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lightofdayeTitle: Coming And Going
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count:~1,800
Warnings: PWP, Both kinds of oral sex.
Summary: Relationships can develop all kinds of strange traditions.
A/n: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
torino10154’s “Blowjob Friday” Event. I couldn’t decide whether to go for blowjobs or pussy-eating. So you got both. Endless thanks to tamlane for her beta-work and for encouraging me to take part in the first place.
Hermione’s hands worked eagerly at Ron’s belt buckle, yanking it half out of his jeans before tackling the buttons of his flies. Ron staggered back until he collided with the wall, bracing himself against it as Hermione pulled his clothes to his ankles and he kicked them away.
“Shirt,” she said breathlessly.
Obediently, Ron pulled his white t-shirt over his head and threw it on top of his jeans, revealing all his long lanky body to her. Even after all this time he felt a wave of self-consciousness about it until he saw the hungry glint to her eyes. That look could give him a hard-on, let alone the touch of her hands against him. Ron groaned as her grip trailed up the inside of his legs before grasping his cock firmly. Hermione murmured happily as she stroked him, eyes fixed on the skin moving over his head even as his dick became completely hard. His cock strained unbearably with the tension as drops of pre-come beaded on its tip.
“Hermione,” Ron begged at the same instant she took pity on him, wrapping her lips around his cock and sucking. Ron’s hip surged forward; slipping a bit more of himself between them, but Hermione’s hands caught his hips and pressed him against the wall. Her eyebrows creased at him slightly by way of reproach; with her lips splayed around his shaft like that, it was hard to feel guilty though.
Ron looked down, his gaze transfixed on her, unable to look away as her head bobbed on his cock and each downward motion engulfed just a bit more of him into her mouth, her tongue slathering wetness on its underside. But her lips remained compressed tightly to his shaft, and though his cock was slick and shiny, not a drop of moisture escaped them.
By the time she had most of him swallowed, though, her bushy hair had broken loose of the hair bands she had attempted to restrain it with and spread voluminously in every direction, spoiling Ron’s view. Automatically his hands fell to her head, combing his fingers through her hair. The more he pushed away, the more seemed to slip away from him until both his hands were hopelessly tangled in her hair, being carried along with the motion of her head. He could just see her expression; her eyes were closed, her face set in concentration, and the sight was strangely even more of a turn on. Ron’s balls started to tighten and he let out a strangled groan as he tried to resist it. He took in a ragged breath to try and warn her when…
Hermione’s mouth popped free of his cock, and Ron had just a split-second to gain control of himself before her hand wrapped around it, pushing it upwards to point at the ceiling.
“There’s something I’ve wanted to try,” she said, only slightly hoarse. Her eyes were open again and fixed intently below his shaft.
Her head swooped down again, and her tongue reached out to lap at his bollocks. Ron squeaked in surprise as it softly swirled over each ball in turn. He shifted himself, edging his legs further apart to give her room to work. His head fell back; gazing at the ceiling as he tried desperately to control his breathing and control himself. Her tongue worked him over steadily and with each swipe he felt his shaft shiver and more pre-come leak out of him.
Suddenly she wrapped her mouth around a ball and tugged on it hard, pulling it down before releasing it. The jolt of sensation shooting through Ron’s groin, his body jerked out his control. His head snapped down just in time to see her repeat the manoeuvre with the other ball.
“Merlin, woman,” Ron growled, his loose grip tightening to pull her back up to his shaft, “That was… I mean.” He didn’t know what he meant, but he knew he was desperate to just fuck her face right now.
Hermione eagerly wrapped her mouth around his shaft once more, head descending as far as it had before. Ron’s grip on her hair had turned white, and he found himself moving into her dives. Despite her hands on his hips, they pushed towards her, driving him deeper into her mouth. He’d tried to be good, but he was no saint after all; he held himself back a bit, only giving her an inch more than she wanted. Maybe two.
“Gughmf!” Hermione went around his cock as he thrust forward, the seal of her lips broken and a small dribble of spit rolling down Ron’s shaft, the sensation breaking their control entirely. His hips pushed forward, Hermione’s hands hugging his legs, pulling him until her head was buried between them as Ron’s come poured down her throat.
Weak-kneed, Ron let her go and clutched at the wall to support himself, and Hermione withdrew and looked away while she wiped her mouth on a handkerchief.
“So,” Ron said, sometime later when he’d managed to get his breath back, “how long are you going for?”
“How do you know I’m going away?” Hermione said in what Ron thought was an attempt at her affronted voice. “Maybe I just like sucking your cock?”
And she did as well, Ron thought, with a thrill of pride.
“Yeah, but not so much it’s the first thing you want to do when getting home late after working overtime,” he replied.
“Maybe…” she started hotly.
“Hermione,” Ron said firmly.
“Two weeks, maybe three,” Hermione said in a small voice.
Ron’s heart sank.
“Really?” he said.
She nodded.
“Oh well,” he said heavily, “you know what’s waiting when you get back.”
~Four Weeks Later~
Hermione ached with fatigue. Her body felt leaden and unresponsive; it had been all she could do to make her way home, as weary and floo-lagged as she was. In fact, the only thing she felt up to was lying back, relaxing, and enjoying Ron making a fuss over her.
She sat in her favorite worn armchair. With a half-drunk mug of proper British tea (they never got it right on the continent) on a side table next to her. Her legs were spread, and her boyfriend was kneeling between them.
He’d certainly been pleased to see her. She’d barely had time to start drinking her tea before he was showering kisses all over her, starting on her lips and working his way down. Still, from what little bit of girl talk she’d had with her friends, she shouldn’t complain. Apparently a boyfriend could never be too eager to eat you out. The sweetness of his mouth on hers and on her cleavage and bared breasts had been irresistible, robbing her of her strength until she found herself guided back to her chair and his mouth went lower and lower.
She whimpered softly as he planted kisses across the inside of her legs, working his way up and down them. Her increasingly wet knickers were ignored entirely until she practically wailed:
“Please Ron!”
“Yes?” he said.
“Take them off.”
“Oh well, if you insist,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious that’s what he wanted to do. As if that wasn’t always what he wanted to do. The touch of his hands was warm and firm, full of unconsciously restrained strength. His broad hands slid up her legs, and he tucked his fingertips under the waistline of her underwear and peeled them down; reluctantly they came free of her.
Hermione felt a slight tinge of colour come to her cheeks as Ron gazed down at her. Her trip had left little time for niceties, and her mound was thickly covered with dark curls. But she realised after a moment that the expression on Ron’s face was one of awe, and then he started to work on her. He moved close to her, draping her legs over his broad shoulders.
His tongue lapped at her, the soft tip of it tracing the lips of her labia, toying with them, parting them so as to delve deeper. Hermione flushed and bit her lip as the thrill of it shot through her belly. Sinking deeper into the chair, she looked down; all she could see of Ron was his red hair and his blue eyes, looking eagerly up at her, as if begging for approval.
Shakily, her hands moved to his head, her fingers combing their way through his fiery locks. Even as they slipped easily through his smooth hair without finding purchase, his tongue probed deeper inside her. He licked softly at the sensitive flesh within, searching out her sweetest spots. He found them, and Hermione’s hips jerked as he did so.
“Oh God! There, Ron, right there!” she cried out.
His tongue moved back and licked insistently a bit to the side of where she wanted. She squirmed, helplessly, desperate to feel the friction right where she liked it.
“No not there, a little… you’re…” she gasped, trying to direct him, but then she saw the twinkle in his eyes. She knew the small smile that would be on his face if she could see it all. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this; he knew full well where to touch her. “You’re teasing me?!”
He winked at her. His tongue hardened and pushed her right there, again and again. Hermione wailed and her legs reflexively closed around his head, squeezing tightly. Ron’s hands moved to the back of her legs just above her knees and hoisted. She could see the muscles in his arms working as he spread her legs apart. His grip shifted, and his strong ginger haired forearms pressed against her thighs, moving her legs so they were draped one over each armrest.
She was completely helpless, spread wide open for him, and had never been happier about it. His mouth was buried in her pussy, her brown curls teasing his chin and nose as he went at her with wild abandon. One hand moved to her hip to hold her as a couple of fingers from the other slipped easily inside her, and then his tongue lashing at her clit was all she needed.
Her body shook. Her position didn’t allow her to move much but her hips contrived to hump against his face anyway as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her until she was spent and limp and energyless.
They curled up together in the armchair as she recovered and drank her –now considerably cooler- tea. She thought about the game they played. She sucked him off because she was sorry to leave him and he…
“You know,” she said, thoughtfully, “I’d come back to you anyway, even if I didn’t get this greeting.”
“I do know,” Ron said, and he planted a kiss on her neck, “but why take the risk?”
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Word Count:~1,800
Warnings: PWP, Both kinds of oral sex.
Summary: Relationships can develop all kinds of strange traditions.
A/n: For
torino10154’s “Blowjob Friday” Event. I couldn’t decide whether to go for blowjobs or pussy-eating. So you got both. Endless thanks to tamlane for her beta-work and for encouraging me to take part in the first place.Hermione’s hands worked eagerly at Ron’s belt buckle, yanking it half out of his jeans before tackling the buttons of his flies. Ron staggered back until he collided with the wall, bracing himself against it as Hermione pulled his clothes to his ankles and he kicked them away.
“Shirt,” she said breathlessly.
Obediently, Ron pulled his white t-shirt over his head and threw it on top of his jeans, revealing all his long lanky body to her. Even after all this time he felt a wave of self-consciousness about it until he saw the hungry glint to her eyes. That look could give him a hard-on, let alone the touch of her hands against him. Ron groaned as her grip trailed up the inside of his legs before grasping his cock firmly. Hermione murmured happily as she stroked him, eyes fixed on the skin moving over his head even as his dick became completely hard. His cock strained unbearably with the tension as drops of pre-come beaded on its tip.
“Hermione,” Ron begged at the same instant she took pity on him, wrapping her lips around his cock and sucking. Ron’s hip surged forward; slipping a bit more of himself between them, but Hermione’s hands caught his hips and pressed him against the wall. Her eyebrows creased at him slightly by way of reproach; with her lips splayed around his shaft like that, it was hard to feel guilty though.
Ron looked down, his gaze transfixed on her, unable to look away as her head bobbed on his cock and each downward motion engulfed just a bit more of him into her mouth, her tongue slathering wetness on its underside. But her lips remained compressed tightly to his shaft, and though his cock was slick and shiny, not a drop of moisture escaped them.
By the time she had most of him swallowed, though, her bushy hair had broken loose of the hair bands she had attempted to restrain it with and spread voluminously in every direction, spoiling Ron’s view. Automatically his hands fell to her head, combing his fingers through her hair. The more he pushed away, the more seemed to slip away from him until both his hands were hopelessly tangled in her hair, being carried along with the motion of her head. He could just see her expression; her eyes were closed, her face set in concentration, and the sight was strangely even more of a turn on. Ron’s balls started to tighten and he let out a strangled groan as he tried to resist it. He took in a ragged breath to try and warn her when…
Hermione’s mouth popped free of his cock, and Ron had just a split-second to gain control of himself before her hand wrapped around it, pushing it upwards to point at the ceiling.
“There’s something I’ve wanted to try,” she said, only slightly hoarse. Her eyes were open again and fixed intently below his shaft.
Her head swooped down again, and her tongue reached out to lap at his bollocks. Ron squeaked in surprise as it softly swirled over each ball in turn. He shifted himself, edging his legs further apart to give her room to work. His head fell back; gazing at the ceiling as he tried desperately to control his breathing and control himself. Her tongue worked him over steadily and with each swipe he felt his shaft shiver and more pre-come leak out of him.
Suddenly she wrapped her mouth around a ball and tugged on it hard, pulling it down before releasing it. The jolt of sensation shooting through Ron’s groin, his body jerked out his control. His head snapped down just in time to see her repeat the manoeuvre with the other ball.
“Merlin, woman,” Ron growled, his loose grip tightening to pull her back up to his shaft, “That was… I mean.” He didn’t know what he meant, but he knew he was desperate to just fuck her face right now.
Hermione eagerly wrapped her mouth around his shaft once more, head descending as far as it had before. Ron’s grip on her hair had turned white, and he found himself moving into her dives. Despite her hands on his hips, they pushed towards her, driving him deeper into her mouth. He’d tried to be good, but he was no saint after all; he held himself back a bit, only giving her an inch more than she wanted. Maybe two.
“Gughmf!” Hermione went around his cock as he thrust forward, the seal of her lips broken and a small dribble of spit rolling down Ron’s shaft, the sensation breaking their control entirely. His hips pushed forward, Hermione’s hands hugging his legs, pulling him until her head was buried between them as Ron’s come poured down her throat.
Weak-kneed, Ron let her go and clutched at the wall to support himself, and Hermione withdrew and looked away while she wiped her mouth on a handkerchief.
“So,” Ron said, sometime later when he’d managed to get his breath back, “how long are you going for?”
“How do you know I’m going away?” Hermione said in what Ron thought was an attempt at her affronted voice. “Maybe I just like sucking your cock?”
And she did as well, Ron thought, with a thrill of pride.
“Yeah, but not so much it’s the first thing you want to do when getting home late after working overtime,” he replied.
“Maybe…” she started hotly.
“Hermione,” Ron said firmly.
“Two weeks, maybe three,” Hermione said in a small voice.
Ron’s heart sank.
“Really?” he said.
She nodded.
“Oh well,” he said heavily, “you know what’s waiting when you get back.”
~Four Weeks Later~
Hermione ached with fatigue. Her body felt leaden and unresponsive; it had been all she could do to make her way home, as weary and floo-lagged as she was. In fact, the only thing she felt up to was lying back, relaxing, and enjoying Ron making a fuss over her.
She sat in her favorite worn armchair. With a half-drunk mug of proper British tea (they never got it right on the continent) on a side table next to her. Her legs were spread, and her boyfriend was kneeling between them.
He’d certainly been pleased to see her. She’d barely had time to start drinking her tea before he was showering kisses all over her, starting on her lips and working his way down. Still, from what little bit of girl talk she’d had with her friends, she shouldn’t complain. Apparently a boyfriend could never be too eager to eat you out. The sweetness of his mouth on hers and on her cleavage and bared breasts had been irresistible, robbing her of her strength until she found herself guided back to her chair and his mouth went lower and lower.
She whimpered softly as he planted kisses across the inside of her legs, working his way up and down them. Her increasingly wet knickers were ignored entirely until she practically wailed:
“Please Ron!”
“Yes?” he said.
“Take them off.”
“Oh well, if you insist,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious that’s what he wanted to do. As if that wasn’t always what he wanted to do. The touch of his hands was warm and firm, full of unconsciously restrained strength. His broad hands slid up her legs, and he tucked his fingertips under the waistline of her underwear and peeled them down; reluctantly they came free of her.
Hermione felt a slight tinge of colour come to her cheeks as Ron gazed down at her. Her trip had left little time for niceties, and her mound was thickly covered with dark curls. But she realised after a moment that the expression on Ron’s face was one of awe, and then he started to work on her. He moved close to her, draping her legs over his broad shoulders.
His tongue lapped at her, the soft tip of it tracing the lips of her labia, toying with them, parting them so as to delve deeper. Hermione flushed and bit her lip as the thrill of it shot through her belly. Sinking deeper into the chair, she looked down; all she could see of Ron was his red hair and his blue eyes, looking eagerly up at her, as if begging for approval.
Shakily, her hands moved to his head, her fingers combing their way through his fiery locks. Even as they slipped easily through his smooth hair without finding purchase, his tongue probed deeper inside her. He licked softly at the sensitive flesh within, searching out her sweetest spots. He found them, and Hermione’s hips jerked as he did so.
“Oh God! There, Ron, right there!” she cried out.
His tongue moved back and licked insistently a bit to the side of where she wanted. She squirmed, helplessly, desperate to feel the friction right where she liked it.
“No not there, a little… you’re…” she gasped, trying to direct him, but then she saw the twinkle in his eyes. She knew the small smile that would be on his face if she could see it all. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this; he knew full well where to touch her. “You’re teasing me?!”
He winked at her. His tongue hardened and pushed her right there, again and again. Hermione wailed and her legs reflexively closed around his head, squeezing tightly. Ron’s hands moved to the back of her legs just above her knees and hoisted. She could see the muscles in his arms working as he spread her legs apart. His grip shifted, and his strong ginger haired forearms pressed against her thighs, moving her legs so they were draped one over each armrest.
She was completely helpless, spread wide open for him, and had never been happier about it. His mouth was buried in her pussy, her brown curls teasing his chin and nose as he went at her with wild abandon. One hand moved to her hip to hold her as a couple of fingers from the other slipped easily inside her, and then his tongue lashing at her clit was all she needed.
Her body shook. Her position didn’t allow her to move much but her hips contrived to hump against his face anyway as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her until she was spent and limp and energyless.
They curled up together in the armchair as she recovered and drank her –now considerably cooler- tea. She thought about the game they played. She sucked him off because she was sorry to leave him and he…
“You know,” she said, thoughtfully, “I’d come back to you anyway, even if I didn’t get this greeting.”
“I do know,” Ron said, and he planted a kiss on her neck, “but why take the risk?”
