldering from the fire.

“Gods, Hermione, where did you learn to do that?”

She smiled coyly. “Well, they don’t teach you things like that in ‘Hogwarts: A History’, but that is not the only book I’ve read.”

He smirked at her and his hand travelled over her soft flesh again, tracing the lines of sweat that had begun to condense from their heated bodies. “Well, I shall have to set you homework, then, Miss Granger.”

She pushed him off her, lightly, onto his back, and swung a leg over him, leaning down to plant a kiss upon his nose, those thick brown curls creating a curtain that shrouded their faces.

“And what if I forget to do it, Professor Snape? Will you punish me?” Her breasts swayed deliciously before his eyes, and she let kisses fall down his throat, over his collar bone and onto his chest, those eyes still locked with his.

His voice was silky. “Yessss, Hermione, I will have to punish you if you are bad…”

Her smile was cheeky. “And what if you are bad, Severus? Do I get to punish you?”

She had moved now all the way down his body, and he could feel her hot breath upon his cock, which was beginning to grow again with the thoughts that were playing through his mind. His eyes simply bored into hers. He did not reply.

Her hot mouth opened, and she began to lower it over his prick. Severus moaned, urging her on, feeling the breath encase him, lower and lower…

And then a crash at the doorway of the Head Girl’s room, and both started up, and the looks upon their faces froze to horror at the sight of Harry Potter standing in the doorway. He managed to get out the words already on his tongue before the sight before him paralysed him.

“Hermione, Dumbledore just told me that Snape is my father.”