Shaking with the kind of need he hadn't felt since his teenage years, Harry reached out with his left hand to shove Snape's jacket and shirt tails up out of the way so he could see the man's arse.
The skin there was just as pale as his belly, whiter than fresh-fallen snow. Snape's butt had little flesh on it, and was rather flat, but it was still surprisingly attractive. Harry swallowed hard as he took in the sight, because he couldn't remember a single time that someone had offered him this so easily, with no negotiations beforehand.
Harry trembled as he worked the lid off the jar Snape had given him. He sank the fingers of his left hand into the cool, white cream. Removing a large glob of it, he warmed it in his palm and then transferred it to his right middle finger.
His hand slid into the dark mystery of the cleft between Severus' cheeks, finding the budded entrance there like a Muggle heat-seeking missile. He slicked the round bud with the lubricant, and then carefully slipped his middle finger up inside Snape.
The groan Snape released as that slender probe penetrated him slithered through Harry like a stroke to his cock.
Tight. Snape was so incredibly tight around even just his finger that it made Harry wonder if he'd even really done this before. But then he remembered how Justin had said that he'd only seen Snape leave Whispers with a partner once, and Harry realized that Snape probably didn't have sex very often.
Harry took his time. The shocked grunt Snape gave when Harry's finger flicked over his prostate rocked through him. Harry worked that secret spot, delighting in the sounds his efforts pulled from the normally restrained Snape.
When it felt like Snape had loosened up some, Harry pulled his finger out, added more of the warmed lube to it and a partner, and then carefully inserted two fingers up into Snape. Two fingers were twice as good as one, for both of them, if the cry Snape gave as Harry started to work him were anything to go by.
It took a long while before Snape was stretched enough to permit easy intercourse, but Harry didn't mind. He'd rarely had a partner who allowed him this much freedom in this particular area.
Finally, Snape felt loose enough. Which was a really good thing, because Harry was so turned on that he could barely see straight at that point.
Harry stuck his fingers back in the jar of fresh-scented cream and then quickly slathered the stuff on his cock. With a renewed sense of unreality, he positioned himself, overwhelmed by the awareness that he was about to fuck Severus Snape.
Then his cock slid past that guarding muscle, and it was all tight warmth and wild pleasure, with no room for either thought or awkwardness. Snape was an incredible, tight heat gripping every inch of him.
Snape gasped as Harry's cock slid over his prostate. Loving the sound, Harry pulled back and did it again, and again. There was no describing how incredible this felt. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced pleasure this intense, had felt this welcome inside anyone. That the person giving him this unprecedented gift would be Severus Snape was inconceivable.
Bracing himself up with his left hand on Snape's hip, Harry slid his right around Snape to collect that lovely dick into his hand.
It felt just as amazing as it had before, fitting Harry's palm as though it had been designed to specification. His hips and hand finding a mutually satisfying rhythm, Harry began to thrust, pulling all the way out before reclaiming that perfect tract. Snape moved with him like they'd been doing this for years, like their bodies knew each other from the inside out. Every time Harry would push in, Snape's butt would hump backwards to meet him, and when Harry pulled out, Snape's hips would rock forward to meet Harry's moving hand on his cock.
Snape was making these tiny, pleading noises that sounded like they were being torn out of him against his will. His head was thrown back, his long black hair flowing around his pale shoulders like a black silk curtain. And he was gasping like he couldn’t catch his breath, like whatever sensations he was experiencing were beyond his ability to handle.
Never before had Harry had a partner so in tune with him. This was more an erotic dance than a fumbling first time. That Snape could be so gloriously sensual, so utterly open to the experience blew away every preconception Harry harboured about him.
All too soon, Harry felt his balls tighten as they slapped against that flat arse. Seconds later, his nerve endings exploded with pleasure as his cock convulsed deep inside Snape.
At almost the same instant, the cock in his hand gave up its load, spraying Harry's hand and Snape's belly with the generous, sticky outpouring.
The pleasure seeming to take everything he had, Harry collapsed across Snape's back. When Snape didn't fold beneath him, Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's chest. Even under three layers of bulky jacket, shirt, and undershirt, Snape's chest was still unusually slender.
Needing something more, Harry buried his face in the crook between Snape's neck and shoulder and greedily licked the sweet skin there.
Snape shuddered in reaction. The channel gripping Harry's now deflated cock constricted around him, and to Harry's utter shock, he felt himself go hard again. Not knowing what to do, he just stayed there, wrapped around Snape. Then Snape pushed back at him, giving his cock more friction, and Harry lost all control.
Straightening back up, Harry took hold of Snape's hardening shaft and started rocking his hips again for an amazing second go round.
This encounter felt no less satisfying than the first. Harry's entire body thrilled with every forward thrust. Each time Severus' channel squeezed his cock, the resulting burst of delight that howled through Harry's system was nearly transcendental. Snape seemed equally aroused by what they were doing, were the rock hard cock in Harry's moving fist any indication.
Not surprisingly, this time took longer, but the build-up was piercingly sweet. Harry tumbled over into orgasm again, sinking back down on Snape's back while the man's cock exploded in his hand.
Feeling the intimate motions of Snape's back rising and falling with each breath he took and that heart beating madly beneath his chest, Harry simply stayed frozen in that comfortable position, letting Snape hold him up.
Harry couldn't believe it when he felt Snape give him another squeeze. He wasn't sixteen anymore – hell, had he ever come like that at sixteen? – he should have been done for the night. Maybe for the week. But against all reason and previous experience, Harry hardened again.
Deciding that this night must be some weird, erotic dream, Harry straightened back up and began to thrust again, slow and lazy this time. The shaft in his hand did not get hard again, but Snape's bum moved to eagerly meet his every thrust. When Harry came this time, it was a gentle, warm completion rather than the previous bone-melting explosions. Harry couldn't even tell if he produced any semen. All he knew was that it felt sublime.
This time when Harry gave his weight to Snape, Snape crashed to the floor.
They lay there frozen on the soft, brown rug, their bodies still locked in that sticky union as they struggled for breath.
Harry sighed in regret as his perhaps forever-limp cock slipped out of Snape. He knew that he'd never have another night like this, that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. As much as he'd savoured it, Harry really wished he could have prolonged it. But not even at the height of teenage randiness could he have gotten it up a fourth time in one night.
After a long moment, Snape rolled over onto his side, facing him.
A shiver passed through Harry as their gazes met. He could see the same awkwardness, the same disbelief that he was experiencing reflected in those inky black eyes.
Harry hadn't know what he'd expected when he'd gone home with Snape, but it certainly hadn't been the explosive sexual chemistry they'd found.
When he felt he could spare the breath, Harry began, "That was . . . . "
His words trailed off into embarrassed silence as he realized that he couldn't finish the sentence without sounding like a sentimental idiot.
He'd never seen Snape look the way he looked now, all warm and rumpled, hair askew, cheeks still flushed with pleasure. He couldn't take his eyes off his face.
Instead of scorning him as an utter fool, as part of Harry instinctively dreaded would happen, Snape gave a strangely inflected, "Indeed."
That horrible silence fell between them again.
Recognizing that if he didn't move now, he might just lay here for the rest of his life, Harry forced himself to sit up. Snape did the same beside him, as he'd known he would.
When Harry climbed to his feet to rearrange his clothing, Snape was right beside him.
His trousers up and fastened, Harry summoned his robe from the floor and shouldered into it. He could feel Snape's dark gaze following his every move.
This was why it was never a good idea to have one-night-stands with people he knew, Harry realized. The awkwardness afterwards was enough to kill a man.
Even Snape seemed completely thrown by what had occurred between them. In the past, an out-of-sorts Snape would have instantly translated into a shouting Snape, but he seemed more shocked than angry to Harry.
Harry could appreciate the feeling. It wasn't supposed to have been like that.
If this had been any man other than Severus Snape, Harry would have given voice to the conflicting feelings he was experiencing, would have let the other man know how much he'd moved him and asked to see him again. But . . . this was Snape. Harry knew Snape wouldn't want to hear any of that, not from him, so he left it unsaid.
Recognizing that manners required that he say something before Apparating away, Harry stumbled over, "Er, thanks. I, er, guess I'll see you around."
Something that might have been resignation flashed through Snape's eyes before it was quickly masked. His voice almost totally uninflected, Snape replied, "Doubtless."
Unable to stand the tension, Harry swallowed hard and said, "Well, good night, then."
He didn't know what he'd hoped Snape would say, but the softly voiced, "Good night, Potter," wasn't it.
