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And that was how Arthur found himself, one week after his wedding, watching his wife and his childhood - whatever Morgana counted as - undressing each other. (It was a week later because some magical beast had invaded the wedding reception. Arthur had spent around thirty seconds yelling about why the bloody hell couldn’t they get through one single important ceremony in his life without some sort of arcane interruption, and then he and Merlin and everyone else had spent the next week working out how to get rid of the beast, and it was only now that things had calmed down enough for anyone to think about consummating the marriage.)
Arthur had always found women’s clothing to be excessively complicated and unnecessarily baffling, but he could see some of the appeal, now. Gwen and Morgana were working at one another’s fastenings, stopping every so often to kiss, to let fingers linger over newly exposed skin, to exchange amused glances at the sight of Arthur. He couldn’t begrudge them their amusement, much as he would have liked to, because there was no denying how he looked: flushed and slack-jawed in awe, sweat beading on his skin, one hand down his unlaced trousers, fisting his cock lightly and trying to remember why he had ever doubted that this was a brilliant idea.
They were taking their time and that was fine, it was grand, because if they had gone any faster Arthur suspected he wouldn’t last to consummate anything. He had seen Morgana undressed a few times over the years, briefly and (mostly) by accident, but the scant familiarity did nothing to change how stunning she was, her slender figure, porcelain skin, breasts which may have appeared in his private fantasies more often than he would ever admit.
And Gwen - Gwen was undiscovered country, and what country she was. Arthur might have been content to just look at Morgana forever, but everything about Gwen made him itch to reach out and touch. He needed to know the taste of her skin - just a little lighter where her clothes hid it from the sun, real in contrast to Morgana’s flawless pallor; he needed to feel how her hips could fill his hands, how her hair would slip and curl around his fingers as he kissed her, how her breasts would be, pressed tight against his chest when he held her… And he could. That was the shocking thing, the thing that made him finally stop just staring and get involved: Gwen would always be Morgana’s in some way, but she had also accepted him, chosen him, granted him the privilege of calling himself her husband.
Gwen was sitting up on her knees, tugging the last of Morgana’s underthings off, when Arthur scooted around behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her back so he could kiss her neck and fondle her breasts. She laughed in surprise, and he could feel it bubbling out of her through the warm flesh under his arms.
“I was wondering when you’d take some initiative,” Morgana remarked, but she sounded pleased.
Gwen reached up, snaking her arm around Arthur’s neck, threaded her fingers through Arthur’s hair and gently turned his head so she could meet his mouth over her shoulder.
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Somehow he found himself sitting sandwiched between the two of them, Gwen behind him, licking the sweat from his back while one hand stroked his stomach and the other his cock; Morgana in front, clutching at his hair while he buried his face in her frankly magnificent breasts. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t conceive of anything better than being trapped between these two incredible women, letting them do whatever they wanted with him.
After some length of time he couldn’t possibly have guessed at, however, Arthur had to catch Gwen’s wrist and still her hand.
“Sorry, did I do something wrong?” she asked in his ear, and it took all he had not to come right then.
“No,” he said, as fiercely as he could given how hard it was to make himself speak, “Too good. Don’t want this over so soon,” he managed. Gwen’s little frown of confusion and then the soft oh as she understood, because, right, she and Morgana could just go on, again and again, as many times as they wanted… and that thought was not at all conducive to controlling himself either. …Morgana’s laughter, that was a little less enjoyable but a lot more helpful.
Arthur brought Gwen’s hand to his mouth so he could suck her fingers in, lick delicately around the tips and then swallow them deeper. She gasped, and Morgana stopped laughing.
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Morgana trailed her lips down to kiss Gwen’s neck, steering her gently as she rose and fell, clutching Arthur’s length hot and tight and deep inside her, bringing up stars in his vision. Gwen made quiet keening sounds, her hands scrabbling at Arthur’s shoulders, and he was so overwhelmed he didn’t realize what he was doing until he was sitting up, hugging her to him tightly and catching Morgana’s mouth over her shoulder. Gwen’s arms locked around him, her shallow sighs warm at his throat.
As Morgana’s tongue swept past his teeth, Arthur felt her hand slipping between him and Gwen, down where they were joined. And then Gwen was shuddering, clenching so hard he couldn’t feel anything but the squeeze of her body around his cock and the shivers running through her. It was too much, too much, and when Morgana sucked his lip between hers and twisted her wrist to touch his balls, whatever shred of control he had been clinging to shattered, and he knew nothing but white-hot bliss for what could well have been an eternity.
Arthur came back to himself to find Gwen and Morgana tangled around one another next to him, Gwen’s mouth at Morgana’s breast, her fingers somewhere between Morgana’s legs. He forced himself to lift his arm, paw at Gwen’s side until she made room. Morgana hissed, a noise of intense frustration, and glared at him, but the glare faded when he rolled between her knees and applied his mouth to her body. He just caught Gwen’s grin - pleased, proud in a way that made his heart flutter - before all his attention turned to Morgana’s slick soft folds. She grabbed at Gwen’s arm and Arthur’s hair, her hips jerking wildly under Arthur’s hands, flawless skin flushed dark.
Between gasps, Morgana muttered something about Arthur not being so inept after all; he laughed, nothing but sheer delight, and Gwen did too, and Morgana came with both of them stroking her gently and sharing a wide-open smile.
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