The Quidditch Pitch

Hermione and Cho "It's just like riding a bicycle," Cho said before pushing off with her feet. "You close your eyes, push on the ground with your feet, and go..."

They're up in the air -- higher than the astronomy tower, higher than the tallest tree in the forest, higher than most Muggle buildings. Hermione can occasionally see someone down on the ground, ant-sized and unable to see the two girls sharing a broomstick, Hermione's arms around Cho's waist, both of them straddling a single broomstick.

It's firm between her legs, firm and comfortable and her knickers are riding up as breezes toy with her skirt. She's pressed tightly against Cho, breasts against her strong back, arms wrapped around her slim and muscled stomach. Cho's feathery close-cropped hair is brushing against her cheek and she leans in closer, afraid to let go -- but not from fear of falling.

Cho laughs and spins them around, maneuvering the broom with ease. She gestures a certain way and the broom goes up up up, the weight and pull of g-forces on Hermione's skin reminding her of rollercoasters and airplanes. It pulls her away from Cho, just a little, and she finds herself overcompensating, pulling herself closer and closer, so that, when Cho switches and they go into a sharp dive, she's so pressed up against Cho that there's not an millimeter of space between them. Crushed close and tight and she shifts slightly and the broomstick is pressing up right there and Hermione's sure Cho can feel her nipples pressing into her back.

Cho pulls out of her dive scarcely a meter off the ground -- Hermione can feel the grass touch the tips of her toes -- and leisurely performs a few rounds around the field. Hermione's still clutching Cho tightly, her hips slightly moving back and forth on the broomstick, riding it and riding it. She thinks Cho doesn't notice, but then Cho pulls in closer to the ground, close enough for her feet to touch it, and she turns just enough to look at Hermione.

"What are you doing?" she asks, looking at her quizzically.

Hermione blushes and moves her arms away from Cho's waist. "N-Nothing..." she says. "Sorry..."

Cho shakes her head just a little and smiles. "No, you're not," she whispers before climbing off the broomstick. Hermione moves to climb off as well and Cho shakes her head, pushing Hermione back down onto the broom. "Stay there," she says, leaning in close. Hermione can smell the orange blossom perfume Cho likes to wear as Cho nuzzles her neck, wrapping her arms around her even as Hermione squirms on the broomstick. "Ride it," Cho whispers into her ear.


"Ride the broomstick. For me." One of Cho's hands is wrapped around Hermione's waist, supporting her, and the other is slinking up her shirt and cupping a breast. Cho's lips flutter over Hermione's neck, her tongue tracing the pulse. "Ride it," she whispers again.

Hermione closes her eyes and moans softly as Cho licks up her neck. Cho's fingers are deftly sliding under her bra and Hermione's hips seem to have a life of their own, rocking back and forth on that well polished hardness between her legs.

It's slow, it's sultry, and Cho keeps whispering dirty things into her ear as she plays with her nipple. Hermione hasn't done anything like this since she was eleven and first trying to figure out what those strange feelings in her stomach were, but now it feels so good and feels so right and when she finally breaks into shudders against Cho's body, it's surprising, an orgasm seemingly out of nowhere, coming up so softly and slowly that she doesn't realize what's happened until it's over.

Cho holds her tightly and kisses her gently, her lips sticky with strawberry lip gloss and her tongue tasting of lemons.