Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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21st September 2015 09:26 - not okay, but just fine
Title: not okay, but just fine
Author: [info]tryslora
Characters/Pairings: Ron/Hermione, Ron/Hermione/Ginny, background Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: small breasts, alternate pairing (any two Weasleys/any female)
Other Warnings: infidelity, pegging, double penetration, incest
Word Count: 3,811 words
Summary/Description: Ron loves his wife. He does. But sometimes he daydreams about the little things, like tits so tiny he can fit them in the palm of his hand or swallow them with just one bit. And Ginny? She’s got the perfect set of little tits.
Author's Notes: The alternate pairing said “go wild” and um, I have this definite head canon of Ginny built with these spare hips and breasts, and then I thought of Ron, and earth-mother Hermione, and I just… I had to do it. The title is totally from Ron’s rationalizing head. Thank you to M for reading; so many <3 for you, hon.



Ron loves his wife. He does. He’s loved Hermione since she was a complete know-it-all when they were eleven, and he loved her through a war. Nothing is ever going to change that.

But sometimes he daydreams about the little things. Small things, like tits so tiny he can fit them in the palm of his hand, or swallow them into his mouth in one bite. Wee little breasts that are mostly nipple, rather than bouncing flesh that’s tipped with a tiny areola and just a nip of flesh.

Hermione’s got lovely tits. Ron’s got it on authority—from when he’s out with the lads at a bar and they see a bird with tits just like ‘Mione’s—that hers are what blokes are looking for. Even Harry’s talked about it, said Hermione’s got a great body and sometimes he wishes Ginny were just a bit more like her on top.

Ron told him to shut up, because he doesn’t want to think about his sister that way.

Except after that, he can’t stop thinking about his sister that way.

Because Ginny? She’s got the perfect little set of tits. She never wears a bra, just goes without so anyone can see the small curve, the way they tilt up at the nipple, all puffed and swollen when she’s calm, and tight and turgid when she’s cold (or turned on).

The thing is, it’s Ginny. It’s not like Ron’s going to fuck his sister. They aren’t even going to get naked together, which is kind of a pity because those tits are meant to be worshipped, and it sounds like Harry doesn’t even appreciate them.

Except then, suddenly maybe it is possible. Maybe there’s a reason and a way.

If only he can talk Ginny into it.

#

“You want me to what?” Both of Ginny’s eyebrows rise up, and Ron’s hand falls to his wand just in case because Ginny’s bloody well fast with a hex.

“I want you to fuck my wife,” Ron says slowly. “In the arse. With one of those bloody dildos, obviously, since it’s not like you’ve got a prick for it.”

It sounded more reasonable in his head, before the words came out and fell on the table between them, leaving Ginny looking at him like he’s mad.

“You want me to fuck Hermione in the arse,” Ginny says slowly.

“While I’m in her fanny, yeah. It’s not like I’ll be fucking you.” Ron licks his lips nervously, and his gaze drops just low enough to see where Ginny’s tits have turned into tight nubs, poking out at the fabric of her shirt. “Might… might touch your tits. If that’s what you want. I mean, you’ll want to get off on this too, yeah?”

“Ronald—”

He holds up a hand. “Don’t bloody well start with me, Ginny. I saw you snuggling with Hermione and you had your hand up her bloody shirt.”

Ginny’s cheeks flame brightly. “My hand was cold.”

“You were warming it between her tits,” Ron says sharply. “And it’s not like I mind. We went to bed after you left and I fucked her into the mattress, played with her tits like she likes, got my mouth on her arse. And she told me she wants someone else in her bed, wants two of us to take her at the same time. I’m not going to let another bloke bugger my wife, but I figured that of all the people I know, I might be able to trust you with it.”

Ginny sits back from the table, one hand out of sight, and Ron can just imagine the heel of her hand pressed tight to her crotch. She bites her lip and Ron watches the path of her teeth, watches the rise and fall of her chest. “So we fuck her at the same time,” she says slowly. “And what about Harry?”

Ron winces, remembering bitter jealousy from when they were teenagers. “I’d rather he weren’t there,” he tells her.

“I need to think about it. Maybe talk to Hermione.” Ginny pushes away from the table, leaving her tea to get cold.

“Sure. Yeah.” Ron stands as well, and Ginny’s gaze drops to his trousers, to where his prick is tenting inside his pants. He idly reaches down to shift himself so he’s somewhat more comfortable, and her gaze lingers there, tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Is it me being starkers that you’ve got a problem with? Or me seeing you?”

“It’s been a long time since Mum tossed us in the same bath, but I think I can manage seeing you naked without losing my lunch,” Ginny says tartly, smirking slightly. “Or is it that you’re worried about what you’ll think when you see me?” She takes the hem of her shirt, lifts it and drops it back into place so quick that Ron barely gets a peek. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you staring, Ronald Weasley. So you just sit back and think about that, and give me the time I need, yeah? I’ll get back to you.”

She stops at the door on the way out, looks back. “Maybe when I talk to Hermione we’ll come up with a different plan. Maybe we’re going to bugger you.”

His breath catches and he has no idea what he thinks about that. “Let me lick your tits, and you’re on,” he says, and Ginny laughs, a sweet, bright sound that leaves him aching and hard and hungry when she’s gone.

It only takes a few strokes before he’s coming right there in the sunlit kitchen, rushing to clean up the mess before Hermione gets home.

#

Ginny never gets back to him.

Instead he comes home one day to find Hermione in the kitchen and Ginny sitting on the counter holding a dildo in her hand, showing Hermione how it fits into the strap. The conversation falls away as soon as Ron’s through the door, and Ginny grins at him, hefting the long, fake prick. “What do you think?”

Ron can’t breathe. He honest to Merlin cannot breathe, not with the way Ginny’s watching him, her tiny breasts peaked with visible hardened nipples, and ‘Mione… Merlin, ‘Mione is just waiting, a spoon in her hand, as if it’s either dinner or sex and she’d be happy to go either way.

“I think…” He struggles for a breath, comes up behind Hermione to hold her loosely, tugging her back against his already hard prick. “I think that’s up to Hermione, Ginny, since it’s all about her arse.”

“I picked it out.” Hermione nudges him back away from her, turning in his arms. “As you say, it’s all about my pleasure and I wanted one that I thought would be easy enough to take in, yet thick and long enough to stimulate and satisfy. Also, you’re going to feel it and I wanted that to be pleasurable as well.”

“You researched the dildo my sister is going to use to fuck you up the arse,” Ron says, and he doesn’t know whether he’s horrified or aroused by that. Both, really, which is typical with him and Hermione. Her intellect is equally terrifying and arousing.

“Harry knows I’m having a bit of girl time with Hermione tonight, so we don’t have to worry about him.” Ginny sets the dildo and harness on the counter so she can hop off, skinning her shirt off as she goes. She drops it on the floor, leaving her bare breasts right there for Ron to ogle, the nipples large enough that they seem to be most of her breast, tipped and hard, just right for suckling. There are freckles dotting the skin of her chest, all around her breasts, and Ron wants to map every single fucking one with his tongue.

She’s his sister and it’s wrong, but at the same time, she’s the one standing there with her shirt off so he can fuck her tits with his eyes.

Ginny clears her throat, and Hermione hooks a finger under Ron’s chin, lifts his head so he’s looking Ginny in the eyes. “We have rules,” Ginny says. “One, you can touch me with your tongue and your hands, but not your prick. Two, we both get to come before you do. Three, I can do anything I want with Hermione, and if I make her come faster than you can, I get a second orgasm before you get your first.”

“An orgasm is not the bloody snitch,” Ron whines, and she just laughs. He wonders how he didn’t think that she’d bring her competitiveness to bed. He wonders how the hell Harry survives it on a regular basis.

“Four,” Hermione says, and his attention swings to her, wondering when she got her blouse open and where her bra went, her heavy tits hanging there right in front of him. “If it’s good, we’ll do it again. Good might be defined by number of orgasms achieved before you pass out.”

“Five, if you pass out, and we’re not done, we get to keep going,” Ginny says quickly, flashing a grin. “Which might be covered under rule three, but I thought I’d get it out there, just in case.”

Ron might just be feeling faint, his knees week and every ounce of blood filling his cock. He palms his crotch, flushing when both women look at him and smirk, and he wonders what they’d be like on their knees sucking on him like a fucking lolly.

Can’t think about it or he might go off.

“Bed,” he says, and it comes out strangled. Ginny grabs the dildo and harness from the counter, and sheds clothes as she walks down the hall. Hermione flicks her wand so that the discarded items follow along like a parade, and Ron just watches them all go. He pauses in the kitchen long enough to strip first, his clothes trailing after the rest, and he catches up just in time to watch all the clothes fall into the laundry basket in the corner.

Hermione’s wand lies on the nightstand, while she sits on the edge of the bed, her tongue tucked between her teeth as she focuses on helping Ginny fix the straps of her harness. The dildo she’s chosen has a bulb on one side, and Ginny parts her lips, freckled and lightly furred with red, to let Hermione slide it into her, then set the straps around it, holding it in place. It juts out like a real prick, the skin tone matching Ginny’s and freckles trailing down the side. Ron wonders if they sent it like that or if it magically changed to match.

Doesn’t really matter how it works. With Ginny’s narrow hips and muscled build, the prick looks almost real if he can ignore the straps. His gaze rakes over her as she strokes one hand along the length, her other hand coming up to tease her tit, twisting the nipple.

She catches him staring. “Don’t just look. Bloody well do something about it.”

“Bed,” Hermione orders, and as soon as Ginny is lying on her back, Hermione crawls onto the bed, straddling Ginny’s face and lowering her slit to her mouth. There’s a low whine, and Ginny’s hips lift as her tongue darts out to lick a line along Hermione, before Hermione grinds down hard.

It’s fucking hot, that’s what it is.

Those perfect, perky little breasts are right there, in his bed, and he can touch them. He circles one nipple with his finger, listens to the way Ginny whines under his touch, and it’s almost too much for him. He wonders how sensitive they are, how quickly she gets off when Harry plays with them, or if Harry just ignores them because they’re not big enough.

They’re plenty big in Ron’s eyes. He stretches out next to her, leans in to lick across her nipple, tease at it, flick it then nip lightly. She squirms and presses up, and he obliges by taking her entire bloody tit (oh holy fuck but that’s incredible) into his mouth, sucking lightly while his tongue still teases at her nipple. His hand slides down her body, and nudges into the fur that peeks through the straps of the harness. It’s not going to be easy, but he manages to get one finger between straps and slit, sliding into the slick mess of wet that’s already there. He can feel the bulb stretching her, the way her hips lift against his seeking finger, and he lightly circles the nub he finds while he suckles at her breast.

She stiffens almost immediately, clenching her thighs tight as her hips buck up into his touch then fall again as she gasps for breath. “Fuck. Ron.”

Distraction is always a great way to win with Ginny. While she’s still coming down from the swift orgasm, he straddles her, dick held high away from her, setting himself so he can lean in, lift Hermione’s bum into the air just enough that he can part her cheeks and get his mouth on her. He licks from her slit up over her perineum to her bum, circling the hole before he goes back down again. There’s a soft growl from Ginny, and both their hands are on Hermione’s bum, tangling with each other, dragging her in both directions.

Hermione rocks between them, with little whimpers and cries. She arches her back and gasps, and Ron realizes that Ginny has one hand on her nipple, pinching hard. He doesn’t want to be outdone, so he wets a finger and inches it into her bum, feeling the way she relaxes and pushes back as it goes in. She’s hot and tight, and Ron almost envies Ginny for getting to take her this way, but in the end, Ron would rather have her fanny. He loves the way she clings to him, the way she seems made for him, lets him spill inside of her. His hips rock in the air thinking about it, a thin drip falling from the tip of his prick.

He licks at her arse, lapping at her while she grinds against Ginny’s face with small whimpering cries, her hips rotating between them. He feels the moment that she starts to come, the shiver starting in her thighs, sliding up her body until she shudders and falls back against Ron, letting him take her weight.

He pulls her off of Ginny and rolls onto the bed, Hermione cradled between the two of them so that Ginny can roll to face them both.

“We’re not done yet,” Ginny murmurs, fingers tracing paths over Hermione’s chest, teasing near her nipples without touching them. “We’re going to keep going until you are absolutely unconscious with pleasure, Hermione. What do you think? You ready to be fucked by a pair of Weasleys?”

Ron is hard and aching, and he wants to bury himself in Hermione, sink into her wet heat and fuck her until he comes. He tugs, and Ginny helps lift her, settles her over his hips until Hermione rocks easily against him, the head of his cock rubbing against her clit. “You want to get off like this?” he asks her, touching her breasts while he looks at Ginny kneeling behind her, imagining that it’s those tiny, perfect tits that he’s touching. “You want to rub off against me, ‘Mione?” He tugs her closer, sucks a mark against her collarbone, feeling the way she bucks against him.

There are fingers sliding along his length, stroking him while Ginny slips her fingers into the wet, slick mess of Hermione’s fanny. Hermione groans and Ginny pushes harder, leans down to take Ron’s bollocks into her mouth, and… “Bloody hell, that is not fair play.”

“You’d better get her off before I do, brother dear,” Ginny whispers against his skin. “And before you come. I know you want to. I know you’re bloody well aching to. But not yet, not until we’re both inside of her.”

His hips buck, stroking his prick against Hermione’s clit, fingers reaching back to play with her arse while Ginny finger fucks her. It doesn’t take long between the two of them, before Hermione is crying out, hips tilting to let Ron thrust into her and feel the final tremors of her orgasm. She falls forward, hands against his chest, nuzzling at his throat while he cradles her close.

“Don’t move,” he says, voice strangled. He’s on the edge, as if any second he could come and it’s only sheer willpower keeping the orgasm at bay.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Hermione murmurs, breath tickling his skin. “I’m limp.”

Ginny kneels behind her, stroking the fake prick that juts out from her hips. “Are you ready for me?” she asks, hands smoothing over Hermione’s bum. She parts Hermione’s cheeks, rubs her thumb against the hole that Ron knows should be slick.

Hermione nods her head once, arches her body and it moves her hips, lets her slide along Ron’s prick until he groans with need.

Ginny opens Hermione up with care, working in one finger, then another and another, her other hand on Hermione’s bum to keep her from moving. Ron can feel Ginny’s fingers on his prick, stroking him through the thin wall that separates them. Hermione whines, and Ginny whispers soothingly, withdraws her fingers and starts to press in with her prick instead.

He can feel her. He can feel every bit of her as Ginny slides in, pressing in just a bit before she pulls back, then a little further on the next thrust. It’s torture, driving him absolutely mad as he looks at her, leaning over Hermione’s back, tiny breasts swaying with every thrust.

It’s fucking hot, is what it is. The flush beneath her freckles, the intent expression with her mouth slightly open, tongue flicking out as she draws back and thrusts in, fucking Ron as surely as she fucks Hermione. Ron’s eyes flutter closed, and he can’t stop seeing it, can’t stop seeing the way his sister looks while she fucks his wife.

“Gin… Ginny.” Her word is a breath, an oath on his tongue. He hitches his hips, grips Hermione, lets his fingers tangle with Ginny’s as they find a pattern, push and pull, fucking into her like a doll. Hermione whimpers, quivering, hovering on the edge of another orgasm, like it’s going to roll through her any second and keep on going. When he opens his eyes again, Ginny meets his gaze, squeezes his hand, and he licks his lips, wishing he could taste her.

“You take care of Hermione,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’ll take care of you.”

She leans forward at his words, wraps a hand around Hermione and he feels her fingers where he enters her, teasing at Hermione’s hooded nub. He can reach Ginny now, hands sliding up her muscled torso to cup her perfect little breasts, thumbs flicking against her nipples. He pinches them roughly, and her hips jerk forward, Hermione crying out in response.

He’s close. He’s so fucking close, and he just wants to come. He wants to fill his wife, wants to see his sister shake apart at the seams. “Come on, Ginny,” he whispers. “She’s going to come because of you. And you, you’re going to come apart all because of me. You can feel my prick, and it’s my hand on your tits. You’re thinking about what if I licked you, what if I fucked you with my tongue while I squeeze these sweet nipples. You’re thinking about how much I love your little breasts, how much I want to worship them, want to suck on them. Bet I could make you come from that alone, Ginny, bet Hermione and I could both do it, and you’d be quivering beneath us. Come on, Ginny. Come.”

He’s rough with her, twisting her nipples, teasing at her breasts while his hips push up against her fake prick. Ginny starts to shudder, and she pushes in hard, twists her hips as Hermione cries out, shaking between them. Seeing the shock in her eyes, watching Ginny go over the edge at the same time as Hermione reaches her peak again is more than Ron can take. His thighs tighten and he thrusts up, spurting thickly into his wife as she lies on his chest, breathing heavily, whispering his name.

Ginny withdraws and Ron rolls Hermione to one side, cradling her between himself and his sister. “I love you,” he whispers against her lips, and she smiles, sated.

“Thank you,” Hermione whispers in return, and a moment later she is asleep, breathing easy.

Ginny sits on the bed, her hand on Hermione’s hip, idly tracing the marks left by their fingers, imprinted on her skin. “I should probably go,” she murmurs.

“No rush,” Ron says. He lets his gaze drop to her chest, then lower, to where the harness still cradles her narrow hips, the prick still jutting out proudly, dripping with slick. When he raises his gaze again, she is watching him evenly, waiting. He smiles slightly, gestures at the bed. “Hermione likes to snuggle. Whatever she said about me, forget it; she’s the one that likes to sleep after we’re done, and she’d rather you’re here for it.You don’t need to leave, unless you need to get somewhere else.”

Ginny worries at her lip, drops her gaze as she works the buckles on the harness. “I told Harry I’d be having a few drinks with Hermione, that I might not be home tonight if we had too many. So there’s no rush for me to leave.”

“Then stay.” Ron glances at the bed, then back to her. “It’s okay, Ginny. Stay.”

It’s not okay. He knows it’s not okay. She’s his sister. She’s his best mate’s wife. But at the same time, he wants her to stay, wants to snuggle in close to Hermione and know that Ginny’s on the other side, and maybe wake up and do it all over again. He wants to get his mouth on those sweet tits, wants to get his mouth on her fanny. Wants to taste what it feels like when Ginny comes, wants to watch Hermione take her with the harness around her hips and that same prick jutting out.

It’s not okay.

But when Ginny simply nods and stretches out on Hermione’s other side, he feels himself go lax and he smiles. He meets her hand on Hermione’s hip, tangles them all together, and he listens to Ginny’s breath go soft and easy with sleep.

She’s his sister. He knows how wrong this is, but at the same time, he can’t help feel that it’s right.

At least for now, with Hermione and Ginny here together, everything’s just fine.
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