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30 July 2005 @ 08:52 pm
Fic: "Educating Draco" (1/2)  
*Author*: Padfoot the Marauder

*Rating*: NC-17

*Pairing*: Draco/Hermione

*Summary*: After accidentally hearing Hermione getting herself off in the shower, Draco realises that he isn’t the only one pretending to be something he isn’t.

*Disclaimer*: None of these characters are mine, I’m just borrowing them.

*A/N*: A big thank you to my Betas Natalie and Krista. *Smothers them with hugs and kisses*

***************


CHAPTER 1


Draco casually ran his fingers through his hair and got out of bed to make one last visit to the loo before going to sleep. The coolness of the night air brushing against his naked, post-orgasmic body felt both soothing and quickening at the same time. When he passed his cloak, which hung over the foot of his bed, he pulled his wand out of its pocket and cast a quick cleaning-charm on himself, ridding his body of the remnants from his late-night wank.

When Draco entered his bathroom, he was met with the loud noise of water cascading against the floor, which indicated that Granger was taking a late-night shower. The Head Students’ rooms each had an air-vent that allowed the dampness of the bathroom to evaporate. These two vents ending up in the same tube made it so that the occupants of each bathroom could clearly hear what was going on in the adjoining one. Draco rolled his eyes at how predictable the Head Girl could be, always busy studying and therefore having to do her ablutions in the middle of the night. With a stifled yawn, Draco raised the lid of his toilet and went about his business. He found it quite odd that wanking in the evenings always made him tired, while doing so in the mornings made him feel refreshed. Whatever the case, whoever invented wanking was a bloody genius.

When Draco had successfully emptied his bladder and was about to exit the bathroom, he suddenly heard something that made him halt in his tracks. A soft, seemingly insignificant noise, but for the fact that in that moment it greatly changed Draco’s perception on life.

He had heard a moan.

Normally Draco wouldn’t pause to think about the meaning of a moan. People moaned all the time, when someone takes off their Quidditch gear after having strained their muscles in a particularly brutal match, when someone sits down at the breakfast table after a restless night and is tiresome, when someone is sick or is in pain,... But this moan was different. Draco recognised this kind of moan, because it was the kind he himself had emitted quite a lot of times in the privacy of his own bedroom: the kind when he would get himself off.

As if on autopilot, Draco lowered the lid on his toilet seat and stepped up on it so he could lean closer to the air vent. He narrowed his eyes, straining for a sign that he hadn’t just imagined hearing Granger moan, until he heard a distinctive, strangled, needy, whimper underneath the sounds of cascading water.

Draco stared at the wall in disbelief as his entire perception of life and sexuality came crashing down upon him.

Granger was getting herself off in the shower.

Draco had never even been fully certain girls actually did that. When you’d ask a guy if he wanked, he’d most commonly give you a casual affirmative, but if you asked a girl she’d always answer with a firm and insulted ‘NO!’.

Draco had almost assumed that female masturbation was a myth. Apparently it wasn’t.

Draco felt as if he had been walking up the stairs to his bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is this sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things. Somehow, Draco had formed the idea that Girls never really needed sex as much as guys did. Himself being male, he knew why men wanted sex, they were plainly horny all the time. But Girls... they just never seemed to be very bothered by their hormones. In short, it had been like this: Girls, with their curvy hips, breasts and alluring movements, were there to lure the men and ensure that the species would procreate. Draco had thought that when Girls had sex, they mostly did it with ulterior motives; to see what it was like, to be able to say they had done it, to get a guy to stay with them, to blend in with their peers... but never solely to satisfy their carnal needs.

Draco suddenly heard a gasp, a moan slightly louder than the one before and the sound of slick, wet flesh on flesh; making him assume that Granger had just reached her orgasm.

Draco couldn’t believe that he had just heard Hermione Granger, the stuffy Gryffindor bookworm, getting herself off in the next room. And he also couldn’t believe that the first thought in his mind was that he was disappointed for not having been able to see it. Or perhaps it wasn’t all that unbelievable. He was a guy after all and Granger was an attractive girl, if she’d just shut that know-it-all mouth for two minutes.

When Draco heard Granger turning the shower off, it suddenly dawned on him what a stupid position he was in. In the middle of the night he was standing butt-naked on his toilet-seat, with his ear pressed up against the wall.

Good thing no one was there to see him like that.

He quietly got off the toilet seat and tiptoed out of his bathroom, making sure Granger wouldn’t hear him leave. After shutting the door behind him, he laid himself down onto his bed, his mind in deep contemplation. Draco felt as if this meant something more than he could see at the moment; like a veil was hanging in front of his eyes, preventing him from seeing the importance of what was transpiring around him. So what was it? Could he possibly use this information in any way? So girls wank; what’s the big deal? He supposed it felt somewhat comforting to know that people could still surprise him, that they had sides to them that one wouldn’t think they possessed. Granger had never shown any indication that she might have sexual needs, yet clearly she did have them. To Draco, it felt reassuring to know that other people were hiding parts of themselves from the general public, since that way he knew that he wasn’t alone.

Since Draco was a very public entity at Hogwarts, people tended to believe that they knew all there was to know about him. He was very aware of who and what he was and how other people perceived him. He was haughty, snobbish, a loudmouth and overly sure of himself. He was incredibly handsome, which was a perk that often came from being the descendent of a pureblood family. He had power, both from his family’s influence as well as from his own persona. He was intelligent and charismatic and thus could get away with practically anything. Yet, apart from all this, there was one aspect about Draco Malfoy that made him the Draco Malfoy; one aspect known throughout Hogwarts that left all boys in awe of their Head Boy and that sent all girls into a swoon whenever he entered a room:

Draco Malfoy was a Sex God.

It was commonly known that he had lost his virginity at age fourteen during a casual romp with Pansy Parkinson, thus making them the first pair in their year to become sexually active. But Draco wasn’t a one-woman man, and Pansy was swiftly replaced by another girl... and another, and another. After that, it was a regular thing at the breakfast table to hear a girl giggle about her sexual escapades with Draco Malfoy the night before. Since he was known as a generous lover who’d make it worth their while, it didn’t take long for girls to make it a career goal to sleep with Draco.

Everyone agreed on one thing: it must be great to be Draco Malfoy.

Yes, everyone agreed, except for one person... Draco Malfoy himself.

Draco wasn’t unhappy about his reputation. He quite enjoyed the positive attention. It gave him an excuse for acting like an ass. According to one girl, he had managed to shag her 9 times in one night, something that made him revered in both male and female circles. Everyone wanted to either be him or be with him.

All this would have been great, honestly.

If it hadn’t all been a lie.

Draco sighed and cursed the day when this whole chain-reaction started. First it had been Pansy who had made up a story about having lost her virginity to him and how wonderful he had been in the sack. Then, after noticing Pansy’s sudden rise in popularity, other girls had wanted to be able to say the same. But instead of approaching Draco, probably out of fear of rejection or just plain fear of having sex, they made up stories... stories that became more and more mind-boggling just so they could top the one told by the girl before.

Not only had Draco not slept with the vast amounts of people the rumours said he had, he hadn’t slept with anyone.

Draco Malfoy was a virgin.

Sure, there were girls who had actually tried getting him in bed with them, but Draco had always been able to weasel out of it. This wasn’t because he didn’t want to have sex. Merlin, did he want to have sex! Wanking was fine to soothe his urgent sexual needs, but it didn’t soothe his mental desires. The reality of enclosing his hands around a girl’s breasts, squeezing the cheeks of her bum and feeling his cock penetrating her willing body was so far-off at this point it made him want to sob in frustration. Draco just wasn’t prepared to give up his stature as a Sex God. He might not have had sex, but he was very much aware that the performance he would give on his first try would not stand up to his reputation. If a girl started tittering about how Draco Malfoy wasn’t even able to hold off for over thirty seconds, his reputation as a Sex God was over, along with the reverence and respect he got for it. Draco knew he was supposed to know the female body inside out, to know what buttons to push and how to push them. Apparently he had been able to give one girl twenty orgasms in one night, but when given the chance he’d be grateful if he’d actually manage to induce one.

So, until now, Draco just remained as pure as fresh snow.

It unnerved him really, knowing that in theory he could be shagging half the school yet not being able to. Even if he didn’t have his current status, he’d probably still be able to seduce about the same amount of people. He was handsome, graceful, and knew how to handle the ladies... just not in bed!

Once Draco graduated, he’d probably be summoned to actively participate in the war, which was now in full swing. The odds that he would survive to see his 19th birthday were slim to nil. So, the several months into his final year at Hogwarts Draco had tried to come to terms with the idea that he probably would die a virgin, a thought that unsurprisingly enough didn’t seem all that appealing to him.

But then again... he might not have to.

A triumphant smirk crossed Draco’s face as suddenly the veil lifted itself from his face and uncovered the reality around him. He had gained some valuable information tonight... information he eventually might be able to use. If his thoughts about sex and sexuality had been flawed before, it was perfectly possible that his new view of things could blend in perfectly with a plan to rid himself of his current state. Draco rolled unto his side, determined to get some rest, needing his mind to be clear and refreshed for the following evening.

There was a lot to be said about Slytherins, but not that they couldn’t scheme.

****

Hermione sighed as she closed her Arithmancy book and turned off the light at her desk. She stretched her aching muscles as she got up from her chair and released a loud yawn. She had studied hours into the night, as she had been doing for the past few nights, and her eyes had started stinging painfully from fatigue. She took off her clothes and neatly placed them onto her chair. Her pyjamas were tidily folded on her bedside table, but for now she left them untouched and crawled into bed completely naked. Hermione took pride in being able to wake up and get into study-mode in less than a minute, but sadly she wasn’t able to do the opposite when it was the other way around. Even if she was tired, her mind was still whirling with facts and figures, which prevented her from going to sleep.

Not without any help anyway.

When Hermione had settled herself comfortably on the bed, she let her hands find her full breasts and firmly, but not painfully, squeezed them. She purred contentedly as she rolled her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, still not totally understanding how such a seemingly useless body-part could bring forth such wonderful sensations. As her left hand kept fondling her breast, she let her right hand wander down her stomach between her legs. She easily found the sensitive nub of her clit and started rubbing against it with two fingers.

Hermione couldn’t help but feel somewhat proud at being able to accommodate her own body this well, especially since it hadn’t always been this way. She had only discovered the ability to pleasure herself a few months ago after all. Ever since the day she had experimentally let her hands wander between her legs, she had continued doing it daily; finding out what her body responded to and what actions made her orgasms more intense.

She just wished she had figured out how to do it sooner; before she had lost her virginity to Victor.

Ever since Victor had taken a fancy to Hermione in her fourth year, he had continuously asked her to spend the summer with him in Bulgaria; a request she had always politely declined. In truth, Hermione had always refused his offer because she kept hoping Ron would eventually get a clue and ask her out. But the death of Sirius, the summer before she had turned 17, had awakened something inside of her; the knowledge that she wasn’t going to live forever. Ron might think he was going to live forever, but Hermione sure knew she wasn’t. She had been three months away from becoming an adult and felt as if she had wasted the past 17 years on nothing but books and theory. In a frightful panic, she had decided that it was time to start the practical side of her life and had taken up Victor’s offer to spend the summer with him.

The first few days after arriving in Bulgaria it had swiftly become clear to Hermione that Victor was still as smitten with her as he had been two years before. At the time, she hadn’t been sure how she felt about him in return, but she couldn’t help but feel incredibly flattered by his attentions. Granted, they didn’t have all that much in common, but it wasn’t as if Hermione believed in romantic gibberish like soulmates or anything. And it also wasn’t as if anyone else was romantically interested in her, so who was she to decline the interest of a star Quidditch player who worshipped the ground she walked on? So when one evening, while walking back to his apartment after visiting the old parts of the city of Sofia, Victor suddenly stopped in his tracks and leaned in to kiss her, Hermione didn’t object. The kiss had been sweet and tender and Victor had visibly been as nervous as she had been. She still hadn’t been all too clear on how she truly felt about Victor, but she did know that he was nice, gentle and fun to be around. And besides, her first kiss had been postponed long enough that she really wasn’t going to refuse.

That summer they hadn’t gone any further than kissing; Victor probably being too gentlemanly to ask that soon after getting together and Hermione just plainly not being ready to go further. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been physically ready, she often felt so sexually frustrated she could scream from the top of her lungs, but she just couldn’t imagine actually sleeping with anyone. The thought of having to be naked and being all vulnerable and having to moan and whimper while having no idea what she was doing had been so scary and unknown to her, that she just hadn’t been prepared to go through with it.

Not until Christmas break anyway.

Hermione had been used to facing danger and death since she was eleven, yet she had always been somewhat accustomed to being relatively safe from it all until the end of the school year. In that aspect, sixth year had been different. Voldemort was clearly bringing out the big guns, causing terror and dismay throughout the whole Britain. The first four months of school Hermione had spent more time in the Headquarters of The Order of The Phoenix than on school grounds, waiting in dread to hear if one of its members had died in St. Mungo’s after barely surviving an attack, or by chance might have lived. The nights that Hermione hadn’t cried herself to sleep were scarce, and those nights mostly consisted of not sleeping at all and staring blankly at the ceiling. Hermione had been certain she wasn’t going to live to see the end of the school year and in the undoubtedly short time that remained to her, she had been desperate to experience the things that were still in her grasp. So it wasn’t all that shocking to her that on one afternoon, while visiting her parents during Christmas break, Hermione had floo-ed to Victors apartment and had pleaded with him to make love to her.

Looking back on it now, Hermione was a bit mournful about the experience. If she had known how to pleasure herself before she had ended up in bed with Victor, her first time might not have been as painful as it had been. She could have shown Victor where her clitoris was and how to stimulate it, and she could also have asked him to engage in a bit more foreplay, since she hadn’t been sufficiently lubricated. Her channel had still been mostly dry when he had penetrated her, causing her to experience unnecessary discomfort atop of her hymen being breached. Losing her virginity had been down right horrible and – thankfully - very brief. Hermione couldn’t really blame Victor for her first time not having been a pleasurable experience. He had been a virgin too and if Hermione herself hadn’t even known how to pleasure herself; how could she expect someone else to know. It wasn’t as if Victor had meant to hurt her; he adored her to bits.

The next time they slept together had been during the following summer and Hermione was relieved to find that most of the pain had faded; yet sadly the pleasure had also been almost non-existent. She had been well aware that losing her virginity would be painful, but surely the discomfort would fade and be replaced by pleasure? Hermione had been somewhat worried that there might have been something wrong with her; that she might have been frigid and that there was nothing to fix it. She had actually been thankful that she was still in school, and only got to see her boyfriend during breaks thus removing the obligation of sleeping with him that often. Looking back, she figured that she should have noticed that being relieved about not having to spend time with her boyfriend would indicate that everything wasn’t up to scratch in the relationship. But she still felt as thought there was something wrong with her and she was trying her best to stay in denial about that.

She believed that her sexual-unresponsiveness was solely her fault all the way into her seventh year. But then on one lonely night seven months ago, she had let her hand find it’s way to her sex and had rubbed her way into glorious ecstasy until sparks of light had erupted behind her shut eyes. It was then she had come to the revelation that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. In that moment, she had had a sudden view of her possible future and it hadn’t been a pretty one. She had seen herself dreading the touches of her lover, yet when he had turned over after making love to her and was fast asleep beside her; she’d be rushing off to the privacy of her bathroom to bring herself to the release he couldn’t give her.

So, still in the haze of her orgasm, she wrote Victor a letter to let him know that they would be better off as friends. Even if they’d have stayed together and perhaps had discussed their sex-life and practised, they still would never have been able to truly have passionate intercourse. They just didn’t fit together, neither mentally nor physically. Hermione didn’t know if her vagina was too wide-set or if Victor’s penis was too narrow, but his erection just didn’t create enough friction or reach enough sensitive spots to bring Hermione into higher atmospheres. Additionally, as much Victor’s manhood was lacking in width, it fully made up for it in length. Hermione had never seen another penis before, in resting state or erect, but she was observant enough to know that Victor’s was quite a bit longer than average. It was quite enormous actually. Normally one would think this would be a good thing, Hermione however experienced that this wasn’t the case. During sex, Victor’s longer-than-average erection kept bumping up against Hermione’s cervix, which was quite painful.

As Hermione now laid naked on her bed after an evening of studying, and was pumping her fingers in and out her slick cavern, she couldn’t help but be a bit frightened of the idea that no one would be able to give her the same pleasure as she herself had learned to do. As she bucked her hips against her fingers and moaned at the feelings spreading across her body, she forced her mind to stay on what she was doing now and not on what the future might bring. She liked to pretend that someone was making love to her, that it weren’t her own fingers bringing her to release, but the cock of a man that was perfectly sculptured to fit her vagina and to hit the sensitive spots of her inner walls. As she kneaded her breast, she imagined it was someone else doing it; playfully pinching, suckling and nibbling her responsive flesh.

“My, my, Granger. Still awake I see,” an amused, familiar voice said from the doorway.

Hermione gasped in shock, removed her hands from their intimate positions and reached for the sheets at the end of her bed, urgently covering every inch of her naked body.

“Malfoy? What the Hell are you doing in my room?” Hermione shrieked, her voice trembling with rage, embarrassment and (to her own dismay) arousal. “Get out!”

“Not just yet,” Draco said.

“Are you serious?” Hermione yelled incredulously as she urgently wrapped her bed sheet around her body and jumped off the bed. “I said, get out!”

Hermione was absolutely mortified at being caught doing that by none other than Draco Malfoy. What she really wanted to do was be left alone, scream into her pillow and perhaps do some serious crying. Instead, he didn’t seem to make any move that indicated he was ready to leave, so Hermione just huddled herself into the corner, as far away from Malfoy as she could get.

“Relax Granger,” Draco said as he switched on the light and gracefully sat himself down on Hermione’s bed, “I’m here to make you a proposition.”

Draco really couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over Granger’s form, even though it was mostly covered with a sheet. The brief glimpse he’d been able to get of her naked form really wasn’t enough to sooth his curiosity. Granger’s skin was glowing with perspiration, her eyes were still darkened from arousal and knowing that she was butt-naked under that sheet made Draco’s cock stir. How every single day for the past 7 years both Potty and the Weasel had seemingly refrained from jumping this girl and shagging her rotten was beyond him. Granger might be a know-it-all, but who cares if she had a body like that?

“I’m sure you are!” Hermione spat, not sure what she meant by that, only that she was extremely pissed off at the Slytherin who had now even invaded her bed.

“With me being a Slytherin, you should know that it would hardly be natural for me to keep certain information, like I have just witnessed, solely to myself,” Draco said with businesslike surety, raising his hand to forestall Hermione voicing any retort to his threat. “However, I am willing to go against my nature if you are willing to accommodate one tiny request of mine.”

“Which is?” Hermione asked with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She hoped it wasn’t going to be too bad since she really couldn’t have Malfoy blabbing around school that he had walked in on The Head Girl getting herself off. Not only would her authority as Head Girl be undermined, but she would never be able to show her face in public again. Whatever it was Malfoy wanted from her, she’d probably give it.

“I want you to keep doing what you were doing and let me watch.”

“What?” Hermione yelled indignantly, subconsciously pulling the sheet closer to her body. “I certainly will not!”

“Come on, Granger” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “I have already seen you do it just now, so there really is nothing more to be embarrassed about. All I want is a better look.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Hermione spat. “And who says that after you have got ‘a better look’ you won’t go blabbing anyway?”

“Because, Granger, we both have secrets. I now know yours and, since it will be somewhat difficult to execute my request without it, you will soon know mine. So if you will keep my secret, I will keep yours.”

“What secret?” Hermione huffed, not truly believing he could have any information that measured up to the leverage he had over her.

“Aren’t you wondering why I’m so eager to watch you wank?” Draco asked pointedly.

“So it isn’t just because you’re a sick son of a Bitch?” Hermione asked sarcastically, earning her an angry glare from Draco. “Fine, why are you so eager to watch me... to err,... to watch me?”

“Because I want to learn how to pleasure a girl,” Draco said.

“Oh please...” Hermione snorted derisively.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“No, I don’t” Hermione said sternly. “What could there still be left to learn for Mister-Twenty-Orgasms-In-One-Night?”

“My, my, aren’t you up to date on all the latest gossip?” Draco said amusedly, making Hermione stare at her feet self-consciously. “No-one is sadder than I that my reputation is slightly exaggerated.”

Hermione frowned.

“Exaggerated?” she asked, momentarily forgetting the awkward position she was in. “How much?”

“All of it.”

“What does that mean?” she asked frowning, not quite following where this was going.

“It means, that every single girl I have allegedly slept with is a big fat liar and needs to get herself a life without ruining mine in the process” Draco said bitterly.

“Every single-...?"

“Yes.”

A brief moment of silence passed between them as Hermione let this information sink in. This was something that was quite difficult since Draco being a sexual predator had always been as evident as water being wet. Did he just say every single girl?

“You’re a vi-...?” Hermione exclaimed, stopping before she had used the V-word. “I mean... a very patient man?”

Draco nodded.

“Good lord, how did that happen?” Hermione said, almost forgetting that she was wearing nothing but a sheet, which she readjusted so that it was fastened securely once more.

“Don’t ask me, I had nothing to do with it,” Draco said, innocently raising his hands in the air. “All I know is that I’m not going to publicly announce the fact that it has all been a lie, nor am I prepared to solely live my life based on what people say it is. This is where you come in.”

Hermione sighed and buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. In a despicable and evil sort of way, Malfoy’s request made sense. He wanted to be able to sleep with a girl without being uncovered as someone who didn’t know what he was doing. To be able to shag a girl while not letting her know he was a virgin, he’d have to get some really detailed information on what to do first. It made sense to ask someone to show him how the female body functioned, but why did it have to be her? Surely she couldn’t masturbate in front of him, could she?

Could she?

Who knows, if some nice girl had given Victor a lesson on the female anatomy, Hermione’s sexual experiences up until now might have been a whole lot different. In a way, the awfulness of her own former sex-life made Hermione feel somewhat responsible for the girls with whom Malfoy might one day share the bed. Could she save them from the years of self-doubt she had gone through by giving Malfoy a How-To lesson? But more importantly; she really couldn’t have him go blabbing about what he had seen tonight. Good Lord, what if Ron or Harry found out? What if the teachers found out? She knew well enough that she wasn’t the only girl doing it, but she was also well aware that if it got out that she did it; no one would jump in to admit they also did it. If this got out; she would be alone in this.

“It would just be watching, right?” Hermione asked timidly, her eyes remaining on the floor.

“Just watching,” Draco affirmed.

Hermione nodded, letting him know she agreed to his proposition. She took a deep breath and quickly walked over to the dimmer to soften the light a bit. She might have agreed to let Malfoy watch, but she wasn’t prepared to let him see everything. Just because she wasn’t a virgin anymore didn’t mean she was comfortable with being naked in front of other people. Not that she hated her body, she just didn’t love it. She was slightly curvier than she would have liked to be, although she was lucky enough to be blessed with a slender waist that gave her body a lovely hourglass-shape. She had an ugly scar on her right knee as the result of a bad tumble in the Ministry of Magic, now almost two years ago, which bothered her to no end. And additionally, she hadn’t worn a bathing suit in several years, with the effect that her entire body had a milky white complexion; a pallor that hadn’t been in fashion since Queen Victoria ruled Britain. If Hermione she’d get away with it she’d just switch the light off totally, but she was sure Malfoy wouldn’t approve.

As Hermione turned around after having successfully turned the light into something that wasn’t too bright nor too dark, she saw that Malfoy had left her bed and positioned himself in her desk chair, which he had dragged to the foot of her bed.

She couldn’t help but find it ironic that she was about to do this in front of him. Malfoy might not have a clue, but in a way he had been the reason why Hermione had broken things off with Victor at the beginning of this term. After just having received her private quarters, Hermione had discovered the luxury of being able to study late without bothering anyone. During one of these study-sessions she had noticed that one of the books she had borrowed from the library had gone missing. Carefully retracing her steps, she had realised that the last time she had seen it had been in the common room, which had brought her to the conclusion that Malfoy probably had taken it without asking. In a fit of annoyance, she had got up and marched to Malfoy’s room, barging in without knocking, to demand her book back.

Now, you should know that Hermione did tend to lose track of time when she was busy studying, and on this specific occasion it was already half past twelve, and Malfoy was already fast asleep. You also should know that it was still September and that England was still undergoing a bit of a heat wave.

All of these things combined, made it so that one day 7 months ago Hermione found herself walking in on a sleeping, and above all naked, Draco Malfoy.

He had been resting on his side, his pale body completely bare for Hermione to see. She still remembered how she had just stood there, transfixed, unable to do anything but stare at this beautiful young man as he was sleeping, blissfully unaware of her prying eyes. She had known Draco Malfoy was a handsome boy, but actually seeing him naked had struck something inside of her, like being moved by a beautiful painting or artwork. She still recalled having this strange curiosity about his body she felt she shouldn’t be having; after all, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen a naked man before. Malfoy was less muscular than Victor and he also had a bit more meat to his bones. Not that Malfoy was flabby (by no means!), but while Victor bordered on dangerously skinny, Malfoy was more slender in a wiry sort-of-way. Unlike Victor, he didn’t have any hair on his chest and the two flat surfaces of his pecs were smooth and unadorned, save for the small pale nipples which strangely reminded Hermione of the erasers at the end of a Muggle pencil. She also had momentarily let her eyes wander over his flaccid penis, which rested against his inner thigh, and couldn’t help but blush when she caught herself thinking that it looked quite nice. It wasn’t as long as Victor’s’ had been, but knowing how it felt to have something that size inside you it was probably a blessing that not every guy’s was that long. She had watched Malfoy as he turned over onto his back, his hand momentarily rubbing his lower abdomen in the process; a soft, tender caress that he would never have done if he had been awake, since it probably wouldn’t have been masculine enough. It was then that Hermione had realised what a serious violation of his privacy this was, after which she had quickly exited the room.

When she had run back to her bedroom and had somewhat calmed herself, she had become aware of an intense feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was a feeling she faintly recognised, but had never before felt this strongly, the feeling of arousal. She had tried rubbing her legs together to get rid of it, but all that had done was make it stronger. She had figured that momentarily putting her hands between her legs would ‘shut it up’, but then it turned out that all she had done was further aggravate the ache between her legs. She then had put her hand inside her knickers to get more direct contact, since somehow she felt that rubbing against her sex through her pants was too superficial. She had found herself getting wet and had been a bit worried about that at first, but she was a bit more preoccupied with the wonderful things her body had been doing. It was only after five minutes of rubbing, when she felt her fingers brushing against a little bundle of nerves she had never before known was there, she had realised she must have been masturbating. That was the night in which she had achieved her first orgasm and it was also the night in which she had broken up with Victor. If the mere sight of Draco Malfoy, someone she detested, could arouse her more than any physical affection her boyfriend had ever given her, then there had been something seriously wrong with their relationship.

And now here she was, about to masturbate in front of the very person who had caused her to discover it in the first place.

In a way, she found the thought of doing this in front of someone else to be rather erotic. And Malfoy, even though he was an annoying bastard, was undeniably sexy as hell. Still, she also couldn’t help but feel like a fraud. This whole situation was as if she was an expert giving someone a tutorial, while in truth she felt far from being an expert. Heck, it had taken her 18 years before she had first figured out how to wank; how could she possibly be qualified enough to instruct someone else on how to do it?

She resolutely walked over to stand next to her bed and took a deep breath to clear her head of all thoughts. Holding the hem of the sheet covering her body she sheepishly looked up at Malfoy and said: “So, er... -I’m going to.... -you know... start.”

Draco watched Granger with a childlike fascination as she unwrapped the sheet and let it drop to the floor, baring her naked body to his gaze. If Hermione hadn’t suddenly been so fascinated with her feet, she would have seen a look on Draco’s face that had graced her own face once before; when she had seen him naked and had been emotionally moved to pieces. Never having seen a naked girl before (not live anyway) made this experience extra special to Draco. He hadn’t grown up in a so called ‘naked-house’, his parents never leaving their bedroom or bathroom without being fully clothed, so he wasn’t used to all the exposed flesh he was seeing now. He had a sudden urge to reach out and caress it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Suddenly his attention was diverted elsewhere when Hermione bent over so she could crawl onto the bed. As she bent over the bed, her back curved into a gracious arc that highlighted the swell of her arse. And a nice arse it was. With a primal male fascination, Draco watched her breasts jiggle with every little move she made and wondered how they would feel covered by the palm of his hands. Would they feel as good as they looked?

When she lay down onto the bed and her front was fully exposed to him, Draco’s gaze almost automatically flew to the mound of Granger’s sex. For years he had heard his male friends talk about their own sexual escapades and it had seemed to be a general consensus that untrimmed mounds were disgusting and unsanitary. Draco couldn’t quite make out if Granger trimmed or if she perhaps just naturally didn’t have all that much hair there, but he didn’t find the small triangle of brown hair disgusting at all. It just reminded him of the fact that he was dealing with someone who was closer to being a woman than being a girl. Draco had also seen the naked girls in the occasional Play-Wizard that had been passed around the Slytherin Common Room during the past few years, and somehow he had always preferred seeing girls with at least a scrap of underwear on; finding it more alluring. Full nudity had always seemed a bit too in-your-face to him and made it lose its sensuality. Though he didn’t exactly know why, he felt like he should change his opinion. The curves and softness of Granger’s body, now lying before him on the bed, were almost hypnotic.

“Good God, he really is a virgin,” Hermione thought in amazement as she looked up from beneath her eyelashes and caught the fascinated look Malfoy was casting over her body. She had planned to do a quick once-over, rush to orgasm and be done with this. But now she felt somewhat obliged to cover all the things Malfoy should know, to see that he’d learn something and to make sure this ordeal wasn’t for nothing.

Draco watched enthralled as Granger cupped her breasts in her hands and started kneading them, paying attention to the way her hand moved and how she liked it. He was well aware that what one girl liked wouldn’t be the same for another, but knowing what one liked was at least a start. He noticed that her hands were too small to fully accommodate the size of her breasts and wondered if even his larger hands would be able to fully enclose them. Since when did Granger have such marvellous tits? The last time he remembered giving her body a good look was when she had worn that tight dress at the Yule ball during fourth year. Draco guessed she must at least have grown two cup-sizes since then, not that he knew much of anything about bra-sizes, but he can’t have been far off anyway.

One of Granger’s hands released its grip on her breast, which she then brought to her face and put two of its fingers in her mouth, wetting them. Draco noticed that her eyes were closed, probably out of self-consciousness of him watching her. When she released her fingers from her mouth she seemed to be hesitating for a moment, since she stopped fondling her breast. For a moment Draco thought she was about to call it quits, but luckily she didn’t and after only a few moments of wavering slowly spread her legs before him.

Draco couldn’t help but lean forward to get a better look at her sex. The first thing he observed was that it wasn’t as bad-looking as he thought it would be. He had seen a few sketches and pictures in the little amount of sex-ed they had received at Hogwarts and had never quite understood what other men found so arousing about the female genital (or any genital for that matter). But perhaps it was because this was real-life and not a sketch, or perhaps it was because it might look better when aroused, but Granger’s vagina actually looked rather beautiful. The soft, glistening, pink folds were reminiscent of a rose sprinkled with morning dew.

Draco suddenly had to reposition himself a bit, since his own genital had decided to come to life and wave hello at the arousing sight before him and was now uncomfortably pressing against his trousers. As he rearranged his pants so it wouldn’t bother him so much, Granger’s fingers had reached her sex and had placed two fingers in a seemingly strategic place.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Draco said.

Hermione groaned inwardly at this request. It was one thing to do something; it’s another to talk about it.

“I’m... erm... stimulating my clitoris” she stammered.

Draco leaned in a bit further and then noticed the little red nub in-between her two fingers.

“But why not just press against it instead of next to it?” Draco asked, not wanting to miss any important information.

“Too sensitive” she answered as she slowly started running her fingers along the responsive nub. “It hurts under direct contact. But I’ve heard other woman can take direct stimulation. I suppose it varies on its size and the amount of nerves in it.”

Hermione couldn’t believe she was actually doing this and was having this conversation at the same time. Was she actually talking to Malfoy about the different kinds of clitorises? As she was moving her fingers back and forth along the edges of her clit, she caught herself releasing a small whimper, which made her feel like smacking herself. From then on, she tried to focus on her breathing; she honestly wasn’t going to let herself become too responsive in Malfoy’s presence. She removed her fingers from her clit, spread her folds and eased two fingers inside her slick pussy.

Draco watched in fascination as Granger started pumping her fingers at a steady pace. She seemed to really enjoy this since he started biting her lip, obviously trying to keep herself quiet. He paid great attention to where her fingers were entering her body, because when the time came he really didn’t want to be faced with the possibility that he might not be able to find a girl’s entrance. He watched her ease in a third finger, her fingers sliding against her slick inner walls creating squishy noises with each thrust. Draco guided his hand downwards and squeezed his erection through his pants, desperately trying to relieve some of the tension that was building there.

Hermione realised that this really wasn’t so bad. Arousal had taken over from her self-consciousness and her mind was too clouded to feel strange about the situation. Still, she decided to keep her eyes firmly closed, since she feared she might cower anyway when faced with Malfoy’s smug countenance. She also really didn’t want to lose two orgasms in one night. Hermione still remembered a book her mother had bought her a few years ago that gave information about what happens when a girl becomes a woman. One chapter about orgasms had basically said that girls shouldn’t be expecting an orgasm every time she had intercourse, that sex could still be great without it and that climaxing basically had the same effect as a good sneeze. Hermione just hoped that not too many girls had read that book, because in her opinion that was a load of rubbish! Hermione had actually believed it until she had finally managed to have one. Maybe it made her less of a woman, but she honestly couldn’t imagine herself calling a shag fantastic without having had an orgasm.

A sneeze, honestly!

“What are you thinking of now?” she heard Malfoy ask her and the proximity of his voice told her that he had moved to sit on his knees beside the bed.

“Nothing specific,” Hermione said, her voice more of a whimper than she wanted it to be.

“Liar,” Malfoy said. “I’m just curious about what’s playing behind those shut eyelids of yours, Granger. Don’t tell me a constructive mind like yours hasn’t created a fictitious lover to shag you into the mattress on occasions like this.”

“Gah, fine!” Hermione grunted, releasing a strangled moan in the process. “I do like to pretend... what you just said.”

“So, anyone I know?” Draco asked inquisitorially.

“No, he doesn’t really have a face,” Hermione answered. “Great body though.”

Draco chuckled, finding it amusing that this was about the same description he would have to give his fictitious shagging-girl: great tits, nice arse, tight cunt... but for the life of him he couldn’t see her face.

“So... what’s he doing to you now?” Draco asked, momentarily letting his gaze wander to Granger’s nimble fingers as they sped up their thrusts.

“He’s... he’s having sex with me” Hermione said, her voice trembling from arousal.

“Tsk tsk, Granger. You can do better than that,” Draco said with mock disappointment. “Be more specific.”

Hermione groaned, not sure if it was from arousal or mortification. In any other situation she probably would have told Malfoy to stuff a sock in it and then pointed out that this wasn’t part of the deal. She really wasn’t the kind of person to talk dirty. Whatever choice of words she might use, they would sound vulgar. On the other hand, she really wasn’t keen on having to stop now, so she’d just have to play along.

“He’s plunging into me,” she said, her voice hoarse and needy. “Hard, yet the caresses of his hands are soft and comforting.”

“Where are his hands?”

“One... one is on my breast,” she answered, squeezing her breast more tightly with her left hand. “And the other is caressing the back of my right thigh.”

“And where are his lips?” Draco asked.

Hermione cooed contently and bucked her hips against her hand as she felt the tension build. Buggering hell, she had never been this aroused in her life. Somehow voicing her imaginations had made them feel more real. And feeling the close proximity of another person, in this case Malfoy, made the situation even more realistic. The idea that someone really was making love to her felt more real than it had ever felt before. Strike that, she wasn’t just being made love to; she was experiencing the best bloody shag of her life!

“Granger?” Draco pressed. “I asked you where his lips were.”

“On my neck,” Hermione replied breathlessly. “Suckling and nipping, biting down hard, marking me as his. He mischievously nibbles my earlobe, knowing how sensitive I am there. He’s whispering naughty things in my ear, telling me to look down to where we join, pointing out how perfectly we fit together. He tells me how much I drive him wild. He picks up the pace and then asks me to look up at him. He knows that I like it when he looks into my eyes as we climb the last flights to orgasm; that I love it that he doesn’t want to miss anything of me. He’s genuinely fucking me now, not able to hold himself back, losing himself in me. I’m grabbing his arse, feeling the firm globes of his butt-cheeks beneath my fingers as I’m trying to get him deeper inside of me. I tell him to go faster, to shag me rotten. It’s all so... carnal, beastly, wild... perfect. I plead with him to-... to... Don’t... Stop... Oh!-“

Draco’s jaw had fallen open with astonishment at watching and listening to Granger expressing her deepest sexual fantasies to him. He was both amazed and enthralled by the exceptional detail in which she had been imagining her mental coupling. Not to mention at how bloody verbal she could be about it when aroused enough. Honestly, it was a miracle Draco hadn’t come in his pants! Though he did have to admit he had felt some serious twitching going on down there, and certainly something was turning the front of his boxers into a wet spot. He kept on watching Granger as she fucked herself senseless. The eloquent sentences she had started out with had now evaporated into short cries and soft pleas. Her body was covered with a soft sheen of perspiration and here and there blotches of pink started gracing her pale skin. She was visibly close to release. Her eyes started leaking tears and her lips were red and swollen from nibbling on them to keep herself quiet. He kept on watching her until her body tensed up and she threw her head back and climaxed with a soft cry, her body shuddering with release.

Before Hermione even had sufficient time to put her thoughts back into order, Draco stood up from his kneeling position and walked over to the door.

“Thanks Granger, this was very educational,” he said, opening the door and closing it behind him as he disappeared into the night; leaving a speechless Hermione alone in her room, trying to find her breath after what had undeniably been the most intense orgasm of her life. As she looked at the door and then looked at herself, she absentmindedly moved a strand of hair out of her eyes, her dazzled mind only able to come up with one word that sufficiently qualified in this situation.

“Shit.”

*********


End of chapter one

Disclaimer: The lines: “Draco felt as if he had been walking up the stairs to his bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is this sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things,” are originated from Lemony Snicket’s ‘A series of Unfortunate events’, book the second, page 95-96.

Disclaimer: the line: “You’re a vi-... I mean, a very patient man,” is from ‘Lois and Clark’. Don’t ask me which episode, it’s been years ago since I’ve seen it and I just remember this line because I thought it was funny.

 
 
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
(Anonymous) on October 2nd, 2005 01:21 am (UTC)
Great Story!
I just read this story last night and I have to tell you I REALLY enjoyed it!! It was just excellent! I laughed out loud! I'll be actively looking for more of your stories!


(Anonymous) on August 16th, 2006 05:10 pm (UTC)
I'm looking forward to chapter two.
She will be loved (hppyflwr)hppyflwr on May 29th, 2007 02:03 pm (UTC)
Good one
I read your story not long ago and all I can tell you is once I started reading it I could stop usually I try to stay away from stories that are too long but your was an exception Please Keep on writing stories to all of us who are devoted to your work PRETTY PLEASE
heart5heart5 on August 28th, 2007 11:31 am (UTC)
i read this somewhere before (was it coloured grey?), loved it! so very HOT. yay for virgin!draco :D
♥ KIM: dramione. yr1/2radical_teen on November 19th, 2007 04:50 am (UTC)
Oh wow, where's part 2? I can't seem to find it.
Padfoot the Marauderfaintingfancy on November 27th, 2007 10:44 pm (UTC)
You can get to it by clicking on the 'next' button on the top of the page or by going here: http://faintingfancy.livejournal.com/18551.html

Happy reading,
Padfoot.
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )