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“Is it in yet?” Pansy asked, craning her neck so that she could see down the line of her body.
Draco, positioned awkwardly between her spread legs, looked up and scowled. “Of course it’s not,” he snapped. “You’ll know when it is.”
She rolled her eyes and let her head fall back onto the pillow. “My mother’s going to be home soon, you might want to hurry it up.”
There was more awkward fumbling and then a litany of curses. “I can’t -- I can’t get the charm right,” Draco said with a frustrated growl.
Pansy closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Don’t bother with the charm,” she ground out through clenched teeth. Every second that Draco dallied, she felt her resolve wane. If he didn’t start soon she was liable to call the whole thing off.
“But what if you...” Draco tried to ask, “I wouldn’t want you to get...”
He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word.
“I’m on the potion,” Pansy said impatiently, bracing herself on her elbows so she could sit up and look at him.
Draco sat on his heels between her legs, looking frustrated and miserable. His half-hard cock lay heavy but limp between his thighs. If Pansy didn’t know better, she could have sworn he was pouting.
Actually, strike that. She was absolutely sure that he was pouting.
“Come on then,” she said, hoping she sounded more encouraging than annoyed. She lifted her leg so she could poke him in his thin chest with her big toe. “Chin up. We haven’t got all day.”
Draco took himself in one hand and leaned over her, hovering gracelessly as he tried to angle himself into position. Pansy lay her head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling, feeling hyperaware of odd poking and prodding she felt between her legs.
“Put your legs around my waist,” Draco instructed.
Pansy did as she was bid, thinking that if this was sex, it was sorely overrated. She felt disconnected from her body, aware of Draco’s touch but completely unable to fathom what was going on down there.
And then she felt it.
Draco let out a victorious -- if surprised -- cry and slammed his hips forward.
Pansy gasped, her body bending in two as it was ripped in half. “Fuck!” she yelled, her fingers grasping blindly at Draco’s shoulder so she could dig her nails into his skinny muscles and share the pain.
“Sorry,” Draco muttered, though he didn’t sound apologetic in the least. His hips continued to move, a slow and steady pace while his breaths became shorter and his chest turned red.
Pansy relaxed and returned her gaze to the ceiling once more. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the unfamiliar sensation, unable to decided if there was enough pleasure to balance out the initial shock of pain.
Oh well, she thought to herself as Draco’s thrusts became erratic and he began to apologize again. There was always next time.
He’d get better with practice.