Author's Note: This story is dedicated to XXdustnight88. My everlasting thanks for all the encouragement. It's not a sequel to First Thursdays, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

Also: thank you to toavoidconversation for reading an early draft of this story and encouraging me to finish it.

To everyone else: thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Hermione put her bag down before wandering through her flat, looking for Draco.

"Draco," she called out. She'd been hoping he'd be home when she arrived, but wasn't entirely surprised when he wasn't. She'd been gone on a work trip that required a complete lack of magic for twenty-three days and wasn't scheduled to return for another five. But she had been tired of missing Draco.

Hermione hadn't been able to decide what career path to follow after Hogwarts. She'd taken some time to go to muggle university, but didn't want to entirely abandon the magic world. She'd received many offers from department heads within the Ministry of Magic, and from several businesses outside the Ministry, but nothing felt like exactly the right fit. She knew she didn't want to be stuck behind a desk all the time, but at the same time, she DID love paperwork. She liked variety and she loved tackling challenges, and so she'd eventually started contracting out her services. This sometimes meant a wonky schedule, as she worked for many different clients; but she was able to try her hand at whatever struck her interest, and it was entirely at her whim whether she said yes or no to an offer.

Most recently, she had taken a contract with the Department of Muggle Relations to help solve a string of disappearances on a small island near the Bermuda Triangle. Its location didn't allow for the use of magic (magic was available, but so unstable, its use was prohibited), and the cellphone reception on the island was basically nil, meaning she'd only gotten to speak to Draco once while she'd been gone. So he didn't know about her wrapping up the case early, and she couldn't be surprised that he wasn't home, yet, as it was a work day.

The prohibition against magic near the Bermuda Triangle extended to her ability to travel to and from the island, so she'd taken a boat to a nearby island, and then taken a small plane to Florida. From there, she either had to be quarantined for 24 hours before they'd issue her an international portkey (to make sure the island hadn't messed with her magic), or she could continue to travel home via muggle means. She'd opted to hop on the first flight out to London, arriving at 11AM local time. It was now just after lunchtime, and it had been a long shot to think that Draco would be home.

She grabbed her bag from near the front door and walked back into their bedroom. She'd just take a quick shower and a kip and then prepare for his arrival home. She rushed through her shower—while it felt great to be clean, she hadn't slept well without Draco, and knowing she'd soon be in their bed, surrounded by his scent, she had no doubt this nap would be the best sleep she'd gotten since she'd left.

After stepping out of the shower, she used a quick Drying Spell on her hair, and walked into their shared closet to find something to change into. She pulled one of Draco's old Quidditch shirts over her naked body, remembering the way he always reacted to seeing his name written across her back and along the sleeve of her right shoulder. She smiled to herself, before dragging herself to their bed and crawling beneath the covers. She pulled Draco's pillow to her chest, inhaling deeply before drifting off to sleep.

Two Hours Later…

Hermione woke up, but didn't open her eyes. She'd slept well, as she knew she would—back in her own bed and surrounded by Draco's scent. But she wasn't ready to face the world again, yet. She began planning the best way to seduce Draco in the time she had remaining before he arrived home. She didn't know what his schedule held for today, but she knew she had at least another three hours before he'd get home.

She could make him a special dinner, use candles, wear lingerie under her apron, make him sit across from her and try to finish dinner while she wore nothing but some flimsy scraps of lace between his eyes and her body. She squirmed a bit under the sheets just imagining the scenario. Draco's eyes would be hungry, and she would feel so wanton sitting in their dining room, in one of their high-backed chairs, with nothing separating the skin of her pussy from the soft fabric, except those same scraps of lace.

Merlin, why wasn't he already home! She couldn't wait to put her hands on him, to have his hands on her, too. She sighed in some frustration, opened her eyes, and scooted up to sit with her back against the headboard. She wanted to do something special for Draco, on top of the surprise of coming home several days early, but perhaps action would be better than sitting around thinking about it. Maybe something would come to her while she unpacked her bag? She pushed the covers back and had just swung her legs over the side of her bed, when she caught sight of something on her night table and had a better idea.

Quickly reversing course and pulling the covers back over her, she reached for the notebook that had caught her attention. She and Draco had matching notebooks, and usually kept the books with them whenever they were apart. One side was a regular notebook, useful for jotting down notes in meetings or for making lists at work. The other side held blank parchment, magically charmed (hence the reason she couldn't bring her notebook with her on her trip) for communication between the two. Whatever Draco wrote in his magical notebook showed up in Hermione's, and whatever she wrote in hers showed up in his.

Among other things, he often used it to chat her up, sending messages to her like:

What are you wearing?

What color are your panties today?

I want to put my mouth on you.

You taste so good. I can't wait to have you again.

I want you to put that pretty little mouth on my cock tonight.

While Hermione usually humored him and responded, she didn't often let them go too far, and even more rarely did she initiate sexy talk. But she hadn't seen him in weeks. How hard could it be?

She opened the notebook, found a pen in the drawer of her night table, and wrote:

What are you wearing?

Okay, so it wasn't the most inventive beginning, but that was his favorite go-to, and she had to start somewhere, right?

She waited, nerves and excitement roiling in her belly like an oil slick. She wasn't sure how long it would be before he would be able to respond, so she decided she needed to do some things to get herself in the mood. Logically, if she felt sexy, it should be easier to sound and act sexy.

Getting out of bed, she wandered over to the dresser in her closet and began rummaging through her underwear drawer. She settled on Draco's favorite pair: lacy and green, with sides that tied together. After pulling them on, she walked into the bathroom. There, she tied her hair up on top of her head, loving the long line of her neck that was exposed in that hairstyle—it made her feel exquisitely feminine to see it, and the skin on her neck was so sensitive to Draco's mouth and hands. She hoped he'd use them both on her tonight.

She spritzed herself with perfume and headed back to bed. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she propped his pillow with hers behind her back. Then she noticed: he'd written back! She rolled her eyes when she saw what he'd said.

D: Granger? Is that you?

H: Of course it's me! Unless you share a two-way notebook with another woman?

Draco smirked to himself upon reading her response. He was sitting in a boring meeting with some company who was trying to woo Malfoy Industries to partner with them on a venture in Southeast Asia. Really, he couldn't be bothered to pay too much attention at meetings like these, so the details escaped him. The company was wooing his father, and he'd only come along because his father required it. And while sometimes it was fun to disobey his father, he hadn't had anything better planned at work, and he thought it might take his mind off of missing Hermione. So, of course, she came home while he was in this meeting and he couldn't leave. Well, he might have to keep his arse in the seat, but that didn't mean he had to pay any attention to what these old windbags had to say. He made sure his assistant was taking copious notes, then turned his attention to his wife.

D: Of course you're the only woman I share a two-way notebook with. You're the only woman I'd want to share one with. You just… took me by surprise (pleasantly).

You left that notebook on your night table, so that means you're home. Wish I could be there with you, Beautiful—stuck in a meeting until Merlin knows when, with a company trying to woo Father.

H: As much as this is fascinating, and as much as I want to hear—in detail—all about what you've been up to while I've been gone, all I want to know right now is one thing: What. Are. You. Wearing?

Does she want to play? I would definitely be game for that, Draco thought.

D: I'm wearing black robes—I'm at work, pretty standard. It's practically a uniform.

H: Hmm… how boring. Got anything better underneath?

D: Just an undershirt and my boxers with the snitches on them.

D: Oh.

D: And my cock. I think you usually find that interesting.

H: I do. I always find your cock interesting. There are so many things I'd like to do to your cock right now.

D: There's my naughty girl. Just wait until I get home; there's a lot of things my cock wants to do to you, too. Not to mention all the things my hands and mouth want to do.

I'll see if I can get out of this meeting early; just hold that thought and wait.

H: Why wait? I find I have some time on my hands and a VERY active imagination. It's been a terribly long three-and-a-half weeks without you.

Let's play.

Draco squirmed in his seat as his eyes widened. Holy ogres! His Hermione rarely let him get her worked up using this notebook. She liked dirty talk in the bedroom but hadn't let him use it much in writing. And now here she was, turning the tables on him. Playing sounded like a very, very good use of his time.

Giving a quick glance around to ensure no one was paying attention to him, he replied to her.


What are YOU wearing?

H: One of your Slytherin quidditch shirts and those panties with the side ties that you love.

Draco groaned to himself. He LOVED seeing 'MALFOY' emblazoned across her back when she wore that shirt. He was hers as much as she was his, but there was something primal that woke up and wagged its tail when she wore his name proudly.

And those panties! He could picture her now, probably curled up in their bed, his shirt swallowing her up, her tiny panties hidden from sight, at least for now. But he knew they were there.

He licked his lips, imagining his beautiful wife sitting in their bed, plotting how to seduce him. How cunning—his Slytherin characteristics rubbing off, combined with her natural Slytherin tendencies, made for a heady aphrodisiac for him.

As he was pondering where to begin—Merlin, the things he wanted to do with her—the decision was taken out of his hands, as she wrote to him again.

H: Cat got your tongue, Draco?

H: Or should I say… Pussy got your tongue?

Apparently, she had been practicing; where was his reserved Granger? Not that he minded, it just usually took a bit of foreplay to get her to verbally say these things, and she had never written him something like this before without some major prompting on his part.

D: What an enticing picture that makes, Granger.

D: How is your pretty pussy doing?

H: Feeling a bit neglected.

D: We can't have that, now can we? Is your pussy wet?

Hermione moved her hand down between her legs, brushing her knuckles against the inside of her knee on the way and drawing a small gasp from her mouth. She brushed the tips of her fingers against her underwear, pressing slightly into the heat she found there.

Yes. Wet enough to make my panties damp.

Draco almost groaned out loud. He licked his dry lips and shifted in his seat.

D: Let's see if we can make them a little wetter. I want to make you feel so good.

D: Take off your shirt and touch your pretty nipples. Tell me how it feels.

Hermione did as requested, pulling the hem of the too large shirt over her head. The cool air of the room felt refreshing to her overheated body. She trailed her hand along her neck and along her collarbone pretending they were Draco's fingers. She dragged her fingers down between her breasts and over to one nipple, circled around it and gave it a slight pinch. Panting a little, she wrote:

I'm achy for you. My breasts feel heavy and my nipples are hard. I think they'd like your mouth on them. Touching them isn't quite the same, but still sends electric shivers down my spine.

D: That's very good, Pet. I'm aching for you, too. My cock is so hard in my pants, I've never been more grateful for wizarding robes.

D: Tug on your nipples a bit, just the way you like. Think about how good it's gonna feel when I'm pounding into you later. Maybe I'll fuck those pretty breasts of yours, too. D: Would you like that?

Was he crazy? Of course she would like that.

She pinched her nipples harder, first one, and then the other. She pulled them out away from her body and twisted slightly, whimpering.

Merlin, that feels good. I want you.

He smirked to himself.

D: I want you, too. Always.

D: How's your pussy doing? Any wetter?

Panting harder now, Hermione took her hand off her nipple and slid it down her stomach, over the edge of her panties, sliding easily over her covered mound and coming away damp.

Quite wet now. Soaked.

D: Lick that wetness off your fingers and then let's take those panties off. Your pretty pussy needs some serious attention now.

After pulling the strings on each side of her panties, she shifted enough to pull them off, and then placed them over on Draco's side of the bed, noticing he'd given her another command.

Explore your pussy now, Beautiful. But don't touch your clit, yet. Play a little bit first and find what feels good, just like I love to do.

She snorted. She'd touch her clit if she felt like it! She reached down to do just that, before remembering that the buildup and eventual orgasm would be so much better if she didn't give in now.

She ran her fingers between her labia and down toward her opening. She circled a finger around it, jolting a little at the contact. She easily slid two fingers inside and eagerly started pumping in and out, feeling her inner walls grasping at them.

Oh my, Merlin!

H: Draco… Oh… I wish… I wish you were here.

D: I wish I was there, too, Sweetness. Have you got your fingers busy on that beautiful pussy? How many fingers can your greedy pussy take?

Two so far, was all she was able to write before focusing on the sensations Draco's writing and her hand were accomplishing.

Can it take one more? Circle your clit and I bet your pussy will fit another finger easily.

She took his suggestion, crying out at the slightest touch to her sensitive clit.

H: Oh, God.

H: So good. I'm almost there.

She placed the notebook to the side so she'd still be able to read it, but it would be out of her way. She kept pumping the fingers of one hand into her throbbing pussy while her other hand worked her clit.

She tossed her head from side to side, working single-mindedly toward her orgasm.

D: That's it, Beautiful. Let go. Come for me. Your fingers feel so good in that pussy, don't they?

D: Keep rubbing that clit. It's so slippery.

D: Look at how wet you are. Greedy for more, aren't you? Such a greedy cunt you have.

D: I'm going to give it to you so good tonight, Granger. You're gonna cum so much.

D: I'm so hard thinking about you and all the ways we're going to take each other tonight. My cock is so hard for you; I'm like steel thinking about how good you feel.

D: I'm going to fuck and fuck and fuck you tonight. Over and over. Until neither of us can move.

He knew she was close, hoped he was timing his writing correctly. He thought about what else she might need to get to that ultimate goal.

Merlin, she was SO close. She rubbed her clit faster, holding her breath. She was… almost…. she just needed… what did she need?

I love you, Granger.

That was it.

With a shout of his name she came, seeing stars behind her tightly closed eyelids.

No one makes me feel like you do. I love you, Draco.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the story. Please take a second and review!