A splash of Trio!smut
Aug. 16th, 2003 09:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quidditchgrrlI sent this to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lissinthecity this morning in an attempt to relieve her boredom and make her feel better. Don't know if it accomplished either goal; it may have put her into an even weaker state. :D
Initially written for The Smutty Classroom for their Female Orgasm Day (July 31, incidentally) Challenge.
Title: Esoteric
Rating: NC-17 for sexual situation (and female orgasm will always
rate NC-17 unless you're faking it)
Archive: For the Female Orgasm Day Challenge at the Smutty Classroom
and in my LJ.
Disclamer: Uh-uh, not mine. I do promise to put their clothes back
on before returning them to JKR.
She thinks this was the way it was always meant to be, that she was
put here to be between them, polish the rough edges of the two, and
create one whole where three once stood.
His arousal is hard against her back, and she can feel his hips
lightly grinding into the curve at her waist. It makes her want
more, things that she only dreams about in the dark of the night,
things that aren't nearly so easy to manage in the weak light of the
moon.
In front of her, another lover holds her legs apart and slides into
place between them, separating the soft flesh that is the focus for
all three. She moans a little when calloused hands begin to rub her
breasts. Maybe they've timed it so that it will all start at once; a
hot, wet heat pushes into her folds at the exact same time, sending
her nerves sizzling like water droplets hitting a frying pan. Her
back arches and all hands tighten to hold her still.
He, lying between her splayed legs, always thought, when he grew old enough to think of female anatomy
beyond the ephemeral, going down on a woman would be something less
than enjoyable. Now he knows that whatever has been said about
cunnilingus (a funny word, that, almost as if you were moving your
tongue around in imitation of the act itself) was myth. To hear the
moans and cries of a woman in the midst of orgasm is the most
arousing thing in the world, he thinks, and when those sounds come
from his woman, the effect is nothing short of astonishing.
The taste is a little salty, a little sweet, and a little bitter,
like sea salt melting on his tongue. He laps at her like an ocean
wave at first, licking firmly over her folds. She moans a little and
moves to maximize the contact, and he gently pushes her legs further
apart. He knows that she wants him to make her wait and tightens his
grip on her thighs before giving her exactly what she craves,
swirling his tongue over her clitoris, pushing and flicking.
Looking over her shoulder, another man has a bird's eye view of the scene. He
bites his lip at the sheer eroticism of what he sees, thrusting
forward to simultaneously build and release the tension growing in
him. They must all look the same - sweaty, hot, flushed, aroused,
limbs wound together - but cut from separate flesh. His hands are
busy over her torso, alternately stirring and calming her fervor for
release. She grinds back against him, seeking even more heat than
she is creating, meeting his movements. When she starts to tremble,
he captures her mouth with his, arching her more fully into his
stroking hands. This is how he likes to ride out her orgasm; he can
feel it shimmy through her nerve endings, into her lips and tongue as
she cries out her release into his mouth. Her need for him is what
makes him burn.
Muffled sounds emanate from each of them; she is wound so tightly,
muscles straining with anticipation as they hold her still against
their stroking for one second, then two. They allow her more
movement when she arcs up sharply; it does seem to her like she's
been flung into the air, through that small space of time when one
feels weightless. She is anchored to the earth by lashing tongues
however, and for the moment, her world revolves around their slip and
slide. Sinking back into their arms, the delicious tingles diffuse
across her skin and evaporate into some strange ether that no one can
see, waiting to gather again for another flight.
lissinthecity this morning in an attempt to relieve her boredom and make her feel better. Don't know if it accomplished either goal; it may have put her into an even weaker state. :DInitially written for The Smutty Classroom for their Female Orgasm Day (July 31, incidentally) Challenge.
Title: Esoteric
Rating: NC-17 for sexual situation (and female orgasm will always
rate NC-17 unless you're faking it)
Archive: For the Female Orgasm Day Challenge at the Smutty Classroom
and in my LJ.
Disclamer: Uh-uh, not mine. I do promise to put their clothes back
on before returning them to JKR.
She thinks this was the way it was always meant to be, that she was
put here to be between them, polish the rough edges of the two, and
create one whole where three once stood.
His arousal is hard against her back, and she can feel his hips
lightly grinding into the curve at her waist. It makes her want
more, things that she only dreams about in the dark of the night,
things that aren't nearly so easy to manage in the weak light of the
moon.
In front of her, another lover holds her legs apart and slides into
place between them, separating the soft flesh that is the focus for
all three. She moans a little when calloused hands begin to rub her
breasts. Maybe they've timed it so that it will all start at once; a
hot, wet heat pushes into her folds at the exact same time, sending
her nerves sizzling like water droplets hitting a frying pan. Her
back arches and all hands tighten to hold her still.
He, lying between her splayed legs, always thought, when he grew old enough to think of female anatomy
beyond the ephemeral, going down on a woman would be something less
than enjoyable. Now he knows that whatever has been said about
cunnilingus (a funny word, that, almost as if you were moving your
tongue around in imitation of the act itself) was myth. To hear the
moans and cries of a woman in the midst of orgasm is the most
arousing thing in the world, he thinks, and when those sounds come
from his woman, the effect is nothing short of astonishing.
The taste is a little salty, a little sweet, and a little bitter,
like sea salt melting on his tongue. He laps at her like an ocean
wave at first, licking firmly over her folds. She moans a little and
moves to maximize the contact, and he gently pushes her legs further
apart. He knows that she wants him to make her wait and tightens his
grip on her thighs before giving her exactly what she craves,
swirling his tongue over her clitoris, pushing and flicking.
Looking over her shoulder, another man has a bird's eye view of the scene. He
bites his lip at the sheer eroticism of what he sees, thrusting
forward to simultaneously build and release the tension growing in
him. They must all look the same - sweaty, hot, flushed, aroused,
limbs wound together - but cut from separate flesh. His hands are
busy over her torso, alternately stirring and calming her fervor for
release. She grinds back against him, seeking even more heat than
she is creating, meeting his movements. When she starts to tremble,
he captures her mouth with his, arching her more fully into his
stroking hands. This is how he likes to ride out her orgasm; he can
feel it shimmy through her nerve endings, into her lips and tongue as
she cries out her release into his mouth. Her need for him is what
makes him burn.
Muffled sounds emanate from each of them; she is wound so tightly,
muscles straining with anticipation as they hold her still against
their stroking for one second, then two. They allow her more
movement when she arcs up sharply; it does seem to her like she's
been flung into the air, through that small space of time when one
feels weightless. She is anchored to the earth by lashing tongues
however, and for the moment, her world revolves around their slip and
slide. Sinking back into their arms, the delicious tingles diffuse
across her skin and evaporate into some strange ether that no one can
see, waiting to gather again for another flight.
Holy Cow!
Date: 2003-08-18 07:21 pm (UTC)Andarta Wildhearth