Faster The Hurt
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,653
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,653
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Faster The Hurt
Disclaimer:This story contains characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. and AOL/Time Warner, Inc. No profit is being made and no infringement is intended.
Faster the Hurt
- - - -
“Fancy going outside when you've finished your drinks?”
“What, you mean when I'm too drunk to care?” she smiles and pauses before answering. “Sure, why not?” she asks rhetorically.
She downs the two vodka and cokes left to drink that various guys have bought her and stands up, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.
Once there, he touches her face and gently places his lips on hers. Within seconds the romance is gone and the lust eats them up.
The effects of the alcohol set in and they stumble sideways, before walking back against the wall for some support.
She tilts her head back as he plants kisses down her neck, sucking and nibbling his way down to her heaving breasts.
A moan escapes her lips as his hands run down her body, caressing her heated centre through her knickers.
She knows this is what she needs. Yet she knows this is not the man she has pained for. But he will do. They will always do.
She's drunk, and lonely. She's gagging for a bit of anything just to make the pain go away and focus on something real.
Not that this is real. This is wrong, and tomorrow, in the cold harsh light of day she will be filled with regret and self-loathing.
But for now, she's getting some and she's not going to stop. She never has before.
“May I?” The whispered question escapes his lips as his hand hovers at the top of her knickers.
A careless “Yeah,” answers.
He shoves two fingers into her wet pussy, and she gasps at the contact.
He lifts her up so that her legs wrap around his waist, and she's grinding into his hand, his fingers.
Faster, faster.
“Is this good?” he mumbles.
“Mhmmm” is all that she can reply as another moan escapes her lips.
He's rough, and she knows she will have bruises tomorrow to remind her of this mistake.
She won't be able to just forget about it. She never can.
She loses count of the amount of guys she's been in this situation with, but she can remember, not their face or name, but the way she felt afterwards.
She's a rough fuck. She likes it that way.
The pain of trying to sit pretty the next day, or walking to work, allows for the pain inside to dissipate for while.
The bruises are never truly gone before she's replacing them with new ones.
But it's just as well. It means she never has time to feel too much; to let the sinking feeling her life fill her and truly take over.
She needs this. She needs to feel any part of him slamming into her.
The combination of pleasure and pain makes her senses swim. His fingers pound into her and she moans louder.
She yearns for more as he slows and pulls his fingers from her.
Her feet back on the ground, she turns the tables so that he is now against the wall.
He places her hand on his prominent erection to let her know just what an effect she has on him.
She's taking it as a hint, and she reaches for his belt and starts to unbuckle.
Slipping her delicate hands into his boxers, she grasps his cock and slowly starts up and down.
“Oh, that's good,” he manages to whisper.
Faster, faster.
She feels dirty; outside her best friend's birthday celebration on a cold, dark November night.
It shouldn't be like this. She should be in there. Celebrating.
Instead, she's here. Tossing off some guy that rejected her a year ago for one of her mates.
Because the guy she's wanted for years now is in there, laughing and kissing and making plans with the love of his fucking life.
His fingers delve once more into her wet knickers where they move in the same rhythm with which she wanks him.
Minutes pass and the only sounds are their ragged breaths and the slamming against each other's bodies.
They're jerked back to reality as people pass the entrance to the alleyway.
They try to contain their giggles at the thrill of almost being caught, and the difficulty of having to stay still.
This is illicit, wrong. But they stealthily continue silently in the shadows until the voices are faded from the background.
A hand on hers slows her movements, and he comes with heavy breathing and a moan.
He kisses her, and she just wishes it is somebody else. It's some other girl he's getting this from. That it's another guy she's with.
Not just any guy though. She pictures the same one every time.
[[His blonde hair, his grey eyes, his crude tongue.
As much as she might try, there's just no replacement for Draco Malfoy. ]]
Back against the wall again, she's getting all the attention once more and she's closing her eyes to picture his face as she comes.
- - - - -
Finish. Review?
Faster the Hurt
- - - -
“Fancy going outside when you've finished your drinks?”
“What, you mean when I'm too drunk to care?” she smiles and pauses before answering. “Sure, why not?” she asks rhetorically.
She downs the two vodka and cokes left to drink that various guys have bought her and stands up, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.
Once there, he touches her face and gently places his lips on hers. Within seconds the romance is gone and the lust eats them up.
The effects of the alcohol set in and they stumble sideways, before walking back against the wall for some support.
She tilts her head back as he plants kisses down her neck, sucking and nibbling his way down to her heaving breasts.
A moan escapes her lips as his hands run down her body, caressing her heated centre through her knickers.
She knows this is what she needs. Yet she knows this is not the man she has pained for. But he will do. They will always do.
She's drunk, and lonely. She's gagging for a bit of anything just to make the pain go away and focus on something real.
Not that this is real. This is wrong, and tomorrow, in the cold harsh light of day she will be filled with regret and self-loathing.
But for now, she's getting some and she's not going to stop. She never has before.
“May I?” The whispered question escapes his lips as his hand hovers at the top of her knickers.
A careless “Yeah,” answers.
He shoves two fingers into her wet pussy, and she gasps at the contact.
He lifts her up so that her legs wrap around his waist, and she's grinding into his hand, his fingers.
Faster, faster.
“Is this good?” he mumbles.
“Mhmmm” is all that she can reply as another moan escapes her lips.
He's rough, and she knows she will have bruises tomorrow to remind her of this mistake.
She won't be able to just forget about it. She never can.
She loses count of the amount of guys she's been in this situation with, but she can remember, not their face or name, but the way she felt afterwards.
She's a rough fuck. She likes it that way.
The pain of trying to sit pretty the next day, or walking to work, allows for the pain inside to dissipate for while.
The bruises are never truly gone before she's replacing them with new ones.
But it's just as well. It means she never has time to feel too much; to let the sinking feeling her life fill her and truly take over.
She needs this. She needs to feel any part of him slamming into her.
The combination of pleasure and pain makes her senses swim. His fingers pound into her and she moans louder.
She yearns for more as he slows and pulls his fingers from her.
Her feet back on the ground, she turns the tables so that he is now against the wall.
He places her hand on his prominent erection to let her know just what an effect she has on him.
She's taking it as a hint, and she reaches for his belt and starts to unbuckle.
Slipping her delicate hands into his boxers, she grasps his cock and slowly starts up and down.
“Oh, that's good,” he manages to whisper.
Faster, faster.
She feels dirty; outside her best friend's birthday celebration on a cold, dark November night.
It shouldn't be like this. She should be in there. Celebrating.
Instead, she's here. Tossing off some guy that rejected her a year ago for one of her mates.
Because the guy she's wanted for years now is in there, laughing and kissing and making plans with the love of his fucking life.
His fingers delve once more into her wet knickers where they move in the same rhythm with which she wanks him.
Minutes pass and the only sounds are their ragged breaths and the slamming against each other's bodies.
They're jerked back to reality as people pass the entrance to the alleyway.
They try to contain their giggles at the thrill of almost being caught, and the difficulty of having to stay still.
This is illicit, wrong. But they stealthily continue silently in the shadows until the voices are faded from the background.
A hand on hers slows her movements, and he comes with heavy breathing and a moan.
He kisses her, and she just wishes it is somebody else. It's some other girl he's getting this from. That it's another guy she's with.
Not just any guy though. She pictures the same one every time.
[[His blonde hair, his grey eyes, his crude tongue.
As much as she might try, there's just no replacement for Draco Malfoy. ]]
Back against the wall again, she's getting all the attention once more and she's closing her eyes to picture his face as she comes.
- - - - -
Finish. Review?