Innocent Remus

Part Four

Remus is good at a lot of things.

He's a good student, a good friend, a good leader. One thing he is not good at, however, is admitting his feelings. Especially to you.

He hasn't told you yet, and he knows it's not a good idea to keep these feelings bottled up - but he just can't help it. Every time he's in your room it's like he has tunnel vision, and that vision is to make you cum over and over until you're crying.

And it's not his fault - it's the way you look up at him all prettily, eyes wide and mouth so inviting - that he can't help but put his lips on yours and then he doesn't remember anything at all except the way you squirm under his body.

And it's not his fault - it's the way you look up at him all prettily, eyes wide and mouth so inviting - that he can't help but put his lips on yours and then he doesn't remember anything at all except the way you squirm under his body.

His head throbs as he thinks about it; he's in his bed now, everyone went to breakfast but he decided to sleep in and he's regretting it now because he can't get his mind off of stupid you and the way your stupid, pretty lips looks wrapped around his stupid cock.

And he's hard now. Great.

He sighs, sticking his hand down his boxers to grab his cock, grunting as his other hand pulls down his underwear.

"Fuck," He whispers as his hand starts to steadily stroke himself. He hasn't really done this alone in a while, but he remembers very clearly the last time he did it with you.

—

A couple of nights ago Remus had made his way to your room, needy and desperate to be with you after a long day of exams.

"I just wanna see how you do it," You elaborate, maneuvering your body to the foot of the bed. You spread your legs to give Remus a view of the in between, panties covering your core but Remus can see the darker spot in the center and his mouth waters. It's still a shock to him that you're turned on by him - a tall, lanky, scar covered boy where the only thing going for him is his brains - but apparently that's your type.

His cock is out from where you were pumping it a few moments ago. But you had stopped, looked at him after kissing the stress from his body and asked if he'd do it himself. His eyes widened and he let out a breathless what?

And he's touched himself before, obviously, but having another pair of eyes on him - your eyes, nonetheless - has him fidgeting nervously. It doesn't help you're looking at him so intensely, the dim lighting in the room doing nothing to hide the lust in your eyes or the slick from your cunt as you pull your panties down your legs.

"What're you going to do?" He asks, voice breathless.

"I'm going to watch," You deadpan, propping yourself on one hand as your legs resume their spread position. "And we're going to touch ourselves."

And the way you said it was so dirty, so perverted that he couldn't ignore the way his cock twitches and the way his stomach clenches.

So he waits until you start, until your hands travel to your pussy, wet and puffy and Remus wishes it was his hands instead of yours.

"Please talk," He begs, hand slowly traveling up his length to squeeze the head, thumb swiping the precum gathered at the tip, bringing his hand back down to spread it along his cock. His body buzzes from his teasing and the way you don't tear your eyes off of his hand.

He's come to learn that he loves when you talk to him - when he makes his way to his dorm after spending the night with you he'll think about the hours prior, remembering things said between sweaty breaths and throaty moans, and he'll blush because it's so nasty almost - but he'll always beg you to talk to him more.