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Dear Cellar,

I pray you are not cross, but I admit I named that particular specimen after you. No-one shall ever know save you and I.

I do so love a journey of discovery. It may have spelled my end once, but here it encourages nothing but life.

Until Wednesday.

Yours sincerely,
Harry

[ if only he could hear her little squeal. now she waits for Wednesday and carefully makes a list of movies that won't a. instantly earn his disapproval or b. break his brain with some convoluted plot.

she also picks out some cute and sexy underwear to wear. you know, just in case. ]

[Harry makes his own list - hope you like nature documentaries, Cellar.

His underwear is boring, though.]

[ He gives her documentaries, she shows him Love Actually, and then they leave the little theater where she slips her fingers between his, walking hand in hand. Cellar's not exactly one to wear a shy smile for this long, but that's just the Goodsir effect, she supposes. She's not that shy when she asks, ]

So, do you... wanna take me back to your room, maybe?

[He goes pink in the face, but he doesn't stutter when he replies in a soft voice.]

Mine is unfortunately off limits for what I'd like to do for you.

As is yours, I assume?

Not necessarily, [ A but in the way she leaves it there, then hums, looking around to think. Then she smiles, a little mischievous. ] This place has tons of rooms. Bet we could find an empty one and make it ours?

[ Even if it's just for the day. Or night. ]

I believe we could.

[Hand in hand until he lets go to open a door to one of the many parlours. He looks in and then smiles, holding the door open like a proper gentleman.]

This one is usually empty. I read here rather often.

...and the door locks.

[ She doesn't think she'll ever stop feeling charmed, led inside, taking Harry's hand as soon as it's free again, looking around like it's all new. Maybe it might as well be, since she's seeing it as his space. Her eyes back on him, ]

Show me your favorite spot?

[The room is not large, and is quite typical of an old English parlour. The space is taken up by a wingback chair near the window, a chaise along the adjacent wall, a low round table, and a bookshelf.

Harry locks the door behind them and then walks into the room proper. He stands beside the chair and places his hands on its back.]

Here. If you sit and look out, you can see the grounds slope toward the forest. You can watch for birds, and small mammals.

Would you like to see?

Yes, please.

[ A little pink in her cheeks, a sweet murmur of enthusiasm and affection for him as she steps over and turns around to sit, nape on the cushioned back to look up at him, then ahead at the promised view. It doesn't disappoint. ]

[Harry lets Cellar settle before he steps to the left. One of his hands gently moves Cellar's hair aside. He leans down and places soft kisses along her neck.]

[ Her eyes shut, she lets out a soft exhale, skin shivering sweetly under his kisses. She tilts her head, gives him access, and her fingers find their way into his curls, massaging gently.

Remembering their first time feels like it belongs in a different universe. It was fun, yes, but the buildup was nothing like this. It feels a little magic, now. She's smiling at the thought when she turns her head to kiss him on the lips. ]

[Harry has come a long way in how he handles intimacy, but he still feels his face heat up when Cellar's lips first touch his. In spite of that, he kisses back easily enough, letting it heat up naturally. By the time he pulls his mouth away he's feeling very warm indeed.

Harry unbuttons his coat and slips it off, folding it before he sets it on the table. He turns back to Cellar, hands on the buttons of his vest.]

Cellar, I should very much like to please you. Would you like to stay in the chair, or lay upon the chaise?

[ They're not just flushed — her cheeks are warm, watching Harry like every button he slips with his fingers is the very center of all her focus. Her fingers are a little tight on the armchair, her legs rubbing together as she adjusts her posture. ]

We could start here.

[ And take it elsewhere when it's her turn to give him everything. She doesn't intend to leave this room until she does. ]

... I was thinking about you last night.

Were you?

[He sounds genuinely surprised. His vest joins his coat and then he returns to the chair, going to his knees in front of Cellar.

His hands rest lightly on the tops of her thighs as he looks up at her, smiling.]

Good thoughts, I hope.

[ What is it about him that makes her feel like it's her first time? Normally she's so eager to actively participate, like she's lesser if she doesn't, but now she just... wants to let him lead. ]

Really good thoughts.

[ She reaches down, caresses his face. ]

Is it too much if I say I touched myself?

Not at all.

[Harry has such a soft, lovely voice. He lowers his face to her knees, kissing each before his hands skate up her thighs, pushing her skirt ahead of them.]

I'm very fortunate to have such an effect.

[His lips trail after his hands, angling inward on one thigh. His beard scrapes gently against her skin.]

Although I do hope the reality lives up to the fantasy.

[ She parts her legs for him, watches her skirt ride up her thighs as his hands explore soft skin. Her fingers are in his hair now, grinning as his beard tickles, anticipation stirring her senses low on her stomach, warmth pooling down to her navel.

A part of her will always have a pinch of uncertainty as to how people will react to finding the soft swell in her panties, but — Harry's seen all of her before; he touched Mila everywhere, treated her like a lover even when she'd dressed up in a silly costume. She trusts him completely.]

Harry… I don't think you could disappoint anyone if you tried.

Oh, no. I often did.

[A soft laugh between her thighs before he nuzzles against the bulge in her panties. His hands rest on her hips as he rubs his face against her, inhaling deeply.

He mouths her through her underwear, tongue pressing eagerly against her. It doesn't take long to soak the fabric.]

[ Hard to believe him when he presses his nose against her like that, when he touches Cellar like she's — being worshipped, somehow, or discovered like she's something wonderful. There's a soft whimper when his mouth draws a circle around her bulge, when his tongue feels warm and leaves her panties wet where they begin to strain against the fabric, as if searching him back. Fingers curl on the armchair again, taking a deep breath like she's bracing herself, controlling herself, legs shifting as she leans back and sinks a little, eyelids fluttering shut. ]

[It's only then that he lets his fingers find the elastic of her panties and slide them down. He puts his mouth against the inside of her thigh when he speaks.]

Tell me if it's not alright.

[Because he's going to touch her with one hand before putting his mouth on her again, eager to taste. He licks along soft flesh, then smiles.]

I've thought of you often.

[ She smiles back at him, an exhale to release some of the tension, watching her panties slide down and her cock emerge, soft and twitching lightly in anticipation. Tell me if it's not alright, and she wants to tell him she also doesn't think that's possible, but he gets a nod anyway. His hand is so warm, he touches her like he knows her like a familiar lover, and then his lips and tongue to relearn the shape and taste of her and make her whimper. ]

Y-yeah?

[ Her body responds to him, skin slightly taut, nipples perking up under her bra. She brings a hand up to cup her breast over her shirt, squeezing lightly. ]

Tell me about it?

Mmhmm.

[He drags his tongue up her shaft before wrapping his hand around her again so that he can stroke while he talks.]

For example... I saw you at breakfast the other day. Your hair was pulled back. I spent the rest of my morning thinking of your neck, of the angle of your jaw. Before lunchtime came I had to... to see to myself.

[He shifts to kiss a line up from her pelvis to her navel, stroking her the whole time.]

I could— [ A little falter in her voice, his tongue warm and her hips slowly moving with his strokes, ] I could do that again. For you?

Pull your hair back? Oh, that would be lovely.

[His tongue drags its way back down. He takes Cellar into his mouth properly, wet and hot, swallowing her down.

He's had enough practice by now.

He pulls back and off just long enough to smile up at her. Then he's back to finding a pleasing rhythm with mouth and hand.]

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