In one move, I slid down the bed until I was underneath Harry, my left leg brushing Ron’s torso.  Wrapping my arms around Harry’s shoulders and hooking my ankles around his waist, I growled, “Fuck me.”

“Yes,” he groaned.  No further invitation necessary, he braced one hand on the headboard and drove into me.

For a moment, I saw stars.  His entry was so hard and fast, it almost hurt.  Then he moved and all I wanted was more.  I clutched him tighter, feeling our skin stick together, feeling him driving deep into me.

I felt like the most wanton slut on the planet – and enjoyed it.  What sort of person does that make me?  Bad?  Or just one who is embracing her sexuality?  Since I thought the answer lay somewhere in between, I didn’t try to answer my own questions.

Harry rolled us so he was on bottom.  I released my death-grip on him and sat up, forcing him deeper.  His whole body vibrated with the groan that movement elicited.

“Mmmm,” I purred appreciatively.  Curious, I rested my hands on his shoulders and trailed my fingernails down his chest.  He arched his back, silently asking for more.

“You two look good, too,” Ron said.  He was lying on his side, idly stroking himself as he watched Harry and I.

Harry tangled his hand in my hair, pulling my head down so he could rasp into my ear, “Do you want to be in the middle?”

Heat flashed through me so quickly, I couldn’t decide if I’d incinerate or melt.  In the end, I did neither and collapsed onto Harry’s body.

“Ron,” Harry began, “I think Hermione wants to be in the middle of our sandwich.”

A slow smile spread across his face.  “Oh really?”

I braced my weight on my hands, but kept my eyes closed as I felt the mattress shift, then moaned softly when I felt Ron’s thighs against the back of my own.

“What was that spell, Harry?” Ron asked, running his hands over the skin of my back.

Harry arched into me again, murmuring, “Madesco is the one you’re looking for.”  And, before Ron could try it, Harry moved one hand down my back and recited it wandlessly.

It’s a very strange sensation to suddenly be wet in a place never designed to be wet.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked quietly, a little fearful.  I had thought myself adventurous before the previous twelve hours, but hadn’t ever allowed anyone to do what Ron was going to do.

“Relax, bookworm,” Harry answered.  “Bend your back a little...yeah, just like that.”

I tried to relax.  I had seen how much Harry enjoyed Ron doing this to him, but my mind kept getting in the way.  I was anticipating pain too much for me to relax.

“Will it hurt?”  The anxiousness in my voice must have worried both of them, because Ron leaned down to cover my back, while Harry pulled me closer to him.

The feel of their rough, male skin against nearly all of me gave me a light-headed feeling.  I clenched around Harry involuntarily, drawing a deep groan from him that rumbled through me.

Ron nibbled delicately at my shoulders, nipping then licking.  Harry, following Ron’s lead, did the same to my neck.  I writhed slowly between them, feeling like I was on fire.

Harry’s hands found their way up to my breasts, kneading them gently.  Then he moved his mouth to my ear, whispering softly into it.  “That’s it, bookworm.  Let us take care of you.”

I felt pressure at my backside and tensed.

“No, no, bookworm,” Harry whispered.  Then he arched into me again, driving himself deep.  At the same time, Ron entered me.

Pain and pleasure warred.  Ron’s cock was an unrelenting pressure inside me.  Harry kissed away the tears I didn’t realize I was shedding while Ron continued to nibble at my shoulders.

Then Ron moved.  While there was pain, there was also an indescribable pleasure.  Then Harry moved as well.

“Oh...yes,” I hissed, eyes shut.

“You think she’s starting to like it?” Ron asked, stroking in and out again.  I whimpered, causing Harry to laugh.

“Yes, I think she does,” Harry said, running his tongue along my jaw.  “You like being in the middle, bookworm?”

Moaning desperately, I wriggled between them.  The sensations of male skin against mine, of both of them buried within me simultaneously, of Ron’s teeth at my back and Harry’s whispers on my neck was driving me crazy.  I wanted more.

Ron reared back, more on his knees than flat against me and grasped my hips.  He moved within me, driving me forward and back on Harry.

Less than a minute of this dual motion had me trembling and close to climax.  I clenched around Harry again, trying to use him like an anchor.  All it did was serve to drive Harry over the edge.

With a deep groan, Harry came.  His hands scrambled over my skin, over Ron’s hands where they gripped my hips, before landing on my back.  I gritted my teeth and took it, Harry’s climax haven taken me that much closer to my own.

Ron bent down again, hissing in my ear, “Do you like feeling him come inside you?  Do you like knowing you can make us both come like two teenagers without control?”

Without answering Ron, I dropped my head to Harry’s shoulder, breathing heavily, and pressed back against Ron.  Harry, no longer hard, slipped out of me.  I rose onto my hands and knees, but let Ron stay in control.

The shift of position allowed Harry to move further down the bed and begin to suckle on my breasts.  Before I could even begin to moan at the delicious sensation, I began trembling with my climax.

It felt very strange to clench around nothing as the fire swept through me.  As I trembled with my release, I felt Ron’s and Harry’s hands holding me and I felt protected.  Ron thrust twice, then came himself, making me shudder all over again.

After a long minute, Ron collapsed beside Harry on the bed.  I fell atop them, very little of me on the mattress, most of me on either of them.  I rested my head on Ron’s shoulder, my legs sprawled across Harry’s.

“Shagged out, Hermione?” Ron asked, amusement in his voice.

“Maybe,” I replied, coy.  If I hadn’t been so sore, I could have taken them again.  What I needed most right then was a hot bath.

Ron laughed, then continued, “What about you, mate?”

Harry groaned, but answered, “Nearly...but I’m going to need a lot of recovery time first.”

“I take it you’re not?” I asked, looking up at Ron.  He had a dreamy smile on his face as he began running one hand along my arm where it lay across his chest.

He glanced down at me.  “Same as Harry, nearly, but I need a lot of recovery time.”

“We could take a bath,” I suggested.  “I’m feeling sticky.”

Harry chuckled.  “I’m sure you are, bookworm.”  His voice dropped an octave before he continued, “But did you like it?”

They both felt the involuntary shudder of pleasure that ran through me.  How the hell could he ask, “Did I like it?”  Couldn’t he tell?

But I merely answered, “Yes.”

They both rose from the bed, spilling me onto the mattress.  I didn’t want to move and so lay there with my legs and arms spread.

“As inviting as that is, Hermione, did you want a bath?” Ron said, voice low.

I sat up.  “A bubble bath?”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”  With Ron’s answer, I leapt from the bed, but swayed with light-headedness and had to grab Harry’s shoulder.  Too much blood going other places for too long.

As the three of us walked down the hallway – and a distant part of my mind noticed the earlier trail of water I’d followed was now dry – we touched each other in some fashion the entire time.  Whether my hand on Harry’s shoulder, Ron’s arm around my waist, a kiss placed by Harry on Ron’s cheek, we were always touching.

Since his wand was still in the bathroom – did I even want to know why from earlier? – Harry enlarged the tub into a Jacuzzi to fit three, filling it with warm water and bubbles.  The boys allowed me to enter first and settle myself.

I lay back against the rim, eyes closed and arms spread, enjoying the gentle caress of the water in places I’d allowed to be abused.

I must have moaned in sensual pleasure because Ron said, “Don’t moan like that unless you mean it.  We know the difference now.”

My eyes snapped open in time to watch Ron climb in.  Purely as a voyeur, I watched his long legs enter the water, and followed the water level up until it covered the nest of red curls surrounding his half-hard cock then halfway up his chest as he settled himself beside me.  He leaned his head back and rested it on my arm.

“Yes, the moaning distracts Ron,” Harry teased as he entered.  The water slowly covered his legs, which while a few inches shorter than Ron’s were just as muscular and the play of those muscles under his skin was a delicious thrill.  It rose to cover his soft cock where it lay nestled in his dark hair, then over his flat stomach and chest before he settled himself on the other side of me.

“Prat,” Ron said to Harry without heat.  Harry just smiled.

We sat in the water like that for several minutes, allowing the water to work its own magic.

“Harry?” I said suddenly.

“Yes?” he replied cautiously.  I guess I had a certain tone in my voice that put him on the defensive.

“Just who have you had a homosexual encounter with?”  When he didn’t reply immediately, I looked over at him.  He was blushing deep red.  “Well?”

“Draco Malfoy,” he said so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

I merely nodded sagely.  It’s what I had suspected.  “Did it happen toward the end of seventh year?”  Harry nodded in response.  He and Draco had gone from nearly dueling in the corridors one week to assiduously avoiding each other the next.  It would have taken a lot to change that behavior.  Snickering to myself, I continued that thought:  apparently, it took a sexual encounter.

“You shagged Draco Malfoy?” Ron asked, disgusted.

“I didn’t mean to!” Harry protested, splashing me in his agitation.

“Watch it,” I said.  He murmured an apology before returning his attention to Ron.

“How can you not mean to shag someone?  Especially that git?”

“We were fighting and somehow I pinned him to the wall and...well...one thing led to another.”  Harry’s blush deepened to cover his face, ears and neck.

Ron was incoherent, but I still don’t know if it was anger or jealousy.

“Is he a top or a bottom?” I interjected, smiling.

“Top,” Harry answered before thinking about it.

“I so do not want to picture that,” Ron muttered, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Harry reached across me to grab one of Ron’s arms and pulled.  Ron half-fell, half-dove forward, landing against Harry and splashing me again.

“Hey!” I protested, twisting behind me for a towel.

“Sorry,” they replied in unison.  Turning back, I smiled to find their eyes locked to my chest.

“You’re forgiven,” I said.

Harry turned back to Ron, drawing him upward so their faces were even.  “Ron, you are the only man I want –” here, he turned to me “– just as you, Hermione, are the only woman I want.”  He leaned forward and kissed Ron briefly to seal his words.

Warmth flooded me.  He had summarized the feelings I realized the night before in just a few words.  I wrapped my arms around their necks, kissing each on the cheek.

“And you’re both mine,” I said possessively, meeting Ron’s blue eyes and Harry’s green in turn.

Ron laughed.  “So when do you move in, Hermione?”