"Don't laugh, Severus."
"You have asked me a moment too late, my dear. This is…exquisite."
"Oh for Nimue's sake, laugh then, but come and help me."
Severus Snape, founder and co-owner of Fantastical Potions and Phyltres, just stood and looked. To be honest, the view from where he stood was rather delicious. It seemed that Hermione Snape, co-owner of the above-mentioned store and also his wife, was bent over at rather an acute angle with her hair caught on the workbench. This angle meant that her posterior was pointing directly towards him, and wriggling in a most enticing and distracting manner, thus explaining his reluctance to change his viewpoint. However, being as he was a very dedicated and attentive husband, he finally quit his rear-facing position and walked around to where his wife's face was resting on the cover of a battered and well-used copy of Holdfast's Best Adhesives.
He crouched down and looked over the situation. As far as he could tell, Hermione's hair had come loose from her scarf (her usual form of hair restraint in the lab) as a result of her stool slipping out from under her as she leant over the workbench to stir the current concoction. In an attempt to right herself, she had knocked the beaker of glue which had then spilt all over the benchtop. Her hair had become soaked in the mixture, as had her hands which had landed right in the puddle of fast-drying adhesive. As a result, she was held fast, unable to move from the crouching position in which she had landed without pulling her hair out by the roots or taking a rather painful layer of skin off both of her hands and forearms. Her head had only been saved from worse by landing on the textbook, which held it slightly above the desk level without her having to hold it up continuously.
"You appear to be stuck."
"Ten points to Slytherin for stating the BLOODY OBVIOUS." Hermione twisted slightly, then winced at the pain this produced. "Would you just get me off here? Use a Scourgify or something, please, before it sets solid."
Severus stepped back out of her view, ostensibly to further inspect the predicament his good wife found herself in, but also to hide his increasingly wicked grin from her sight.
"Scourgify won't work in this instance, dear. You were, after all, trying to create a liquid version of the Permanent Sticking Charm, and it appears that you have succeeded beyond all belief. Which leaves you in a rather awkward position and unable to defend yourself."
"Defend mys… SeverUS!" The last syllable was a shriek, as Severus employed not a Scourgify but a Sectumsempra with laser-like precision to slice off her robes, dress and knickers at her waistline. Unencumbered, the rags fell to the floor, leaving only a pair of stay-up stockings – and they, of course, really didn't cover anything.
"I do believe I could make use of this situation." Severus ran one finger gently up over the stocking from the back of Hermione's left knee to where it clung around the top of her thigh. "It has come to my attention, dear, that I could do almost anything I wanted to you and you would not be able to stop me."
"That's as may be, but I'll still deal with you later." Hermione's voice came through gritted teeth, as Severus's finger gently ran around the top of the stocking, slipping between her thighs and tantalisingly about two inches below where she was starting to think she might enjoy its attentions. "Don't you start getting any ide… ohhhhh."
Severus's finger was travelling slowly up between her thighs, and had reached her vulva. He circled around the lips, then slowly up towards the front of her cleft.
"Was that a request to stop?"
Hermione's response was lost in her groan as he arrived at her clit and began circling it.
"I shall continue, then. Consider this a form of experimentation, where I can decide when and where to apply my abilities. I can slip fingers into your sweet and very wet cunt, or I can just walk away."
The resultant sound was halfway between frustration and a possible plea for a continuation of the activities. Severus considered for a moment, then stopped. The reaction time was impressively fast.
"Oh god why did you stop?? " Hermione's voice was almost a whimper.
"I was trying to come to a decision about whether you should come before or after I've had my wicked way with you."
The sound from the bench was a rather grumpy whine, probably caused by Severus slipping his finger up and inside her sweet cunt, and applying small sensations to the nerve endings therein. With his thumb now rubbing over her clitoris, and his fingers slipping in, out and around her entrance, he was able to get the most lovely range of moans and sighs, starting from a low rumble and working their way up until it seemed that she would have the answer to his question very shortly.
He stopped again.
"Ohhhhh – please? Pretty please?"
"Normally," mused Severus, "I would insist on your own ministrations upon my rather neglected cock. Make use of your tongue, or at the very least, your hands. But I fear I would be putting more delicate parts of me in danger of adhesion, were I to attempt this. So this once, I think … " And he resumed his efforts with his right hand as he used his left to undo the buttons at the front of his robe and free his cock. The sound of Hermione's moans rising to shrieks of pleasure, and the feel of the swelling of her labia and vulva as she became more and more excited, had quite the effect on his own organ. It twitched and rose, hard as a rock, and at the moment Hermione's pleasure reached its first peak, he slipped into her and began ramming her, hard.
Years of practice at self-control meant that Severus could hold back on his own impending orgasm for a little while. Not too long, though – the extreme pleasure Hermione was receiving, and the second and third peaks that she reached while he thrust into her, were giving him a great deal of sensation as well. He carefully withdrew after she calmed a little, his cock glistening and still rigid. With his right hand he gestured silently to a jar of ointment on a nearby shelf, which flew over and straight into his waiting grasp. It was the work of a moment to open the jar, lather two fingers with the slippery mixture, and gently apply it to Hermione's terribly tempting arsehole.
Although he paused once he'd done it, mindful always of the care and respect the pair of them had. She understood, completely.
"Do it. Go ahead. Oh god, please, fuck my arse."
"With great pleasure, my dear."
And with that reassurance, Severus lined his cock up carefully with the beckoning hole, and eased his way in while gently reaching around with the other hand and stroking Hermione's clitoris. With every touch, she pushed back to meet him, and as he felt his own passion rise, he increased the tempo of his thrusting and the pressure on her clit.
They managed to hold on for just over two minutes. One hundred and twenty-five seconds later, her screams stopped abruptly as a wave of extreme pleasure rushed through both of them, and Hermione found herself overcome with incredible sensations that ran all the way from her toes to the back of her scalp. Her husband's low, loud cry of joy came also from somewhere deep inside, and they fell back onto the bench then slid off.
It took a couple of moments for Hermione to realise this, though. She snuggled up to Severus, the pair of them curled on the remains of her clothes, then she sat up and looked at her hands.
"The glue! Severus – did you do something?"
"Hmmmph." The exhausted mumble from behind her was unintelligible, so she turned and shook his shoulder.
"What happened to the glue?"
"Oh. Yes. I've never been able to get it to last longer than ten minutes. I think it's supposed to be temporary, and then it dissolves into salt and water."
Hermione, raised one hand to slap him, but instead pulled him closer for a kiss. "Then next time, I'm trying it on you. I have plans…"
But he was already asleep.