Flaming Christmas Puddings.
Jan. 6th, 2003 09:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reynardoWarning - the following hidden material is my entry for the HP Het Slash competition. It includes descriptions of sexual acts between older and not-necessarily-pretty characters. The following entry is definitely rated NC-17 so read at your own risk.
It could also be categorised as "slush". This is also a warning.
Flaming Christmas Puddings.
A Hagrid/McGonagall Story
(c) First paragraph and characters by J. K. Rowling. The rest is (c) Gillian Brent and entirely my fault. Nightmares you get from reading it are your problem.
Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lop-sided.
While the students ate their teas in their common rooms, the staff enjoyed a quiet repast at the top table of the hall. By ten most of the teachers had already left, but Professor McGonagall and Hagrid the Groundskeeper were deep in a discussion on the benefits and problems of studying wyverns in their natural habitat. It was only the dimming of the last of the floating candles in the Hall that alerted them to the lateness of the hour - or maybe it was the emptiness of the jug of eggnog in front of them that caught their attention.
Professor McGonagall giggled, a little tipsy from the "Teachers' Strength" tipple. "I swear, Hagrid, that you've been giving me the lion's share of this nog." "Never," rumbled the half-giant. "You're not even in lion form this evening." This cracker-level sally sent them both into a paroxysm of mirth, and the house-elves below might have been forgiven if they had questioned the identity of the two late-night drinkers.
The two put their glasses down, and Hagrid gallantly (if a bit unsteadily) stood and gently pulled the Professor's chair out for her. She rose, also a trifle precariously, and gathered her robes about her as if to sweep in a stately manner from the table and down the Hall. Alas, the house-elves must have been using one of Professor Snape's special-effect-doubling potions in the nog, for the graceful turn caught upon an edge of robe and became a very ungraceful collapse onto Hagrid, who barely managed to stop the Professor from hitting the table as she spun. She grabbed at his garb as she fell, and managed to merely fall into his arms instead of onto the floor.
Under normal circumstances Hagrid would have set her on her feet with a "There you are, Professor", and nothing more would have been said. This quantity of eggnog, however, was not normal. Their eyes met, and a blush rose in the woman's face that most would have claimed was impossible, had they not seen the earlier kiss. "Why, Rubeus, I do believe you're being quite the gentleman."
"Minerva ... I ... er..." Suddenly the large figure was stricken, and he set the witch on her feet as quickly as his befuddled actions would let him. Standing in front of her with his head down he resembled nothing more than one of her students caught in a misdemeanour and awaiting the firm McGonagall touch.
To his surprise, the touch was light and very very gentle. Her hand cupped his chin and gently lifted his face so that at least he was looking into her eyes. "Rubeus, dear, do you still feel responsible?" Her eyes were compassionate, searching his for something she knew was there. "We were both young; we had no choice. Although I regret it, I cannot feel shame. And neither should you."
Hagrid's eyes filled with tears as he clasped the woman to him. For many minutes the pair stood, motionless except for their breathing, which had settled into identical rhythms. When finally she stepped back from his arms and looked back into his eyes, it was Hagrid who bent and kissed first. It was a kiss of caring, of shared sorrows and of a deep and long-suppressed tenderness. This time when they separated, he looked, and she nodded, and they walked together from the Hall, uncaring of the stares from those paintings still awake.
Hagrid's hut seemed no distance across the lawns on this fine but cold night. The door opened to warmth and darkness, and Minerva allowed herself to be guided gently to the large bed in the corner. Fang stirred by the fire in surprise at the visitor, but merely checked the scent of the woman before returning to dreams of bones and slabs of beef. Rubeus turned to find a match to light the candles, but her hand caught his sleeve and she murmured "Don't. We don't need the light. We never did." She stood and removed her hat, then her outer robe. He could see the curves of her body very clearly in the firelight as the inner gown followed the others to the chair beside the bed. When finally she stood before him clad only in stockings and suspenders, and let her hair down, he barely avoided rushing over and leaping upon her, so great was his need. Instead, he took a deep breath, then lifted her back to the bed and stood over her, removing his coat.
Swiftly he doffed the other clothing, never taking his eyes from the vision of mature beauty in the bed. As the underclothing hit the floor, Rubeus leaned over Minerva and kissed her gently, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and biting lightly on it. She moaned and arched, seeking more contact, but he held his body up and her hands down so that her needs were unfulfilled. Using just one of the massive palms to capture her arms away from his body, Rubeus used the other to run fingers up and down her slightly rounded belly and around the soft breasts. An occasional tweak of the nipples ensured that Minerva's mind was unable to concentrate too much, before she felt his lips once more on hers. "Please, please touch me," she begged as the need for contact became urgent, so that by the time his hands started brushing over the tops of her thighs she was almost sobbing.
Her legs spread just a little and her hips again arched upwards towards the maddeningly teasing touch. "Please," she begged again, then gasped as the lips fastened around her left nipple and began sucking and biting. The combination of time, alcohol and long-suppressed need was almost too much for the woman as her body tried to follow the sensations being induced. By the time Rubeus' lips had traversed the stomach to the mound below she was wet and her muscles were already pulsing in anticipation of the promised sensations.
Giant blood he may have had, but Rubeus' arms were not quite long enough to hold Minerva's arms above her head by the time his tongue was starting to tease her thighs. His arm across her stomach at least stopped her from rising, but she was well past objecting as the tip of his tongue hit the centre of her being. It was well that the walls of Hagrid's hut had been somewhat soundproofed to prevent Fang's howls disturbing the students: their dreams would have been rather more disturbed had Minerva's cries of pleasure entered their sweet and innocent ears.
Rubeus slipped a finger inside her as he teased and licked at her clitoris, and the muscle motions he felt from her vagina promised a fair return in sensation. With a movement faster and more graceful than one would think possible he slid back up the bed and positioned himself above the woman and the head of his cock at the entrance to her vagina. He paused, looking questioningly down at Minerva's face surrounded by the halo of her hair. She smiled in agreement and reached up to grasp his shoulders and pull his body down and into hers. The feel of the organ gently stretching her open as it slid slowly inside her took her breath away, and she closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the sensation. He progressed slowly, and she was grateful for his control. When once he was deep inside her, she opened her eyes again and looked into his, her trust and gratitude obvious.
"I didn't? It didn't ... hurt?" he stammered, nervously.
"It has been a very long time," she replied, "but no. You were gentle, sweet as always, my love. Proportionally-sized but always gentle." They both smiled and she arched towards him, the movement sending the cock fully into her warmth and beyond his control. Together they moved in the time-old familiar rhythm until both their cries caused even Fang to look around and wonder at the noise. The deep-red passion spiralled up and enveloped their visions until both felt the familiar explosion of joy and glory blanketed their senses and they collapsed into each other's arms in a hot and sweaty tangle of limbs.
It could also be categorised as "slush". This is also a warning.
Flaming Christmas Puddings.
A Hagrid/McGonagall Story
(c) First paragraph and characters by J. K. Rowling. The rest is (c) Gillian Brent and entirely my fault. Nightmares you get from reading it are your problem.
Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lop-sided.
While the students ate their teas in their common rooms, the staff enjoyed a quiet repast at the top table of the hall. By ten most of the teachers had already left, but Professor McGonagall and Hagrid the Groundskeeper were deep in a discussion on the benefits and problems of studying wyverns in their natural habitat. It was only the dimming of the last of the floating candles in the Hall that alerted them to the lateness of the hour - or maybe it was the emptiness of the jug of eggnog in front of them that caught their attention.
Professor McGonagall giggled, a little tipsy from the "Teachers' Strength" tipple. "I swear, Hagrid, that you've been giving me the lion's share of this nog." "Never," rumbled the half-giant. "You're not even in lion form this evening." This cracker-level sally sent them both into a paroxysm of mirth, and the house-elves below might have been forgiven if they had questioned the identity of the two late-night drinkers.
The two put their glasses down, and Hagrid gallantly (if a bit unsteadily) stood and gently pulled the Professor's chair out for her. She rose, also a trifle precariously, and gathered her robes about her as if to sweep in a stately manner from the table and down the Hall. Alas, the house-elves must have been using one of Professor Snape's special-effect-doubling potions in the nog, for the graceful turn caught upon an edge of robe and became a very ungraceful collapse onto Hagrid, who barely managed to stop the Professor from hitting the table as she spun. She grabbed at his garb as she fell, and managed to merely fall into his arms instead of onto the floor.
Under normal circumstances Hagrid would have set her on her feet with a "There you are, Professor", and nothing more would have been said. This quantity of eggnog, however, was not normal. Their eyes met, and a blush rose in the woman's face that most would have claimed was impossible, had they not seen the earlier kiss. "Why, Rubeus, I do believe you're being quite the gentleman."
"Minerva ... I ... er..." Suddenly the large figure was stricken, and he set the witch on her feet as quickly as his befuddled actions would let him. Standing in front of her with his head down he resembled nothing more than one of her students caught in a misdemeanour and awaiting the firm McGonagall touch.
To his surprise, the touch was light and very very gentle. Her hand cupped his chin and gently lifted his face so that at least he was looking into her eyes. "Rubeus, dear, do you still feel responsible?" Her eyes were compassionate, searching his for something she knew was there. "We were both young; we had no choice. Although I regret it, I cannot feel shame. And neither should you."
Hagrid's eyes filled with tears as he clasped the woman to him. For many minutes the pair stood, motionless except for their breathing, which had settled into identical rhythms. When finally she stepped back from his arms and looked back into his eyes, it was Hagrid who bent and kissed first. It was a kiss of caring, of shared sorrows and of a deep and long-suppressed tenderness. This time when they separated, he looked, and she nodded, and they walked together from the Hall, uncaring of the stares from those paintings still awake.
Hagrid's hut seemed no distance across the lawns on this fine but cold night. The door opened to warmth and darkness, and Minerva allowed herself to be guided gently to the large bed in the corner. Fang stirred by the fire in surprise at the visitor, but merely checked the scent of the woman before returning to dreams of bones and slabs of beef. Rubeus turned to find a match to light the candles, but her hand caught his sleeve and she murmured "Don't. We don't need the light. We never did." She stood and removed her hat, then her outer robe. He could see the curves of her body very clearly in the firelight as the inner gown followed the others to the chair beside the bed. When finally she stood before him clad only in stockings and suspenders, and let her hair down, he barely avoided rushing over and leaping upon her, so great was his need. Instead, he took a deep breath, then lifted her back to the bed and stood over her, removing his coat.
Swiftly he doffed the other clothing, never taking his eyes from the vision of mature beauty in the bed. As the underclothing hit the floor, Rubeus leaned over Minerva and kissed her gently, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and biting lightly on it. She moaned and arched, seeking more contact, but he held his body up and her hands down so that her needs were unfulfilled. Using just one of the massive palms to capture her arms away from his body, Rubeus used the other to run fingers up and down her slightly rounded belly and around the soft breasts. An occasional tweak of the nipples ensured that Minerva's mind was unable to concentrate too much, before she felt his lips once more on hers. "Please, please touch me," she begged as the need for contact became urgent, so that by the time his hands started brushing over the tops of her thighs she was almost sobbing.
Her legs spread just a little and her hips again arched upwards towards the maddeningly teasing touch. "Please," she begged again, then gasped as the lips fastened around her left nipple and began sucking and biting. The combination of time, alcohol and long-suppressed need was almost too much for the woman as her body tried to follow the sensations being induced. By the time Rubeus' lips had traversed the stomach to the mound below she was wet and her muscles were already pulsing in anticipation of the promised sensations.
Giant blood he may have had, but Rubeus' arms were not quite long enough to hold Minerva's arms above her head by the time his tongue was starting to tease her thighs. His arm across her stomach at least stopped her from rising, but she was well past objecting as the tip of his tongue hit the centre of her being. It was well that the walls of Hagrid's hut had been somewhat soundproofed to prevent Fang's howls disturbing the students: their dreams would have been rather more disturbed had Minerva's cries of pleasure entered their sweet and innocent ears.
Rubeus slipped a finger inside her as he teased and licked at her clitoris, and the muscle motions he felt from her vagina promised a fair return in sensation. With a movement faster and more graceful than one would think possible he slid back up the bed and positioned himself above the woman and the head of his cock at the entrance to her vagina. He paused, looking questioningly down at Minerva's face surrounded by the halo of her hair. She smiled in agreement and reached up to grasp his shoulders and pull his body down and into hers. The feel of the organ gently stretching her open as it slid slowly inside her took her breath away, and she closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the sensation. He progressed slowly, and she was grateful for his control. When once he was deep inside her, she opened her eyes again and looked into his, her trust and gratitude obvious.
"I didn't? It didn't ... hurt?" he stammered, nervously.
"It has been a very long time," she replied, "but no. You were gentle, sweet as always, my love. Proportionally-sized but always gentle." They both smiled and she arched towards him, the movement sending the cock fully into her warmth and beyond his control. Together they moved in the time-old familiar rhythm until both their cries caused even Fang to look around and wonder at the noise. The deep-red passion spiralled up and enveloped their visions until both felt the familiar explosion of joy and glory blanketed their senses and they collapsed into each other's arms in a hot and sweaty tangle of limbs.
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no subject
Date: 2003-01-05 02:57 pm (UTC)Um, Reynardo? If you meant for this entry to be hidden, as of 6 PM, Eastern Standard, it's not --it's publically accessible. I'm typing this in as an Anonymous entry to show that I can access it without logging in. You might want to correct this if having this entry publically available wasn't your intention. Hope this helps! --Turnberry kn-kn.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-06 12:04 am (UTC)Which is why I put heaps and heaps of warnings on it. I don't mind people knowing I write slush/slash. Anything I do mind is written from a nom-de-plume.
However, my dear bouncy pooka friend, I appreciate your concern. Thank you for checking this.
no subject
Date: 2003-01-06 04:45 pm (UTC)A loud round of applause!
Date: 2003-01-15 02:25 am (UTC)From a certain red-brown bunny rabbit...
Re: A loud round of applause!
Date: 2003-01-15 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-27 03:16 am (UTC)