A Mistake in Measures
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Harry/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
40,683
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Harry/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
40,683
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters and I do not make any moneys from this story.
A Mistake in Measures
Hi! I was playing around with the idea of writing an erotic scene and this is what I came up with. Let me know if you like it. It sort of came out of the blue who was in the scene, as silly as that may sound. Let me know if it works. Thanks.
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!
***
Patience in everything—from the mild nearly imperceptible flirtation in public to the press of bodies on the dance floor where the hint of what was to come breezed through minds too preoccupied with sex to really concern themselves with just whom they were contemplating who they were doing this with.
Primary needs get in the way to be sure, but the need for patience never leaves the mind, as the hunter doesn’t want their prey to flee. But who pray tell is the hunter or, for that matter, the hunted? Both think they are in charge and both think the other the ripe catch of the day. So where does one distinguish fact from fiction in this case? Or was it a paradox for the ages?
Girl, woman, witch, huntress, siren, innocent, and yet not floods the man’s mind even as blood rushes down to harden. Patience, he reminds himself yet again and still he wants, no, needs to move faster to capture his prey.
Boy, man, wizard, hunter, incubus, far from innocent, and yet not comes to the woman’s mind even as she feels the rushing beat of her heart. Patience, she reminds herself yet again and still…
The war for patience is abandoned somewhere along the line and soon the pair find themselves in a broom closet of all places. Too preoccupied with the taste of the other to be overly concerned that they were seen slipping into the darkness for privacy—for each other.
The capture of lips, tasting the other’s mouths with a hunger neither had ever experienced before. Need, like a starved beast reared its head and had them both tearing the other’s clothing to get closer. Closer still. And yet could they ever get close enough?
Fabrics are ripped, textiles discarded, and panties tucked into a robe pocket to study later were the order of the moment. Coherent thought would have to wait as well, as the last of those fled once they decided in their last separate act in the small broom closet that becoming completely unclothed wasn’t the wisest of ideas.
It was in this dark private place, a cave for the new ages as it were, where the primitive was unlocked in the minds of two thoroughly modern individuals. His need to mark had him nuzzling and tasting her neck even as he was contemplating nipping if not biting that same flesh. Her need to be taken had her stepping on his feet to gain the inches needed to press her core to his. A bite, a gasp of shock, and a leg wrapped around a hip—closer, yet…
The need for more drives them further into the fray. More flesh, more smells, more tastes, more…and more…and…
Pinning her to the stone, he drives into her. Cock into cunt. Like a knife being slid into its sheath. Home. The rhythm begins. An age old tango of flesh and bone that makes all feel immortal while all the time knowing their utter humanity. More, closer, and the steady pace speeds up.
Words, incomplete sentences of gibberish that the other still manages to comprehend. Faster. Friction. Fire.
He lifted her completely off of her feet, commanding her to wrap it around his waist along with her other leg without uttering a word. Deeper. Harder. Faster still.
Close…so very close…and yet never close enough—once to each other and now to the pinnacle. The climax. They were getting closer to that defining moment of pure bliss. And yet…
The need to mark overcame him once again. This time the need was stronger than before and with no restraint in place he bit hard. Sinking teeth into flesh, as both found Nirvana. The screams were both of pain and pleasure.
Sinking to the floor, he caught her before she hit the ground. Turning around so that he sat now with her resting against him. Panting they took this time to allow themselves the luxury of not thinking. The pleasure had been sublime. It was cloaked in a veil of unrealness even as reality made its ugly head into their sex soaked minds.
What have we done warred with the need to do what they had done again…and again…and…
Casually, as there wasn’t any other way to do it, he thought, he pulled out his wand and pressed it to her still bleeding wound on her neck. A quiet spell later and it was healed leaving a silvery scar as a reminder. He could have done away with that as well, but he wasn’t as thoroughly modern as many may have thought. And with this witch, he knew, he never would be again.
She stood up as best as she could, nearly like a newborn colt taking its first stumbling steps. He steadied her even as his eyes became glued to that spot between her thighs. It was his new temple. And worship there he would, every chance he could get. The witch let out a startled yelp as his mouth went there, tasting and lapping at their combined essences until she was pushed to the peak once more. He caught her once again, as her limbs went to liquid and she melted in the white hot heat of orgasm.
Her arms loosely draped around him even as his went all the tighter about her. Settling the witch against his body, he let out a sigh of contentment. All was right in the universe. The planets were in alignment…Even as everything else started to fall apart.
“What are we going to tell them?” Hermione asked, tears thick in her voice.
“I don’t know,” Harry whispered. “The only thing we can, I guess.”
“What’s that?” she inquired, a sad edge of desperation tinting her words.
Kissing her temple, he told her, “The truth.”
The End
***
There you go! That's all I wrote. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think of it. Normally, I have to say that I stay away from writing cheating fictions, as it goes against my personal grain as it were. But I have to say that no one else seemed to work for this pairing for me. Let me know what you think. Thanks again and have a wonderful day.
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!
***
Patience in everything—from the mild nearly imperceptible flirtation in public to the press of bodies on the dance floor where the hint of what was to come breezed through minds too preoccupied with sex to really concern themselves with just whom they were contemplating who they were doing this with.
Primary needs get in the way to be sure, but the need for patience never leaves the mind, as the hunter doesn’t want their prey to flee. But who pray tell is the hunter or, for that matter, the hunted? Both think they are in charge and both think the other the ripe catch of the day. So where does one distinguish fact from fiction in this case? Or was it a paradox for the ages?
Girl, woman, witch, huntress, siren, innocent, and yet not floods the man’s mind even as blood rushes down to harden. Patience, he reminds himself yet again and still he wants, no, needs to move faster to capture his prey.
Boy, man, wizard, hunter, incubus, far from innocent, and yet not comes to the woman’s mind even as she feels the rushing beat of her heart. Patience, she reminds herself yet again and still…
The war for patience is abandoned somewhere along the line and soon the pair find themselves in a broom closet of all places. Too preoccupied with the taste of the other to be overly concerned that they were seen slipping into the darkness for privacy—for each other.
The capture of lips, tasting the other’s mouths with a hunger neither had ever experienced before. Need, like a starved beast reared its head and had them both tearing the other’s clothing to get closer. Closer still. And yet could they ever get close enough?
Fabrics are ripped, textiles discarded, and panties tucked into a robe pocket to study later were the order of the moment. Coherent thought would have to wait as well, as the last of those fled once they decided in their last separate act in the small broom closet that becoming completely unclothed wasn’t the wisest of ideas.
It was in this dark private place, a cave for the new ages as it were, where the primitive was unlocked in the minds of two thoroughly modern individuals. His need to mark had him nuzzling and tasting her neck even as he was contemplating nipping if not biting that same flesh. Her need to be taken had her stepping on his feet to gain the inches needed to press her core to his. A bite, a gasp of shock, and a leg wrapped around a hip—closer, yet…
The need for more drives them further into the fray. More flesh, more smells, more tastes, more…and more…and…
Pinning her to the stone, he drives into her. Cock into cunt. Like a knife being slid into its sheath. Home. The rhythm begins. An age old tango of flesh and bone that makes all feel immortal while all the time knowing their utter humanity. More, closer, and the steady pace speeds up.
Words, incomplete sentences of gibberish that the other still manages to comprehend. Faster. Friction. Fire.
He lifted her completely off of her feet, commanding her to wrap it around his waist along with her other leg without uttering a word. Deeper. Harder. Faster still.
Close…so very close…and yet never close enough—once to each other and now to the pinnacle. The climax. They were getting closer to that defining moment of pure bliss. And yet…
The need to mark overcame him once again. This time the need was stronger than before and with no restraint in place he bit hard. Sinking teeth into flesh, as both found Nirvana. The screams were both of pain and pleasure.
Sinking to the floor, he caught her before she hit the ground. Turning around so that he sat now with her resting against him. Panting they took this time to allow themselves the luxury of not thinking. The pleasure had been sublime. It was cloaked in a veil of unrealness even as reality made its ugly head into their sex soaked minds.
What have we done warred with the need to do what they had done again…and again…and…
Casually, as there wasn’t any other way to do it, he thought, he pulled out his wand and pressed it to her still bleeding wound on her neck. A quiet spell later and it was healed leaving a silvery scar as a reminder. He could have done away with that as well, but he wasn’t as thoroughly modern as many may have thought. And with this witch, he knew, he never would be again.
She stood up as best as she could, nearly like a newborn colt taking its first stumbling steps. He steadied her even as his eyes became glued to that spot between her thighs. It was his new temple. And worship there he would, every chance he could get. The witch let out a startled yelp as his mouth went there, tasting and lapping at their combined essences until she was pushed to the peak once more. He caught her once again, as her limbs went to liquid and she melted in the white hot heat of orgasm.
Her arms loosely draped around him even as his went all the tighter about her. Settling the witch against his body, he let out a sigh of contentment. All was right in the universe. The planets were in alignment…Even as everything else started to fall apart.
“What are we going to tell them?” Hermione asked, tears thick in her voice.
“I don’t know,” Harry whispered. “The only thing we can, I guess.”
“What’s that?” she inquired, a sad edge of desperation tinting her words.
Kissing her temple, he told her, “The truth.”
The End
***
There you go! That's all I wrote. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think of it. Normally, I have to say that I stay away from writing cheating fictions, as it goes against my personal grain as it were. But I have to say that no one else seemed to work for this pairing for me. Let me know what you think. Thanks again and have a wonderful day.