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Those forty-eight hours when our heat was out were primarily filled with sex. By the end of it, I was so physically satisfied that I half considered forgiving them for fucking up the heat in the first place and I was almost a little sad when Hank the boiler man arrived to finally put everything right.
I wasn't about to tell them that, though.
I'd thought that once the heat was fixed, that would most likely be the end of the sex, but I was wrong. When it came down to it, I think all three of us were a little too single and sex-starved to not want to keep at it and the fact that we were flatmates created a lot of opportunities that wouldn't have otherwise existed. At any rate, the first evening the heat was fixed saw George snaking his arms around my waist from behind, his lips grazing my ear as he outlined exactly what he wanted to do to me while Fred knelt between my legs and gave the same demonstration with his tongue.
What followed was a period of time when I was fucking both of them with some regularity--usually at least once or twice a week, sometimes more. It was always the three of us together--there wasn't any point where it was just me and Fred, or just me and George.
Well. I take that back. There were a few times that might constitute at least partial exceptions.
It was a Friday evening and I was standing at the sink, scrubbing out the pots and pans from last night's dinner, having just returned home about ten minutes before. I heard the door open and close.
"Hey," I called over the sound of the tap. "Which one of you forgot to wash up after last night? You owe me three days of dishes now."
"That was definitely Fred." Strong arms were circling my waist, warm lips pressing against my neck, a hard cock pressing against my ass. I would've known it was George even if he hadn't said anything--the feeling of his body had become familiar to me. Fred would have been more obvious, more needy, more handsy; George was a little gentler and more likely to take his time.
"You up for a bit of fun?" he asked, pressing a kiss against my neck.
Heat was pooling in my belly. "Barely a hello. You must really be up for it."
“I usually am. Literally and figuratively." He gently pressed his hips against my ass, like I hadn't noticed that he was already hard.
I turned in his arms so I was facing him. His eyes had a look that I had become very familiar with over the last several weeks--a sort of lazy lustiness that never failed to make me wet.
"You sure you're not just trying to get out of dishes?" I said, as though that was my chief concern.
"'Course I am," he said with a smirk. "But I'd much rather discuss an intriguing idea that I had."
“Yeah?”
“Part one: you, on your back on the kitchen table. Part two: me, between your legs treating your cunt like an appetizer. Part three: Fred won’t be home for at least another half hour to forty-five minutes and I’m not going to let you come until he gets here.”
My knees suddenly went a little rubbery. "Fuck, that's hot," I breathed.
His grin was sly and hungry and incredibly sexy as he leaned in and kissed me with a lazy sort of intensity that went straight to my clit. "Yeah? You like that plan?"
I pressed myself against him, thrusting my hips against his. "Yeah."
He was undoing the button and zip on my jeans and slowly guiding me over to the kitchen table. "You think you can handle being teased for that long?"
"Only one way to find out."
He smirked at me as the backs of my thighs brushed against the edge of the kitchen table. "I think--" he was pulling my jeans off my hips, "--you're going to be begging me to make you come by the ten minute mark."
I shivered as he helped me onto the table, pulling my jeans completely off my legs and tossing them to the floor. "You think so?"
"Mmmhm. On your back."
I slowly lowered myself until I was lying flat on the table. I heard the scrape of a kitchen chair on the floor as he sat down. His warm hands stroked up my thighs. Instinctively, I lifted my hips so he could take off my knickers, but instead, his fingers traced along the seams, followed by the soft pressure of his lips against the fabric. Occasionally, his tongue would dart out, swiping at some tender bit of skin, making my breath hitch.
It was a slow, maddening sort of tease--the kind of thing I'd come to expect from George--and it was having the intended effect, driving my desire up, making me ache for the mouth that was so teasingly dragging along the edge of my knickers.
He finally pressed his lips against the center of my knickers right above my clit, inhaling deeply. I shivered.
"So soaking wet," he murmured against the fabric. "I can feel that already."
I lifted my hips and this time, his fingers hooked underneath the elastic and he slowly began pulling my knickers off my hips until my lower half was bared to him, my legs spread.
"I've been thinking about this all day." His voice was a low rumble as he gently kissed a trail up my inner thigh.
"Must've been very productive."
He chuckled. "Not exactly." I could feel the warmth of his breath against me. I resisted the urge to tilt my hips forward, determined to wait him out. "If you'd popped by at lunch, I would've been in trouble."
"Yeah? How so?"
He pressed a gentle, barely there kiss against my labia. "I think I would've dragged you upstairs to fuck you, assuming I didn't just ravish you on top of my desk."
My clit seemed to throb in response. "That does sound hot."
"Well, we can always give it a go another day." Another barely there kiss; my cunt ached. "I think you're going to like this, though."
"I mean, I think we've established that I am loath to pass up an orgasm."
"That is true. You are always so ready to come." The pad of his finger gently stroked a line along my labia, barely dipping past my folds. "Your cunt is fucking incredible, has anyone ever told you that?" he asked, his lips again so close that I could feel his breath.
"I can't say anyone has expounded on that in particular, no," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"That's a shame," he murmured, fingertip barely grazing me once again. "So sweet." His tongue darted out, ghosting against my clit before retreating. My breath hitched and my hips jerked involuntarily. "And sensitive." His lips brushed against me. "Absolutely perfect."
I couldn't help it. "George..."
He hummed and the sound of it made my cunt tighten and my clit ache. "I told you you were going to need to be patient," he said, dragging a finger along my slit. "I haven't even started yet." He paused, seeming to consider something. "You are awfully wet, though..."
"Please..." I whimpered, my hips lifting up.
"Only at minute seven," he said with a bit of a chuckle, "and already you're begging me for it."
"Please touch me," I breathed. "I'm so wet. I need you."
"What do you need?" he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss on the inside of my thigh. "My mouth? My hands? My cock?"
"Fuck, yes, all of you."
He chuckled. "Well, let's maybe start with this."
Suddenly, the warm heat of his mouth was pressing against my cunt, his tongue laving my clit in slow, purposeful strokes. I moaned, bringing myself up on my elbows to get a better look at his head between my legs.
I loved watching George eat me out. He was so singularly focused, so intense, like making me come was a puzzle that required his full and undivided attention. And I knew it turned him on, too, which only made it hotter--sometimes if I was lucky, I'd catch him stroking his cock, his rhythm matching the tempo of his tongue, like he couldn't wait to fuck me properly.
Today, though, he seemed to be in the mood for something else. The minute he caught my eye, he withdrew.
"I thought I told you to get on your back," he said, in a stern voice that gave me a little bit of a thrill.
"You know I like to watch," I said, a little breathless.
"I know," he said, "but I also said I'm not letting you come until Fred gets back and I know how much watching me gets you off." He raised an eyebrow, that stern tone creeping back into his voice. "So get on your back."
"Fuck." I licked my lips before slowly lowering myself back to the table.
"Good girl." His voice was a purr as he lowered his mouth again, kissing my inner thighs. I let out a moan as his lips and tongue again resumed their slow, rhythmic pulse against my clit.
Even though he'd said that he wasn't going to let me come until Fred got back, I had sort of assumed that his mastery of my orgasm was not actually that precise. Barring that, I wasn't above begging him to get me off--and that had the added benefit of turning him on even more.
Even at his slow and deliberate pace, it didn't take him very long to conjure that low and tingling pressure in my hips, for my cunt to start tensing and aching in anticipation of that release. Probably, if I was careful, I could get to a point where he'd have no choice but to let me finish. Just a few more minutes, I was almost...
I felt his absence immediately as he slowly pulled away from me and I knew right away that he was going to be smirking. Sure enough, when I sat up on the table, he was leaning back in his chair, stretching lazily and looking entirely too smug.
"I was getting so close," I protested, a bit of a whimper creeping into my voice.
"Oh, I know," he said with a sly and hungry smile, leaning in to kiss me. "But I told you you need to wait." His hands were sliding to my blouse buttons. "I also told you you need to be on your back," he murmured, "but I'm letting that slide because I want to get you out of the rest of these clothes."
"I could make it up to you," I said, rubbing my hand over the bulge in his jeans. "Let you fuck me with that long, hard cock of yours."
He chuckled as he undid my bra, lowering his head to my tits. "Nice try," he said, sucking one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and a gentle nip of his teeth until I squirmed, "but you're not getting out of it that way."
"It's not getting out of it so much as getting off," I grumbled, which quickly turned into a moan as George turned his attention to my other breast.
"You're going to get off, you just have to be patient." He was kissing his way slowly down my ribcage, trailing lower. He looked up at me, eyebrow raised, expression stern. "Now get back down."
There was part of me that was a little annoyed with myself for how quickly I complied, but it was largely drowned out by the part of me that wanted his talented tongue back on my aching clit. He returned to my clit with one long stroke of his tongue that had me moaning and arching up off the table. He chuckled and readjusted his grip on my hips. The tip of his tongue moved in tight circles on my clit before flattening into the long and slow strokes that he was especially good at. The rhythm of it was intoxicating.
It didn't take long for his clever tongue to bring back that tingling heat low in my belly. I could feel my orgasm building in my hips, could feel my body starting to tense, preparing to come hard, my cunt was aching for George's hard cock, I was so fucking close and--
He drew back and immediately I was sitting up, whimpering, prepared to beg.
"I'm so close," I breathed, trying to guide his hands between my legs. "Please make me come."
"Oh, you're going to come so hard, love," he breathed, looking up at me hungrily. "But not a minute before I say you can."
"I mean, you could let me come right now," I said. "Just a suggestion."
"Or," he said, "I could keep teasing you because I know how fucking hard you come when I don't give it to you right away." He pressed a kiss against the inside of my thigh and I moaned. "And you know how much I love hearing you beg for it," he murmured.
"Fuck, George. Please. I've been so good."
"Be good for me just a little longer," he murmured, hands cupping my breasts, "and I'll make you come so fucking hard."
"Fuck," I moaned, my head tilting back as he lowered his head to kiss the delicate skin of my neck, hands squeezing my breasts and slowly traveling lower and lower.
"On your back," he said with a bit of a growl against my skin as he situated himself again between my legs.
I was growing more and more sensitive as my body ached for release. He switched to slower movements now, pausing more frequently before resuming at an even slower pace. I was moaning, my hands grasping, hips thrusting. I was primed for release, absolutely aching. I needed to come, more than I ever had in my life.
He drew back again and I whimpered.
"Just a little longer." He was pressing chaste, close-lipped kisses along the crease where my thigh met my hip.
"Fuck," I moaned. "I need it."
"I know, love." More soft, gentle kisses along my belly. "You're being so good."
"George--"
"I'm going to take such good care of you," he murmured. "Make you come so hard. Just be patient for a little longer."
"Fuck--"
His mouth was again pressing against me, his clever tongue laving my clit and I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it, I was shaking, aching for release and then, I heard it: the sound of a key turning in the lock.
"Fucking finally."
Fifteen seconds isn't all that long, but it felt like a small eternity for Fred to walk into the kitchen and another moment to process the scene in front of him. He sighed heavily, shrugging out of his coat.
"Oh, so this is how it is, is it?" he said, tossing his keys on the counter. "I stay late at the shop and the two of you are up here going at it?"
I couldn't quite tell if he was genuinely annoyed. He certainly looked tired, which made me feel a little bad. At the moment, though, I didn't really have the mental faculties to inquire further or gauge much of anything other than my aching cunt. George, thankfully, was in a bit of a better position for this. He lifted his head from between my legs and I whimpered.
"Not exactly," he said. "It's more like a warmup. I've been going down on her for the last, what--" he checked his watch "--forty-three minutes, and I haven't let her come yet."
Fred raised an eyebrow, some of the irritation leaving his expression. "Well. That changes things slightly."
I knew an opportunity when I saw one. "Fred, I breathed, reaching for him as George lowered his mouth back to my clit.
He looked at me, letting his eyes drag over my body. He was trying to remain cool--and doing a decent job of it, but I knew that look and I knew I had him.
"Fred, please."
He gave up the act and stalked over to me, eyes hungry. "I love hearing you say my name like that," he said, his voice a little bit of a growl as he bent down to kiss me, his hands immediately going to my breasts. I moaned, tugging at his shirt, trying to urge him closer. He chuckled, his lips pulling into a smirk.
"Fuck, I need to come so bad," I moaned. "I need it, I need it, I've been so good, please."
"So greedy. " Fred was lowering his mouth to my breasts, dragging his teeth over my nipple until I moaned.
"Please," I whimpered.
"Very polite, though," said Fred. "What d'you think, George, is she ready to come?"
George paused long enough to say, "I think she might be."
"Yes, yes, please," I whimpered.
"God, you're so fucking hot," said Fred with a bit of a growl in his voice, bending down to kiss me, his fingers pinching and tugging at my nipples. In the same moment, George slid one long finger into my cunt and my eyes practically rolled into the back of my head from the sheer pleasure of it.
"That's it," murmured Fred, his eyes sweeping greedily over my bare body. "Fuck, look at you, all spread out on the kitchen table, begging for it like the dirty girl that you are."
"Oh fuck." I could feel my orgasm building.
"Let me see you come, gorgeous." Fred's hands were on my breasts, pinching my nipples. "Get that cunt nice and tight and wet for me."
I was whimpering, my breath coming in gasps, I was so fucking close.
"Come for me," murmured Fred. "Be a good girl and come for me."
George added a second finger and that was it. The wave that had been building and building in my hips and stomach crested in an incredible shuddering bliss and I came hard.
The noise that I made was not especially sexy, though Fred and George would claim it was. It was a guttural groan that emerged from my throat unprompted as I arched into my orgasm. My muscles were contracting and releasing, my cunt spasming around George's slowly thrusting fingers.
"Fuck yes, that's it," groaned Fred.
But the wave wasn't abating, it was still there and then it was building and it became glaringly apparent that I was going to come again.
"Oh fuck, ohh it's right there--"
"You're gonna come again, aren't you?" purred Fred. "You just fucking need it that badly."
This orgasm was just intense as the last, again tearing that guttural groan from somewhere deep in my chest. My cunt was tightening and fluttering around George's fingers, but I needed more, I needed to be fucked hard on top of the table, I needed to feel his cock inside me as I came, I needed him, I needed...I...
I was shaking, something like a sob falling from my lips as I realized that I was about to come again. Fred had undone the zip and button on his jeans and was lazily stroking his cock as he murmured filthy encouragements to me. My back arched and I balanced for a moment on the edge before careening forward, coming harder than I had previously...possibly harder than I had in my life.
It was only when the last tremors of my orgasm subsided that George lifted his head from between my legs.
"Nicely done," said Fred, as though they were on the Quidditch pitch.
"Some of my better work, I think." I could hear George undoing his belt. "I'm calling first go, we've been at this for a while and the effects are becoming an issue."
"Fair enough."
Warm hands were again on my thighs. "You ready for me, love?" George asked, his voice tender in a way that made me ache.
I whimpered. "Please."
"You're fucking insatiable, aren't you?" murmured Fred, leaning down and kissing me. "No wonder you need the two of us to get you off."
George was rubbing his cock up and down my slit, nudging my hypersensitive clit and making me ache.
"George," I moaned.
Fred chuckled. "Fucking insatiable."
"You need me?" George asked, a little bit of a smirk playing at his lips as he placed his cock just at the entrance to my cunt. I could feel him, hard and throbbing and it only intensified the ache inside me.
"Please, please, please, I need you so bad, I need you, I--"
George was fond of drawing out that initial stroke as long as possible, and this was no exception. He incrementally eased into me until he was buried to the hilt and I was moaning and breathless, trying to thrust my hips forward to get him to start fucking me. His grip on his cool seemed slightly more tenuous than usual.
"Holy fuck," he gasped, his hips pressed against me. "Fuck, love, you feel so good, so fucking tight--."
"I need--"
But he was moving before I could say anything else, his cock fitting so perfectly in my aching cunt, rubbing all of the right places. Fred was occupying himself with my breasts--by the feel of it, I'd likely end up with love bites there (which was fine because George would later make a point of tending to said love bites with his mouth, which didn't really do anything, but fuck it felt good). Fred took my hand, curling it around his cock. I hadn't really got all that much better at sucking or wanking one off while the other was fucking me (and if I was being honest, I preferred being fucked twice anyway), but I could make a passing go of it. It was enough to make Fred groan against my tits, his cock throbbing in my hand.
George, meanwhile, was thrusting steadily into me, his eyes half closed as his hips pistoned against me. My body was tensing around him and I could feel another orgasm coiling in my hips. He opened his eyes then, giving me a half-smirk.
"You gonna come for me again?" he asked, continuing at the same pace.
Somehow this simple act was enough to nudge me closer. I moaned, my back arching. Fred chuckled against my breasts.
"Think that's a yes." He dragged his teeth over my nipple. "Filthy girl."
That was what sent me flying over the edge. My muscles spasmed and shook, tightening around George's cock as I came.
"Oh, fuck, yes, that's it." George was slamming his hips against me, redoubling his efforts and changing something about the thrust of his hips that made me moan.
"Come on, sweetheart, I know you've got one more for me," said George. "One more, let me feel you."
To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure that he was right, but then Fred was flicking his spit slick fingers against my clit, once, twice, and suddenly my back was arching and my cunt was tightening again and I was lost, moaning as I shook and shuddered around him.
"Fuck. Fuck." George was fucking me hard now, his mouth open, eyes closed, head tilting back. He gave a low groan and his thrusts quickened and then began to slow as he spilled himself inside of me.
It took about a minute for George to collect himself, easing out of me and stumbling into one of the chairs next to the table. His hands framed my face as he leaned in and kissed me thoroughly.
"You're fucking incredible," he mumbled against my lips. He was gentle, almost tender, so intently focused it took my breath away.
Fred, meanwhile, had wasted no time and had positioned himself between my legs, teasing my cunt with the tip of his cock. "Ready?"
"Yeah."
He eased into me, swearing profusely about how tight I was while George continued kissing me, soft and slow. It became a bit of a study in contrasts: Fred, hips snapping against me, fucking me roughly against the table to the soundtrack of his own filthy monologue; George, tender and slow, murmuring about how good I'd been, how hard I'd made him come.
They managed to coax one more orgasm out of me--Fred, fucking me so hard the table was banging against the wall, George murmuring soft and low into my ear in between those decadent kisses, his hand sliding down to lightly rub my clit with the perfect amount of pressure until I was coming, my cunt tightening around Fred's cock taking him over the edge with me.
We stayed there for a moment, Fred panting, letting his cock slowly soften inside of me, George nuzzling the crook of my neck, his fingers twining in my hair.
After a long moment, Fred finally spoke. "Just so we're all clear," he said, slowly easing out of me, "next time it's my turn to duck out of work early."
George chuckled sleepily against my neck. "I'll plan on taking a long lunch that day."