The tall windows in the classroom ran nearly from the floor to the ceiling, casting long, pale rectangles of light across the stone. Draconia stood at the front of the room, her body facing the blackboard. Harry stood directly behind her, his presence a constant, warm pressure against her back. He was not touching her yet, but she could feel the heat of him through the fabric of her robes. The dust from the chalk hung in the air, a fine, white powder that coated the edges of the wooden frame and the dark surface of the board. She pressed her palm flat against the slate, her fingers spreading wide to feel the texture of the grain. Underneath her hand, the white numbers of a Transfiguration equation were smged and blurred by the pressure of her skin.
Harry reached forward and gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just above her knickers. Draconia let out a low, sharp breath as he pulled her back against his groin. He was hard, a thick, unyielding weight that pushed against her arse through the layers of their clothing. She turned her head slightly to look at the blackboard, seeing the way his shadow swallowed the light. His hands moved from her hips to her waist, pulling her even tighter against him. The friction of his trousers against her backside made her skin prickle. She felt the urge to lean back into him, to let him take the full weight of her body.
Harry moved his hands up to her ribs, sliding them under the hem of her top to find the bare skin of her stomach. His palms were warm and slightly rough, a contrast to the coolness of the room. Draconia reached back with one hand, her fingers catching in his hair as she pulled his head down toward her neck. He bit at the sensitive skin of her shoulder, a sharp, stinging sensation that made her hips twitch. He was unhurieving, his movements deliberate and heavy. He moved around to face her, but he did not let go of her waist. Instead, he guided her toward the edge of the blackboard, where the stone was slightly warmer from the afternoon sun.
He lifted her up, her thighs wrapping around his waist as he hoisted her against the wall. The sensation of his hands on her thighs was frantic, his fingers searching for the waistband of her knickers. He tugs the silk down, baring her pale skin to the cool air of the classroom. Draconia felt the sting of the cold, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his breath on her inner thigh. He knelt, his head disappearing between her legs as he used his tongue to find her clitoris. The sensation was intense, a direct, sharp point of pleasure that made her back arch away from the blackboard. She reached down, her fingers lacing through his hair, guiding him deeper into her.
The sound of his mouth on her wetness was loud in the empty room. He licked at her cunt with long, rhythmic strokes, his tongue circling the swollen nub of her clitoris. Draconia gasped, her heels digging into his back as he worked. He was thorough, his tongue probing the folds of her labia, wetting her pussy until it was slick and dripping. She felt the ache in her lower belly grow, a pulsing-need that demanded more than just his mouth. She wanted the fullness of him, the blunt weight of his cock to stretch her. She reached down and unfastened his trousers, her fingers trembling as she freed his penis from the fabric.
His cock was thick and hot in her hand, the skin of it taut and pulsing. She wrapped her fingers around the base, feeling the way he throbbed with every heartbeat. She brought him to her lips, kissing the tip of his head, tasting the salty, musky scent of him. He groaned, a low sound in the back of his throat, as he pushed himself back into her hand. He moved to stand, his movements clumsy with haste. He lifted her legs higher, her knees bent and wide, and positioned himself between her thighs. He guided his cock to her opening, the tip of him wetting her with the slickness of her own juices.
He pushed forward, the head of his cock stretching her wide as he entered her. Draconia let out a strangled cry, her head hitting the blackboard with a soft thud. He was so large, filling her completely, the sensation of him inside her both a sharp ache and a desperate relief. He began to fuck her with long, heavy thrusts, his hips hitting her with a wet, slapping sound. Each time he drove into her, she felt the weight of him deep in her womb. The friction of his cock against her vaginal walls was intense, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She gripped the edge of the wooden frame, her knuckles turning white as she held on.
He pushed harder, his pace increasing as he sought the depth of her. He was fucking her with a primal, unhurried rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of her pussy with a rhythmic, squelching sound. Draconia felt the tension building in her core, a tightness that demanded release. She watched the way his shoulders moved, the way his muscles strained under his shirt. He was focused, his eyes locked on hers as he drove himself into her over and over. The sensation of him filling her, of the way he stretched her, made her feel both vulnerable and powerful. She wanted to feel the very bottom of him, to have him hit her cervix with every thrust.
He gripped her thighs, pulling them even wider to expose the full length of her sex. He reached down and rubbed his thumb over her clitoris while he continued to fuck her, the double sensation nearly breaking her. The blunt, rhythmic pressure of his cock inside her, combined with the friction of his thumb, sent her over the edge. Her muscles clamped down on him, the walls of her pussy pulsing around his shaft. She cried out, the sound echoing against the high ceiling, as her orgasm took hold of her. He did not stop; he continued to drive into her, his own breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. He pushed himself deep one last time, his cock twitching as he released his cum high inside her.
The warmth of his seed flooded her, a hot, viscous liquid that filled her completely. She felt the pulse of him, the way he seemed to melt into her as the tension left his body. They stayed there for a long moment, the only sound the heavy, rhythmic breathing of two people in a quiet room. The sun continued to move across the floor, the light shifting slowly over the stone. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers, as the warmth of his ejaculation settled in her belly. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark and satisfied. He moved his hand to the board, his fingers tracing the chalk lines once more. He lifted his hand, and the lesson on the board is Transfiguration and she can't stop looking at it over his shoulder.