The difference between men and women (in my opinion).

Compare to "Her Fantasies" to spot the obvious differences with what two people of the opposite sex want (Not for ALL people obviously, but just in general).

Please, this story requires kinkiness and strangeness, so don't think bad of me :(

I just write it, I don't fantasize about it. It's just my take on a male's fantasy that may or may not be credible and true.

RATED M!

The class was dreary and boring, a sad way to spend a lovely and clear day. Birds mocked the confined students locked inside the nondescript and lacklustre classroom. The drone of Professor Binns was particularly monotonous: determined to subdue any restless student to a state of catatonia. All students stared sightlessly at the translucent teacher with their mouths hanging open and their heads balanced in their hands.

Neville snored slightly, drool pooling around his parted lips as Binns began talking about the Goblin rebellions and the many battles of Olaf the Irritable and the particular dates that were essential for passing the subject: no student bothered to pick up a pencil. The students' energy levels didn't exceed the act of blinking, but even that was seldom.

Malfoy stretched; his long, lithe body sore from being hunched over for so long. He ruffled his hair slightly, yawning.

His eyes passed uninterestingly over his fellow students, noting that half were asleep, a quarter of which looked comatose. The other half were either absently doodling on their scraps of parchment or staring blankly at a place in the wall behind their professor. Malfoy's eyes lazily picked out Weasley and Potter, and he rolled his eyes when he saw them playing exploding snap in one corner. He sought out the third of the trio and surprisingly saw her seat empty. The usually extremely punctual and uptight little know-it-all was elsewhere and her notes for the day, nonexistent. Undoubtedly she was in the library, her head in a book, only her frizzy halo of hair identifiable above her chosen literature.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door: a polite, but confident knock that stopped Binns in mid sentence. The spell of Binns' drawl, that seemed to literally bore students to sleep, was lifted and they slowly wakened; thinking that the pause in their ghostly teacher's lecture meant the period was over.

However, as the door opened, its creak echoing hollowly in the silent class- indicating that it was as ancient as old Binns himself- a long feminine leg appeared. The sultry fishnet tights were highly inappropriate in such a dull classroom and immediately caught the attention of every male in the room; even the professor's lucent eyes bugged out a bit. The calf was deliciously curved and the skin was honey peach and looked as soft as silk; at her feet were a pair of ankle-breaking stilettos, in cherry red. The populace of boys in the class adjusted themselves to relieve the pressure growing in their pants.

Slowly, as if in slow motion, the petite and provocative figure stepped out in front of the heavy, wooden door; her narrow heels clicking. She seemed a master at handling the precarious shoes. Her small, schoolgirl attire well and truly broke all uniform codes and norms and seemed more like what a porn star would wear for a role playing game of a sexual nature. No work would be getting done in that. At least not educational work…

Her white blouse was tied around her bust and exposed her flat, toned abdomen, complete with bellybutton piercing. Her tie was loose around her neck, and her short, pleated skirt showed her expanse of thigh and leg to the point of incredibility.

Her hair was ruffled and wild around her face, her eyes burning with fervour and cheekiness. Her glossed lips looked succulent and plump as the light glinted off them. Her hands fiddled with her long rosary, absently toying with the cross. She walked slowly and sensually down the room, her eyes locked on Malfoy's. Her hands skimmed the desks as she passed them, sometimes trailing over the shoulders of the other students sitting in them. Her head was cocked to the side, looking at him under her lashes appealingly and, seemingly, innocently. Her hair fanned across her face and she pushed it behind her ears.

Then she was standing in front of him, her hands smoothing over his table as she looked at him temptingly.

"Hello, Malfoy." She whispered, her voice was husky and low.

She leaned forward and he had a clear view down her cleavage. He stared at where the two mounds pushed up against each other in awe, his mouth hanging open. A little self-consciously, he glanced around at the other students; but they were gone. It seemed odd. The class was completely empty. And, upon closer inspection, her fishnet stockings were now a thing of the past. Had she taken them off already? If she had, he hadn't seen it. He pondered how that had happened until he felt a hot, little hand trail down his chest. He looked up into her chocolate gaze.

"Alone at last," She said breathily.

Malfoy's skin prickled with goose bumps and his blood pooled more rapidly downwards.

Down boy. This isn't normal.

Hermione eased herself onto his desk, her skirt riding higher up her thigh and Malfoy's eyes traitorously tracked its movement. She swung her leg around, right over his head to rest on the other side; giving him a clear view at the pathetic scrap of material she called underwear. He swallowed. Hard.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" She asked, pouting.

He wanted nothing more than to capture her bottom lip and suck it to make her as crazy as she was driving him.

"Well, yeah, but this- I don't understand." He muttered distractedly as she inched closer. Her breasts were dangerously close now and he could feel the heat radiating off her body.

She toyed with his hair, "Isn't this what you want?" She asked softly.

"Hell yes," He sighed and his hands, hesitantly, moved up her thighs, "Is this real?" He asked.

"Does it matter?" She asked.

"Not really,"

"Then stop talking."

Her back arched, tipping her head back and her hips moved forward again. His hands became firmer on her skin, roaming them around on the unbelievably soft, silky skin on the inside of her thighs. A moan eased from her luscious lips and he had to close his eyes for a moment to calm his pulse.

Easy there. Don't embarrass yourself.

He looked around again. They were indeed alone, well and truly and he was literally sitting in between the thighs of the sexiest little minx he could ever lay hands on. Drastic measures needed to be taken. If she was going to dress up for this little game, he would make her play.

"Get off the table." He commanded hoarsely.

His ego did a little dance when she complied. She stood before him, her body screaming to be touched and her eyes insistent.

"Lift up your skirt," He told her, his eyes watching her predatorily.

She smiled slightly and her hands slipped over her breasts, over her stomach and down to the hem of her skirt, slowly pulling it up.

He inhaled sharply. Written in silver across the barest space on the top of her black panties was 'No. 1'.

"Turn around," He murmured, his hand rubbed across the bulge in his pants.

She pirouetted on the spot and again, in silver, the words 'Sex Kitten' were written on the back.

Malfoy smirked, "No. 1 Sex Kitten, eh?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling devilishly, her hair obscuring most of her face in shadows.

"I fully intend to test that theory. Turn back around,"

She spun on her heels.

Malfoy's molten silver gaze was heavy with lust, "Now, pull down your panties. Slowly."

She smirked, and let her thumbs glide under the spaghetti-straps that held her panties together. Teasingly, she inched them lower, gently wiggling her hips, keeping her eyes trained on his face as he watched her progress. He groaned when, finally, the skimpy underwear fell to the floor. As she brought her hands back up, she deliberately let them slink over her thighs and across her most sensitive parts and she gasped, her shoulders quaking as a shard of pleasure rippled across her body.

Malfoy's eyes met hers; both sets were dark and incredibly aroused.

"Undo your buttons," He told her.

As each button popped open, even more of her breasts sprung forward from their enclosure and ached to be pat. He growled deep in his throat when he realised she wasn't wearing a bra. With her chest bare to him, he wanted her closer to tease her hardening nipples. She made to remove her blouse entirely.

"No, don't. Keep it on." He demanded.

She looked so absolutely fuckable, that what little blood remained immediately pooled in his crotch. Her Gryffindor tie fell between her breasts and her hands moved restlessly, wishing she could touch herself and release her pent up desire that was overloading her body.

"Come here," He muttered.

She moved forward, her body humming with anticipation.

"On your knees kitten," He smirked.

Obediently, she fell to her knees, her breasts bobbing from impact. She looked up at him.

"Undo my zipper," Her hands came up, "With your teeth."

Her hands stopped, she smiled. She noted that he looked very confined and agreed that he needed to be divested of his pants. She lowered her head and gently pulled the zipper down. She heard him sigh and her hands opened the top button, freeing him entirely. He sprung up in all his glory. She looked up at him, his eyes told her all she needed to know.

She felt no fear at his intimidation and let her lips ease around his head, eliciting a loud groan from him. She did whatever she could to drive him over the edge, using combinations of tongue, lips, teeth and throat. His hands were tangled in her hair, holding her where he wanted her. But suddenly he pulled her away. She looked up at him questionably. His breathing was so ragged he almost hyperventilated.

"Not like that. If we're going to do this, I want to be in you."

She moaned in agreement, quickly getting to her feet and straddling him. She made an erotic mewling sound as his underside brushed her intimately. His head fell to her shoulder, feeling unbearable pleasure from simply having her in his arms.

"God, baby you're so wet."

"Mmm, Draco,"

"Master, call me Master." He insisted.

She looked at him impishly, "I don't believe I'm wearing the right costume for Master/Slave. Shouldn't I call you Professor or something?"

"I don't give a fuck what costume your wearing. I'm your Master and you're my little whore."

He pulled her to him fiercely, hitting her core. She screamed as stars erupted in her vision. She came almost instantly. The mere feeling of him penetrating her made her muscles spasm in ecstasy.

"Oh, yes, Master!" She howled.

He watched her as she rode the waves of orgasm, "Well, someone was excited."

She gasped breaths, her hands squeezing his shoulders tightly.

"You liked that, didn't you, slut?" He whispered in her ear.

"Oh, yes!" She breathed.

"Do you want more?"

"God yes,"

Malfoy smirked. His hands cupped her heart-shaped ass and urged her to move. She lifted her hips and sank back down, groaning in pleasure. She rode him slowly at first, fighting off orgasm to draw out the feeling. But eventually the slow pace turned unbearable and she moved faster, bouncing up and down, all manner of noises releasing from her throat as her hypersensitive flesh clenched him harder.

"You like that, whore. You dirty- dirty whore."

"Yes, Master!" She cried.

"That's what you are, you're just a slut. You need to be punished."

"Yes, Master. Punish me!"

His hand smacked her ass roughly and she emitted a lustful squeal of surprise and her pace increased. With her breasts bobbing so close to his face, he couldn't help but latch on to one, using his teeth to tug playfully hard on the erect nipple. She crowed with delight and her back arched, thrusting her chest forward. Sweat beaded in the valley between her breasts and her grip on his shoulders was almost painful.

"You're my little, sweet, dirty whore," His voice muffled by her flesh.

"I'm yours Master. Always!"

"Harder! Faster!"

Both their minds were lost in a loop. Harder. Faster. Nearly there.

"Oh, Master!"

"Squeeze me slut. Like that, yeah." He groaned.

Suddenly her body shuddered, her exclamation: a silent scream- but just as passionate as an auditory one.

He followed. Ecstasy, desire and lust released in liquid heat.

"Malfoy!"

He started.

"Mr. Malfoy! Wake up."

Professor McGonagall's voice was like a bat sonar: an incessant screech that demanded attention and reached every inch of the class clearly.

He suddenly sat bolt upright, his eyes wide. Sensing something wet on the side of his mouth, he quickly wiped the drool away. Great.

"I'd appreciate it if you would keep your eyes open long enough to learn what I am teaching you!" She yelled.

He turned red, "Sorry Professor," He mumbled.

She huffed and walked away to survey the other students. His head fell heavily into his hand, sighing at his idiocy. Raising his head begrudgingly, his gaze caught those of, none other than, Hermione Granger. She watched him disapprovingly and rolled her eyes. He sneered at her and she turned away with a toss of those unruly curls he loved so much.

If only…

Fin.

Well, that was… interesting… to write.

Yes, well, I think I'll leave the Master/Whore thing alone now. I wrote it; now let's never speak of it again.

I don't believe I've blushed so much writing a story before. But it was supposed to be: Her fantasy is nice, corny and romantic and his is like: O.O whoa. Hopefully it worked.

Ah well it's done now.