Title: Diamond in a Swamp
Author: purplefluffycat
Pairings: Draco Malfoy/Gregory Goyle/Vincent Crabbe
Themes: Curvophilia (attraction to heavier/fuller-figured partners), 69, Switches
Content: Oral, anal, voyeurism, threesome, frottage, masturbation, pearl necklace, dirty talk, power play, D/s dynamics, mild humiliation, student/student sex
Rating: NC-17
Words: About 2200

Summary: It wasn't just that they were big, Draco thought as he shuddered with his own touch, and the sight before him, it was that they were fat. His cock leapt as he alighted upon the word: so simple; so taboo.

Notes: Last time, I wrote something that was a bit story-driven, arguably a bit sweet, and only just porny enough to be here. This isn't: it's filthy.





"Right, lock the door." Draco settled back on his four-poster bed. Greg lumbered across the room to make sure that the door was, indeed, shut, and that no one could disturb the three of them, alone in their dorm.

Vince stood, doing nothing in particular, with his unquestioning eyes still on Draco.

When Greg returned, Draco smiled, and, in his silkiest voice gave his next instruction: "Now, kiss each other."

They both frowned a bit at that.

"'Ere. We were gonna fuck," said Vince.

"Yeah, not make-out like girls," added Greg.

Draco smirked. "I said, 'kiss each other'".

Reacting instinctively to Draco's tone, neither Greg nor Vince would argue further. Instead, they eyed one another, a bit unsurely. Draco's cock began to swell.

"Get on with it, then," he chided - and almost as one, they lunged for each other, open mouths clashing in embarrassment and challenge and an affection that neither one would ever or could ever put into words.

Thick lips wrestled with thick lips, and groans rang around the subterranean chamber as sullen tongues clashed and fought. Big, clumsy hands grasped cauliflowerish ears and grazed along stubble, and clothes that were never very tidy became distinctly less so.

Relaxing back on his pillows, legs splayed, Draco drank in the sight. He loved the size and power of their forms, and, locked together like that - pushing and pulling almost as one - it was more than double the turn-on.

And the most delicious thing was, Draco thought: they were under his control.

"Right, now start to undress each other." His voice was becoming a little ragged, and he could already feel the heat rising in his blood.

Greg was wearing a jumper, shirt and trousers of the usual school sort, but Vince was just wearing thick robes that day, the kind that buttoned from the neck down to the hem in the old pureblood style. Both of them were barely contained by their clothing. They had grown taller and broader, month on month, nature keeping each in exact proportion to the other, like giant twins. They both strained at their garments, trousers a bit too short, and shoulders a bit constricted. The sheer size of them made Draco hard; they were probably the biggest guys he had ever seen. All of that brute mass - unseasoned, unrefined - did things to him that even he could not explain.

Vince and Greg broke apart, breathless, and began to fumble with one another's fastenings. Concentrating, they made grunting sounds of frustration and heat; Draco's eyes were pulled to the swell in both of their crotches and he slipped his own hand downward as he waited for the rest of the scene to unfold.

It wasn't just that they were big, Draco thought as he shuddered with his touch and the sight before him, it was that they were fat. His cock leapt as he alighted upon the word: so simple; so taboo.

Sure, Draco had an appreciation for a huge, fit muscly guy as much as the next queer, but that kind of carefully-curated, hard body didn't quite do it for him in the same way. Theirs was all about vanity, after all, Draco thought - and then smirked as he reflected he probably had enough vanity to go round, anyway.

No; Greg and Vince had bodies that were huge and raw and imperfect; everything that wasn't socially acceptable for a high-class pureblood - and that was exactly what made his prick ache. They gorged themselves on junk, and just didn't seem to give a shit how fat it made them, stuffing down suet puddings and fried bread like the world was running out of food. And then they'd lay around scoffing sweets in the dorm when everyone else was doing a bit of study, getting up occasionally to thump a first year or bully a Hufflepuff out of some pocket money. They did everything that Draco told them to - and even more importantly, everything that Draco secretly would do, if only he hadn't been born a Malfoy, with his good looks and fine accent and standards and expectations to maintain and uphold. But he could certainly get a thrill from watching.

Vince had pulled Greg's shirt loose, and it was half-undone, pullover long forgotten. "Unbutton his trousers," commanded Draco, and Vince nodded, abandoning the rest of Greg's shirt for his friend to remove himself, while he reached lower.

It wasn't easy, though: the waistband was folded over as it stretched to maximum capacity, straining at the buttons. Vince struggled to get any purchase on it, so deeply was it buried in the flesh of Greg's belly.

"Ha," Vince teased, still fumbling, "Who's bin eating' all the pies?"

Greg flushed, the tenting in his trousers increasing as Vince's hands brushed his skin. "Fuck off, lardass," he managed, half-heartedly, and then tried to suck in his gut a bit to give Vince better access.

Draco stroked himself harder, vanishing his underwear beneath his robes for an unrestricted hand job.

"Ugh!" Greg exhaled with relief as the fastening finally came free. His thick cock stood proud in his pants as his trousers sat open across his hips, poking up into his soft belly that hung there. An angry red mark glowered all around what had passed for his waist, and Draco pumped himself harder, just looking at it, revelling in all the imperfection right before him.

"Greg, you can get your own back," he grinned, a little breathlessly. "Don't you think that Vince is wearing too much, still?"

"Yeah," agreed Greg, and tore at Vince's robes. They, too, were stretched drum-skin tight, the seams at Vince's middle looking fit to burst. Greg smirked as he uncovered Vince's flesh and gave him a playful slap on the belly. "Look at that gut!"

"You fuck off," said Vince, but just to keep up his end of the exchange, really. He mainly seemed to be preoccupied by Greg's hands on his body, and the sight of Greg's near-naked body before him.

Draco freed his cock altogether, hitching up his robes. "Now get naked," he commanded. Obediently, they both peeled off the rest of their clothes. "On the bed."

Greg and Vince looked at one another, and with a lustful groan collapsed on one of the four-posters. Together, they made a mountain of flesh: tough muscle overlaid with acres of yielding fat and surprisingly soft, pink skin. Draco thought he could drown in the sight, and just watched, rapt, as they kissed and rubbed and frotted and stroked each other, delighting in the feel of one other in a way they would probably never be willing to admit; a way that seemed almost private between the two of them.

"Now suck each other," Draco barked, and it took a few moments for the other boys to register. They both made to move down the bed, which obviously wasn't going to work.

"No, you morons," Draco snapped, all impatience. "One of you, turn right around." Another pause, and Draco rolled his eyes. "Greg: head where his feet are."

At that, comfortingly specific, instruction, Greg cottoned on and they both set-to, slurping and pumping and fucking each other's faces with cumbersome thrusts of huge hips, and buttocks that clenched and wobbled.

Mesmerised by the sight, and palming himself madly, Draco nearly came right there. He stopped himself right at the edge through, pulling his hand away just as his cock was purple with blood and his balls had started to twitch; he wanted this to last. With ragged breaths, he managed to say: "Vince... on your back. And Greg... give him a good fucking."

It took Vince and Greg a very long time to move, then, so full were their hands and mouths of each other's flesh, and their brains washed with slick lust. But, they did love to fuck.

With a groan that sounded pained, Vince pulled away from Greg, and rolled onto his back, legs splayed open and thighs lifted up toward his chest. Gods, thought Draco, what a huge, fat, wanton. Open and begging for it like that, he looked absolutely magnificent. Greg obviously thought so too, because he wasted no time in lumbering to his knees, getting himself in position at Vince's entrance.

Usually there might be some preparation at that point, but Draco was beside himself. He grabbed his wand from the nightstand, and chucked a spell across the room that made Vince holler with the stretch and Greg's cock coat itself in lube. "Now, get on with it."

They did not need to be asked twice. Greg slammed into Vince, his thick dick disappearing to the hilt. Vince cried out with something like relief and shoved backward, desperate for more as Greg set up a rhythm.

Locked in their heaving, sweaty dance, Draco couldn't help but think how... beautiful they looked. And actually - now he really concentrated - how they were different. Vince carried his weight in a great, hard pot that stuck up before him even as he laid there being rogered, like some massive barrel. Greg on the other hand, was all dimples and flab, with rolls of fat on his back and sides and a pendulous stomach that swayed as he stuck his cock up Vince's arse with greater abandon and enthusiasm than he did anything else in the whole world. As always, Draco was utterly mesmerised.

Indeed, he was so rapt by the sight, that he didn't register when Vince called out, "Oi, pretty boy. Come 'ere."

Greg stilled, out of breath, and winked at his mate through the fog of arousal. "Yeah, come over 'ere, ya fairy," he added.

Draco was thrown from his reverie, and felt a shiver go through him of an entirely new and different kind. "What did you say?" he asked, slowly.

"We said, 'come 'ere!'" they chorused, in unison.

"-Yer deaf?"

Gaping, Draco wasn't sure whether he was devastated or thrilled to be spoken to like that. He didn't need to work it out, though, because somehow, his body knew exactly what it wanted: he rose and crossed the room in something of a trance.

Vince and Greg weren't gentle when they grabbed him and pulled off his clothes. Draco gasped, unsure how to react to the rough treatment, but his skin prickled and his cock sang. When they shoved at his shoulders so that he was flat on his back, Draco cried out. With magic, he could have escaped easily, but without it, he was trapped. Right then, he found himself revelling in the latter feeling, and couldn't believe how much he loved it. He could smell their must and feel the bulk of their weight bearing down on him as those two great hulks loomed over, bent over from their knees and dripping sweat all over him from their chests and their bellies. He could see each individual hair on their bodies and feel the heat of their breath as they panted, eyeing one another's still-hard cocks, and Draco's own.

Then, Greg and Vince had their hands on him. Great, spade-like hands that pushed and grabbed, scratching down his chest, pulling his cock, and stuffing an uncouth finger up his arse.

They looked at one another again, and gave a slow, amused grin.

"Little twink, ain't 'e?" said Vince, clearly pleased with their efforts.

"Yeh. We could snap 'im in 'alf."

Draco knew they were joking... they were friends... right? But there was something about their tone that was almost sinister, and if it was possible for him to have become more aroused, just then he did.

Throwing his head back with abandon, Draco submitted to everything. He loved it more than he could ever have conceived, arching upwards from the bed and splaying his legs to give them better access. He could feel their lumpen hands on his thin chest and tiny, taut stomach, the prickle of their hairs and the grunting of their breath. He was sandwiched between their heavy forms; soft and solid and overpowering all his senses with sheer bulk and force and heat. It was phenomenal.

Suddenly, though, the rough hands disappeared. Draco cracked his eyes open just to see Greg and Vince cry out their climaxes in unison as they clutched each other's erections - and then ropes of hot come erupted all over him, covering his face, matting his hair and slathering his torso from neck to cock.

For Draco, that was the final straw. His world went blank and wordless as his own orgasm hit with stupendous force, his own seed mingling with the other boys' all across his sullied young body.

The world seemed to stop for minutes. Draco couldn't speak or move. They stayed like that, with them all pressed together; a diamond in a swamp.

Finally, with his belly still heaving with the exertion, Vince barked out a laugh. "You're a pretty picture, Malfoy."

"Yeah," Greg agreed, "Look at 'im!"

Lying bone-limp in the delicious squalor of it all, Draco couldn't help but agree they were right.