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Menage a Brownies

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Harry opened the door. He expected a blast of magically cooled air, but all that came at him was a weak, sanguine breeze. He sighed. He had had a bitch of a day. Coach yelled at him for missing the Snitch. He nearly had his head taken off by a Bludger four times. The day had been bloody hot and sunny. 'Of all the days to yet again forget the damn sun block,' he thought tiredly to himself. 'Now I have to deal with a fucking sunburn on top of everything else.' He dropped StarQuest XLT broomstick, outer robes, arm and leg protectors, and shirt onto the foyer floor, not giving a flying damn if anyone would register a complaint. All he wanted right now was a shower and a tall, cold one...

A delicious smell wafted its way through Harry's sun-addled senses. Damn! Brownies. At 5:00 in the afternoon. Uh-oh. The strains of a Beethoven symphony danced with the bouquet of chocolate in the air...Third Symphony. Oh, this was not good. Beethoven and brownies could mean only one thing.

Hermione had had a bitch of a day.

Harry sighed once more. Seems these bitchin' days had become more and more frequent, especially since Hermione's new boss seemed to enjoy tormenting her with inane projects, requests for information he could perfectly well find himself, and-- the piece dé resistance--weekly reports on what she "thought" she could accomplish so that he could monitor the "overall office strategy." Harry and Ron had had to talk her out of casting any number of hexes, all of which threatened the S.O.B's manhood. Even a slimy git deserved to keep his private bits intact, they reasoned. "Fine," she stormed. "Males circling the wagons in the name of penile preservation." She had stomped off and cursed the refrigerator so that it would not cool their bottles of Aberforth's Pale Brew, no matter how long they stayed in the freezer. Damn, but she had been mad. The guys had been forced to seek libations elsewhere for a solid week.

After a shower, Harry padded down the stairs wearing lightweight running shorts and an old t-shirt. He stopped in the kitchen, grabbed a lager, and wandered to the cozy sitting room in the rear of the house. There, he found the world's smartest witch sprawled on the couch with a pan of Madame Ruby's Double Dark Chocolate Brownies with melted chocolate chunks, slightly undercooked so that she could scoop it with a finger and swallow the mushy concoction easily. And she wasn't...wearing much. Damn! It wasn't often he caught his housemate and best advisor without a full kit on, even relaxing around the house on a late summer's afternoon. Hermione was always dressed. Always. Harry gulped as he watched her scoop another finger-full of brownie and put it in her mouth-eyes closed-clearly savoring the finger and the brownie, and withdrawing said digit achingly slow. She picked up a glass of red wine and took a long sip.

Brownies and red wine. Whoa! This was serious. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes brightening as they lit upon him.

"Hey, there. How was practice?"

"Brutal."

"You all fly without shirts again?"

"Yeah, it was really hot."

"From the look on your face, you forgot the sun block potion again."

"Yes, dammit. I had Lance cast a blocking spell, but he's crap at charms."

"Obviously. Need me to rub the relief potion on your back?"

Well, it couldn't be too bad if she was offering. And brightly,too. Had to be the wine. "Please, if it's not too much trouble. Don't want to interrupt the one-person pity party."

She sighed. "That easy to tell?"

What, did she think he was totally thick? "I noticed. Want to talk about it?"

"Not yet." Oooh, bad sign. "Take off your shirt and come sit in front of me."

Harry quickly divested himself of the t-shirt and plopped down in front of her. She retrieved the jar of "Day in Hell Sunburn Cure" from the side table where it had taken up permanent residence this summer, given Harry's penchant for searing his body in the hot sun. She poured a generous amount into her hands.

"Shit!" he exclaimed when she placed the magically cooled salve on his shoulders. "I always forget to brace myself."

She giggled, then hiccupped. Oooh, she was well into the wine. 'This, he thought, 'could be interesting.'

"This is the second time this week you've gotten a bad burn, Harry. When are you going to learn?" she said in a slightly disapproving tone as her hands trailed down the sides of his body.

"What? And miss your loving care? You know I love it when you put your hands on me." Might as well not be too subtle.

"I can think of a lot better things to rub on you than sunburn salve. You need only ask."

One eyebrow shot up. "Really?"

As he turned to face her, she quickly wiped his fiery red nose and cheeks, instantly cooling his abused skin. He smiled gratefully at her.

Hermione picked up her wand and cast a sealing spell on Harry's angry red back, shoulders, arms and face. The salve had something in it that gave him a slight buzz. He relaxed even more as he finished off the lager. He noticed that she was also relaxing more as she got up to change the music to jazz. Yep, life was definitely getting better.

*~*

Ron came through the door at 6:00pm. He had had a bitch of a day. He had stopped off at The Dungeon Pub with some coworkers from the office to drown their mutual misery in something stronger than butterbeer. Queen Mab's Emerald Gin with a dash of tonic and lime-three of them-had put him and his mates in the right frame of mind and attitude to return to the loving arms of family. Ron was looking forward to a quiet evening with his housemates, maybe even a Muggle film, if he could convince Harry to go to that...what was it, again? video rental shop?...around the corner.

Sounds of laughter--one female, one male--greeted him as he woozily stood in the foyer. Wow. Sounds like a party! Ron dropped bag, robes, shoes beside Harry's gear on the floor. Hmmm, Harry hadn't cleared off his stuff. Hermione would've been all over him about it by now....

He followed the laughter to the kitchen where he found one shirtless, giggling Harry stirring a bowl of brownie batter and one...whoa!...nearly shirtless Hermione in shorts that were...indecent. Great Merlin's beard! Where had she been hiding those all these years?!? She was pulling a pan of brownies that were sort of quivering out of the oven. Two empty bottles of Aberforth's and a nearly empty bottle of wine sat on the counter. Well, that explains the giggling....

"Hey, Ron!" said Harry a tad giddily. "Want some brownies?"

"Is that what's for dinner?" Ron asked, reaching into the refrigerator for an Aberforth's and motioning to Harry if he wanted another one.

"Well, it sure as hell ain't beef!" sputtered Hermione. She reached for the wine bottle but hit it instead.

"Haven't you had enough?" Ron asked, as he saved the bottle from certain disaster.

Hermione paused. "Nope. I'm still coherent," she concluded. "Be a dear and open another bottle for me."

Over her head he saw Harry pointing at her and mouthing, "Bad day!"

He nodded in reply, retrieving a new bottle from the winerack on the counter. "Anything for you, sweets, " Ron said, as he magicked the cork out of the bottle, though he had to really concentrate.

"You've got too many clothes on. Go change!" Hermione ordered, as she spun Ron around towards the stairs. "Don't come back with much on. It's hot in here. Don't want you suffering heat stroke!"

Ron returned before long--shirtless, sockless, shoeless--and in a pair of cut-off jeans, the really short ones he butchered the first time he attempted to make cut-offs. Hermione told him he how he could recycle a pair of well-loved jeans into shorts.

"Much better. Any pants under those?" Hermione tried to look up the leg.

"Hermione!"

"If you're objecting, you haven't had enough to drink. Bring me that bottle!" Hermione hoisted her wine glass as if in salute.

Ron shuffled to the kitchen to retrieve all he had been bidden to retrieve, as well as the now-warm pan of brownies. They looked mushy.

"Mmm, you're a love, " she purred, as Ron handed over the slightly viscous pan of Madame Ruby's Double Chocolate brownies with white chocolate chunks, now in thick rivers of white in the muddy brown chocolate.

Harry dipped two fingers into the pan to scoop out the brownie mix. Damn, but this stuff was sinfully good. Hermione had the right....

 

"Oi! What're you doing to me?" Harry gasped.

Hermione had spread some of the brownie across Harry's chest. She grinned wickedly at him.

"I was clean, and now look what...Oh!...Oh, my!" he finished weakly.

Hermione leaned over and licked the brownie off Harry. Her tongue grazed one pink nipple. Oh. My. Indeed. 'That was bloody brilliant,' he thought.

Ron scooted closer. He couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. One best friend licking the other best friend's chest..and...god, Harry had the most amazing look on his face.

"Do that again, 'Mione," Harry whispered.

"Like that, do you?" she grinned, and she smeared brownie on the other nipple and followed with her talented and hungry tongue.

Harry groaned appreciatively. Ron was taken aback and then, extremely turned on by the scene unfolding before him.

Hermione giggled. "Oh look!" Mr. Merrymaker had come out to play."

"Whoops!" Harry blushed as he realized the tip of his penis had found its way to the opening of his rather revealing running shorts.

"Oh let him out. He's so cute."

"Hermione, never call the essential bit of a guy's package 'cute.' The word is always 'impressive' or 'very impressive'.

"It's that too, darling."

"And looks like Master Longstaff doesn't want to be outdone." Harry smirked.

Ron blushed ferociously, but uninhibited by drink and trust, he decided to go along. "Well, mate. Just wanted to give 'Mione a chance to see what a real man's cock looks like."

She leaned over to smear brownie on Ron. Her tongue trailed across his chest; when she arrived at the now-taut nipple, she took it between her teeth and gave it a tug at the same moment her hand found and wrapped around the head of Ron's erection.

"Oh, god," Ron breathed.

Harry, now fully aroused, gently ran his hands under Hermione's tank and eased it up her body. He trailed his fingers over her bare breasts, pausing to squeeze each rigid nipple. Her breathing hitched, and sitting back from Ron, she lifted her arms over her head, as Harry pulled the tank off.

It had been quite a while since either man had seen any part of her nude. Her breasts were beautiful. Not large, but not small either. They were firm and round and soft and pink, and oh, they were magnificent.

Hermione returned to stroking Ron's cock, while Harry cupped her breasts, leaning forward to embrace her back with his chest.

"Ron," she breathed, "lie back."

Ron, who could do nothing but obey, laid back as Hermione divested him of the cut-offs. His erection sprang free and upward. She looked at Harry, and with eyes locked on each other, they slipped their shorts off as well. Harry scooped more brownie onto his fingers and, with a wicked grin, covered Ron's cock.

"Harry! What the hell..."

"Don't think, mate. I'm pissed enough to do this."

At the same time, Hermione covered Ron's chest. Harry looked at her, and in unison, they went down on Ron.

Ron, for his part, didn't know whether he should feel repulsed, turned on, or truly grateful. He tried hard not to think about the fact that it was Harry-a guy, his best friend-doing the most amazing thing to his cock with that tongue. And Hermione...great god, her equally talented tongue on his nipples threatened to reduce him to a quivering mass of half-baked brownies. He decided, as the delicious sensations continued, that he wouldn't think about that. Guy. Girl. Eh, who cares, as long it continues to feel like...wow.

Harry, for his part, tried not to think about the fact that he was sucking Ron. The slightly bitter precome mixed with the sweet brownie tasted...oddly okay. He glanced up to see that Hermione's arse was nearly in his face and he sneaked a hand up to find her wetness. Sensing no objection, he slid two fingers inside her. Whoooaaa...The warmth and the profound softness of a woman's vagina never failed to amaze him. He ran his thumb carefully up her outer folds and found her hardened clit; she shivered as he gently rub it. Ron's hardness and her softness set up a juxtaposition in his mind that nearly sent him over the edge. Hard guy. Soft girl. Oh, my.

Hermione, for her part, didn't think at all. But when Harry found her vagina and her clit, she nearly exploded. Whoa! Where did Harry learn to do that? And who knew Ron was such a great kisser? Ron. Harry. Her two best friends, never boyfriends. Eh, who cares, along as it continues to feel like...wow.

Then, the mood shifted into high gear. Hermione pulled up and ran her hands through Harry's hair. He released Ron, who let out a yelp of frustration as the sensations shooting through him ended. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of his two best friends kissing each other deeply. Harry's cock was furiously trying to bury itself in Hermione's dark thatch. Who knew watching two people make out was so...erotic?

Hermione pushed Harry gently onto his back. She took Ron's cock in her hand and centering herself over Harry's ramrod straight penis, she pushed down onto it in one smooth motion.

Ron carefully raised himself onto his knees, Hermione's hand still gripped his aching cock. He captured her lips and thrust his tongue in while finding and squeezing one of Harry's nipples.

Harry had reached Nirvana. He watched Hermione pulsing up and down on his cock, and Ron kissing her deeply. His passion-addled brain barely registered the fact that he and his two best friends were engaged in a three-way orgy. Eh, who cares...as long as it continues to feel like...wow.

Hermione's pulsations became deep grindings against his pelvis. Ron's breathing became more labored; Hermione's hand on his cock matched her pace on Harry's. Harry's hips worked in shallow, upward thrusts in time with Hermione. As if on cue, Hermione gasped as her orgasm washed through her body. At that same instant, Ron's orgasm hit him, shooting come on Harry's stomach. As Ron and Hermione climaxed, Harry grasped her hips and with one final thrust, he exploded.

Three fairly drunk, sweaty, exhausted, and saliva-sticky friends fell into a pile of arms, chests, legs, and hair. No one spoke. Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione who collapsed on his chest, her hair spread over his face like a soft, wiry blanket. Ron snugged up to Harry's side, his nose in Harry's ear, now breathing the slowing rhythms of sleep. Harry whispered, "Accio, wand!" and it flew into his upstretched hand. He thought for a moment and muttered the spell to transfigure the rug into a squashy mattress. He levitated the blankets off the back of the sofa and spread them over and around the three of them. Hermione shifted to his side.

"Ron asleep?" she yawned.

"Mmm..." he replied, just as sleepily. A few moments later, he chuckled. "Who knew brownies were an aphrodisiac?"

"Chocolate has always been used as a prelude to love and sex. That's why it's central to Valentine's Day gifts." Even pissed and post-orgasmic, Hermione could sound academic.

"Yeah, but on us? What was that about?" he continued, yawning again.

"Maybe it just uncovered something that's always been there," she said after a handful of heartbeats, snuggling closer to Harry's body and running her had down Ron's arm which was flung over Harry's chest. Her breathing settled into a steady rhythm, and her body relaxed.

Eh, who cares? Guy. Girl. It was just the brownies.

Wasn't it?

 

 

 

 

 

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