Hermione Granger with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter

Hermione was in her bedroom at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, where she lived with her two best friends (and secret lovers) Ron and Harry. She had just finished stripping down to her lingerie and was just about to put on her nightgown when she felt a familiar arousal press into her ass. The sting of lips on her neck.

"Ronald, not tonight, darling," she chided.

Ron did not answer. He spun her around and kissed her roughly. Hermione let forth an audible moan into his mouth - part protest, part desire. As the pair kissed, Ron's hands wandered: down her back, to her waist. He played with the elastic of her panties, before he ran his fingers down further still, heavily caressing her bum and between her legs.

"Mmmm….no, no…." Hermione panted, trying to throw up the last of her defenses. Ron squeezed her bum, first one cheek and then the other, eliciting a gasp from his love so sharp, she pulled away to gain breath. "I can't, you know I can't get out of bed after we make love," she gasped, even as she looked at him with brown eyes dark with lust. Ron petted her bum again, effortlessly hitching her one leg up so that it wrapped around his waist, before lifting Hermione clean off the ground.

That did it. Hermione crashed her lips back to his, moaning in agreement and want. Yes, yes, you can take me, she thought. She folded her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, her hands buried in his hair, as he carried her to the bed and threw them both on it. Hermione landed on something soft, but not as soft as the bed. A small "Ooof!" was heard. Hermione squeaked into Ron's mouth and tore her lips away from his…only to have them crushed again by another pair from behind her. Harry. She groaned and melted. "Mmmmm…."

As she kissed Harry back, hands were touching her everywhere - unclipping her bra, removing her panties. Whose hands were whose she did not know, nor did she care. She was here with her boys…and they were about to ravish her in ways she could not possibly imagine. When the Boy Who Lived and the Greatest Witch of Her Age broke apart, Hermione was bursting with happiness.

"Excellent work, Ron," Harry hissed. "You do the seducing better than me."

"Always the tone of surprise, mate," Ron retorted.

"Well, gentlemen, you have me," Hermione smiled. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Stuff entirely new," Ron explained. "And, no, it isn't anything from that Eighty Shades of Gray stuff."

"Fifty."

"Whatever. We - Harry and I - were wanting to take our sex with you to the next level - the procreation level."

Hermione stared. "You…you want to make a baby with me? Get me pregnant? But…we're not married!"

"Doesn't matter. The three of us can marry anytime in the next 9 months: preferably sooner than later, before a baby bump starts showing."

"Ron's right." Harry explained. "We want a baby. And we want you to be its mother. The four of us can be a family: together."

Hermione eyes filled with tears and she nodded. She stretched provocatively beneath them. "Make love to me. Fuck me."

"With pleasure, Miss Granger," the boys chorused and they began.

Hermione kissed each of them tenderly, her arms twisting around their necks to pull them closer. She could feel herself lift slightly as Harry's erection pressed against her bum. Harry's hands touched and massaged her breasts, making the nipples perky. Ron ran fingers down her thighs, and she inhaled sharply, involuntarily spreading her thighs wider at his touch, splaying her legs so she was almost spread-eagle on the bed. Then Ron's face was between her legs and she didn't care anymore. He feasted on her vagina, her womanhood, squirming his tongue deep into her while Harry suckled her breasts, her nipples, like a newborn. Her vision blurred. She bucked, her center slapping into Ron's face, her lower half crashing back onto Harry's legs, the bedsprings creaking and shaking.

"Oh…oh…oh…OHHH! Yes, yes, yes!" she shrieked as she writhed in some bizarre limbo between pain and pleasure. She loved what they could do to her, make her do to them. If this was the teasing, she could only imagine what it felt like to have them slamming their penises into her with the intent of creating life. She just hoped they got to it; she did not know how much longer she could last before she climaxed.

Then she felt Ron enter her, his manhood stretching and probing inside of her. Seconds later, Harry followed through the crack in her arse. The feeling of both of them screwing her from opposite ends simultaneously was so bloody enthralling she damn near blacked out. Her one hand held the back of Harry's head in a vice like grip, the other Ron's shoulder blades, keeping him close and deeper.

"Move over," she heard Harry grunt, and she felt herself sink into the mattress as Harry wriggled out from behind and underneath her and flank Ron. He petted her thighs and Hermione felt herself open wider than she had ever thought possible.

And then? Oh, she could not even describe it now. The sensation of not one, but two men inside her from the front. She did not think it could be done. She screamed in glee, clawing at both their backs. And then, she came.

"BLOODY HELL!" she roared, as her orgasm split over her like a wave. Seconds later, Harry and Ron followed her in rapid successions, like aftershocks from an earthquake. Ron suddenly raised his wand, and a purplish light flashed briefly over her abdomen as the boys rolled off her at last.

"Wha…what was that for?" she wheezed, as they lay together, choking for air.

"We said we only wanted one baby, did we not?" Ron reminded her.

He was right. Several months after their official marriage, a baby was born to them with red hair, emerald-green eyes and Hermione in every other feature. Transfiguring one sperm to be both of the boys' at the same time had worked wonders.