Rating:
R
House:
The Dark Arts
Ships:
Original Female Muggle/Original Male Muggle Original Female Muggle/Severus Snape
Characters:
Original Female Muggle Original Male Muggle Severus Snape
Genres:
Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Stats:
Published: 02/16/2005
Updated: 02/16/2005
Words: 1,350
Chapters: 1
Hits: 311

Watching Wendy

Lowlands Girl

Story Summary:
Outtake from

Posted:
02/16/2005
Hits:
311
Author's Note:
Thank you to QuickQuotesQuill for the beta, and thanks to Cedar for the rating check.

Luke could not believe he was doing this.

Wendy's fire was roaring, the room hot enough so that she had removed the heavy bathrobe she usually wore against the cold castle. Her slippers were off, too, tossed to one side of the bed.

A moment earlier, Wendy had snapped her book shut, muttered, "Why not," and crawled under the covers. "Lights out!" she then called, plunging the room into darkness.

Because the moon was full, Luke could see her again after a moment. She was writhing underneath the covers; they were tented in a way that made it obvious her knees were bent up. One arm was thrown over her head, the other hidden underneath.

She remained this way for about twenty seconds, then let out a growl of frustration and kicked off the covers. She sat up and irritably removed her nightgown, tossing it onto the floor in a messy heap.

She was naked in the moonlight now. The removal of the gown calmed her; for a while she sat cross-legged on the bed, looking down at her own body. Her skin had taken on a silver sheen from the light.

Wendy reached up with her left hand to cup her right breast, hefting it gently. Her right hand caressed first her stomach, then twined its fingers in her pubic hair, and then sent one exploratory finger between her legs.

She sighed with a hum of pleasure and pinched a nipple.

It was the most erotic thing Luke had ever seen. He'd thought they were pretty communicative about sex, but she'd never asked him to pinch her nipples. He had always been a gentle and considerate lover; now he wondered if he'd been too gentle. Nice thing to realize, after you're dead.

Her eyes were closed, her head titled to the right. She squeezed her right breast, then shifted her hand to the left breast and began teasing that nipple into erection. Wendy's sighing hum of pleasure this time went up and down, like an affirmative moan.

Luke thought that if he'd had manuscript paper and a pencil, he could have written a song to that moan.

Wendy's mouth parted slightly, and her hips tilted forward a bit to give her hand more access.

Luke groaned. If he'd had a body, he would have had the biggest hard-on in his life. As it was, his mind was aroused in the same way.

Then Wendy lay back down, arranging her hair up above her head on the pillow so that tendrils wouldn't stick to her neck, which was a little shiny -- either the room had to be very hot, or else she'd already worked up a sweat.

She switched hands so that her left fingers now played with the clitoris and her right hand carressed breasts, stomach, thighs. She opened her mouth as though to allow entry of a tongue or other object, then let out another sigh of pleasure and closed her mouth. "Mmmm.... mmm, oh yes," she whispered.

What was she seeing, inside her head? Was she envisioning him straddling her hips, penis about to penetrate, mouth passionately locked against hers? Perhaps she was dreaming about a sixty-nine position, remembering the taste of Luke in her mouth.

Or was she just dreaming of sex, plain vanilla sex in the missionary position, tummies scrunched together, trying to melt into each other?

"Mmm, oh yes," she breathed. "Oh, yes, like that." Her hand moved rapidly in and out, fingers tapping, pressing, squeezing.

Suddenly she stopped, jacked herself up off the bed, and stomped over to the bathroom, where she snatched a towel from the endless stack on the stool just inside. A shower at this hour?

She wasn't showering, though: she took the towel back to the bed with her.

Luke watched, fascinated, as she arranged herself on the bed with the towel jammed between her legs. Was this how most women did it?

Wendy began to hump against the towel, making mewling, whimpering noises and gasping, "Oh, yes, oh yes, please," at random intervals. She paused every few minutes to readjust the towel; she'd reach down with her legs spread and scrunch it up against her pelvis, using her fingers to spread things even wider.

Her humping motions alternated between small circles and large up-and-down movements with the hips. Her breasts bobbled up and down, the nipples hardened pieces of flesh. She was evidently bringing herself up to the cliff edge of orgasm and letting herself back down slowly, torturing and teasing herself to elongate the pleasure and heighten the ultimate climax.

Wendy reached her hands up to grab at the bottom of the headboard -- the bed frame was made in such a way that there was room for a pair of small hands to reach into the gap between headboard and mattress. He'd seen her do this before during sex. It had been one of her favorite aspects of the new Hogwarts bed when she'd first arrived.

But then her whimperings shocked him.

"No, no, please, don't," she whispered to the dark room. "No, please, please..." And yet her hips ground more and more wildly against the towel. "No, don't, please don't!"

Whatever Luke was doing in her fantasy, she was pleading for him not to do it, but was enjoying it. They'd never had that kind of relationship. "No" meant "no," not that he'd ever done anything she wouldn't like.

With her eyes closed, her hair thrown out across the pillow, and the moonlight making a silver stirpe across her body, she looked like an angel of sex. The towel was a bit disconcerting, but Luke didn't look at it; he watched her face, where she was biting her tongue and shaking her head.

He'd give anything to see into her head right now. What did women dream of when they masturbated? They'd never talked about it.

She was nearing orgasm now, he could tell. She'd crossed her legs over the towel and was squirming against it.

Her mantra changed. "Oh, yes," she whispered into the darkness. "Oh, yes, that's good, oh, yes, please, fuck me, oh, fuck me, yes, I want it hard, I want it hard--"

Luke hadn't known she liked using those words.

"--so hard, yeah, drive it into me, please, oh, yes, ohgodyes... Oh, Severus--"

Time stopped. His brain froze; his consciousness buzzed.

Oh, Severus.

Not Oh, Luke.

She kept on going: "Yes, please, oh, I want you so much, just like that -- don't tease me, please, please, oh, God, oh, yes that's good -- oh, God, oh God, oh yes..."

The chanting stopped, but Wendy kept moving against the towel, bucking up and down, the muscles all up and down her body flexing and releasing with the build of tension in preparation for her orgasm. Luke felt trapped; he couldn't leave now, not when she was so close. He wanted to watch her come, wanted to hear her cries of ecstasy, the same cries that he'd induced the very night before his kidnapping.

But it was all wrong, because she'd whispered the wrong name.

The creature on the bed couldn't be Wendy, and yet it was. He was abruptly distanced from her, like seeing one of those optical illusions where the cube first is pointing towards you, then is suddenly pointing the other way. She wanted to be another man's lover; already had been, as far as he could tell.

Luke closed his eyes -- well, he had no eyes, but whatever he did effectively prevented him from seeing her.

She began chanting again. "Yes, oh, yes, oh god please oh yes, oh oh oh ohhh..."

It stopped. Luke opened his eyes to see that she wasn't done yet. Instead of coherent whimperings, she was now grunting as though struggling delightedly against a strong man who was pinning her down and fucking her relentlessly. She gripped the headboard and bore down on her towel, pressing violently against it.

Then she came, with a hiss: "Ohhh... Severusss..." She was so beautiful.

Luke tried to cry, but of course he couldn't.