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"Passionate Potions"

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Disclaimer: Oh, I hope Rowling doesn't read this one. I'm really pushing the limits of good taste with this one. So let me say that the devil made me do it. As such, the devil is not making any profit from this.


Hermione sighed with dramatic sorrow as glistening tears ran down her hot, blushing cheeks, like tiny liquid diamonds on red velvet. Her wavy chestnut tresses, glowing in the bedroom candlelight of the Potion Master’s secret lair, hid the love bites - inflicted against her will - upon the creamy column that was her neck.

"You can tell me... you MUST!" Severus demanded, his lean form silhouetted in his tight leather trousers. He tried walking over to Hermione, who lay sprawled across his velvet coverlet, but found it difficult, as the trousers had cut off the blood flow to his lower extremities, and his foot had fallen asleep.

"Oh, Severus!" She sniffled, making the two large swells that were her breasts come close to spilling out of her torn lace bodice, which barely covered her enticingly erect nipples. "Lucius... he... I can't say it."

"You must," Severus growled, as he hobbled over to the bed, eying her damp mounds of vanilla ice cream that he so desperately wanted to lick.

Once he managed to reach the bed, he sat down. His leather pants were on the verge of splitting, and revealing his white-hot throbbing manhood to his secret lover. His long fingers, strong and nimble, grabbed her arms, but not before his thumb deftly stroked the sides of one of her breasts that quivered like a blancmange. He shook her, which made the shoulders of her torn garment fall completely away, revealing her smooth-as-cream arms.

"Tell me what he did to you," he insisted in silky, commanding tones, as his thewy biceps flexed. He shook her once more, watching as one milky globe popped free of its confines like a volleyball at a beach tournament.

Past the point of shame as the rest of her cleavage spilled free, she cried, "He took me... forced himself upon me. And now that I am thusly soiled, I know that you shall never again wish to join with me in that ethereal plane of ecstasy. He has ruined the sacred temple of my body, which you'll worship nevermore."

Shaking his foot while hoping the feeling would soon return, Severus pulled her to his sinuous, manly chest, dusted with silken, ebony hair. He could feel the rosebuds that were her nipples brush against his lean form, exciting him to the point that he no longer cared that his man juice would co-mingle with that of his greatest enemy.

"I shall always want thee, my luscious Siren. For you have awakened me to the light and... and... and... damn! I can't think straight; these trousers are going to give me gangrene," Severus moaned with exasperation.

Flopping on his back, he unzipped the trousers and let out a sigh of relief.

Hermione sat up fully and glared at him, "You're the one who wanted to try something new. I thought this would be fun; that a little role-playing would get us in the mood. In all those romance novels, hurt-comfort sex is supposed to be so exhilarating."

Praying he could remove the leather trousers without damaging his chance of having children with Hermione in the future - if she didn't kill him first - he tried with heroic efforts to shimmy his arse free of the cowhide confines, but to no avail.

"Just because you don't want to try anal sex does not mean-"

"THAT IS AN EXIT ONLY ORIFICE, my dear Potions master. If you think I'm going to let you... you..."

"Fuck you up the arse?" Severus offered.

Shuddering at the thought, Hermione ignored his comment. "There are plenty of things we can do, other than that."

"Like what?" he asked incredulously. "Let's see shall we? We've done the whole Bondage and Discipline thing, switching roles even, S&M, I've fisted you, we've let Draco watch us fuck while he jerks off, we’ve screwed in a secluded corner of Flourish & Blotts on the third floor whilst hoping we wouldn't get caught, we’ve christened every broom closet in the castle, you've bought every conceivable toy from The Pleasure Chest, including that rack, and I've even worn the gimp mask! You've even given me a prostate massage while jerking me off, so don't tell me you get squicked with the thought of playing in that area. Short of swinging, anal sex is the last great frontier."

She looked at him balefully. She knew he was right, but she just didn't like to think about certain aspects of it. If he stuck it in there, she might never give him head again! Then again, with the things he'd done to her in the past, especially with the chocolate sauce, he had always thoroughly bathed himself afterward.

Looking at him through lowered lashes, she asked, "Will it hurt?"

In Severus' mind, he screamed, 'YESSSSS! Score!'

"I promise I'll be gentle with you. Unless you beg me not to," he purred.

"Oh, and the running commentary? Damp mounds of vanilla ice cream?"

"Was it any better than your 'thusly soiled' comment?"

"Hey, we're not scripted. We're doing this off-the-cuff."

He tore his leather pants off with the aid of his wand, releasing the more prominent of the two shafts of wood.

Severus, über spy extraordinaire, reached out for his defiled sex toy, "I'll shall bring you pleasure where he only brought you pain.”

Hermione looked at him with wide, innocent, eyes. The effect was quickly ruined, as her eyes soon glazed with lust when Severus began to stroke her satiny breasts.

“I shall steal the last of your virginity by taking you in the most secret of places that he would never dare to go," he huskily murmured into her hair, inhaling the scent of gardenia and old sex.

"Old sex?" Hermione asked.

"You want this or not?"

Hermione thought about it for a moment. He was making an effort, despite the corny, clichéd lines they were using.

"Oh Severus, delve into my brown rose. Make it bloom only for you," she cried lustily and with abandon.