Plotting, Planting & Pampering
Date: 3 October 2004
Author:
Rating: NC-17, slight bondage, multi, rimming
Pairing: Snape/Pomfrey, Snape/Sprout, Snape/Pomfrey/Sprout
Summary: Just how did Snape end up with two wild and willing witches as partners?Warning: if you read smut, nothing here will surprise you... slightly OOC Sev but wtf...
A/N: I was already writing this one when my sweetheart asked me how the gleesome threesome of "Plants, Palliatives & Potions" had gotten together. So I added that into the storyline. Cheers, cara mia! :)
DISCLAIMER: This non-profit material was produced out of love for the Harry Potter Universe and is not intended to infringe upon JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, nor any other holders of Harry Potter copyrights, in this or any other universe...
"Of all the infernal--""Oh, hush."
"--contraptions!"
"Keep your voice down, Severus, if you don't want a student to wander in and find the Potion's Master being bathed."
"You witch."
"For 60 years and counting, thank you very much," Poppy Pomfrey agreed, dipping her sponge, wringing it out a bit and proceeding to run it along Snape's naked chest.
"You love this, don't you?"
"You've no idea."
She smiled as the sponge ran further down his torso, stopping at the edge of the tiny towel that was the only thing providing Snape any modesty.
His arms were trapped above him, bones ostensibly healing as they were held in the proper position to ensure their full function after knitting together overnight. In the interim, a very sweaty, dirty Snape had brought out the hygiene-conscious medi-witch in Pomfrey. Before he could even think of protesting, she had levitated a flimsy screen before his bed, a tub of sudsy water, and divestio'd his clothing.
"Is this really necessary?" he grumbled for the umpteenth time.
"Yes. You're in an extremely unhygienic state. I have no desire to be treating you for skin infection or boils just because you're too modest to be bathed."
"It's only one bloody nigh--"
"Severus Snape, if you don't shut up, I'll scourgify your mouth out."
To Poppy's surprise, he paled slightly, scowled, but said nothing further.
"That's more like it," she murmured, her re-wetted sponge now running along his long legs.
Snape sighed and tried to get comfortable, shoulders a little strained due to their enforced position.
"This water's nearly grey. I'm going to need a fresh tub."
Pomfrey got up and went to the nearby bathroom, leaving a damp, helpless Snape to fume.
As he waited, he could suddenly hear footsteps.
Heartbeat increasing, it began to pound loudly as a quiet female voice called out, "Poppy? Are you in?"
He cleared his throat and said loudly, "She's not here right now! Come back later!"
To his horror, the footsteps came closer instead of retreating. "Is that you, Severus?"
"Yes! Don't come around! I'm... contagious!"
"Oh, pish," Pomfrey suddenly retorted, reappearing with a fresh tub and looking behind the screen. "You're no more contagious than I am, you silly man. What do you need, Pomona?"
Snape's face paled even furthur at hearing the intruder's name.
"I wanted to let you know the aloe plants are ready to be harvested. I can have my second years do that once term starts, but do you want some fresh and unpicked before then?"
"Yes, please."
"Good." There was a silence, then, "What's wrong with Severus?"
"Nothing a good spanking wouldn't cure."
"I beg your pardon!" He scowled at Poppy who merely arched a brow at him, then looked past the screen again.
"I'm afraid he's been quite the obstreperous patient."
"Oh?"
To Snape's horror, a familiar face peered around the screen. He closed his eyes and swallowed.
"Oh, my!"
"I... I thought patients had privacy rights," he managed to say to Pomfrey, trying to ignore the all-over blush he could feel start at his neck and head and spread outward.
"Good little boys do. Bad little boys..." Pomfrey narrowed her eyes, looked to Pomona who, surprisingly, stood back on her heels and pursed her lips, looking very satisfied with events.
"Poppy..."
"We have him right where we want him, I'd say. Wouldn't you agree, Pomona?"
"I--"
"I never thought I'd see the day."
Snape frowned, uncertain, then refocused on Pomfrey. "Remove the restraints."
"But, Severus, don't you want your bones to heal up right?" she cooed.
He scowled. "You witch. You know damn well, my bones are just fine."
"Oh, what language," Sprout mock-gasped.
"I know, Severus," Pomfrey told him.
His own gaze narrowed and he looked to Sprout who nodded, somehow conveying a sage, but also vastly amused expression.
"Know?"
Sprout smiled, but her expression made him swallow. "Yes, Severus. I know about you and Poppy."
"And I know about you and Pomona."
Severus gulped audibly now and tugged slightly on his bonds to no avail.
"Ladies..."
Pomfrey lifted a brow. "Ladies, is it? A minute ago you were accusing me of being a torturer."
"Poppy..."
Sprout looked grave. "Severus, I would have pegged you for many, many things, but never a two-timer."
"Pomona..."
"I say we let him squirm a bit."
"Oh, he's been squirming, the naughty boy."
"Would you both please not talk about me as if I'm not here?"
"Very well." Poppy perched at the edge of his bed and considered him. "Pomona and I discussed this situation. We came to a decision, Severus."
He sighed, more than a little distressed, particularly about his currently humiliating position. It had all been meant to be a rather naughty bit of fun between him and Poppy Pomfrey - a little bondage, a little role-playing. He'd already recovered from his broken arm and shoulder and he and Poppy had a sort of understanding, but this... he could scarcely believe the two women would do something like this. Well, Poppy perhaps, but Sprout? She was usually far more forgiving of his transgressions. Then again, he thought, the saying that 'witches aren't to be trifled with' has been around for at least seven hundred years.
"I... understand. I'm sincerely sorry that I trod on your feelings, both of you," he murmured, finding it hard to look them in the eye.
"And?"
He looked to Pomona first, then Poppy and sighed, adding, "and I shan't see either of you any more. I don't want to hurt either one of you; that wasn't my intent. I didn't mean for this to... happen. I was selfish and... I won't do it again."
"Hm... what do you say, Pomona?"
"Oh, an eight for sincerity, an eight for eloquence, but..."
Severus swallowed, waiting for the verdict.
"I'd say a two for comprehension, wouldn't you?"
"That much? I'd have given him a zero."
"Ladies..." he ventured again, his already deep voice dropping even lower as he tried to think of something to say that wouldn't involve his arms being wrenched out of their sockets (although he was fairly certain Pomfrey wouldn't abide actual pain) or his having to sneak back to the dungeons stark naked.
While it was still two weeks until term actually started and no students were at Hogwarts, there were still other faculty, and even if there weren't, he'd hate to run into Peeves, who would not care about propriety and the returning children when he made interesting new songs to sing about his anatomy.
"Hush, Severus. Listen for a change."
He waited, damp now with fearful sweat.
The two witches looked at each other, then at Severus. It was Sprout who broke the silence.
"We want to share you, Severus."
He could not have heard right. Clearly he had hearing damage. Did they actually say...?
"She's right, Severus," Pomfrey put her hand on his bare knee and stroked his leg a little, distracting him. "We've talked about it. We want to share you."
"Share?"
He was puzzled. He was not a Lothario by any means, was the funny thing. He was a faithful and devoted lover who rarely made time for romance in his life.
Poppy and he had gotten together after one too many sleepless nights she had spent patching him up after a Deatheater meeting. She had seen him in rages, in pain, bloody, trembling in weakness, fully naked in every way. He had wept with pain, found her hand in his at dawn after long feverish nights, too many times. And one of those pre-dawn mornings when he'd woken, choking back tears from nightmare imagery, pained and feverish, she had kissed his forehead, stroked his cheek and it had been too much for him. He had pulled her to him and kissed her hard, ignoring the pain his movement cost him. He'd been too weak to actually make love to her, but to his astonished gratitude, Poppy had kissed and stroked him to a shattering orgasm, then primly tidied him up and said not a word about it.
It had been the start of a long-going, but surreptitious relationship. It would flare up whenever he ended up in the Infirmary, with her caring for his needs whilst he was recovering and him being more intimate with her after she released him to finish recovery in his quarters. There would come a point, though, where he was fully healed and she did not need to come to his rooms so she did not. Severus, being someone who would not force an issue, did not pursue her.
He had not brought her flowers or poetry. He might have occasionally held her chair for her, but then he did that with many of the Hogwarts female staff - part of the Slytherin chivalric code that had been passed down through the centuries.
His carefully compartmentalized mind had placed her in the "trusted other, sometime lover" category, probably forever to remain as others had been in the past. Then one day, after complaining at dinner that he never seemed to have enough bubotuber pus for the rash salve he always seemed to need to make in the Autumn, he strode to his office one morning to find a big jar of it in the middle of his desk. There was no note, but it could only be from one person. He decided to thank her at dinner, but she was not to be seen, nor did she show up at the Staff tea nor supper.
So after supper, Snape found himself with a jar of emollient salve in his pocket, headed for the greenhouses and Pomona Sprout.
~(*)~
2b cont'd
~(*)~
Disclaimer: see part one.
Plotting, Planting & Pampering, part two.
by OdoGoddess (odogoddess@odospadd.com)
On entering the greenhouse, Snape found Sprout there, feverishly working to keep some very rare cactus plants alive until they flowered - plants that did not do well in a magical atmosphere and could somehow tell the difference between real sun and a solem spell. The cactus flowers were badly needed for certain potions, he knew, and he was chagrined to realize she had been working by herself all day, struggling to keep a nice hot fire going without burning down the greenhouse and without using magic too close to the delicate cactus plants.
"May I be of assistance?" he asked her.
Without a word she'd waved him toward the pile of logs that she could not magic over thanks to the cactus. He wondered how she had managed to keep the fire going this long. Picking up a log, he had added it to the fire, then another.
"Why haven't you asked a detention student to assist you?"
Sprout arched a brow at him, curly hair damp with sweat, her witches hat sacrificed in the name of comfort. "I didn't give any students detention today, Severus."
He considered this, non-plussed, then asked, "How did you manage all day?"
She sighed, extending a non-flamare spell a bit farther out and away from the cacti before answering. "It's not a problem by day. I use a simple magnifying glass and increase the level of sun they get. But at nightfall... well, let's just say I'm glad you arrived. I might have had a spot of trouble getting more logs on the fire muggle-style."
"I didn't see you at lunch, either," he noted.
At this, she looked at him rather more carefully. "I had some damiana and licorice root that needed to be dealt with."
"Why didn't you leave that for your afternoon students to attend to?"
"I'll answer that if you tell me why you even noticed I was absent at lunch."
Snape straightened, surprised at the sharp tone in her voice. He hadn't meant to be questioning her so much as genuinely curious as to her methodology. Each teacher at Hogwarts was different, but very few didn't use the opportunity to foist unpleasant or menial tasks on students, especially students under detention.
"I had wanted to thank you for the pus," he responded uncertainly.
Pomona smiled, a surprisingly sweet gesture that made the sides of her eyes crinkle and look years younger. Severus nearly responded in kind, but took an uncertain step toward the woodpile instead.
"And I don't like to give the students meaningless things to do when they have actual lessons they could be learning," she replied.
He looked up at this and frowned. "Surely--"
"My fifth years already know how to harvest damiana and licorice roots. My first years would damage more plants than they would successfully gather. And I don't fancy allowing a student under detention to work around my plants. Annoyed and bored students don't do the best work."
He considered this and nodded. "Very well."
He was about to leave when it occurred to him to wonder what would happen when she needed another log added to the fire later. "Will you be all right then?"
She looked over to him and what he could only describe as a sly smile curled her lips.
"I'll be just fine, Severus. But if you'd like to keep me company tonight, I wouldn't be averse to hearing your wonderful voice in the night."
His eyes widened at this obvious innuendo even as he felt his face flushing. "Th-there's no call for levity. My offer was genuine."
"Offer, Severus dear? You asked if I'd be all right. I heard no offer."
He considered this and straightened, gathering his composure and clearing his throat. "Very well. If you require assistance keeping the fire going non-magically, I will be glad to help. Or," he hurriedly added, "to send one of my detention students."
Sprout's expression fell and her smile dimmed. Her tone was quiet when she spoke.
"I'm sure I'll think of something, Snape. Go on."
He did, in fact, leave. But something about the conversation kept coming back to bother him as he graded papers the next couple hours and he realized now that he'd forgotten to give her the emollient salve he'd made. Sprout's hands, like anyone who worked in and out of doors using their hands so much, were weathered and often cracked and dry. He thought she could use the salve at the end of the day to soften her rough hands.
He found himself standing as the last paper was completed and, taking his heaviest cloak and a blanket with him, heading once more to the greenhouses.
Pomona had managed to conjure herself a rough wooden chair and was sitting, shivering a little, watching the fire, the cacti, and waving her wand occasionally to spot check the non-flamare charm.
"I hope I'm not intruding," he said quietly.
She did not turn, merely shook her head. "No. And I don't need a detention student, Snape. Have them clean your cauldrons or leave them to Filch."
"I didn't bring a detention student," he responded, stepping in closer.
She turned to notice him standing rather diffidently, wearing a heavy woolen cloak, blanket folded on his arm.
"What brings you then?"
He didn't say anything, merely stepped closer and unfolded the blanket. Pursing his lips slightly, he shook it out and then gently placed it over her shoulders.
Without waiting to see if she would say anything, he bent toward the woodpile and picked up a log to add to the dwindling fire. Once two logs had been added and he'd managed to make it flare up, he sat atop the pile of logs and rubbed at his hands. It was rather icy in the room, despite the fire which only seemed to warm the immediate area near the cactus.
He found Sprout studying him when he looked over at her. He stopped rubbing his hands, brows knitting. "What?"
"You."
He sat straighter. "What about me?"
"Why are you doing this?"
He looked askance. "Those flowers will be necessary potions ingredients. I have a vested interest in making sure those plants flower."
He had congratulated himself that his tone was even and that his argument sounded well-reasoned, so Sprout's next words stunned him.
"You're a fraud."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me Severus Snape. I said you are a fraud."
He stood, but found himself uncertain what to do. He was perplexed and a little annoyed.
"I don't see any need to... cast aspersions."
"Oh, sit down you grumpy git."
"I beg your par--"
She waved her free hand at him, gesturing him to sit back down and, to his surprise, he did.
"Don't get your pants knotted, man. I won't tell anyone."
He tilted his head and gave her an eloquent expression. She smiled.
"Your secret is safe, Snape. No one will find out from me that under those black robes and scowling expressions lies the heart of a gentleman."
She turned her attention back to her wand-waving and cacti after this, leaving a befuddled, uncertain and somewhat flushed-faced Severus.
"Of course," she added after a few moments of silence punctuated only by the crackling of the fire, "those eyes, those hands, and that voice give you away."
"What?"
She looked over to him and smiled kindly, and a little sadly. "Your eyes, Severus, might be black, but they shine with your passions. It's very exciting, you know. And frightening to the students."
"Thank heavens for small favours," he muttered.
"Your hands are quite beautiful. Very expressive."
"Beautiful?" he eyed his pale hands, noting the potion-tinted finger tips and a discoloured nail.
"Yes. They look strong, but elegant. And the way you use them as you work is masterful."
He looked up at this and she added to his face, "And your voice is one of the sexiest I've ever heard."
To his horror, he blushed fiercely and suddenly, making him scowl and look away. "This is... hardly appropriate, Pomona."
"Ah!" her exclamation startled him into looking back at her. "He knows my name!"
At this he rolled his eyes. "Of course, I do. We work together."
"And for all the attention you've paid me I could have been a fat-bottomed cauldron."
Her expression assured him she was deadly serious and her tone told him she was deliberately making a reference to her size. He frowned.
"I was unaware that 'attention' needed paying. This is a school, after all. We are heads of House. It would be--"
"It would be delicious, I assure you," she interrupted with a wicked smile. Then she sighed, not a little theatrically. "Too bad you'll never know."
She kept her eyes on the cacti, casting spot adjustments to the non-flamare spell, steadfastly not looking at him. She did not expect an answer.
So it startled her badly when his deep, wonderful voice murmured behind her, "It's not good to tease a Slytherin."
After recovering from nearly dropping her wand, she quickly checked the spell and the plant and then turned.
"I wasn't," she murmured, standing up to him. "Try me."
The smell of musk and warm wool enveloped her as his lips sought hers out for a surprisingly passionate kiss.
The cacti had flowered in the pre-dawn hours during the next log. After picking them and hanging them to dry, Severus Snape took Pomona Sprout up on her offer. The salve was entirely forgotten as he'd discovered Pomona Sprout's hands, whilst weathered and work-roughened were also strong and gentle...
Which had led to his current and embarrassing situation.
~(*)~
"You want to share me?"Poppy smiled and with a flick her wand, released his bonds. Sprout stepped up and to his surprise, began to briskly rub his aching shoulders and upper arms.
"We discussed it. Now we're discussing it with you," she said matter-of-factly.
"I see."
Pomfrey added, "We're serious, Severus. It would seem to be the best for all involved."
He looked up at this with a frown and Sprout let his arms go and began to tick off points on her strong, calloused, and (he knew) incredibly talented fingers.
"We both like you. We both like each other. We both want to see you. Neither of us minds a shared arrangement."
He considered this and found himself swallowing and blushing as Poppy moved closer and whispered, "And we both rather like the idea of being so... decadent... without the student's knowledge."
"Oh."
Snape had to sit there, a welter of feelings coursing through him. At least one had caused him to start getting an erection, which both women noticed, of course.
"Well, that's one vote," Pomona smiled.
He cleared his throat, annoyed.
"If you both don't mind, I think it might be best to discuss this more privately."
"The students aren't even in school!" Poppy pointed out.
"Somewhere *warmer*," he sighed.
The witches shared a look and smiled.
~(*)~
"Personally, I don't have any arguments against it, although I would have appreciated being consulted first," Snape murmured. He was dressed now; at least he had a robe on, and stood by the fire in his drawing room, the two women seated on his couch.
"No more so than Pomona and I would have appreciated knowing you were seeing the other," Poppy replied.
Pomona nodded firmly at this. Snape sighed again.
"Well, did either of you have arguments against such a... relationship?"
The two women looked at each other and a fond smile passed between them, with Pomona's expression growing wry and her tanned skin tinting slightly pink.
"Ah..." he said in a knowing way. "I take it a bit of... *private* consultation was held."
Poppy blushed slightly, too, before admitting, "Yes, Pomona and I did decide to see if we would be... *comfortable* with each other."
"It made sense," Sprout added. "After all, we want this to be a true partnership."
"Partners." Snape considered this. The more he thought of it, the more he found himself seriously considering the idea. "What would be the protocol involving... myself with one of you or the two of you, etc.? Or had you considered that?"
"We had. It would be a given that there would be instances where two of us might pair off. No bad feelings. But no deliberately excluding the third partner when all three are available."
Snape nodded and Poppy added, "And of course, for those moments when one might be ill or tired or simply not desirous of... *attention*... the other pair could do as they pleased."
"With blessings," agreed Sprout. "After all, we don't always want sex. Nor do we all have the same... rhythm, if you will."
"Indeed."
He turned from the pair to stare into the fire, seriously tempted.
It had been a long time. He only had been with Poppy during his recovery phazes. He'd been with Pomona for brief, but satisfying nightly interludes during the occasional free weekend or holiday if a Deatheater meeting hadn't interrupted him. It would be nice if they all lived together, helping one another, providing each other companionship and maybe even comfort. He considered now how nice life might be.
His reverie was interrupted by a soft touch to his shoulder. Before he could turn, another touch, this time a strong, warm arm slid around his waist.
"There's a very good Muggle saying one of my first years taught me," Pomona told him.
He lifted a brow and silently urged her to continue.
"It's 'try before you buy'. It's supposed to be a sales gimmick, but I like it. It makes good sense."
"Especially in situations like this," Poppy whispered, sliding her own arm behind him and urging him to turn toward his bedroom.
He could think of nothing to say, so instead, he allowed himself to be led to his bedchamber.
A quick flick of Pomfrey's wand widened his bed, which though large, would have been a snug fit for three. Pomona reached over and began to unbutton his robes. Uncertain, he looked from one woman to the other before reaching to undress Pomfrey. Without a word, the medi-witch reached over to undress Sprout.
Soon the three were nude and considering the situation. Both women were very different; Pomfrey tall, slender and elegant, Sprout short, stout and Rubenesque. Both, Snape knew, had very different attributes that made bedding them both exciting and pleasurable.
"Should I...? Who...?"
Pomona rolled her eyes and tugged on his hand, leading him to the bed. A smiling Poppy followed.
"We plan on spoiling you, Severus Snape," she said, pressing herself against his back.
"Yes," Sprout agreed, sliding onto the bed. "No other woman will come close."
"Or man," murmured Pomfrey, adding at Snape's startled blink, "there's always polyjuice, you know."
Before he could process this, Sprout distracted him by tugging at his hand hard and making him fall against her. Pomfrey followed, snuggling against his back.
Snape was surrounded by warm skin and the scent of female musk. It was an enticing sensation, heady, although he kept a part of his mind clear and waiting for possible treachery. It wasn't, he knew, entirely impossible that this was some kind of feminine trap, although the probability of it fell with each passing moment.
Pomfrey's firm, practiced hand cupped his bollocks from behind, even as Sprout's warm, rough fingers stroked at his nipples and teased their way down to his navel.
He wasn't sure what to do, finally opted to focus on the ample breasts before him. He had to admit that Pomona Sprout's breasts were the lushest he'd ever seen. Large and resilient, with sturdy brown nipples that appreciated the touch of his fingers and lips. He applied his mouth to them now and smiled as they crinkled up into tight peaks.
Then he gasped as her warm, work-roughened hands slid over his semi-hard penis, carressing it to firmness, even as Poppy stroked his scrotum and back, teasing her fingers along his perineum and brushing for an exquisite moment over his sensitive anus.
"I... I'm not sure what I should do," he admitted.
"Whatever you like, Severus," whispered Poppy into his ear from behind.
"Yes," agreed Pomona, wrapping her fist around his prick and stroking even as she pulled him closer to kiss him.
Snape gave up his internal argument and many questions and kissed that devilish smile. It was one of the things he liked about Pomona; she was earthy and direct.
As he kissed her and was milked, Pomfrey was busy rubbing her breasts along his back, her hand carressing his bollocks, buttocks and fingering his hole.
It was sensual overload and Severus pulled back, unwilling to let go so quickly.
"Wait," he gasped, fighting the urge to thrust. "I... I don't want to disappoint you."
To his surprise, he didn't know who he was referring to. Neither witch seemed to mind. They merely waited as he caught his breath and calmed himself.
"I'd like... I'd like to be inside... someone," he finally finished lamely. He wasn't sure how this was going to work, especially if they couldn't use the usual discourse one used in bed without possibly alienating someone else.
"Pomona?"
"Go ahead, Poppy. There's something I'd like to try," she smiled wickedly, turning Severus to face their partner.
He gathered Poppy to him and was surprised when she didn't allow him to embrace her side to side, but made him assume his usual position atop her, between her legs.
How would this be fair, he wondered, to Sprout?
But he did not argue, merely bending to kiss her and carress her small, hard breasts with a free hand, fingering her pink nipples as she threw her head back and sighed.
Soon he was rubbing his hard cock against her thigh and manoeuvred himself to slide within her. He slid his mouth to her breasts, his free hand to her clitoris and began to work himself inside her.
"Severus..." she gasped.
"Poppy..." he murmured, pushing forward until he was firmly seated.
They both gasped at this and he began to move, thrusting very slowly and carefully, making sure his length slid along her swollen clitoris as he moved out and around and in.
He was about to start moving faster when he felt firm fingers grasping his buttocks. Another hand grasped his scrotal sac and gently massaged it.
"Ah!" he felt himself about to climax and that hand carefully tugged. The feeling passed and he gasped. "Pomona..."
"Yes?"
Before he could ask whatever he was going to ask, that hand released his balls, joined the other to spread his buttocks and a firm, wet tongue began to wiggle around his opening.
"Ah!" he shouted again, breathing in short, shallow breaths, feeling the abated climax return like a wave to the shore and beginning to move his hips in shallow thrusts into Pomfrey who held him close and kissed and sucked along his neck.
A seemingly interminable moment of short thrusts from Sprout's tongue and Snape's hips and suddenly Poppy cried out, a familiar broken cry he knew signalled her climax. This caused Snape to shudder, move even faster, unable to stop even though he was worried about hurting Sprout. His scrotum tightened and he paused, then he felt a warm finger pressing into his opening slightly, not enough to penetrate, merely ennervating already excited nerve endings, the callouses exciting the sensitive tissue and he felt himself jerk back and into that finger, exiting Pomfrey entirely and his cock began to spurt wildly between them as his hips jerked. Poppy's firm hand reached down to carress his throbbing prick as he gasped out the last of his orgasm.
After a moment he gathered his breath. His thoughts were rather more resistant.
"I think it was a success, don't you, Poppy?" she asked cheerfully by Snape's ear.
"No, indeed not," the medi-witch announced.
Snape lifted his head at this and frowned, as did Pomona. Before either could query, Poppy shifted Severus off of her and looked sternly at Sprout.
"You, my dear, did not enjoy this session as much as Severus and I did."
Snape considered this, thinking back over their session and nodded slowly, forced to concede Pomfrey was right. How could this work if one partner was ignored over the other, he wondered.
"You kiss her, Severus."
He did as ordered, bemused as he realized he was taking orders from a woman and not caring one whit. Pomona kissed as she did everything - in a no-nonsense fashion. His lips and tongue were getting quite a workout as he explored her mouth. At their angle though, only his upper body was along her, his lower body extended away toward Pomfrey's side of the bed.
He began to run his hands down her body and suddenly encountered hair. A brief look down made him realize Pomfrey was laying between Sprout's sturdy thighs. The sight made him gasp and a tingle ran through his otherwise quiescent and satisfied nether regions.
Watching as Pomona threw her head back and Poppy's clever fingers and pink tongue worked on that firm, dark pink clitoris gave Severus a head rush. He kept looking down as he now worked on sucking along Sprout's neck and down to her bountiful breasts.
As he began gently nibbling them, she suddenly threw her arms around him, holding him tightly to her and screamed, her toes clenching and thighs trembling.
Then there was an awed silence.
Pomfrey broke it by sitting up and smiling knowingly. "I thought that would do it."
Severus looked from one witch to the other and drew in a deep breath. It was, he realized, quite an undertaking they were proposing. Daunting, daring, delightful and even dangerous.
_Sounds perfectly Slytherin_, he thought, then smiled. Sprout was a Hufflepuff, and Pomfrey a Ravenclaw. Only he was from the house of serpents.
"I accept," he told them now, sealing his fate.
As the two witches smiled at each other, then turned to him and began to kiss and stroke him, he thought he wouldn't wish this fate on anyone... save him.
~ FINIS ~
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