The Real Thing Is Better
Two summers after her seventh year, Hermione was followed around by the twins who asked her to help them keep the books for their joke shop. They had expanded greatly, having 7 stores throughout Europe and they just didn't have time to keep after the books. She reluctantly agreed. They allowed her the use of the flat above the shop since they normally traveled from one shop to the next and were very rarely there. On days they were in town, they stayed at the burrow to have a chance to see family.
Hermione had taken a liking to the job and happily lived above the shop. She even went down during the day to help stock and ring up customers. The only problem was she felt lonely. Harry and Ginny were married and barely left the bedroom when they weren't at work, both being aurors or course. Ron had married a nice muggleborn named Nancy who was exceptionally bright and kept him in line. She was glad her friends were happy but couldn't help but wonder when she would find that man whom she was meant to be with, or in truth, when she would be able to tell the man she fancies how she truly feels.
Yes, Hermione was in love, with a man whom nobody would believe. When they say opposites attract, they hit it right on the head. It became increasingly hard living in the flat because she felt uneasy about rubbing away her own tension. At night, she would lay in bed, thinking about the one she wanted, and attempt to touch herself, but she always stopped because she felt so awkward being in the twins flat.
One evening she decided she couldn't take it anymore. It had been nearly a year since she had been physical with a man and she needed some release. She went into the bedroom, lit candles all over the room, unsure why. It's not as though she had to seduce herself, she was a ready and willing participant. She turned on some muggle piano music and laid on the golden satin bed sheets. To help herself along, she placed a large moving picture of her desire on the ceiling so she could look up at it.
The picture was bright, contrasting to the dark maroon ceiling and walls. It was taken this summer when Ron, Nancy, Harry, Ginny, Fred, George, and she had decided to go swimming in the pond by the burrow. Her love interest was there, and he was gorgeous. He had no shirt on; he wore maroon trunks that went perfectly with his red hair and the freckles that covered his whole body. Maroon was his favorite color, which would be why his walls were painted in the exact shade he loved so much. Did I forget to mention that Hermione had taken to sleeping in Fred's room, in his bed, which still had his smell buried deep down in the pillows? Yes! Hermione fancied Fred!
Hermione laid on the bed, looking up at the picture. He had just stepped out of the water, droplets of it still clinging to his muscular chest. She had been the one to take the picture, knowing it would come in use in the future. She could remember the flustered feeling she had that day when he grabbed her around the waist and threw her into the water. She felt that sensation again looking at the picture. She slowly unbuttoned the front of Fred's shirt she had gotten out of the closet. She slept in his shirts all the time. It was blue, matching his eyes perfectly. She reached inside the open shirt and massaged her own breast, imagining it was his hand touching her.
She kept looking up at the picture, his hair was dripping wet, plastered to his head for only a moment before he shook it and looked over at Hermione and smiled for the picture. His smile melted her. As he smiled, she ran her other hand down her stomach, barely touching it on the way down. She felt her body heat up at the thought of his hand performing the same movements. She reached her panties and slowly pulled them to the side, sliding her fingers into the wet folds of her sex. She moaned slightly and arched into her own touch.
As her fingers rhythmically rubber her swelling clit, her eyelids closed, allowing her mind to take her into her fantasy. She imagined him walking in and finding her in his bed, wearing his shirt and masturbating to his picture. She wanted him to be there, and feel his hands on her. She let her fantasy play out in her head, pretending it was his hands she felt roaming her body and pleasuring her. In it he wore nothing except his maroon boxers that she loved so much.
Her fantasy was becoming so realistic, her imagination running away with her. His smell was now stronger and the hands that were caressing her stomach were more calloused than hers. She could hear his breath like he was standing there. She kept her eyes closed, afraid the sensations would stop. She felt him bring her hands above her head, placing them on the cherry wood headboard. She wrapped her fingers around it edge of it and concentrated on the feeling of his hands, calloused but gentle as they left trails of fire in the wake of their feather touches. She almost felt the bed dip with his weight as he climbed on top of her, felt his breath on her face before his lips touched hers.
She couldn't help it anymore, the feelings were too real, and her eyes shot open. There was no one there. She was alone in his room. She couldn't believe her fantasy had become so vivid. She closed her eyes back and continued her ministrations. Her fantasy started again. She heard the door open and close as she heard his footsteps fall closer and closer to her. She felt his calloused hands on her body and her hand reach up for the headboard. Again she felt the bed dip, and his body on top of hers. She could smell his sweet scent. It was like being in the woods. He smelled so natural, so manly. Just his scent nearly sent her over the edge. She couldn't stop now, and she forced herself to hold her eyes closed and see where her imagination took her.
This time he didn't kiss her, he had his face close to her body and she felt his breath along it, teasing her without ever touching her. She felt his lips finally on her stomach, down her thigh and then, nothing. The dip in the bed rose, as though he stood up. She almost opened her eyes, but held them tightly shut, not wanting to lose him. She felt his hand start on her cheek and lightly caress all the way down to her toes. She tried to arch into his touch, wanting to feel more.
"Hermione you look so beautiful in my shirt."
Her eyes shot open again, and there before her, stood Fred. He wasn't in his swim trunks, but in a pair of jeans and a button up maroon shirt that looked as though it was made for him.
"Fred, I'm sorry. I..." Hermione let her words trail off at remembering what he said. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"Yes Hermione, I do." He smiled at her thoughtfully. His eyes made a trail over her body again and she realized she was still exposed. She went to cover herself, but Fred gently shook his head and smirked.
"Mione, you apparently wanted something to happen, otherwise you wouldn't be in my bed, in my shirt, and attempting to satisfy yourself with a fantasy of me."
"Fred, I am so embarrassed." Hermione turned her head away from him, and closed her eyes, hoping he disappeared. She felt his hand on her cheek turning her back over.
"Hermione, don't be. How about we act out that fantasy of yours?"
"Fred please don't play with me. I am just going to go to my parents." Hermione went to stand up, but Fred held her down.
"I'm not playing. I've wanted this for a while. I've been in that same position as you, wishing you would just show up and give yourself to me. I had a picture of you from that same day. You were wearing a golden yellow bikini." He had noticed the picture. "How about we find out how good the real thing is instead of continuing our fantasies?"
He leaned down and lightly kissed Hermione's lips. She moaned into it, the electricity she felt overpowering her mind. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him a bit deeper into the kiss. He gently traced her lips with his tongue, begging for access to her warm, wet mouth. She allowed it and the way his tongue massaged against hers elicited a moan from them both. It was at that moment they threw caution to the wind and started exploring each others bodies.
Fred looked deep into Hermione's hazel eyes while rubbing his hands up and down her body, judging her most sensitive spots by the moans, the arching of her back, and the look on her face. He then went back to those spots that provoked the most reaction and teased and tormented her with nibbling and suckling with his mouth. Hermione arched in a silent plea for him to touch her more, to bring his body against hers so she could feel him on every inch of her. She, knowing she couldn't maneuver her hands quick enough, used her wand to charm away Fred's clothes down to his boxers, which were the same color blue as the shirt she was wearing. They were silk and the softness of the material grazed over her skin, bringing forth a guttural moan that she had tried to hold back.
Fred smiled at the way she was causing herself that much more anguish and was pleased to see it was because of him. Truth be told, he had wanted her for ages but never thought the intelligent, beautiful, witty witch could ever want him in return. Boy was he ever wrong! He would have to thank George for sending him to the flat to get something he had forgotten. He had heard the music and moaning coming from the bedroom, and couldn't stop his curiosity from taking over. He seen her lying on the bed, pleasuring herself and noticed she was wearing his shirt. He had to go over; he couldn't stop his feet from making their way to the bed. He was glad.
Now, with their near naked bodies pressed flush against each other, Fred began kissing Hermione very heatedly. He gently slid the arms of his shirt off of her and threw the shirt in the floor; he pulled away from her lips, allowing them to form a trail down her jaw, across her neck, down the valley between her breasts, allowing a small nibble and flick of his tongue over both of the hardened nipples. He wouldn't let her have too much, knowing her body was nearly convulsing from the want of his hands on her body. He continued kissing further down her stomach, to the elastic of her panties, which were white and lacy. They contrasted so well against her tanned skin; he almost hated to take them off of her. He gently kissed right over her panties, pressing only hard enough for her to feel a gentle pressure on her sex, but not enough to please her. She nearly whimpered at the lack of pressure that she craved so much.
He pulled the white panties slowly down her legs, making sure not to touch her too much. He wanted to tease her, make her so hot, so ready, and so wet that she will barely be able to hold back once he does finally give her what she is wanting. He trails butterfly kisses down her legs, following the very damp panties he removed.
"Fred, please, I want to feel you touch me." Hermione said quietly, her voice almost mouse-like.
"Be patient, love, you'll get what you want, but I am having fun right now. I love the look of passion and want on your face. I don't want it gone yet." Fred smirked slightly at the small 'humph' sound that Hermione let escape her lips.
Fred continued the light kisses, down her feet, and when he started back up he allowed his tongue to trail, instead of his lips. It gently licked and flicked across her calves, her thighs, and the closer he got to the joining of her legs, the higher she arched into the air, silently begging for him to touch her. He smiled when he reached the destination she longed for him to touch. She whimpered when she felt him blow lightly on her wet folds. He gently flicked his tongue over her and tasted her sweet juices. Then he did what she had been begging for him to do. He started rhythmically massaging her clit with his tongue; he used his fingers to spread her folds so he could gain better access to her throbbing center.
Hermione moaned with the touch of his tongue on her. Her body bucked in pleasure with the pumping of his tongue. She felt her stomach start to tighten and warmth spread through her body as she neared her climax. She grabbed his long red hair in her fingers and cried his name as her body shook, riding out the orgasm. Fred pulled himself up to kiss her as her orgasm faded away, leaving her still wanting more. She could taste herself in his kiss, and loved that he had tasted her so thoroughly. Her want rose in her again as she felt his erection press against her stomach through the very thin silk boxers that he was wearing. She reached down and gently stroked it through the material, knowing that the silk would increase the sensation he felt. He bit down on her lip at the contact. He rolled over onto his back and slid his boxers off, wanting to feel her hand against him, no barriers in the way.
Hermione gently grazed her nail over the head of his erection and watched as it jumped slightly with pleasure. She decided to not tease him as he did her, and just took his entire member into her mouth. He gasped at the warmth that surrounded him. He lay back; his hands entwined in her still somewhat bushy brown hair and enjoyed the sensations that were bringing forth moans.
"Oh Merlin, Hermione you fell so good!"
Hermione smiled at the thought that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She sped up, and massaged the length of his erection with her tongue. She sucked and hummed when she got closer to his base, and took his balls in her hand, massaging them gently. She could feel his muscles tense up, letting her know he was getting close. She prepared herself and swallowed the salty fluid that started shooting into her mouth. Fred convulsed on the bed, moaning out her name, gripping her hair tightly out of reflex.
Hermione, after being certain he had let all of his seed out, slowly kissed up his body, flicking her tongue across his rock hard nipples, and up his neck to his lips. She laid her head on his chest and waited for his breathing to calm down a bit. She leant up and looked at him, his eyes full of passion, surely matching hers. He pulled her face in to kiss her and the passion between them built up again, even stronger than before. Hermione felt the ache in her stomach, needing him to be inside her. She could feel the wetness between her thighs.
Fred couldn't believe this amazing woman would want him, the jokester, the goof off, the twin. He snaked one of his legs between hers, applying pressure to her sex, feeling the moist heat covering his leg. Hermione grinded onto his leg, loving the feel of his muscular leg between her own. At the feeling of her grinding, Fred's member started hardening and standing tall. Hermione felt it and moaned at the touch of it on her stomach, wanting to feel it inside her.
Fred maneuvered himself between Hermione's legs and caressed her opening with the head of his throbbing erection. The sensation elicited moans from both of the lovers. Hermione lifted her hips upward, wanting Fred inside her, filling her up. He was a bit larger than the others she had been with and was excited that she would get to be with someone who wasn't built like a boy, but instead a powerful man.
Fred felt her try to get him to enter her, and made her wish reality. He attempted to slowly enter her, knowing he was rather large; he didn't want to hurt her. Hermione, being as controlling as she is, would have none of that. She lifted her hips again, and forced him to thrust all the way to the hilt. Hermione gasped at the feeling that went through her.
At the sound of his name on her sweet lips, Fred pulled nearly all the way out and thrusted back in. Hermione cried his name again, panting. He started moving a bit faster, not pulling out as far, but enough to elicit moans of pleasure from Hermione. After several minutes Hermione rolled them over so she was on top of Fred. She looked at him with lust-filled eyes, and started to slowly ride him. She moved her pelvis in a circular pattern, causing Fred's eyes to roll upward into his head. He moaned her name as she sped up. He started rubbing her clit with his fingers while gripping the headboard with his free hand.
Hermione could feel her orgasm building with Fred rubbing her at the same pace as her riding him. It sent amazing chills through her body. Fred felt her walls tightening around him, and nearly allowed himself to give in. He held out, wanting to wait until Hermione had been fulfilled. She laid her hands on his chest and started lifting herself up and down onto Fred's staff and felt her self give way to her climax. She shook against him and cried out. He couldn't hold it anymore. After he felt her come covering him inside her, he lost control and allowed his seed to pump out of the end of his shaft. Hermione collapsed on top of Fred, him still inside her.
She slowly rolled to the side of him and laid her head back on his chest. Soon, their breathing became steady and they fell asleep, Hermione in his arms, their legs intertwined.
When the suns rays filtered in through the window and brought Hermione out of the amazing nights sleep, she looked at the man laying next to her, holding her tightly. She charmed away the picture above the bed, having forgotten it the night before.
She whispered to herself before cuddling back into his chest, "The real thing is definitely better."