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The Competition

Summary:

Ron is convinced that he is finally right and Hermione is wrong. They enlist Harry's help to decide. But do they have ulterior motives?

Notes:

Note from Jonathan Andrew Sheen, the archivist: this story was originally archived at Table for Three. When traffic and uploads slowed to a trickle, it became difficult to justify the hosting expenses. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2015. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the Table for Three collection profile.

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The Competition by cephalopinguin

Chapter 1: The Competition

Author's Notes:

This is my first fanfiction ever.



When Harry arrived at the pub, he stopped at the bar to get a bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses, then moved to the back of the room where he knew Ron and Hermione would be. It was their regular table, and it was comfortable. It was situated in a dark corner, and this was the way Harry liked it. Harry also liked it here because this was a Muggle pub, and though he had become a regular, he still had the anonymity that he didn’t have in Wizarding London. Every Friday night Harry would Apparate to the alley behind the pub and meet with Ron and Hermione.

As he approached the table, he could hear Hermione exclaim, “You must be out of your mind!” Harry grinned as he sidled up to the table. Ron, slumped back casually in his chair, gave him a wink and raised his glass as Harry sat down.

“Hey, Harry!” beamed Hermione, as she reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

“Hey, ‘Mione. What are you two arguing about now, then?” asked Harry, one eyebrow raised. Ron and Hermione did not seem to stop arguing in Harry’s opinion. However, this did not seem relevant enough to keep them apart. They had been together ever since the war ended, about eight months ago. And Harry had to admit, the arguing seemed to work for them. Even if they were usually arguing about something absurd. Like whose owl can make the fastest trip, or how best to redecorate Grimmauld Place.

Hermione released Harry’s hand and threw her own two up. “Oh, nothing. It’s absolutely ridiculous!”

No surprise there, thought Harry. “Well?”

Hermione turned her head to Ron, then peered at Harry sideways. It was the most uncertain look he’d ever seen on Hermione’s face. Now he was curious. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

She picked up her pint and took a long gulp, staring at Harry over the top. Finally she set it down and said, “It’s embarrassing…”

Harry looked over at Ron who seemed to find it incredibly amusing that Hermione was so unsure of herself. “Ron…” Harry began.

“Oh, it’s not so embarrassing,” Ron started. “Hermione just has this talent that she thinks I couldn’t match. I say I could do just as good, even without practice.” He leaned back and looked at Hermione, a smirk across his face.

Hermione’s face was flaming red, and her eyes were downcast. Harry was loving this. Whatever had Hermione so embarrassed had to be good. “Are you two going to tell me, or not? Or should I play Twenty Questions?” Harry looked at Hermione who glanced up at him, then back down quickly. Harry thought about what could possibly make Hermione so unsure of herself. “Is it about a charm?”

Hermione shook her head, gaze still averted.

“Is it about school at all?” Harry asked. Hermione had insisted she go back for her N.E.W.T.s while he and Ron had no desire to do the same. She was allowed off on weekends and stayed with them at Grimmauld Place.

Again, Hermione shook her head. “Fine,” she said, taking a shot of whiskey. “Fine. It’s about sex.” She finished the last word in a low hissed whisper.

Harry felt his face redden. “You’re good at sex and you think Ron wouldn’t be?” Harry asked, confused. Harry knew that they were having sex, so that statement made no sense to him.

Ron snorted. “Nah, mate, she is talking about blow jobs.” He picked up a shot. “To blow jobs!” he exclaimed as he downed his shot. It seemed that Ron was a little drunker than Harry’s primary assessment reckoned.

“Oh,” murmured Harry, looking at Hermione. “You have a talent for blow jobs. That’s, um… good.” Harry was unsure of what to say. He knew his face was flaming.

Hermione downed a shot and seemed to quickly regain her composure. “Well, it’s not that I have a talent, as such. It’s just… it takes finesse, you know. It’s not just about going at it. Ron seems to think he could do just as well without any type of practice. I think that’s a ridiculous notion.” Her face had reddened quite a bit during her speech, but she had held Harry’s eyes.

“I know what a bloke would like because I am one,” Ron stated simply.

Exasperated, Hermione exclaimed, “Oh, Ron, that’s moronic. Knowing what someone likes doesn’t equate to talent! It’s much more than that.”

Ron looked at Hermione. “I’ll show you, Hermione Granger. You will give me the title of Blow Job Master. I will beat you at something for once. You’ll see.”

“How will I see, Ron. I’m not a bloke, and last time I checked, you don’t suck cock!” Hermione was frowning.

Harry was shocked, and even, dare he say it, a little turned on. Both by Hermione’s unexpected use of the word cock, and of the thought of Ron sucking one. He was, by absolutely no standards, still a virgin. He had been with a few women and two men since the war. But these images he had in his head of his friends at the moment had his blood moving south.

Ron looked over. “No, I don’t. But if I were confronted with one, I’m saying I would probably know what to do with it. Right, Harry?”

“What do you mean ‘right, Harry?’” Harry asked.

“Well, I just mean, you’ve sucked a cock, right? It translates. Just do to the bloke what you’d like yourself. How’d you do?”

“Look,” Harry started, trying everything he could to take the focus off of him, even if it meant… “I have to agree with Hermione.”

Ron looked thunderstruck. Harry had never sided with Hermione before, even when he knew she was right. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and looked smug.

Harry continued. “I think it takes practice, and despite the advantage of having the equipment constantly available, I don’t think it translates. But I could be wrong!” he finished quickly when seeing Ron’s betrayed face.

“You are wrong. I’ll prove it to you.”

“How?”

Ron sat back and rubbed his thumb along his chin. He stared off into space looking for the solution. “A competition,” he stated.

“Competition?” asked Hermione. “Between you and me? How do you expect to do that?”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“I mean,” Hermione started slowly, as though talking to a child, “I don’t have a cock for you to suck. I can’t measure your abilities.”

“Huh? Oh, no, Hermione. The point of competition is that there is a judge. An unbiased one. Even if you did have a cock, you’d be biased because you would want to win. I cannot become Blow Job Master with you as a judge.”

“You… wait, what? You want a judge. I don’t understand.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Merlin, you’re thick sometimes. I’m talking about Harry being the judge.”

At which point Harry spewed his drink across the table. “What?!” he choked.

“Ron, are you suggesting we both go down on Harry and have him tell us who’s better?” asked Hermione, incredulously.

“Yeah. Unless you want to admit right here and now that I am correct.”

“No, absolutely not, you are not correct. Fine. So be it, Ronald Weasley. When do you wish the competition to start?”

Everyone was slowly losing their minds around Harry. Maybe Harry was losing his. He could have sworn that his two best friends, his two best friends who are dating each other, just volunteered him to be a blow job judge. No, he had to be losing it. “Sorry, but,” Harry interrupted Ron and Hermione’s glaring contest, “have I just been volunteered to be a blow job judge?”

“Yeah,” they both said in unison.

“Are you two out of your minds?” Harry asked, the only voice of reason left at the table. “Hermione, that would require you to, like, cheat on Ron, or something.”

“S’not cheating if I allow it,” Ron slurred into his drink. “Besides, I’ll be doing the same, anyways. Need that title, and all.”

“Why would you even want a title like ‘Blow Job Master’ anyways, Ron? It would just be upsetting for people who wanted a masterful blow job to find out that you don’t even like cock,” Harry said, one eyebrow raised in utter confusion.

“It’s the principle of the thing. I am tired of being wrong with her all the time. Now I can prove that I’m not. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“So, you two want to settle an argument and decide to use me without my permission. What do I get out of this?” asked Harry.

Ron looked at Harry like he had gone completely round the twist. Hermione leaned in to the table, towards Harry. Her face was a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Um… hello? You get two blow jobs.” And she held up two fingers to help illustrate.

And Harry couldn’t argue with that. “Fine, we’ll do it tomorrow when everyone is nice and sober.” And his friends will be back to their normal selves, this will be forgotten, and no one need mention this ludicrous night again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry felt great in the morning, with a fresh shower and a stomach full of hangover potion. He was finishing up the eggs and bacon for breakfast when Ron and Hermione arrived downstairs. He served their plates and poured some tea. Sitting down he looked at his friends, then stood back up and fished out two more hangover potions. They both looked terrible. Moaning a thanks, they both downed their drinks. Gaining their color back, Ron dug right into the food with fervor and a “Thanks mate!,” as Hermione took a sip of tea.

“Well, what are we doing today,” Harry asked Hermione. He loved when she was here. Most of the time. Unless she answered that particular question with something along the lines of, “Well, I was reading about this ancient Wizarding library with this fascinating display, and…” Something like that. But most of the time she knew better.

“Let’s go down to Diagon Alley. I need some stuff, and we can eat lunch at that new café they just opened. It’s meant to be really good.”

And that sounded great to Harry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived back at 12 Grimmauld Place with shrunken shopping bags in their pockets and delicious food digesting in their stomachs. Ron and Hermione had managed to avoid any real arguments except for the one about Ron needing new dress robes, and all-in-all, it had been a very relaxing day.

After putting the bags away they met back in the sitting room for the Cannons game on the wireless. Harry grabbed some firewhiskey from the kitchen and settled on the couch next to Ron.

The Cannons were losing, not surprising, but they were not losing by much, which was surprising. Ron kept jumping up whenever the chasers got near the goal, and flopping down contently when they scored, beaming at Harry, or cursing loudly when they didn’t. Which earned him a tut from Hermione, who was curled up with a book.

When the Cannons finally lost (“We almost had them that time, Harry!” Ron moaned) it was still early in the night. They were quite tipsy and decided to put the firewhiskey away. No one wanted to get drunk again tonight. Ron pulled out his chess board and proceeded to thrash Harry miserably. When asked if he fancied another game, Harry protested. “No, no, that’s quite alright. I don’t particularly feel like losing to you again.”

Which reminded Ron of their conversation last night. “Oh, okay. Well, why don’t you do that judge thing for us now? I will not lose to Hermione, either.”

Two heads whipped up at him. Harry’s eyes tripled in size, they were so wide, and Hermione looked embarrassed, like she had just remembered the conversation.

“Ron…” started Harry, but he was cut off.

“Harry, you said you would do it!” Ron complained.

“Yeah, when I thought that that was just the ramblings of two drunkards! You’re crazy, Ron. I don’t understand why you are so keen on this anyways.”

“Yeah, Ron. Why are you so keen on this idea?” asked Hermione, a smirk on her face and fire in her eyes. Harry didn’t see that because he was still staring wide-eyed at Ron.

Ron’s face flushed as red as his hair. “Just because, I just. I know I’m not wrong, is all. I want to prove ‘Mione wrong.”

Hermione took the bait. She jumped up from the couch and swayed a bit on the spot. “I am not wrong!” she shouted. “Fine, you want to do this? Let’s do this! I’ll even go first! Come on, Harry.”

Harry was at a loss. “Come on, where?” he asked. She was already grabbing his hand and heading for the stairs.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m going to be in the room to make sure there is no cheating. I know what kind of spells you can do with your wand!” Ron raged.

Both of them were flush faced and glaring at each other. Harry looked a little frightened, and tried to pull away from Hermione’s angry death grip. She tightened her hand and pulled him to the stairs. “Fine, come on then.” She led Harry to his room as Ron followed them.

“Hermione, I’m not sure…” Harry started, but was cut off when Hermione cast Silencio on him. Harry gawked at her and wordlessly moved his mouth.

“Now, Harry. I don’t see how you could be complaining,” she explained, “unless, of course you find one of us unattractive?” She ended her sentence as a question, so that Harry could shake his head no, that that is not the reason. “Then, maybe there is something embarrassing about your genitalia?” Harry’s eyes widened, and he furiously shook his head. “No? So then there is no reason why you should be protesting this.” Harry slumped his shoulders in defeat and shook his head no.

“Too right, mate! Be excited. You are about to get a mediocre blow job and then the best blow job of your life!” Ron piped in from the other side of the bed.

Hermione shot a dirty look at Ron and removed the spell from Harry. “Fine,” he said, his hands held out in surrender. “What kind of moron turns down blow jobs?” He walked to the bed and spread out across it. Throwing his arms open dramatically he quipped, “Do with me what you will!” Hey, Ron was right. He would be mad to turn down a blow job from the two people he loved the most in life.

Now Hermione looked a little nervous, but she squared her shoulders and summoned her Gryffindor courage. She walked to the bed and lay against Harry’s side. She looked him in the eye and slowly leaned in. Her lips touched his, and the kiss was tentative and experimental. Blood was already rushing south from the very idea of Hermione doing this, but the kiss, which started soft, had slowly progressed to rougher, harder kissing, and oh! the tongue, and Harry rose to full hardness quickly. Hermione’s tongue was probing his mouth and he surged against her, momentum carrying him up and over so that he was resting on top of her.

Distantly he heard, “None of that, now. This is blow jobs, Hermione. You don’t want to be disqualified for unsportsman-like conduct.”

Hermione moaned into Harry’s mouth. She grabbed his shirt at the hem and pulled it off, then pushed against his chest, sending him over onto his back. She sat back on her knees and reached for Harry’s belt. Slowly undoing his belt she looked up into his eyes. Both sets of eyes that peered at each other were dark with lust. She unbuttoned his denims and slowly lowered the zip. The anticipation was killing him, and he was so hard now it was painful. He bucked into the air slightly to try to make contact with anything. This seemed to spur Hermione on and she regained all of her confidence. She was going for a slow seduction.

Pulling the denims down, she looked at the tent that Harry’s cock made in front of her. She slowly leaned down and mouthed the tip of his cock through his pants, never breaking eye contact. Harry moaned loudly, but he also heard another moan and turned to see Ron pressing his palm against the crotch of his trousers. He met his eyes, and they were dark with lust, as well. Harry wondered why it didn’t bother Ron to see his girlfriend do this to another man. In fact, he wondered why it appeared to turn Ron on so much.

Hermione took hold of the band of his underwear as she pressed kisses across Harry’s chest. Her tongue grazed a nipple, making Harry breath in sharply. She slowly lowered his underwear, and just as his cock sprang free she bit down on a nipple, making him arch and sending jolts straight to his cock.

“Nipples are not a part of blow jobs, Hermione,” Harry heard from next to him on the bed.

“I am the judge and I say it’s reasonable blow job conduct,” Harry stated, breathlessly. Hermione chuckled as her lips made their way down Harry’s torso. When Hermione finally made it to Harry’s cock, she began by licking it root to tip. Harry shuddered and moved up onto elbows so he could watch her. Hermione really was good. She had him on edge already and had hardly touched his cock. “Merlin, you’re good. This may be embarrassingly quick.”

“Mmmm,” she answered, as her lips wrapped around the head of his cock. He gasped as she swirled her tongue around the head a few times and then took more of his shaft in. Her other hand snaked up to lightly fondle his balls as she sucked. She varied the pressure and speed and really was incredibly talented. Harry knew he would not last much longer.

“Oh fuck! Merlin, Hermione!” he shouted as she relaxed her throat and took him all the way to the root. He heard a muffled “Fuck” from beside him, and the knowledge that Ron was getting off from this in combination with Hermione’s unrelenting ministrations had Harry coming hard, and he tried not to buck up as he cried out and poured himself down Hermione’s throat.

Hermione sat back on her heels and grinned as she swallowed. “So?” she asked.

“Fuck,” was all that Harry could say. He flung his arm up and over his eyes as he recovered from the shocks coursing through his body.

Hermione grinned and looked over at Ron. She winked at him and said, “Well, I’m going to go make us some tea. I’ll be right back.” And she hopped off of the bed and left the room.

Harry sat up and looked at Ron, who still had a hand pressed against his obvious erection. “She’s making tea? Is that weird?”

“She’s just killing time until you recover,” Ron stated, not looking at Harry.

Harry assumed from this evasive act that Ron had changed his mind and was now upset about what had happened. He grabbed his shirt to cover his crotch. Not wanting to lose his best friend over some stupid bet he started rambling at a rapid pace. “Mate? Are you okay? You don’t have to do this, you know. Are you upset about Hermione? I told you two that this was a bad idea. Fuck, don’t be angry. I’m really sorry. What can I do to make this right? I’ll do anything. I…”

“Harry!” Ron interrupted, looking up. “Merlin, mate, calm down. I’m not upset. I’m just…well. I’m kind of… excited to get my turn,” Ron finished sheepily.

Harry looked up with wide eyes. His jaw dropped. “I’m… I, uh… what? You’re… you’re excited to do this?”

“Um, well… yeah. I’ve kind of wanted to… for a while,” Ron looked up at Harry through his eyelashes. It was a shy look, and Harry knew Ron was waiting for rejection.

Harry was speechless, but his cock took the news very well as it began to firm quickly. He moaned and grabbed Ron by the front of his shirt to kiss him hard. Surprised, Ron gasped but quickly melted into the kiss. He slid his tongue along Harry’s upper lip to coax it open and delve inside. Their tongues met gently at first, then harsher as they progressed. Harry reached around Ron’s neck to thread his fingers through Ron’s hair. His cock was fully hard now. This was the shortest refractory period he had ever experienced. Ron’s hands were running all over Harry’s naked body. He reached down and threw the shirt aside that Harry had tried to cover up with and grasped Harry’s cock.

Harry cried out and let out a breathy “Ron!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” yelled Hermione from the doorway. “That’s so cheating, Ronald! I am supposed to be here to make sure there is no foul play. You’ll be disqualified if you don’t abide by the rules.” Both boys looked at her, lips reddened from kissing, as she sat on the bed in the spot that Ron had just vacated. “You may continue,” she stated, officially, as she waved a hand at them.

Ron looked down into Harry’s eyes, then a predatory smirk formed on his face. Harry’s eyes widened. “You ready, Harry?”

Harry nodded vigorously as Ron kissed him again. The kiss was softer and soon Ron’s lips were trailing down Harry’s jaw to his neck. Ron bit into the cord on his neck, causing Harry to buck underneath Ron and cry out. As Ron moved down to his chest and bit on a nipple, causing more jolts to his cock, Harry thought about how strange it was that this was Ron. His straight friend Ron. Who had just admitted that he wanted to do this. Harry couldn’t wrap his head around it. He had fantasized about Ron so many times. Well, he had fantasized about them both, Hermione as well as Ron. He never in a million years thought that he would be getting a blow job from both in one night. It made him giddy with joy, as he loved them both very much. He had to put this out of his mind, though, as it would just lead to disappointment. He was a judge. That was it. It didn’t mean anything more to Ron or Hermione. They just trusted him enough to let him judge, and he would be alone again tomorrow. Harry was dragged from his thoughts when Ron removed his tongue from Harry’s bellybutton to grab his wand.

Ron whispered a spell that Harry couldn’t hear, but he felt a little tingle.

“Cheating!” yelled Hermione. Harry looked over at her to find she had her pants slightly pulled down. “That’s cheating. How do we know what that spell was?”

Ron handed Hermione his wand. “Review the spell,” he told her in a way that reminded Harry that this was just a competition. And she did. She placed her wand to his and whispered a review spell. Her eyes widened. “You’re not!” she said. “Wow,” she breathed, and her hand snaked into her knickers. Harry wondered what in the world the spell could have been when his legs were suddenly pushed up to his chest and spread apart and a warm, wet tongue made contact with his arsehole.

“Oh fuck!” he yelled as his head hit the bed and his body arched. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!!” Ron’s tongue was swiping back and forth over Harry’s hole, and Harry could hardly breathe. He realized that it had been a cleansing spell that Ron had cast. Harry continued his incoherent babbling as Ron’s tongue began to probe Harry’s arse. Soon he was fervently fucking Harry with his tongue. Ron raised his hand up to Harry’s mouth and held out two fingers, which Harry took into his mouth. Having an idea about what Ron planned to do with those fingers, Harry wetted them thoroughly with his saliva. Sure enough, Ron’s tongue left Harry to be replaced by a finger-tip. As Ron pushed that finger in, he took Harry’s cock into his mouth at the same time. Harry was gasping, in-between a litany of “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!” Hermione was breathing hard beside him and Ron was fucking him with his mouth and finger. It was incredible.

Ron slowly added a second finger, as he sucked down as far as he could on Harry’s cock. After a few seconds of moving his fingers, he found Harry’s prostate and pressed on it. Harry jerked and cried out, squeezing his eyes shut. The sensation was overwhelming, and as Ron continued to suck and press on Harry’s prostate, Harry bucked and came harder than he ever had before, crying out Ron’s name as he did.

Ron sat back and looked sheepish, yet proud at the same time. Harry looked up at him. “Holy fuck, Ron, that was incredible!” he exhaled. Utterly boneless, he laid back with his eyes shut and a smile on his face, reveling in the aftershocks. After a few minutes of silence he opened his eyes to see them both staring at him expectantly. He sat up, confused, and placed a pillow over his lap. “What?” he asked.

“Well…” they both asked, in unison.

“Well, what?” asked Harry, his brow grimaced.

“Who is the winner?” asked Ron, eyes wide and shining.

Oh yeah! The competition. I forgot, thought Harry. “Um…” he started. He had just received two incredible blow jobs from his two best friends and had to choose which one was better? They were both unbelievable. One of them would be mad at him if he actually chose. He had to stall somehow. “They were both incredible. I think maybe I need to have a repeat performance from each of you to figure out who is the real victor.” Harry was just trying to be cheeky to buy himself some time so he could figure out how to get out of the situation, but he didn’t expect Ron and Hermione to look at each other and beam. Both of their eyes lit up, and they turned their smile on Harry, who looked bewildered.

“We were hoping you’d say that,” said Hermione, voice low.

“I’m sorry, you wanted me to be indecisive?” Harry asked, amused, but unsure as to why.

“No, mate, we wanted you to want us again,” explained Ron, red faced.

“Why?” asked Harry, brow furrowed.

“Because…” started Hermione, but looked away sheepishly.

Ron continued for her. “Because we want to do this all the time.”

“What? Have a blowjob competition?” asked Harry, quite thickly.

“No, you idiot. Merlin, we want to have sex… with you. And for you to be with us. Forever. We love you.”

Harry was stunned into silence. What? They wanted him? They loved him? Both of them?

“We weren’t sure how you felt about us, but we knew you’d say no to the blowjobs if you weren’t attracted to one of us,” added Hermione.

“I… well… I mean, I am, attracted. To both of you,” he said as he caught Ron’s eyes. “I just, don’t understand. You want me to… what? I won’t come between you. You two were meant to be together.”

“Yeah, but you were meant to be with us, too, Harry,” Hermione whispered into Harry’s ear. Then she moved her lips down to Harry’s neck and started trailing kisses along his collarbone. Harry gasp and his head fell back. At the same time he turned to look over at Ron, wordlessly seeking permission to enjoy this.

Ron leaned in closer. “We really want you, mate. I really want you.” Then he placed his lips to Harry’s other collarbone. Harry whimpered. He was overwhelmed with sensation, and then he suddenly felt four hands on his body, trailing lightly over his arms and thighs. “Is this what you want, too?”

“Merlin, yes,” he moaned. Hermione grinned like a loon and pushed him back onto the bed. She attacked his lips with hers, and it was hard and sensual, and just the way he liked it. Ron’s hands were still running all over his body and he was quickly getting hard again. He wasn’t sure how it was possible after the two incredible orgasms he had just had.

Suddenly his legs were pushed apart again and a wet tongue was at his hole. “Sorry, mate,” Ron said, in between licks as Harry moaned into Hermione’s mouth. “It keeps calling me to it,” lick “like a homing beacon.” Lick “And I can’t seem to stay away.” Lick “Harry?” Lick “Can I fuck you?” Lick.

“Merlin, yes,” Harry moaned again. Hermione was now making her way down his body and she stopped to suck hard on a nipple. He arched underneath her as it sent a bolt straight to his cock. He was so hard now it hurt. Ron hummed his appreciation as he stabbed his tongue inside Harry. “Fuck!”

“Accio lube,” said Ron, as he sat up, making Harry whimper from the loss. Ron tore his shirt off over his head, and Harry couldn’t help but stare at the hard chest. “Harry, I’ve always had this fantasy where I fuck you from behind while you fuck Hermione.” Harry and Hermione moaned at the same time. “Can we do that?”

“Merlin, yes,” Harry moaned for the third time. Ron grabbed his hips and flipped him over without much effort. He scrambled up onto his hands and knees.

Hermione slid underneath him. She had managed to get naked sometime while Harry had been in a fog of lust contemplating Ron’s fantasy. He looked down her body and back up to her eyes, and muttered “Fuck, Hermione.”

She smiled and whispered, “Doesn’t it turn you on when he just throws you around like a ragdoll? I can’t get enough of that. Sometimes he gets so rough during sex that he leaves bruises. Like some sort of barbarian.” Harry moaned loudly, both from Hermione’s words and from the fact that Ron’s tongue was back, now with lube-slicked fingers as backup. Harry pushed back against his tongue, which gave him great leverage to suck Hermione’s nipple into his mouth. She gasped and arched, putting most of her body into contact with Harry’s. He couldn’t believe this was happening, but it felt so comfortable. Like it was meant to be this way. He kissed and sucked his way up to Hermione’s neck as Ron breached him with two fingers. Harry hoped his breath was okay because he was practically hyperventilating into Hermione’s face. She leaned up for another kiss.

Harry’s brain function came back slightly, and he decided maybe he should be doing more, instead of just being a quivering mess. So he wrapped one arm behind Hermione’s head, bring her much closer to him, and snaked the other down her body and finally over her clit. She moaned into his mouth. He felt Ron add a third finger, and he slid his hand further down Hermione and began to finger her. She arched again, and Harry used his thumb to sweep back and forth over her clit. She gasped.

Ron pulled his fingers out at this, and leaned to the side so he could see them together. “Merlin, that’s fucking hot. I’m going to fuck you now, Harry. You fuck our girl.”

Harry nodded, and felt Ron’s cock at his entrance. Ron pushed in slowly and breached the tight ring of muscle. Harry gasped, but he was so loosened that he felt very little pain. Ron slowly inched in, while muttering “Fuckfuckfuck,” and eventually thrust completely inside. Harry could feel Ron’s balls against his, and he thought for sure he was in Heaven. That was until Hermione took Harry’s cock in her hand and positioned him at her entrance. Then she slid down the bed until he was fully inside of her. Harry hissed from so much pleasure.

He gave an experimental thrust of his hips, sinking into Hermione, and drawing Ron out of him slightly. He wasn’t sure how this was supposed to work. He backed out of Hermione slightly. Then, the trouble of working out this problem was taken out of his hands, as Ron drew nearly out of him, then surged forward, sending him into Hermione. As Ron drew out, Harry did too. Then Ron repeated it. They all moaned together. Soon, they set up a very good rhythm. Harry wished he could see Ron’s face, as watching Hermione’s was such a huge turn on. He felt the emotional aspect was causing his heart to speed up more than the physical. He stared into her eyes the whole time. That was, until Ron changed the angle of his hips, and Harry saw stars. He practically screamed, it was so good. Ron took this as approval and kept this angle. He also sped up his thrusts. With every trhust hitting his prostate, and his cock buried deep in Hermione, Harry was incredibly close to coming. Luckily, the new angle of Ron’s hips had pushed Harry’s down, and with every thrust he rubbed hard against Hermione’s clit. Harry could see it in her eye’s a second before she came. Then she arched, screamed, and her muscles rippled around Harry. Ron thrust against his prostate at the exact same time, sending him over the edge. He bucked hard and buried his moan in Hermione’s neck. Ron grabbed Harry’s hips hard enough to bruise and pounded into three more times before groaning deeply, leaning over to bite Harry’s shoulder, and spilling into him.

They fell into a sated heap for a minute before Harry realized Hermione was probably being smashed. The boys settled on either side of her, and laced fingers over her stomach. Harry looked at them both before laying back. He couldn’t even begin to fathom how lucky he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry looked across a sleeping Hermione at Ron. “How did you learn to do all that stuff?”

“Stuff?” asked Ron, blinking.

“You know, prepare me, and find the prostate and stuff. You were amazing!”

Ron’s ears blushed and he looked down at Hermione. “Erm, well. Uh, Hermione made me study.”

“Hermione got you to study?!”

“Well, she didn’t want you to be disappointed, so she made me study how to please a bloke.” His face was bright red.

“You totally won, by the way,” Harry said with a wink.

It took Ron a second to figure out what Harry was talking about. A huge smile spread across his face that nearly split his head in half. “I beat Hermione? I’m better?”

“Oh, hell yeah! No contest.”

Ron pumped a fist in the air then leaned over Hermione to grab Harry’s neck, pull him in, and kissed him hard. He pulled back, took a breath, then looked down at Hermione and back up at Harry. “I guess the real question now is which of us is better at cunnilingus,” Ron stated, with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re on!” Harry exclaimed, pulling the sheet off of an unsuspecting Hermione.

The End!!


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