Young Girl - COMPLETE

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Updated 7-27-08


I was riding in a car, away from the internet and traveling all day when I wrote this (and my other story, "Strict Machine"), so I didn't see until too late that Snapes_Goddess had a limit of songs from the 1980s or 1990s for her challenge. This didn't qualify, so I'm adding it here.

Title:Young Girl
By: LaBibliographe
Warnings: SoloM


Song: Young Girl
By: Gary Puckett and the Union Gap
Year: 1968


Hear the song at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8e2pCpVPc0I&feature=related


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Lyrics - Young Girl

Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run, girl
You're much too young, girl

With all the charms of a woman
You've kept the secret of your youth
You led me to believe
You're old enough
To give me Love
And now it hurts to know the truth

Whaoo-oh-oh
Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run, girl
You're much too young, girl

Beneath your perfume and make-up
You're just a baby in disguise
And though you know
That it's wrong to be
Alone with me
That come on look is in your eyes

Whaoo-oh-oh
Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run, girl
You're much too young, girl

So hurry home to your Mama
I'm sure she wonders where you are
Get out of here
Before I have the time
To change my mind
'Cause I'm afraid we'll go too far

Whaoo-oh-oh
Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run, girl
You're much too young, girl

Young girl, get out of my mind
My love for you is way out of line
Better run, girl
You're much too young, girl

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Young Girl

She was staring at him again. That speculative look in her eyes was beginning to unnerve him. What had it been? Three weeks? Four possibly, since she had swept into his office and announced she had the Minister’s backing to serve as his assistant?

Lucius had offered to bring the Ministry’s finances back under control after the war as part of his show of good faith toward the new wizarding government. Then they had assigned her to him. He had enjoyed playing with the massive amounts of income the government had scattered into such disarray while Voldemort was in power. Voldemort had basically ruined their monetary structure.

Lucius looked across at the svelte little witch sitting at the other side of his desk. When had she grown up? The tiny termagant who’d punched Draco, she of the frizzy hair, was no more. In her place was this…this siren. She still had rioting curls, but now they made her look like she’d just arisen from someone’s bed not her own. Her face had profited from the subtle application of cosmetics, something Lucius knew about from Narcissa’s beauty routines.

And the schoolgirl outfit had disappeared. In its place was a succession of work blouses and skirts, but the similarity to office attire ended there. The blouses were sometimes shocking in the amount of cleavage she showed. Lucius had needed to look often to be sure he was seeing the scandalous amount of skin she displayed. And her skirts…he was lucky she sat behind his desk for much of the day. Short and tight summed up that garment. She was petite, but those legs! Lucius began to sweat under his proper necktie – again. He couldn’t keep from envisioning those beautiful, slim legs wrapped where they shouldn’t be.

Sweet Hecate, she was Draco’s age. He shouldn’t be thinking about her at all. No, she was a year older. Lucius groaned. As though that made it proper to be thinking what he was thinking.

Damn the Ministry for foisting her on him. They said her excellent skills in Arithmancy would help with his gargantuan task, untangling their horridly twisted financial structure. And it was true, she had an almost uncanny ability to spot anomalies in the accounting ledgers. Unfortunately, that only made her more attractive to him. He lived to juggle money and make it multiply and her natural ability with money made him almost hard sometimes when she found a particularly subtle error in the books.

He had toyed with the idle fantasy on occasion of finding a new use for the large desk separating them, but he ascribed that to not having indulged in any boudoir activity for several months. Her fresh complexion, bright eyes and fierce intelligence were tugging more and more at his libido.

With a stifled sigh, Lucius bent again to organizing debits and credits.

Hermione peeped up through her lashes at the handsome wizard studiously bent over his accounts and she wondered. The man was older, but he was so incredibly attractive. She’d engineered her entrance into his office after seeing him in the Ministry hallway one afternoon. She had sat across from him for nearly four weeks now. Four weeks of dressing so she was advertising her feminine assets in a way no one could miss. Did he notice? It didn’t seem so, except for the occasional male glances at her chest. He was beginning to obsess her with his long platinum hair so carelessly draping his shoulders, his prim, but beautifully tailored business robes, and those light gray eyes that speared her nether parts whenever he looked up at her.

She’d heard the handsome, aristocratic wizard could be had. He’s been separated from his wife for over a year and word was he wouldn’t accept a reconciliation. Hermione had listened to the gossip and had made her plans.

Lucius was no one’s beau ideal either politically or in his behavior, but she thought that was an advantage for her purposes. The war was over, their differences in abeyance and she could see he truly was helping the Ministry rise from their fiscal ashes.

She was free, he was legally separated – so the possibilities were there. With the Purebloods out of power, the older traditions were falling by the wayside. Divorce was becoming the norm as mismatched couples by the score were setting their lives in order and splitting.

Hermione wasn’t sure she particularly cared in Lucius’ case – that remained to be seen – but she had waited long enough to be noticed.


Finally, her focused stare got to Lucius and he threw down his quill. “What do you want, Miss Granger?” he barked at her, irritated and shifting on his chair from a semi-arousal.

“You, Mr. Malfoy,” she smiled, her brown eyes perusing his face and chest.

Lucius frowned, confused, “For what, Miss Granger?” She couldn’t mean –

“For sex, Mr. Malfoy. Down and dirty, sweaty, heart-pumping sex. For however long it pleases both of us. I’m not looking for eternity. Maybe not even past one night. It depends.” Hermione cocked her head and a speculative element entered her face.

Lucius was dumbfounded. His mind derailed into scenes of pornographic pleasure for a moment as he came to understand she was quite serious. He straightened the parchment in front of him, then folded his hands on it and stared back at the sexy little female. His heartbeat sped up even as he tried to retain an air of nonchalance.

“It depends on what, if I may ask?” He looked like he was only politely interested in her answer, but his palms were sweating.

“On how good you are in bed,” was the bald reply.

“Well!” Lucius was taken aback at the forthright attitude of his officemate. “That’s plain enough. I’m to be taken on a trial basis, am I? How does that work? Do I take a number and wait for my turn?” His chin went in the air. He was miffed that she should question his prowess as a lover even as he knew there was no way for her to know differently.

“Are you concerned your performance will be assessed against others?” Her smile widened, “I’ve heard you don’t have anything to worry about. Your praises are widely sung.”

Ouch! Lucius' face went grim and his eyes flashed pure silver. He hadn’t been an angel since his separation, but this young woman was painting him as an immoral piece of beefcake available for the asking. Who the hell had been talking about his private concerns? A devilish internal voice whispered, Who cares? It’s now been months. You know you ARE available and she’s extraordinarily sexy. His libido began a tug-o-war with his three withered scruples and he tried desperately to resist the impulse to bury his nose in that scented cleavage she was flaunting.

“How old are you? Seventeen? You’re Draco’s age. Just a baby.” Lucius scoffed while scrambling to keep his lascivious thoughts off his face. Gods, she was tempting.

“I’m eighteen tomorrow,” Hermione said, amused at the older wizard’s assertion that she was just a baby. He didn’t think of her as a baby. She’d caught his eyes drifting over her breasts often enough.

“Hmmm,” he murmured noncommittally. “Well happy birthday, but you’re still too young for me. I’m well over forty.” At that Lucius cringed internally. Gods, he hated that idea. Where had the years gone? One of his decrepit scruples slithered away and he knew he was on the verge of giving this wicked little witch what she wanted – and probably more than she’d ever dreamed of. Was he depraved to let himself be seduced by this determined female? Gamely attempting to hold on to his remaining two scruples, he said adamantly, “I’m too old for you. Find a boy your own age.”

Hermione leaned forward, offering an even better view of her mammary crevice, “I never thought you would hide behind your age, Lucius.”

He sucked in a breath at hearing his first name from her. It brought him to full arousal and he started to ache.

She kicked another scruple out from under him as she ran her finger down that enticing split in her blouse, “A handsome man like you was made to please and be pleased by women. “

“Women, perhaps. Not little girls. What would your mother say?” Gods, she was shameless. “Why are you behaving like this?” he scowled in a last ditch attempt to rebuff her before his last scruple deserted him.

“I lived through hell, Lucius. So many friends dead. My parents gone with no recollection of me.” She saw him recoil, “I’m not casting blame, Lucius. I wouldn’t be here if I hated you. But I’ve already learned that life can be short. Like I said, I want you for sex. Hot, nasty, anything goes sex.” She contemplated his sudden flaring pupils and gave him the coup de grâce, “Do you like to be sucked, Lucius?”

Shite! Now he had a trouser tent the Girl Guides could camp in. “Excuse me,” he said remotely, his good manners making Hermione’s lips quirk in enjoyment. Lucius rose and strode out the office door leaving Hermione alone at their desk.

So proper, she smiled. But it wasn’t what he was known for after hours. The little witch sighed in pleasure. It was going better than she had hoped. First sex. Then - who could tell? His amazing mind took second place only to his looks and she was enthralled with both.

Lucius locked himself in a stall in the men’s and opened his trousers, gazing down at his engorged member in despair. That crimson monster wasn’t going to go away any time soon. He sat gingerly on the toilet seat, his slacks at half-mast and tried to juggle accounting figures in his head. It was no use. The figures faded into a vision of a curly-haired head bent over his cock. Lucius groaned at the salacious thought and took himself in hand, standing and turning to face the rear of the stall.

He began stroking the turgid length and squeezing his sac with shaking fingers as he gave himself over to the forbidden fantasy of thrusting all he owned into that torrid little madam’s honey-pot, stabbing her core over and over until she screamed his name and writhed in her release. Faster and faster he stroked, building his own release to its inevitable end and he came in a shuddering rush all over the back of the stall. The relief was temporary, but enough for him to regain a shred of his sanity. After a quick Scourgify of the stall he returned to his office.

He walked in and saw she’d left for the day. It was after six and he breathed a sigh of deliverance from her skillful torment. He was congratulating himself when he saw the note propped up on his desk. All it said was, “Floo me tonight!!” and the bold command made Lucius begin to sweat again. She was a young girl. She was young, so young…and absolutely legal.

She was on the prowl, so why not him? His remaining scruple was stronger than the rest and made a gallant stand against his raging libido, wrestling him back to some momentary sense. He drew a steadying breath, grabbed his cane and flooed home.


~~~


Lucius stood in front of his black marble fireplace, the note propped up on his mantel as he fretfully rocked back and forth sifting floo powder through his fingers from hand to hand.

It was such a bad idea. They had months of work left ahead of them, working together in that private office in the bowels of the Ministry. Lucius squeezed his eyes shut against the erotic picture of her body draped on the surface of his desk totally nude, with her legs, those lovely, lithe legs, spread wide, waiting for him. He would make her wait, holding that position, so she understood who was master.

Lucius shook his head to dislodge that licentious scene and his eyes traveled from his porcelain floo powder bowl to the fireplace and back. Put the floo powder back or cast it into the fire. Which? She was too young. He was too old. Young, old.

With a regretful sigh, Lucius gently slid the floo powder back into the porcelain bowl and turned away from the temptation of the fireplace.

He took two steps and suddenly her words came back to him – ‘For however long it pleases both of us’.

“Oh, hell,” he said as his last scruple shattered and he pivoted on his heel and strode back, grabbed the floo powder and cast it into the fire.

“Granger!” Lucius stepped into the green fire.

The End

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