Twenty-One

Hermione had fallen asleep shortly after Severus, and the question had sunk to the back of her mind. When she awoke the next day, she felt only a deep contentment and was simply happy to wake up beside him.

It was difficult to part, but they were encouraged by the knowledge that they had an excuse to see each other that day in a lesson.

As she kissed him goodbye, her despair caught against his lips. "I don't know how I can survive your lessons anymore. It's too painful to have to sit there staring at you and listening to you and not to have you."

"Hmm." He was nibbling her neck.

"But you're so calm and rational; you never seem to be distracted by anything."

"It is only a mask. You must know that for the last few weeks I have taught nearly every lesson with you in it with only one thought in mind."

"And that thought being ...?"

"To bury myself as deep inside you as it is possible to be."

Hermione smiled broadly as Severus continued to nuzzle her collarbone. She held him there as long as she dared before pulling him off. "I have to go. I have an important Dark Arts lesson for my NEWT extension paper. I'll see you later ..." But just as she started to move away, she could only turn swiftly back again. "Oh god, I hate saying goodbye, my darling ... my darling ... last night was just ... incredible ... my sweet darling ... stay with me ..." She showered him in kisses; he responded with added fervour. At last Hermione tore herself away and made it to the door.

"Miss Granger!" His sudden sharp tone surprised her and she spun back to look at him. He was smirking languidly. "I seem to recall setting you an essay which was due in today. I hope it will be forthcoming by the end of the day."

She could only stare for a moment. Was he serious? In his own warped way, she knew he was. But she would oblige ― somehow. Her mind flicked into action.

"Oh yes, Professor, I do recall. I can assure you, I will ... produce something." She smirked in return then spun out of the door.

The morning passed slowly, the hours until Potions class dragging relentlessly. Hermione's desire seemed to be stronger than ever. The coming together of their emotional and physical intensity the day before brought out such longing for him that she wondered how on earth she could keep up the charade of decorum any longer. By the time the lesson arrived her belly was protesting its need desperately. It was as if she had a caged beast inside her, frantic for release.

She and Ginny were the first to arrive at Potions. Snape was sitting at his desk but rose as soon as they entered and walked over to them. Hermione was aware that the two people she was with both knew the situation regarding the other, and without thinking things through any further, she hurried over to her Professor and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Snape was taken aback, but his own lust was soon evident against her thighs and they both seemed to forget about the woman in the room. The Potions Master twisted his fingers in Hermione's hair, turning her head brutally to force her mouth open for him.

Ginny coughed.

After a while the sound registered on their consciousness and they slowly pulled apart.

"Don't mind me," Ginny said awkwardly, clearly more than a little disturbed by the sight. "I take it he knows I know then."

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said sombrely. "He doesn't mind. Do you, Severus?"

Before he could answer, Ginny spoke. "Apparently not." She turned away from them.

"Sorry," muttered Hermione, "it's just ... we ... just want each other ..."

Ginny held up her hand quickly, a grimace on her face. "Enough! Thank you! You know, Mione, when you don't like me talking about Harry ... like that ... I think I understand exactly what you mean now." She turned her back on them. Hermione smiled a little before squeezing his hand and moving away at the moment before more students came into the class.

Hermione and Ginny hung back, eventually finding a spare table at the back of the class.

Snape launched into his lesson, his voice winding its deep way to Hermione at the rear of the room. Her insides coiled.

"God," she moaned softly to Ginny. "Couldn't you come just listening to him?"

Ginny nearly snorted with surprise. "I know I said he had a gorgeous voice, but ... I think maybe it would take a bit more than that."

Hermione turned to her, almost surprised to hear her dissent. Her eyebrows rose before the two girls dissolved into quiet giggles. It did not go unnoticed.

"Miss Granger! Miss Weasley! You will kindly desist from your disruptive behaviour and focus your attention on me."

"Certainly ... sir." Hermione smiled her sweetest smile, leaning her head on her hands and staring fixedly at him from the back of the room.

Snape's flow of speech had been interrupted and his face twitched with a combination of annoyance and desire. "Ten points from Gryffindor," he hissed towards them.

"Bastard," Ginny could not help but mumble under her breath.

Hermione turned to glare at her. "Sexy bastard," she corrected with a smirk. "That is my lover you're talking about."

Ginny smiled. "Maybe ... but he can still be a vindictive git."

Hermione had turned to stare back at him, her belly churning its need. "I really don't give a shit," she said, her eyes boring into his body.

"No ... that's what I gathered."

The lesson progressed. Hermione could not take her eyes from him. She found herself squirming along her chair in a desperate attempt to ease the throbbing ache constantly threatening to overwhelm her sanity. She had not listened to a word he had said; the only image her mind provided her with was one of him pinning her to his desk while he drove into her over and over again. It was intolerable.

And then their eyes met. She held his gaze and mouthed to him quite clearly, "Make – me – come."

Snape's fluid discourse was halted momentarily, then he swiftly lowered his gaze and continued. No-one noticed.

At the start of the practical part of the lesson, Snape began moving around the classroom, inspecting different concoctions. Ginny had moved to a separate table in front of Hermione, leaving her alone at the back, out of sight of the other students. It was a complicated potion, but luckily Hermione had had experience of it before and could produce it easily. The other students however, including Ginny, were huddled over their cauldrons, brows furrowed in deep concentration.

While adding ingredients, Hermione kept her eyes trained on her Potions Master. He was working his way from student to student, a stream of criticism flowing from his mouth as usual, but a little more muted than usual, she noted. Hermione's skin tingled with anticipation. God, he must come to her now.

At last, his slow footsteps worked their way to Ginny, and for once he actually paid her a mild compliment on the care with which she added her elder sap. Ginny glowed with satisfaction and applied herself to improving her potion yet more. Then he turned and, with head lowered, made his way to Hermione's table.

"Miss Granger."

"Professor Snape."

He stepped close into her, his robes brushing against her arms. She turned her head to his, but kept her body facing the table, grateful for its support. He stared hard into her eyes. His were impassive, but his proximity signalled their mutual lust. She breathed in deep to try to capture much-needed oxygen.

His delicious aroma filled her senses, forcing her eyes closed. Her flesh screamed for his touch.

He stepped in yet further, the side of his body pressing against hers. As he breathed into her ear, his voice came so low and silky she thought she may pass out. "I trust your inattention of earlier has not resulted in a botched mixture."

"I hope you can see, Professor, that I have produced the potion exactly as you specified."

He leaned over her, his body long and lithe, pushing her further into the desk. "Hmm ... it appears satisfactory, but then ... so did the last one, which then resulted in the near-death of your friend."

She could only exhale a long, slow breath of desperate desire.

He did not move but remained at her side. She could feel his erection pushing firm against her thigh.

"Please ..." It was so soft as to be barely audible, but it was enough.

The students in front of them were fully engaged in their potions, seemingly unaware of all but their work. There was a low clatter of spoons and cauldrons and concentrated murmuring as they applied themselves to mixing their ingredients.

Then, at the back of her legs, Hermione felt a touch: long, warm fingers, questing up, higher, ever higher, pulling her skirt with them. His hand drew itself languorously up until it found the smooth naked flesh of her rump. Once again, she was wearing no underwear.

"Miss Granger ... I think I have mentioned about wearing the correct uniform before. I think a detention may be in order this time." He was caressing her backside in slow, languid circles. She could only moan in response.

Then, with a slight grunt of his own, he quickly drew his hand down and, curling his fingers, suddenly thrust two up inside her. Her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped in a breath. The fingers moved deftly, stroking deliciously along her sweetest spot.

Her head fell back and she whispered to him, so low only he could hear, "That's so good ... you're so good ..."

Another digit was inserted into her; she vaguely registered it as his thumb. But almost immediately it was withdrawn from her again. She moaned softly with disappointment.

But with another grunt of concentration and a tensing of his own body, his hand twisted and she felt a pressure on the tight, tender opening of her arse. It was his thumb, slick with her own desire. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Relax," he hissed against her ear. She did so, pulling in a breath of anticipation. Slowly, he eased his thumb into her tightest passage. A gasp rose involuntarily from Hermione with the sensation. It was not pain as she had expected, but merely heightened the exquisite feelings he was still drawing from her pussy.

Then one finger came out and swept up to her clit, touching with the lightest touches, but still causing her to buck against his hand with a moan.

"Shhh," he breathed hard again into her ear. Hermione blearily looked out at the students before her; they were still concentrating intently on their potions.

Now he moved more urgently, circling her clit firmly and moving his thumb deliciously inside her arse. He still managed to keep one finger deep inside her pussy, and the pleasure which had been poised to break for so long quickly came to a point of release.

"Oh fuck ... oh fuck ... now ... now ..." With a barely audible groan as his fingers and thumb strummed one final time, she came rapturously. As was quickly becoming a habit with him, he brought his free hand up to clamp hard upon her mouth to stifle her cries as her body shook around him. Her spasms were nearly uncontrollable, and he could not contain a small grunt of satisfaction at the sight and feel of this woman coming apart on his fingers. He pulled her in even tighter, holding her steady as her pleasure engulfed her.

When at last her body had relaxed, Snape withdrew his hand and moved away, before glancing one final time into her cauldron. "Yes, Miss Granger, I would declare myself happy with your efforts today."

Then, without another look, he turned and walked away, casting a cleansing charm over himself before continuing to peruse the other students' potions.

At the end of the lesson, Ginny turned to find a glowing but slightly dishevelled Hermione behind her.

"What happened to you?" she asked in confusion.

Hermione merely smiled.

"You are joking! I thought he was spending a long time looking at your work. Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ginny rolled her eyes but turned away with a smirk.

Hermione lingered in the classroom while Ginny waited at the doorway. It was the end of the day, but the two witches had a meeting to sort out Gryffindor's decorations for the ball. Hermione approached Snape. "I have to go now, but I'll come to you later. Are you free?"

He nodded insistently. "Don't be late."

Glancing back at Ginny, who was discreetly trying to ignore them, she leant up to kiss him, breathing against his lips, "Thank you for ... earlier. Weren't you worried that we might be seen?"

"We were safe enough. To the casual observer, it would have seemed that I was merely assisting you with your potion. In any case ..."

She waited for him to continue. He had lowered his eyes.

"What?"

"I find ... I am not so concerned about it any longer." His eyes moved up to hers again.

Her heart swelled. She reached up to kiss him deeply once again. "Still," she breathed, resting her forehead against his, "I don't want to jeopardise your job. We must be careful."

"We will be." He gave her one more kiss.

"Hermione. We have to go." Ginny called apologetically from the doorway.

"I'm coming," she replied before turning back to Severus. "Goodbye, my sweet darling. I'll be here soon."

He allowed himself a warm smile at her words. She had called him that earlier, and it had filled him with such satisfying joy that he could hardly identify the feeling. Never had anyone called him anything remotely approaching that before. It healed another of the countless wounds to his soul.

As they walked away, Hermione fell quiet, not wanting to be parted from him for a moment.

"You must be careful, you know, 'Mione," Ginny said sombrely. "You don't want to risk buggering up your NEWTs at this stage."

"We are being careful," she replied defensively. "I don't want to get him sacked, more to the point. I'll get my NEWTs somehow."

Ginny stopped abruptly. "I can't believe you're saying that. Your academic work is paramount to you. Have you lost all sense of perspective?" She sounded shocked and angry.

Hermione looked at her, a frown on her face. "The preparation for my NEWTs is hardly taxing me, Ginny. If I hadn't had ... him ... I think I would have died of boredom this term. I'll be twenty next birthday! I mean, for god's sake, after all I've been through! Academic life doesn't exactly do it for me anymore!" She turned and stormed off, leaving Ginny open-mouthed in the corridor.

They both went to the meeting, but barely spoke a word to each other.

At supper that night, Hermione hardly looked up at Ginny, but realised in her heart that she must have sounded like a selfish arrogant cow. When Ginny got up to leave she hurried after her. "Gin!" Her friend turned slowly round to her, but set her face straight.

"I'm sorry. I just ... I don't know what's going to happen. I don't want to be 'institutionalised' any more, but equally, I don't want to leave him ... it just ... scares me a bit, that's all."

Ginny relaxed somewhat. "Why don't you talk to him about it?"

"We will ... we will ..."

"But you haven't yet?"

"No ... there hasn't been a right time, I guess. We have touched on it, but ... then it's kind of been brushed under the carpet."

"Well, you have to, 'Mione, simple as that." Ginny looked at her friend with sincere concern. "Come on – you coming up to the Common Room for a bit?"

"Only a little – I ..." Hermione's voice trailed off. They both knew what she meant.

"Yeah yeah ... well, he can wait a little – he's not the only one who wants a piece of you." Ginny linked her arm into Hermione's and together they walked up to Gryffindor Tower. "Don't forget Harry and Ron are coming tomorrow."

"God, I hadn't realised it was so soon. Shit – I don't know how to deal with them regarding ... this."

"I've been thinking. It might be an idea to keep it to yourself for a bit. Harry may be OK, but my brother is very protective of you in a different way. I know you split up mutually and happily, but I think he still feels you kind of belong to him in that way ... romantically. He'd be wary of anyone ― but Severus Snape!? Bloody hell!"

"But I heard he's been seeing other people. It's not going to be one rule for him and something different for me!" Ron's approach to life irked her again.

"I know. But you know what he's like."

"All too well." She rolled her eyes.

"There's another matter to discuss as well."

"What's that?"

"The ball."

"Hm." Hermione had tried to avoid thinking about that particular matter, but the meeting had reminded her with abundant force.

"It won't be much fun without a partner, you know. Loads of people are going just as friends. Why don't you go with someone like that?"

"Oh god, Gin, I really don't know. I mean, Severus is kind of ... the jealous type. You should have seen the way he reacted when I just sat next to Lawrence the other day. I don't think he could stand seeing me with anyone else, even if it was only platonic."

"Well, that's his problem, not yours."

"Yes, but ..."

"But what?"

"I don't want to mess up what's been happening between us recently. It's been so good, Ginny ... so good."

"Well – you know you want to go to the ball ― we all want you to go to the ball. Just find a partner and be honest with Snape – tell him you want to go and need a partner and it doesn't mean anything etcetera etcetera etcetera."

"Easier said than done."

Ginny shrugged. "Whatever ... but you need to get your skates on ... the ball's in a couple of weeks."

This also meant her time at the school was drawing to a close. Hermione's heart suddenly sank through her body. As much as she wanted to move on, out of Hogwarts with him, their time here was predictable, reliable, they knew where they stood, enjoyed the odd dynamics of their institutional relationship.

Ginny muttered the password to the Fat Lady, who complained about the poor diction of students these days, and entered the Common Room. Hermione's eyes immediately fell on Lawrence Filmore. She had managed more or less to avoid him, but as if on cue after their discussion about the ball, here he was, his bright eyes smiling up at her. She sighed deeply but managed a watery smile back at him.

As she was heading for her room, she heard footsteps behind her, and turned around. It was him. "Hi, Hermione! Haven't seen you to talk to for ages. How you been?"

"Good, thanks, Lawrence ... yourself?"

"Yeah ... y'know ... lots of practice and matches."

God, could the boy talk of nothing except Quidditch? She smiled vacantly.

He shuffled nervously. "Hermione, could I have a word?"

Here we go.

"Sure, Lawrence." He motioned her over to a corner of the corridor leading to the staircase.

"Uhh ... I've been meaning to ask ... you know this ball ... I was just wondering if you'd ... y'know ... if you'd like to go with me?"

Shit. Predictable, but shit nonetheless. Couldn't some ugly spotty nerd have asked her?

"Oh, Lawrence. Goodness. I hadn't really thought about going at all. I'm not sure if I'll be free."

"Sure you will." He was suddenly bolder and more insistent. "Everyone will be free that night. It's going to be one of the biggest celebrations this place has ever seen. Loads of important people are coming from the Ministry and everything."

"Are they?" She tried to delay answering the question.

"Yeah ... so ... what do you think?"

Hermione just stared at him and smiled awkwardly. She should have been better prepared for this. She had just been discussing it, but now found her brain unable to come up with the best response. She knew there was no way she could go with Snape, as she would so love, but acknowledged that she did desperately want to go, and really needed to go with someone. It was always miserable and impractical to go on your own. You were expected to have a partner. What was she supposed to do? If she said yes, she knew Severus would be desolate, even if she made it clear that it was simply platonic.

She looked at Lawrence, his blue eyes smiling as flirtatiously as they ever had. It would certainly not be platonic from his point of view.

"Lawrence ... I ... I don't know ..."

"Is there someone else?"

Say yes. Say yes.

"No ... no ... it's just ... Ron ... you know ... he still gets jealous."

"But you've finished with him. You don't have to worry about that."

"Well ... yeah ... but ..." The blue eyes now took on the expression of a pleading puppy. She was lost for a sensible and sensitive response. "Can I think about it?"

He looked disappointed not to get an immediate answer but took her non-refusal as encouragement.

"Yeah ... no problem ... fine I'll ...err ... I'll catch you later ... bye, 'Mione." With a final dazzling smile, he left, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets.

Hermione turned away and stomped up to her room.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Why couldn't she have just said no straight out?

Hermione sat on her bed, dejected and pathetic. The ball issue would not go away, but she knew there was only one thing that for now would block it out of her mind.

She stood quickly and left her room. Ginny saw her leave, and Hermione caught her look of disappointment as she hurried out of the common room so soon after arriving, but she still managed a resigned smile to her friend.

Hermione almost ran to the Dungeons. On entering his room, she found him once again at his desk and rushed over to him. He stood suddenly, almost surprised to find her so quickly upon him. She tore at his clothes, pulling at her own in the process. "Please ... please ... hurry ... come inside me ... have to have you inside me now ... oh god, please ... hurry, Severus."

She lay swiftly on his desk, crumpling the parchment he had been writing on, groaning at the wait, although in reality it was no time at all. He had risen as soon she had rushed over to him, and it took him only a few seconds to release his cock, position himself and plunge into her.

"Oh god, yes!" The cry rose from her as he filled her deep and hard instantly. She sat up, gripping his arm hard. "Don't move ... just stay still ... fuck, don't move! I just want to feel you ... know you're there." Her eyes widened as she focused on his hardness inside her, stretching her. She held his gaze. He was looking down at her in sheer wonder. She could not help but smile up at him in equal awe. "Do you know how good you feel inside me? Do you know what it feels like to have you filling me so hard and so completely?"

He did not reply, but his black eyes continued to sear her soul. She lay back down and bucked, causing him to groan with the sudden pleasure.

"Now fuck me."

He obliged.

One hand came up to her breast, squeezing, pinching the nipple, the other dug into her hip, holding her still on the desk as best he could. She was groaning incessantly, urging him on, an unending stream of filth emerging from her beautiful red mouth. The paradox of this perfect witch speaking such crude words was too much for him, and he knew he would come soon. His balls tightened and he shut his eyes, trying to stem the tide of rising pleasure until he knew she was satisfied.

He thrust harder and harder, twisting the nipple brutally in his fingertips. "Fuck, witch, come for me, come for me, can't hold on ... I can't hold on ..."

She came. Hermione convulsed around him, her pleasure washing through her, reaching the tips of her toes. As she screamed his name out he exploded, his cock releasing shot upon shot of his seed up into her.

"Hermione ... Hermione ... Hermione ..." Her name was chanted on his lips, almost inaudible, but causing her post-orgasmic bliss to be further deepened.

After they had come down from their pleasure, she sat up, still joined to him. He encircled his arms about her and held her tight. Then, after he had softened and slipped out, they walked to the bedroom and immediately fell into bed.

They lay quietly for a while, her head resting on his chest, his long fingers stroking her hair.

"Miss Granger." That familiar ominous drawl. "Where is my essay?"

She sat up with a smirk. "Professor Snape – you know I never disappoint."

He raised a cynical eyebrow. Hermione merely grinned provocatively at him. She got out of bed and went back to his classroom. A moment later she returned with a quill and ink pot.

"Just give me a moment. Now ― I have the ink and the quill ― I just need something to write on ..."

With a teasing bite of her lip, she stood over him before throwing the covers off him, revealing his long, taut, naked body beneath her, the pale flesh glowing in the candlelight.

She smirked deliciously at him. He stared up at her but said not a word. His breathing deepened and she could see his cock twitching into life again already. Hermione reached down with the quill and tapped the ever-swelling head reproachfully with the feather. "Oh no. You'll have to wait. I mustn't miss a deadline, must I, Professor?"

With that she knelt and opened the ink pot. Dipping the quill in, she held it teasingly to her lips for a moment. "Now let me see ..."

Then turning to him, she slowly, so slowly, brought the tip of the quill down to the smooth arch of his chest. It hovered tantalisingly over his luminous skin before she touched it to the flesh. He inhaled sharply but did not stop her. The quill started to move over his chest, scratching as it went, but the ink from the broad nib flowed smoothly enough. She knew it would be tickling him at best, a teasing graze at worst. Her hand moved fluidly and more and more words appeared.

"The Properties of the Various Ingredients to be Found in a Potion Master's Cupboard." She paused briefly, as if thinking hard. Then her hand lowered again and she started to write. He groaned loudly this time. "Number one: Dragon's Blood ― a rare and precious ingredient, characterised by its viscosity and deep red hue. The blood of the Ruritanian Red is the most potent variety but can only be obtained ..." She continued writing fluently.

Soon, her words had covered most of his torso, and she found herself writing frantically over his smooth, firm belly. Her scribing was accompanied by an almost ceaseless moaning from the man beneath her hands. His flesh quivered as she scraped the nib over it, but she knew how much delicious pleasure it was giving him. She tried to move further down, but found her elbow bumping against his engorged cock.

"Tut!" she exhaled with mock annoyance. "How is one supposed to produce one's best work with all these impediments!?" Again, she lightly tapped the tip with her hand, causing him to grunt loudly with need and jerk towards her. An enticing drop of pre-cum formed on the top and she could not prevent herself from reaching her tongue up and running it deep into the slit to lick it up. He cried out with torment.

"Fuck, witch! You are too much. You torture me!"

She merely smirked. "Professor Snape – you set me an essay which is due in by the end of the day. Surely you would not wish me to let you down, would you?"

He threw his head back. The pleasure of the little scratches of the workings of this woman's mind etching themselves into his body was so deliciously erotic and sublime, that he closed his eyes tight and tried to focus only on what she was doing with the quill. Hermione had now moved to his right leg and was quickly filling it with her vast knowledge of potions ingredients.

"Number thirty two: Unicorn horn ― a highly precious and rare ingredient which should only be used sparingly. It is renowned for its restorative properties, and when ground properly gives off a faint blue glow, said to be the spirit of the unicorn itself infusing it with healing ..." More groans from the man above her.

She continued, filling his right leg then moving onto his left. Soon, the whole front of his body was filled with her fluid handwriting. She paused to blow over him, ensuring the ink was dry, and allowed herself a satisfied smile at her work so far.

"Turn over, please." Hermione spoke emphatically. With a loud moan, he complied immediately, although struggled to know what to do with his rigid cock.

"Number fifty: Baobab bark ― best stored in darkness as it can lose its magical properties quickly when exposed to light after having been stripped ..." She was now filling up his taut, muscular back. He tensed and flexed as the sharp point of the quill moved over his skin. "Lie still! I cannot be expected to concentrate with so much distracting movement to contend with." She revelled in her teasing, her voice chiding and berating him as he had so often done to her.

He settled under her. She continued. Her hand was soon at his firm buttocks and she delighted in pressing that little bit harder as she wrote over them. He stifled his groans into the pillow and ground his squashed erection into the mattress beneath him.

She moved down one leg then back to the other, finally ending at his ankle. " ... if used incorrectly will most certainly result in instant death." She pushed the quill in hard for the final full-stop. "There, finished."

She sat back up. "I should think that's about two thousand words. I trust that is sufficient, Professor Snape?"

He rolled over, his engorged cock immediately bouncing up to her. He was breathing rapidly, his eyes burning up at her in the dim light.

"You little ..." He did not finish his words. She raised a querying eyebrow but then turned to look down at his tattooed body and smiled in satisfaction. The tip of his cock was purple with lust and dripping with pre-cum.

She knew immediately what they both wanted. She brought her head up to his and whispered near him, "Now – for some unfinished business." He tried to kiss her, but she moved swiftly away. He was not disappointed for long, however, as she moved once more down his body, glancing over the words adorning his torso, before coming to rest over his achingly hard cock. He bucked up to her.

She would tease him no longer. In any case, she could not stem her own hunger. With a final look at it, she plunged her head fully onto him, taking him all the way down to her throat.

He groaned loudly, his hand coming to hold her there. She revelled in it. Pulling tightly back up, she dragged her sweet lips hard over him. Her tongue licked desperately around the head, questing into his slit, before she sank down onto him once more, then back up to drag over his skin as she went. She brought up her hand, cupping his sac gently at first, then with a light squeeze as her head moved regularly up and down over him.

He was groaning as incessantly as she had earlier on his desk. She responded with increased desperation; her hand squeezed his balls and she plunged tightly down onto him. As she rose off again, her tongue caught his head, and he came frantically, his fingers clenching in her hair. She caught all his seed in her mouth as he spurted time and again into her, each burst accompanied by a grunt of deepest pleasure. When at last he had stopped jolting into her mouth, she relaxed, but held him for a moment longer, before gently releasing him.

Then bringing herself up to him once again, she held his bleary gaze and swallowed.

His eyes took it in, then closed slowly.

She lay down along his adorned torso, and his hands encircled her to him.

"So ... what grade did I get?"

He paused before answering, planting a tender kiss on the top of her head.

"Outstanding."

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Sorry for the long wait on this one. Hope it was worth it. Surely their peace cannot last? Let me know your thoughts. LL x