What happens when there's only one shower and both need to take one? My reasons for doing a oneshot: But, still, I think it's pretty good. I do not own Harry Potter, J.
Rowling has that great honour, which means I make zero dollars from writing. But, I still get to create this sexy fic dedicated to sex, sex, and more sex. A lot of sex. Hot, passionate, heavy, sexy, erotic, fucking sex between a sexy blond guy and a gorgeous brunette. This means that there will be some nudity!
Rated M for nudity and possibly language…oh, and possibly…sex. Grow some balls, get some patience, and wait your turn! Already, she felt like falling to her knees and pray for forgiveness from the unseen, omnipotent and omniscient force that reigned over them. Her childish side liked to call Him Bob. Her feminist side called Her Bobette. Her mature, older, and intellectual side followed Spinoza and called Him God.
The Muggle nerd in her wanted to call 'It' The Force. It also wished that she had Jedi powers from time to time but … 'Seriously, Hermione, get a grip. In the end, however, she always wondered why such an amazing, benevolent thing would ever allow a slimy git like Malfoy to roam the planes of Earth. Today would be perfect, he has Quidditch, he'll be in the air, so it'll mean less work for you…' Of course, she had prayed like this on several occasions and never had her prayers been answered.
Hurry the fuck up! Stop getting your bloody knickers in a twist. Hurry the fuck up or I'm going to force my way in there! He had already proven that he could easily unlock her locking spells, which had caused her much duress at one point in time. She had been wrapped in only a small towel, putting some lotion on her legs, when he had come knocking and shouting, saying something about needing to take the biggest piss of his life.
At that point in time, which had been early on in their cohabitation, she had figured that he had lied to her. Not only had he quickly and efficiently unlocked the bathroom door, but he had not even waited for her to leave before he lifted the seat, unzipped his pants and began to urinate.
Of course, she should have guessed that, since he was a Malfoy, he would not be afraid of embarrassing himself in such a way. She figured that he had done it on purpose, using the opportunity to embarrass her to the point that she would ask to have the title of Head Girl revoked. That, obviously, had not worked, and he had since, seemingly, given up on attempting to embarrass the fuck out of her. Of course, that was only if she discounted Friday nights.
Pausing while she washed her face, she thought briefly how long they had been cohabiting for. It was close to late November, early December, so they had been living together for roughly two months now. That, she calculated, was a total of 12 Fridays, which means that, for at least twelve days in the past two to three months, she had been a victim.
Of the sounds of his guttural growls and the screaming moans of his sexual prey as he fucked their brains out in his room. With his bloody door magically and purposely left ajar. Wednesdays, however, had also been terrifying nights, where he had a tendency to bring back two girls at a time, pleasuring them both, making them squeal with erotic delight.
At some point in time, she had become mildly curious, wondering just how adept he really was in the bedroom. She had almost — note, almost — gotten the urge to sneak to his door and watch him in action, but the image of his naked body had instantly repulsed her and nearly caused her to vomit.
Of course, what was worse was that, on those particular nights, she never got a good night's sleep. This, obviously, aroused suspicion because every Thursday morning in Double Potions, she was seen glaring at Malfoy, while her face was pale and her hair a bushy mess.
Many had speculated that, every Wednesday, her and Malfoy engaged in hot, mad bunny sex, and when she had been asked by a Hufflepuff fourth year, she had taken off a good twenty points and cursed the girl out. She needed the damn ferret to be quiet; what she was about to do next required much skill and focus. The damn Permanent Hair Removal Charm had cost quite a bit of study time at the library.
It was no wonder; when she had, shyly, asked Lavender and Parvati, if they had such a charm to use on armpits and legs she had decidedly omitted the other body part she wanted completely hairless , they had stared at her in confusion, asking her where on Earth she had heard of such a charm. This prompted her to question whether they shaved or waxed, which, to her disgust, they responded with curious stares.
Of course, she had heard of girls using potions to remove the hair, similar to waxing, only that it was completely permanent for a month before the hair finally began to grow back. Waxing, she had found, only lasted a couple of weeks. So, she had scoured the library, trying to find one book that had contained the beautiful charm.
Now, since she had perfected it, having transfigured items into hairy objects and then practicing it on those objects, she was about to finally test it on a human subject. The shouting immediately stopped, and she sighed with relief, noting that, the way she had casted it, it would only last about five minutes.
More than enough time to complete the procedure. She began with her armpits, taking her time, waving her wand, feeling the soothing heat along her skin, knowing that it took about a minute or so for the magic to take effect.
While she waited, she began the process for her legs, thinking how sad it was that someone like her, someone who lacked body hair, was using this particular charm. Once she had finished her legs, she began on her crotch, blushing darkly with embarrassment at the thought of her wanting to be smooth and soft all over.
She wasn't really sure why or when she had decided to clear away her pubic hair, perhaps shortly after puberty, or maybe only within the past year or so, but, she felt almost naughty in the process. Maybe this was her way of rebelling against the stereotype she had set in place years ago when she had first joined Hogwarts. She had, after all, been the typical nerd, bushy hair, average facial features, underdeveloped body hidden by baggy clothes, and she had been as prude as fuck.
She had felt like a damn monk or nun, locked away, unable to think about anything sexual without being damned for the rest of her life. Her first kiss, however, had changed such thoughts. She thought briefly about her kiss with Viktor Krum while she waved the wand, muttering the incantation. The man had been several years older than her, 17 while she had only been 14, but she was not ashamed of their three year age difference.
His kiss, however, had not been what she had expected it to be. It had been too platonic, too strange, feeling his lips on hers. She had felt no fireworks that she had expected to feel, no rushing blood, and no sensation of need overwhelmed her body like it did for the women in the trashy romance novels that had become her weekly treat.
It had been boring. This, perhaps, was what had finally pushed her into accepting her sexuality. That, and perhaps her favourite sexy romance novel, where the heroine had a shaved crotch and her lover, some sexy, muscular man, had simply loved it. Ever since those two points in time, she had become fully aware of her sexuality and of what made her feel sexy. She did not remove the hair because a boy liked or wanted it; she removed it because it was one of the few things that made her feel like a real woman.
It made her feel sexy, but, at the same time, she was able to keep her modesty, and keep this secret all to herself. Those, at least, were her arguments as to why she managed to remain prude but feel sexy and shave.
Just as the silencing spell wore off, she felt a strange, warm pain ripple from the areas she had just run her wand over. Letting out a muffled cry, she fell forward, holding onto the shower stall walls for support as the burning sensation grew into a fiery, sharp pain that began to cloud her senses. Shit, the book had warned her that it might cause some discomfort, but she had no idea that it would be this painful.
Perhaps she was not supposed to do it all at once… Damn it; it felt like every hair in those areas were being yanked out at the same time, roots and all, while her skin was being burned at the same time. How dare you put that damn silencing charm on me! Hurry the fuck up, or I swear I will get my revenge! It should finish soon … the textbook said that it would be brief, only a few seconds or so … "Well, Granger," she could hear the smirk in his voice, "are you really showering in there or are you engaged in 'other' activities?
How dare he even assume that she would be masturbating in the shower? She had never, not once in her life, done such at thing. She wasn't necessarily sure why, but she just knew that it had not been her 'thing'. Too much shouting and panting and sweating … and girls could get aneurysms from their orgasms! It was far too risky. Through the fogged glass, she could just make out Malfoy's form, the shadow distorted because of the way the glass had been constructed.
I'm taking my damn shower. I'm supposed to be down at the pitch in twenty minutes, and I have no time to wait for you to finish your bloody shower. She listened at he turned on his water panel, the water pouring out at just about the same temperature as hers, and she cursed loudly.
She looked up to the ceiling, trying to think of anything other than the naked man standing behind her. She caught sight of the panel above her head and decided to remind herself of how the showers worked.
The student uses his wand to turn on the panel, deciding, while casting, what temperature they want the water to be and which panel to use. He also decides the force of the water, and, once the spell is cast, water comes pouring out of the holes automatically. Like those new rain showers Muggles have.
But…I don't think most Muggles share their showers with a certain blond-haired, slimy git. Why, on Earth, did she have to sound like a frightened mouse? Just to make sure! No, no, and no, I do NOT want to look at his naked body under the hot shower spray … I do not want to see his tight butt and hard abs … I do not … Oh, fuck it, and fuck my hormones…' She nearly let out a groan of annoyance at how easily her mind had become corrupted by such sexual thoughts.
Snap out of it! She had fought tooth and nail in order to achieve a sense of proper modesty, never touching herself, forcing her mind to stay away from all sexual thoughts and, as the Ancient Greeks would put it, focused on improving her intellect and purifying her soul.
She should be a bloody philosopher.