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~*~*~ [Severus' POV] He has not yet lived five years upon this earth, but he is already his father's son in every way. Pure sensuality, less innocent than any child his age has a right to be. Little Draco is the mirror image of Lucius as a boy; he echoes and reflects his father's irresistible allure. Whenever I visit Lucius, my friend and lover since childhood, at Malfoy Manor, Draco flirts with me as shamelessly as his father, his attentions too sublime to be mere imitation. Tonight is no exception. Soon after my arrival, Draco is curling feline and seductive on my lap, wiggling his little bottom saucily against the hardness I blush scarlet to admit is rising there. Fluttering his lashes at me, whispering, "I love you, Severus," in lilting, lisping tones. Rose petal lips part so sweetly as I bend and catch the fragrance of his silky platinum hair, and he lifts his angelic face for kisses, which he already prefers on that tender, moist little mouth. It amuses Lucius no end to see me struggle to maintain composure, to do what is right in the face of such temptation. He wickedly encourages Draco's ardour towards me, and often pulls me into a deep kiss with Draco still nestled between our bodies, cooing with pleasure at our closeness and our heat. Lucius won't allow anyone else but him to bathe Draco, not even the child's mother Narcissa, who seems more interested in parties and her fancy friends than her husband and son anyway. He frequently calls me into the bathroom, ostensibly to converse, when he strips and gets into the sumptuous marble bathtub with Draco, cradling the boy gently in the foamy, lilac-scented water, caressing hands lingering over the young one's nether regions as Lucius washes Draco, causing the child to gasp in rapture and raise his slender hips for more. "You're Daddy's little lover, aren't you, darling?" Lucius purrs as the child giggles, clear grey eyes fixed mirthfully upon the shocked expression on my face, and nods vigorously. "And he's hot for you too, Sev," Lucius adds devilishly as I swiftly exit the room, not wishing to reveal my discomfort, my flushed red face, and my very visible erection, swollen and wet-tipped at the enticing sight of father and son all damp and warm and close. After his bath, Draco likes to run around nude for as long as possible, under the lecherous, appraising eyes of Lucius and my own abashed yet longing gaze. Every line and curve of that delightful little form is absolute cherubic perfection. Even when the child is finally persuaded to get dressed, his nightclothes are so sheer and wispy that he might just as well still be bare. He is hypnotic, weaving a spell around my heart and my cock with neither wand nor potions, exactly the same way his father once did, still does, and always will. No ordinary child could ever affect me this way. But Draco is not an ordinary child - and neither was Lucius, even in the earliest days of our youth. Before we were old enough to fully know what sexual desire was, Lucius had a way of touching me, smiling at me, leaning over me as I sat or slept so his already flowing blond tresses would sensuously brush my cheek, that seemed to ignite a flame in my very blood. Drowsy at bedtime, little Draco is still teasing and flirtatious. As I kiss him goodnight on his baby-soft cheek, he whines, "Not there, Sevvie!" I obediently give him a small peck on his cupid-bow lips, causing him to turn to his smirking father and declare with a mock pout and a naughty, playful light in his eyes, "Daddy, Sev's being silly!" Lucius raises one pale eyebrow and replies, with the same mischievous gleam in his own eyes that shines from those of his son, "Oh? And how, pray tell, is Sev being silly?" "He's not kissing me right. Not using his tongue like you do," Draco titters, reaching up to pull his father closer. "Then we'll just have to show him how to kiss properly, won't we, little dragon?" Lucius whispers, and passionately kisses Draco on his open mouth while I watch, scandalised yet aroused. They are so alike, so carnal yet so pure, exquisite and damned and perfect in their forbidden embrace. And then Lucius breaks the kiss and captures my stunned lips as he previously did his son's willing ones, the older Malfoy's tongue ensnaring mine as I nearly swoon at his intoxicating beauty. Amidst the pulsing of my own blood in my ears, I hear the silvery laughter of the delighted child... This is a game to them, its rules written, broken and re-written by both Malfoys as they go along. A conspiracy between them, dragging me into the frightening yet luscious trap they set. Veiled by their tenderness, their carefully feigned innocence. True innocence could never be in the nature of a Malfoy... Not even in the early hours of the morning can I rest; throughout the night's long darkness I must slake my rampant lust with the flesh of my beloved Lucius. Grasping fistfuls of his magnificent, lustrous hair as he slithers onto all fours for me to thrust within him. Never taking my eyes from his flawless, naked body as I mount his lubricated hardness, screaming my insatiable need for him as he grips my pelvic bones and pounds into me from below. Visions of Lucius entwined with little Draco swim through my head each time I try to close my eyes. When I finally reach my ultimate climax, I am not even conscious of whose name I cry - the father's, the son's or both. Whichever it may be, it provokes a sensual, demonic laugh from Lucius as he draws me tightly into his arms, licking and biting my neck before whispering, "Nobody but a Malfoy can ever completely satisfy you, Severus. Remember that..." And it is true. I would be wretched, a mere shell of a wizard, without the sweet, addictive Malfoy poison in my soul that has enslaved me beyond redemption to Lucius and his little son. It is only Draco's extreme youth and his childishness that have so far spared the boy the attentions of my inflamed desire. But when Draco grows old enough to be my student, I may not be able to restrain myself, my wanton cravings, any longer... Or so Lucius Malfoy hopes. ~ Fin. back? |