Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery

Chapter 86 ~ A Bit of the Old and the New

Severus drew a deep breath as he looked down at Hermione’s heated eyes, her need blazing up at him. He was through with teasing her. Sheathed inside her body the primal urge came upon him. He pulled out of the witch and she gasped in protest.

“No, Severus!” she cried out to him.

“Shhh!” he said, slipping his arms under her legs and lifting them, then positioning himself over her, holding his lean, pale torso up by his arms, his hands gripping her wrists and holding them down slightly above her head, her milky thighs spread wide open to him. Severus knew Hermione liked when he held her trapped under him like this. The witch gave a little whimper of need that cemented his knowledge and made his cock throb.

The Potions Master looked down at her pussy, her wetness oiling her inner thighs and pubic hair so they glistened. The scent of her wafted up to him, and he growled as he released one wrist just long enough to place his thick cock at her entrance. He could feel her juices coat his sensitive head.

“It’s good to be back on top of you, witch” he said, “and it’s better to be able to do this again…”

Severus plunged his cock deep into Hermione savagely, grunting loudly as he parted her tight sleeve and slammed against her cervix. The witch shrieked and buckled, her back arching reflexively as her husband reclaimed her. He held himself deep inside her, relishing the feel of her pussy pulsing around him. Panting, Hermione looked up at him, her eyes bright with ache and lust

“Go Severus,” she whispered up at him, “Fuck me, daddy.”

Daddy? She had never called him daddy before. Well, not during sex. But he was a father so the designation of ‘daddy’ fit. Yet it was a term he expected to hear from his sons one day, not Hermione. Oddly enough, being called daddy by his wife turned him on, greatly.

Staring down at her Severus pulled back and rammed into her again, watching her face contort as he hit bottom, her mouth dropping open, another cry escaping her lips. He began fucking Hermione in earnest, plunging his long shaft into her softness again and again, slapping against her thighs loudly and groaning as her pussy sucked and flexed around him, his black eyes locked to her beautiful face.

Hermione jerked under him, the power of his possession causing her body to bounce off the bed, throwing her back into his delicious stroke. Gods, he hurt, but the ache was so welcome, so needed, and so, so missed, his cock plowing through her with the strength of iron, yet the softness of silk, caressing her walls fully with his girth, reaching deep, deep inside her with his length. She wanted him like this, strong, passionate and merciless. Her husband, her lover, her demanding, lusty Potions Master.

Severus lifted his hips high, almost pulling his cock out of Hermione completely, then thrust himself back into her hot body, giving his wife every inch of him, pistoning into her rocking, buckling body as deep and hard as he could. The water they were covered with was soon replaced by perspiration. Rivulets ran down Severus’ flexing back, pooled and splashed on to Hermione as he threw himself into her wildly. He began to roll and shift his pelvis, stroking into the witch at deep, alternating angles, massaging and titillating every inch of her sweet, wet orifice with his hardness, causing her to cry out with even more passion.

“I missed fucking you like this, witch” he groaned, straining into her body and twisting his hips sharply.

It felt as if something snapped inside Hermione.

Suddenly the witch shuddered and gave a long, sustained shriek as a powerful orgasm pulsed through her, her body stiffening as her pussy clamped down on the Potions Master’s cock so tightly he gasped, her hot release rolling over him. Hermione’s toes curled and body went boneless as her voice rose and fell, whispering her lover’s name and other words Severus couldn’t understand as her pelvis undulated, rolling his cock inside her.

Caught up in being able to see the erotic sight of his wife climaxing face to face for the first time in months, the Potions Master stopped moving, feeling and watching the writhing witch ride out her pleasure, biting his lip as her gyrating motions stimulated him lusciously. As he watched her, his heart felt full and he took great pleasure in being capable of sending her to that place she loved to go. Hermione was so beautiful when on that special journey.

“I have more for you, love,” he whispered to the climaxing witch.

She half-opened her amber eyes and looked up at him. They were dilated and unfocused, the witch still lost to the pleasure washing over her body. She had needed released so badly. Severus lowered himself to kiss her, their tongues entwining.

Yes, he did have more, much more for the witch he loved.

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Rosmerta watched as Isadora exited the dining room. The witch didn’t look disheveled, so the innkeeper figured they hadn’t engaged in anything too racy while she had her meal. The witch walked upstairs, presumably to her room. After a few moments, Remus exited the dining room with dishes in tow. Rosmerta watched as the werewolf walked toward the kitchen. He paused, just for an instant and looked toward the stairs. Rosmerta thought he looked a bit dazed as he continued on to the kitchen.

His waiter duties done, Remus changed back into his work clothes and returned to the kitchen to do his normal duties. The inn didn’t close for another hour. He rolled up his sleeves and immersed his hands into the soapy water, beginning to wash the dishes. Rosmerta had given orders that the dishes be washed, not just scourgified. They seemed to get a better shine when done by hand.

As he scrubbed and rinsed the piles of plates, Remus’ thoughts turned to the witch waiting for him upstairs. Did he dare go? Did he want to take the chance that he could find pleasure with the witch and she would not send him away? He didn’t want to be rejected that way. It was one thing for a witch to turn him away if he approached her, but it was far worse to be embedded blissfully in a woman’s warm body, only to have her scream and beg for him to let her go. Having to see the fear and hurt in her eyes as she dressed or he dressed, and feel the frustration and longing coursing through his body yet again…and ending up having to find his own release.

He didn’t want that to happen with Isadora. He licked his lips. He could still taste her skin. Hell, he could still smell her. His mind went back to the scene of her with the muggle man…how strongly he was fucking her, and how she accepted it…even wanted it. He saw the man nude…he was very well-endowed, just as Remus was. At least his organ was back to normal. Remus was circumcised, but when the full moon approached, he began to grow a foreskin even before he transformed, making his cock larger and more sensitive as the urge to mate came upon him.

He remembered what happened with Ginny Weasley. She had never seen an uncircumcised cock before. He gave her a very close look at it for a few minutes, before she too begged him to let her go. He hadn’t wanted to hurt the witch and did his best to make her stay away from him. He wasn’t particularly attracted to Ginny. She was pretty enough, but young…just past the age of consent. She didn’t have the experience to be with him. But she caught up with him one evening two days before the full moon, when his nose was wide open for a willing female, and she offered herself to him again, telling him how she had wanted to be with him for so long.

Even as his human part was warning him off of her, his lusty animal nature came to the fore. To Remus’ credit, he did his best to tell the witch he wasn’t gentle…but she only said she didn’t want him to be. She quickly realized he did want her and wouldn’t leave him alone. So he took her back to his small flat and did his best to be gentle with her…it was fine until he brought her to his bed and slid inside her tight, willing body. Then he lost it, riding her so hard she screamed in agony and begged him to stop…it took all of his strength to do so.

Every part of him urged him to at least fuck her until he came but he pulled out of her and rolled off of her, trembling with need and yelling at her to leave. He had yelled because he didn’t trust himself to stay off her, and needed the witch to leave quickly. Her saw her at the Three Broomsticks afterwards and tried to apologize, but she fled from him. It took more than a year for the witch to speak to him again, probably realizing she had brought what happened on herself.

Now Isadora waited for him. But she was no Ginny. She knew what it was to be taken roughly. As much as Remus hated to admit this to himself, watching her being taken by the muggle had aroused him, even when it was abusive. Remus was a man after all, and men were visual creatures when it came to women. The sight of thighs and breasts were meant to arouse them, and the sight of a beautiful woman being fucked was physically arousing…no matter the circumstances under which it occurred. So even if the mind was horrified, the body reacted. The werewolf hated that the witch had been so mistreated, but he had gotten a good glimpse of what she was like during sex when she was both willing and without choice.

Remus realized he had been washing the same dish for about ten minutes and gingerly rinsed it, setting it in the drying rack. His eyes were dark as he picked up the next plate and plunged it into the water. There was less than half an hour left before closing.

He had to make a decision.

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Isadora sat on the edge of the bed in the suite she had rented. It was a rather pretty room, done in blue and silver, with oak walls, a small sitting area and a huge, firm bed. But Isadora hardly saw it as she struggled with the knots in her belly. Remus’ kisses had been so gentle, and his mouth soft and hot against her skin. And when he snuffled her…gods. It was strange, but still arousing. How much of his animal nature was involved with his sexuality? Would he engage in foreplay or would he just take her. Merlin, would he even show up?

And if he did show up, would he really be able to satisfy her? She had no idea what he was working with. It could have been the witch Hermione told her about was young and inexperienced. Hermione had said the woman was her friend after all, and attended Hogwarts. Isadora knew that age was not a true indication of one’s experience however. Then she remembered Hermione saying that the witch enjoyed sex very much. So something had to have happened for the witch to flee Remus.

Isadora stood up and started pacing. After several paces, she looked down at herself. She was barefoot but still fully dressed. Should she strip down to her bra and knickers? Should she strip down to nothing? Or should she remain fully dressed until she was sure the werewolf was coming?

There was a knock on the door.

Her heart pounding, Isadora looked at it as if there were a troll on the other side. This was it.

“Come in,” she said in a low voice.

A young witch bearing a tray that held a bottle of wine immersed in never-melting ice and two glasses walked into the room, smiling at Isadora.

“Rosmerta said to bring this up to you, Miss,” she said setting the tray on the nightstand.

Isadora thanked the witch, and she left. She looked at the wine…and wished it were firewhiskey. But any port…

The witch opened the bottle of wine and let it breathe for several moments before pouring herself a generous glass and drinking it down. She then poured another, and drank that down also. She put the glass down and turned, catching sight of herself in the mirror. She was still an attractive woman, but she could understand Remus hesitation. She didn’t look as strong as she was. But as the adage said, “Looks could be deceiving.”

Feeling a bit of a buzz from drinking two glasses of wine so quickly, and trying to quell her nervousness, Isadora began to spin in the mirror, looking her body over and striking what she thought might be alluring poses.

She was in a rather Marilyn Monroe-like pose, hands above her knees, ass jutted out, breasts pushed forward, her head turned slightly over her shoulder, a cascade of ebony hair partially hiding her face, pursing her lips at her reflection when she heard a soft, male voice ask,

“Isadora…what are you doing?”

She straightened rather guiltily, flushing red and turned to see Remus Lupin standing in front of the closed door, his head cocked, looking at her with an amused look on his face.

“Um…amusing myself?” she suggested.

Gods, he was here.

“I see,” he replied, sobering and falling silent as he looked at the witch.

Isadora was silent too. Witch and wizard stared at each other, their eyes locked. There was still uncertainty in the werewolf’s eyes, and he stood by the door as if he might turn and run. He wore a rather dingy white shirt and well-worn brown pants. His boots were clean, but scuffed. Yet his clothing fit him well. He was tall and lean. He could use another twenty or thirty pounds on him to beef him up but right now he looked just fine to Isadora. She could feel the heat coming off his body, and he could scent her excitement. The werewolf quivered.

“Isadora, are you sure about this?” he asked her softly.

Isadora looked into those gentle, uncertain eyes and her dreams about this wizard came back to her in full force, causing a flame to ignite inside her. Remus started, feeling the powerful rush of longing pouring off the witch.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Remus only hesitated a moment before crossing the room to her, taking the witch in his arms and kissing her hungrily but tenderly, holding his body away from hers, his large hands sliding over the curves of her waist and hips. Isadora began to tremble with need and returned his hunger as Remus again whined, and pulled her against him, pressing his erection against her gently as he continued to explore and taste her mouth. Gods the witch tasted so good.

Isadora gasped into his mouth as she felt the size of his organ pressing against her pelvis. The werewolf was enormous and throbbing against her. She felt a gush of liquid flow out of her, and Remus stiffened for a moment, pulling away from her mouth, his eyes nearly glowing, the pupils oddly dilated as he looked at her.

Suddenly the werewolf dropped, wrapped his arms around her ass, pressed his face between her thighs through her dress and snuffled deeply several times. He let out a ragged, decidedly animal sound, before he rose again and bent her slightly back, pressing himself against her while attacking her throat with his tongue, lips and teeth, snuffling her as he did so, then with his teeth dragging first one dress strap down over her pale shoulder, then the other. He then did the same to her bra straps, kissing and licking her shoulders…mostly licking. With his hands he drew both sides of the dress down until he had almost revealed the witch’s full breasts, but stopped, the fabric tantalizingly low showing the swell of her cleavage. He turned her in his arms so her back was against him, and gently snuffled her long, ebony hair, burying his face in it before moving it from her neck and latching on to her throat, pressing his hips against her ass, his hands rubbing her belly as he licked and kissed her throat, then moving up slowly, hesitatingly under they touched the underside of her breasts.

Isadora’s eyes were half-lidded as the werewolf’s mouth and hands moved over her. Darius had never taken this much time with her…a few kisses, a few gropes and he was on her. He wasn’t a patient lover in the beginning, and when he changed he didn’t even give her that. Isadora had thought perhaps Remus would be the same, but it was obvious the werewolf was not as his lips moved over her back. His hands went to her breasts, caressing them tenderly through the fabric. He didn’t grope and squeeze, but his touch through her dress was driving her wild to feel his hands on her naked skin.

“Remus,” she gasped. The werewolf grunted at her as his mouth returned to her throat.

“Undress me,” she purred, catching his hands on her breasts and dragging them down, pulling the dress and bra with them so her breasts were exposed, then returning his hands to them. His mouth was near her ear when she placed his hands on her naked breasts, and he let out a snarl that startled her. He felt her jump and pulled back from her neck.

“I’m sorry I startled you, Isadora…but…this is how I am. Do you still want…” he began.

Isadora turned in his arms facing him again. Remus’ face contorted as he looked at her beautiful pale breasts, and another snarling whine emitted from him, as his eyes rose to her face. There was a pleading look in them now.

“I want to very much, Remus,” she whispered.

Remus moved to her mouth again, one roughened hand finding her breast and squeezing it gently. Isadora groaned into his mouth as her nipples peaked. Remus moved from her mouth to her throat, placing both arms around her waist and bending her back slightly, rubbing his cock against her sensually, but not demandingly as he moved his mouth over the swell of her breast and found her taut nipple, sucking it between his lips and teasing it with his teeth and tongue before suckling. Isadora moaned his name and he grasped her other breast, stimulating the witch with his mouth and hand, then switching, listening to her voice breaking with pleasure.

Isadora had said it was seventeen years since a wizard touched her. Remus intended to touch her all over before taking her. That way, if she did run…he would have some intimate memory of the witch to sustain him, help him deal with her rejection.

Gods, she was so responsive, trembling like a virgin as he tasted her skin. He began to pull her dress down over her waist, but was held up by their grinding hips. He straightened the witch and dropped down again sliding his hands over her skin, catching the fabric under them and drawing the dress down over her hips, snagging her knickers in the process, and finding himself face to face with the dark triangular shape of her sex. His nostrils flared, and he hurriedly pulled her dress to the floor, and felt her hand caress his head as he knelt before her. He rolled his head against her palm like an overgrown puppy before his eyes locked to her bush again.

As Isadora stepped out of her dress, Remus pressed his nose to her sex and snuffled again, this time groaning. He looked up at the witch, his eyes glazed with desire.

“Can I taste you, Isadora?” he asked hoarsely, his hands rubbing her thighs slowly, reverently.

Isadora looked down at him.

Darius used to do that to her for a few moments before he fucked her. It felt nice but he had never tried to bring her to orgasm that way. That’s what a cock was for. But Remus had no such ideas. To the werewolf a tongue was more than a tool used to push food around, and since he had canine instincts, he derived intense pleasure from taste and smell. If Isadora agreed to let him have at her with his tongue, then he was going to indulge himself fully, not letting up until the witch was completely incoherent and shuddering against his mouth.

“If you want to, Remus,” she replied softly, her black eyes shimmering. He was so good. She felt as if she were going to explode from just his kisses and touch. She was close to orgasm as it was.

“I want to very much,” he said standing and leading her to the bed.

He helped her in, making sure she was comfortably resting against the pillows. He looked down on the witch’s slender, nude body. Her nipples were tight and dark against her pale skin, her belly flat, her thighs smooth and her legs long. He could smell her arousal clearly and his cock strained against his trousers. He toed off his boots and socks, then climbed into the bed fully dressed, leaned over her and kissed her again, his tongue penetrating her mouth and reveling in her heat. It seemed soon he would be buried in that same heat…but first.

Leaning over her and approaching from the side, Remus slid his mouth down her body, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so, stopping his journey to pleasure her breasts for a few moments before moving downward, over her belly, tonguing her navel before pressing his lips into her pubic hair, and pulling at the silken strands. He sat up and removed his shirt before he moved low on the bed and opened her thighs, looking down at her sex. He raised his head and gazed up at Isadora. Her black eyes were half-lidded as she stared back at him, her breasts rising and falling with emotion. Remus looked back down and placed his hand on her heat, and Isadora buckled reflexively at his touch. He was going to have to hold her down securely.

The werewolf gently parted the witch’s labia, whining again as she flexed. Her inner flesh was dark and glistening, almost the color of plum.

He was sure she would taste just as sweet.

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A/N: Whew…working it…working it. Squeezing those lemon slowly ya’ll. Please review.

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The Burning Pen

Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately. You are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 87

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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