Little Serpent

Disclaimer: I don\'t own these characters, I only love them.
Warning: Teacher/Student.


I should have turned him out when he came to my office to discuss… something about the team, was it, this time? I should have stilled his hand as he stroked me through my robes, finding me half-hard just from seeing him walk through the door. I should have gotten away somehow when he straddled me, when he opened himself with his fingers then slowly took me in, sliding suspiciously easily….

Offering me someone\'s…Potter\'s…. sloppy seconds, boy?

I do not make the unfounded accusation, not again. For all the mooning looks the blond boy gives him; Potter remains blissfully ignorant. Draco has simply come prepared. Meticulous and self-assured, though he had played the part of the innocent virgin convincingly enough the first time he came to my office looking for more than academic guidance.

Weak. I am weak. I sit back on my chair as he moves on me, pressing down then sliding up again, ever so slightly, crude parody of a boy bouncing on his father\'s knees. His face is serene, he\'s hardly sweating from the effort, eyes half closed, rosy lips parted. He clenches hard around me. I can see he is close. His fist, slick with precome, is moving quickly on his length. A cry escapes him as he releases, tightening and relaxing around me. I barely manage to hold back. I\'m not quite done with him.

He is limp on top of me. I get up, carrying him, still joined, and place him on my desk. Some of the essays I\'d been marking peek at me under his half-naked body. A paragraph crossed out in unforgiving red ink, a scribbled comment. His own essay is also somewhere in the pile, probably the only one where the red ink doesn\'t overcome the black.

I push inside my star pupil, raising his legs as far as his trousers will allow. I prefer only to see what\'s necessary, he knows that now. I had to turn him out that afternoon when he had the presumption to come to me wearing nothing under his robes.

\"Fuck, yes! Please, harder… please!\"

He begs so nicely… I pick up speed, fucking viciously Lucius\' precious boy. He takes it all, split in two under me and as agile as he is, he can\'t be comfortable. I slip a hand under his back to ease the strain. His spine shifts, uneven under my hand like a deformed snake.

My little serpent… He knows what he wants from me and that no matter what arbitrary rules I set, he will still get it. I shove inside him hard, all rhythm gone… close, too close and the sweat that runs down my forehead falls in my eyes, blinding me for a moment. It doesn\'t last. I blink back and there he is, a sensual vision and I have leaned so close I can smell his breath.

We\'ve been smoking again, Mr Malfoy? Would my yellow teeth go well with your angelic face?

The smell doesn\'t put me off… I still very much want to taste those lips as pleasure courses inside me, pooling my awareness between my legs. I cover the sinful mouth with my hand as I pull him even closer. He is hard again, trying to rub against my stomach but waits patiently for me to be done, knowing that I will take care of him later.

I let myself go. I\'m whispering something to him… probably his name over and over again and the occasional curse. Whatever he\'s saying is muffled by my hand.

I slowly recover from my little death. Draco\'s breath is warm under my fingers, his lips moving under my palm. Chapped lips, not soft as they\'d looked. Still dangerous. There\'s a lick and then a small bite. He bites harder until I finally pull back my hand. I raise myself on my elbows letting him uncurl from under me. He is a beautiful dirty mess, his pink tipped erection touching his pristine white shirt. Unthinking I lean and take the stiff flesh in my mouth. Draco gasps in shock at the variation I decided to offer him this afternoon. I suckle hard, employing every trick I know and soon he grabs my hand and presses it against his mouth again to muffle his cries.

Annoying little drama queen. My silencing charms are holding perfectly well.

I let my head rest on his stomach for a moment. I need to clean him up, and myself and quite possibly the parchments under us, lest my students get them back marked with something more than my trusted red ink. With a sigh, I prop myself up on my elbows again. I reach and smooth out a blond lock. He needs to leave my office looking as decent as possible. At least, that\'s what I tell myself as my hand lingers in his hair.