Deviancy is not a crime, it's a way of life - Fic: 'Keep It In The Family' HP/CW, HP/BW, HP/FW/GW, HP/PW NC17 [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
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Fic: 'Keep It In The Family' HP/CW, HP/BW, HP/FW/GW, HP/PW NC17 [Jul. 30th, 2007|06:14 am]
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Title - Keep It In The Family
Author - [info]softly_sweetly
Beta - The Peerless [info]potion_lady, who has the patience of a saint *nods firmly*
Rating - NC17
Word Count - 2609
Characters/Pairings - Harry/Charlie, Harry/Bill, Harry/Fred, Harry/George, Harry/Fred/George, Harry/Percy
Warnings - Highlight for warnings *Gangbang, Sex, Slash, Threesome, Multiple Partner, Come Play, Cussing, Incest, Rimming, Light Bondage, First!Person, Weasleycest, Twincest, Biting*
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot lines. I make no money from this, and mean no offence by any scene depicted within this story
Summary - The Weasley boys have always been close, and they always share. Harry is no different.
Author's Notes - Yeah…just…yeah. Porn. 'Nuff said.

One finger scratches leisurely down my spine, and I shiver in anticipation. I know exactly what will happen next, yet at the same time I have no idea what will happen next.

I guess I should explain, huh?

I did the hero thing, won the war, did the expected in dating Draco (and doing Lucius on the side…damn, but Azkaban turned him into a glorious bottom) and did the Hermione-expected in ending it. I love Draco dearly, but hell…I can’t live with him. Besides, he's happy with Snape…I always wondered about his recurrent fantasy of me being the teacher and him the naughty school boy.

I got a nice job training under Ollivander, and I'm only six months away from attaining my wand-making qualifications. I love the thought of using my magic to help other people use theirs. It appeals to me, in a poetic justice kind of way.

Then one day, who should walk in but Charlie Weasley? Well, an afternoon spent helping him find a new wand and I was smitten. We dated, and kissed, and before I knew it I was organising a bonding ceremony and christening every horizontal surface in our marital home, and most of the vertical ones, many times over.

So, wedded bliss ensued. For a while. Then I started to notice another man. Not just any other man, but Bill.

Ginny died in the war, as did Arthur, and it pulled the Weasley males even closer. They shared everything. I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised when Charlie suggested that they share me.

At first it was only with Bill. He'd come round once a week and fuck me breathless. Fleur knew, of course, and she appreciated it; Bill's semi-conversion brought an increase in his baser needs, and Fleur was having trouble keeping up. She loved the relief that it bought her; the few hours that Bill would spend pounding me through whatever surface we reached before the arousal broke through. Sometimes Charlie would watch, sometimes he'd join in. He'd always take me first before Bill arrived. He'd tell me, that 'Your tight arse is mine, Bill gets sloppy seconds' and I'd scream out my release.

Then one day, Charlie came home in a state like I've never seen him before. I don't think he said a single word to me that night that didn’t have some kind of sexual connotation. When we finally fell onto the bed, shattered and sated to our cores, I questioned his good mood. His smirk sent shivers along my spine like it always did, always does, and he purred out, 'Fred and George are fucking'.

Five little words, and the look in his eyes told me everything. The next time Bill came over, I wasn't at all surprised when the twins "just dropped in" mid-way through the afternoon. That first time they just watched me, Bill, and Charlie, while they played with each other. But the looks in their eyes told me that the next time they'd be joining in.

It went on like that for ages. Me and Charlie, then me and Bill, then me and the twins. It never felt wrong, never felt like we shouldn’t be doing it. One afternoon a week never impacted negatively on my marriage, and I knew that no matter how much fun we had, I was Charlie's and he was mine, and no one would come between that.

One afternoon we were all surprised by Percy arriving. He redeemed himself spectacularly when he finally cottoned on to Voldemort being back, and he was accepted happily back into the family fold. But he remained the Percy he'd always been…prim, proper, and a bit of a prude. Imagine his horror to find his older brother's husband being buggered by his younger twins; one in each orifice and Bill's mouth around my cock.

It took seven "bad timing" drop-ins for Charlie to jump up and force Percy to stay, force him to watch what we were doing on the kitchen table. Percy came in his pants and fled in tears, but he still came back the next week. For Percy, there can be no vocalisation of what he's doing. Watching his brothers have sex, getting off on it, seeing his brother-in-law debase himself for everyone's pleasure…it breaks too many rules for Percy to be comfortable talking about it. But he needs it; needs the catharsis of it, needs to let go of his rigid control one afternoon a week. Percy never speaks when he's here, and he never speaks of it afterwards. But sometimes he smiles when no one's expecting it. Percy hasn’t smiled much since the war, so we don't push him for more.

Then there's Ron. I thought I'd be letting them down, saying that I didn’t want Ron let in, but it seems the others feel the same way. Being the youngest now, poor Ron's had all the over-protective urges that they felt for Ginny transferred onto him, and no one really wants to expose him to our Sordid Sundays.

Charlie likes when I call them that.

It's Charlie's fingers moving up and down my back and ribs. I don't know how many of you have ever witnessed or experienced a muggle PE lesson, so I'd better explain what a horse is. A trapezoid of wood, with sturdy legs and hand-holes for easy carrying, it's made up of slices, so you can adjust the height. The top slice has a cushioned top covered in leather.

Charlie bought us one, but he transfigured the leather into soft velvet. Today we only have two slices in place, so that my knees rest on the floor. I'm bound loosely to it so that I can't escape, and my cock is trapped between my body and the velvet. I'm glad it isn’t leather; between the sweat and the come, my skin would stick to the leather and it would be very painful. Not that we had to find that out from experience or anything…

Back to now. I know exactly what will happen, and yet I have no idea what will happen. It seems paradoxical to say, but it’s the truth. I know that it will follow a set pattern…smooth with Charlie, rough with Bill. Anything and everything goes with the twins, and Percy's pleasure is easy on me. But within that simple order, anything can happen.

We're all very sensible and mature about this, really. It's the most sensible and mature gangbang you'll ever come across. We have safe words, and rules, and our own little code to talk about this outside of Sunday afternoons.

I'd explain more, but Charlie's tongue is flicking along my crack; gods but I love it when he rims me. His tongue is hot and slick, pressing against my entrance firmly before retreating to lick all around. Merlin himself couldn’t work out what I'm babbling; keening and whining as Charlie's tongue pushes inside me and laves at my hot channel.

He pulls back and I feel the cool slide of a lubrication charm, and then he's penetrating me in a slow, firm thrust. He knows exactly what this does to me; knows that a barely-prepared penetration is one of my kinks. Sure enough, as his hips rest against my upturned arse and I feel his thick cock stretching me open, pushing at my burning muscles and giving them no choice but to yield to him, the first jets of hot come leave my prick to stain the velvet, and I clamp down around him.

His thrusts are fast and deep, and his grunts make my freshly-spent cock twitch in attention. I love his cock…you know the phrase 'a tennis ball on a baby's arm'? Well, that's Charlie's cock. Long and thick and with a large, broad head that slides over my prostate in such a delicious manner that I'm certain I'm going mad. His grunts get rougher and his fingers dig into my shoulders. Then he stills; the panting of six sets of laboured lungs fills the air as he drenches my insides with his come.

When he pulls out he delivers a stinging slap to each arse cheek, making me gasp and writhe on the horse. I hear his voice, rough and sandy, as he turns to Bill. "The little slut’s all yours."

Charlie moves to sit on the chair in front of me. I tilt my head up and catch his eyes, smiling salaciously and licking my lips as Bill prowls over to me. I hear him drop to his knees, and suck in a breath as his hands move to rub roughly over my buttocks. You see, Bill likes to bite.


He lines them along the crease where my buttocks and thighs join, ensuring that I'll feel them every time I sit down. I can feel something warm trickling down my legs, and when a sticky pink finger is pushed roughly into my mouth, I know his teeth have broken the skin.

Another side effect of the incident in the Tower is an increase in body hair, and as Bill drapes across my back to sink his teeth into my neck, I feel it, coarse and furry against my bare skin. He only bites in the week immediately after the full moon…he isn’t turned enough to infect me anyway, but I don't question his private safety measures. Instead I look up, losing myself in Charlie's sky blue eyes as he watches Bill's teeth pressing into my skin.

My cock is hardening underneath me, twitching as the supple skin finally splits and breaks, blood trickling down my collarbone. He finally releases my abused flesh, and I suck in a quick breath before he thrusts into me. Bill is shorter than Charlie, but thicker. His head just bangs against my prostate, but his shaft stretches my muscles even further open. Bill can last out longer than any of the others; fast, hard strokes that reduce me to a wreck. When we first started this, he could keep going until I was crying and coming dry, but he doesn't do that anymore. The thrill of being watched works against his need to have me reduced to quivering arousal, and he can normally only survive one or two of my orgasms before he's coming himself.

I pride myself on still being tight; on still being able to pull an orgasm from a man with only my clenching muscles. As Bill's thrusting prick pushes me to full hardness and then to a blinding orgasm in less than ten minutes, I focus every spare bit of energy on clamping around his prick, fighting to keep him buried in me while I come. He's stronger than me though, he can pull out and push back in no matter how hard I clench, but it pulls him undone. His ragged breathing mingles with the sloppy sounds of his cock thrusting into me, Charlie's come easing the path, and then Bill's thrusts take on a desperate edge and he's grunting louder. This is the closest to bestiality I'll ever get, and I love every minute of it as he ploughs harder and harder, finally sinking his teeth into the skin at the nape of my neck and filling me in long spurts.

When he pulls out I can feel the come trickling out of me, and I squeak as the flow is quickly stemmed by three fingers. See what I mean about things being unexpected?

After a quick feel around the fingers are removed, and I groan as their owner moves into my field of vision. My mouth is open before his hand even moves, and Fred smirks as I accept the sticky digits greedily, slurping obscenely and tasting the connected, but different, flavours of Bill and Charlie. His cock juts out from a nest of tight red curls, and as my eyes gorge on the solid flesh I feel George's tongue lapping at my thighs. Fred's dropping his head, lips caressing my ear as he whispers, 'Taste good, Boy Wonder?', and I nod in frantic agreement.

With the twins, I tend to be more of a conduit to their connection than an active part, and that suits me just fine. I like being reduced to nothing more than a willing receptacle for their pleasure, and as Fred pulls his fingers away their timing is perfect; him sliding into my mouth and George into my grasping arse.

They move in perfect tandem…both sliding in and both sliding out in time with each other. I almost lament the fact that Fred won't be coming in my arse along with his brothers, but he tastes too good for me to be truly upset about it. Fred angles my head so that he can slide in deeper, and I hear catching breath from the observers as I choke on my mouthful. Spit and pre-cum slide down my chin and besides the breathing the only sound is the slick slop of come and spit.

And then I'm there…that place where the number of orgasms fades off and it's just pleasure. I can relax into the rhythm of the two bodies possessing me, and it feels so damn good that I barely recognise the heartfelt moans as coming from me. I wouldn't know they were mine if Fred's cock didn’t react to them in my mouth.

The leather sofas creak…a stolen glance to the side shows Charlie has moved over to the couch by Bill, hands stroking over each other. That sends an added jolt of arousal through me, my sensitive cock twitching and jerking, trapped as it is between my sticky belly and the stained velvet. Then Fred and George are coming hard, and I know they must be watching the show Bill and Charlie are putting on. Both of them are emptying into me, and my cock twitches in another lazy orgasm.

I'm totally relaxed against the horse; my limbs soft and pliant as I gasp in breath after breath. I feel light-headed, and if I didn’t know that there was still one more sibling to service, I'd have been startled by the person dropping down behind me. Percy never speaks, never touches, never moves into my field of vision, but I know he's there. My body has given up on trying to hold in the collected release of Charlie, Bill and George, and I can feel it running down my legs in dirty streams. It's hot and sticky and…not wrong, but deliciously not-right.

Percy lives for that sight, for all the rigid rules it breaks. He's done within minutes; his grunts and moans getting more fraught as his hand flies up and down his cock. I whine as I feel the hot splashes of release decorating my arse, as I hear the desperate little whimpers as he comes. I'm too tired to do anything more than clench my arse, temporarily stemming the flow before letting it restart. But it doesn’t matter; Percy doesn’t want any more from me today, or any other day.

I lie on the horse, half-asleep as they all say their goodbyes and leave. Finally the door closes on a satiated Bill, and Charlie is back in the room. He unties me and rubs my limbs gently, getting the blood flowing properly again before he helps me off the horse to lie on the floor. I stretch out, cat-like, on my back, smirking up at him through my eyelashes. "Such a good boy, always willing to share your toys."

He leans forward and suckles my nipple just the way I like, pulling off slowly to fix me in a gentle gaze. "Only with them, though. I like to keep it in the family."

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