She looked across the room with sad longing at the man she had been truly deeply in love with for over ten years. She was old enough and wise enough, to recognise that the two years before that had been mere lust. But it had been good lust. For the first three years they had fucked and sucked, hard and fast and as often as circumstances had allowed, then for the next six they had made love. Slow, gentle passionate, loving, love. Oh they had fucked and sucked, but predominantly they had made love. Again as often as circumstances would allow. But for the last three years, nothing. She looked up and smiled as her husband touched her lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey babe, you okay?” he whispered.

Ginny nodded. “Fine love,” she responded softly, but her eyes quickly wandered back to her true love.

They were both married now and in the weeks before their marriage they had agreed that once they were married, they would have to stop. It already wasn’t fair on their spouses-to-be, but it would be worse on spouses. It had been Ron’s suggestion, one with which Ginny had agreed totally, yet it had been with a heavy heart.

The real tragedy of it was that Ron had married one of Ginny’s closest friends. In fact, Ron, his wife and Ginny’s own husband had been the closest of friends even before she, Ginny, had appeared on the scene.

She thought back to the day before her own wedding. In her own, quiet, way, she had been dreading it, yet almost no-one knew. She had been sitting on her bed, in the room that had been hers almost from birth, when there had been a tentative knock on the door. She hadn’t been expecting him, but the tentative knock couldn’t be mistaken for anyone elses. Joyously she had flung open the door and almost leaped into his arms.

“Oh Ronny,” she whispered.

Ronny had just held her tight as she clung to him, her face buried into his neck. She squeezed him, then let go and pulled him into her room.

“Where’s Mum?” Ginny asked.

“Gone to see Harry. She and Dad are worried about something.”

“Oh?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Where’s your... ,” Ginny trailed off.

“Gone to try and make amends to her parents.”

“Oh. So we’re alone in the house?”

Ron nodded, not quite realising what Ginny had been saying. Ginny however knew exactly what she wanted and needed. She wanted Ron for herself one last time. She pulled him gently to her and began to kiss him. It hadn’t taken them long to start making love, Ron’s long, hard cock sliding slowly but firmly in and out of Ginny’s wet and willing pussy. To Ginny, Ron had been handsome and beautiful and wonderful and loving. His hard cock had slid delightfully in and out of her, pressing her clitoris at just the right moments. His hard chest had brushed her sensitive nipples, bringing extra delightful sensations; his firm hands had caressed her skin, leaving trails of fire wherever they went. And his kisses, oh his kisses ... Remembering back, Ginny began to get wet all over again. Reluctantly she tore her eyes from him. She had promised herself she would get over him, but it was hard. He was still kind and wonderful to her and she at least was still in love with him, but they were no longer lovers.

That last time they had made love for nearly four hours. Ginny had felt Ron fill her a number of times and she knew she had had three massive orgasms along with numerous other smaller climaxes. By the time she had heard her parents get home, Ron had already left, but she had remained lying on the bed for another half an hour before her mother had called her for supper.

She turned to her husband and smiled at him. He was only peripherally aware of her, most of his attention on Ron and his beautiful wife, but Ginny’s movement caught his attention and he turned and smiled lovingly at her. Ginny reflected. She loved her husband, and knew he loved her deeply. The problem was, she wasn’t in love with him and in reality never had been. Oddly, she’d been infatuated with him at first, even as she was loving Ron. She had assumed that infatuation was love and it was only after they had got engaged and her wedding was getting close that her true feelings had finally revealed themselves to her. By then it was far too late. Ron was also engaged, his wedding to be just weeks after hers and her own wedding was only a couple of weeks away.

She had cried at first, but afterwards had just settled into a state of gentle depression, one that no one truly recognised as depression.

“You look unhappy?”

Ginny shook her head, smiling slightly at her husband. “No. Tired.” That much was true. She was also gently horny, but not for her husband and that did depress her. Her husband was a lovely man, kind, attentive, not bad in bed, but he wasn’t Ron. Maybe she would take her husband home and make love to him, pretend it was Ron. She shook her head. Even she wasn’t that mean. And yet...

Across the room, Ron was fully aware of the woman he had loved to distraction, in fact still loved deeply. Unlike Ginny however, who wasn’t in love wirh her husband, Ron was in love with his wife. The difference however, was that he loved Ginny more.

He remembered their time together subtly different from how Ginny rememberd it. He remembered the sex, the amazing and fabulous sex. He remembered it turning from frantic shagging sessions into slow loving sessions. He knew she had fallen in love with him before he had fallen in love with her, but that had never worried him. He was in love now and that’s all that mattered. He remembered their last session differently as well. He had gone to see her in the hopes that she would be free and available, but not really expecting it.

Even back then Ginny was the most beautiful woman he knew and that day she had seemed even more beautiful than ever. Her tight, hot, pussy worked magic on his cock, her small but firm boobs with their hard and sensitive nipples pressed firmly against his chest, digging pleasurably into him. Her skin had been silky smooth as he stroked and caressed her and her mouth had tasted of violets for some unexplained reason. Her long red hair lying across his chest as they relaxed had felt amazing. He didn’t know how many times she had climaxed underneath him, at least twice he was aware of, but he remembered coming to three glorious climaxes, filling her each time.

She had been his goddess that night and despite their avowals to turn away from each other and forget their love, it was getting harder and harder for him. He wanted her now more than he’d wanted her back then. It hurt to be in the same room as her sometimes and, looking at her, he knew she sometimes felt the same. He could see she was feeling that right now and that saddened him.

He knew he had had it easier than her. He knew she wasn’t truly in love with her husband, while he was in love with his wife.

He looked at his wife. She was beautiful. Her mid-brown hair was shorter and straighter than it had been when he first met her, but the rest of her had matured in the most delightful way. She was sexy, very good in bed and more to the point, he knew she loved him.

Ron’s cock was already firm from thinking about that last time with Ginny, but then it got harder as he remembered watching his wife getting dressed that morning. She still had a body for him to lust over and lust over it he did. Regularly. He thought back just three days to the last time they had made love. They made love only occasionally now. A few times a year, but she knew and liked the fact that he still ‘fancied’ her, that he still lusted after her body.

Their last time had been fairly abbreviated because of their new son. But they had made love for half an hour, Ron feeling his cock explode inside his wife’s tight pussy. Her pussy was tighter than he remembered Ginny’s being, but that didn’t mean very much, and her boobs were bigger and softer. She had bigger nipples than Ginny. They were just as sensitive, he thought, but being bigger they were easier to nurse on, something he knew his wife adored. He had lain between her thighs, thrusting slowly in and out, feeling her hips curl up to match his, the two of them kissing passionately. He had known the joy of being with, inside, a woman he truly loved and who truly loved him. But it had hurt because it wasn’t the woman he really and truly wanted to be with, the woman who he loved more than any other in the world, the woman who had loved him and who he had loved first, before any other.

Although he loved Ginny more than he loved his wife, he loved his wife enough that he had never once fantasised that he was making love to Ginny while he was making love to her. Thinking about his own last time, Ron idly wondered what Ginny’s last time had been like.

The last time Ginny and her husband had had sex was over four months earlier. Unless she was on her menses, she never pushed him away when he came to her, but she rarely encouraged him, to the extent that now he didn’t come to her quite as often, but when he did he was slightly more insistent. He still knew when she really didn’t want him as opposed when she would accept him, but he had never really worked out why she hadn’t been as accepting of him as he had hoped. He had never realised she wasn’t in love with him.

That night Ginny had accepted her husband, but for once it had been on her terms. She wanted it from behind, with her bum up and head down, buried in the pillow. As he had caressed and stroked her, making her ready for his cock, she had pictured Ron in her mind. The touches and caresses had felt enough like Ron’s that she had come to a massive climax, screaming out her orgasm into the pillow. She hadn’t felt or noticed his climax, but from the sloppy sensation in her crotch knew he had filled her. That was okay, she didn’t mind. She didn’t hate the man after all. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t love him the way he loved her, the way he deserved to be loved.

The four had got together, as they did a few times a year, to have dinner and just to chat. This time however, Ron’s wife and Ginny’s husband, seemed to have been plotting something. A couple of times Ginny had caught them together talking intently in hushed tones. She was pretty certain it wasn’t anything underhand as, when they were interrupted, they had just smiled at her. But they had, she suspected, changed the subject. Ron had also caught them once, but he hadn’t thought anything of it, being too wrapped up in the fact that Ginny was near.

Ron and Ginny barely spoke, whenever they were close it was all she could do to stop herself from jumping into his arms and kissing him. It was made harder by the fact that she knew he wanted her to.

They had touched hands, momentarily, at the start of the evening and ever since that moment Ginny knew she wanted him as badly as she had ever wanted him. She could still feel the electric shock of the contact and the trails of fire which had gone through her. The effect on Ron had been similar, though very slightly muted by the fact that at the time he hadn’t been looking at Ginny.

“I think we need to talk,” her husband said. The four of them were now sitting in the main lounge, glasses of wine in their hands or nearby.

Ginny looked up. “Oh?” It was obvious that he was talking at least partly to her.

Ron’s wife spoke. “He and I,” she said, pointing at Ginny’s husband, “have long noticed something that’s slowly tearing us apart.”

It was Ginny’s husband’s turn to speak. “I noticed it first, within days of our marriage. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I do now. Finally. We’ve been talking for a few weeks. We both now know the problem and we think we have the solution.

“What problem?” asked Ron, almost fearfully.

“You know I love you darling,” Ron’s wife told him, “and I know you love me, but you love someone else more. That can hurt. A lot. It’s only because of the situation that I have been able to not let it hurt me.”

“And you know I love you too,” Giny’s husband spoke softly. “I love you very very much. But I knew a long time ago you were not in love with me the same way. It was only recently that I finaly realised you were never in-love with me. I don’t think you hate or even dislike me, but I think the best you can do is tolerate me.”

Ginny burst into tears, and it was all Ron could do not to go and comfort her. He stared angrily at the man he had thought was his best friend.

“I’m not angry or upset with you,” he continued, “I love you too much for that.”

“I don’t hate you,” whispered Ginny. “I even do love you in my own way. You are sweet and thoughtful and kind, but...”

“But we aren’t truly right together are we?”

Ginny shook her head sorrowfully, still looking at her husband. “Did you want a divorce?” she asked hollowly.

Her husband shook his head. “Nothing as simplistic as that.”

“Let me explain,” Ron’s wife spoke up. “I love Ron. I am in love with him. But I long realised that we aren’t right together either and for some of the same reasons as you two. After, well, you know, six years ago, I stuck with Ron because he had stuck with me when I was hurting. In reality and I think we’ve all known it ever since that point, Ron and I should never have remained together. In reality it should have been me and,” she paused. Ginny realised that her friend had been about to say Ginny’s husbands name.

“You?” she siad pointing at her friend, “and,” her hand moved to point at her husband, who, it had to be said, looked slightly shocked and surprised.

“Yes,” came the soft whisper.

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know. I care about him. Just as I care about you two,” she nodded at Ron and Ginny.

“Far more to the point,” butted in Ginny’s husband, “we both think you two should be together.”

“But we can’t,” blurted out Ron in surprise. There was also fear on his face. Ginny herself was shocked to her core, but she managed to retain a semblance of control.

“And how do you think that would work?” There was a hint of coldness in her voice. Through it she managed to retain hold of her fear, even of her longing. She didn’t dare look at Ron.

“You and I would remain married. We would probably even still live together. Maybe.”

“Actually that would probably be necessary,” came the other woman. Ginny ignored her and instead concentrated on her husband. “Go on.”

“At night, you just go to Ron. Or maybe he comes to you.”

“And you go to her?”

He sighed. “That bit I hadn’t actually thought through, but yes, I guess so.”

“Do you love her?”

“Would you believe I’ve never even thought about it.” He turned to look at the woman Ginny was indicating. “She’s very beautiful.”

“But we are more compatible,” came the voice of the woman he was scrutinising so closely.

“Maybe.”

“So what next?” asked Ginny.

“I think,” responded her husband turning back to her, “we need to try it out to make sure all four of us are comfortable with it.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Harry Potter. If you think, for one moment, that you are going to shag my wife without my permission, you have another think coming.”

Hermione turned on him. “Ronald Weasley. Who I shag, or don’t shag, is entirely my affair. That you have shagged your sister is wierd to me, that you haven’t shagged her for two years is even wierder. That you still want to shag her, well, that’s your affair. This is mine. I suddenly want to shag Harry. I’m going to shag Harry.”

There was a sudden flurry and Hermione had disposed of her outer clothing. The three others stared at her. “You’ve been out in the muggle world again,” Ron whispered, staring at the beautiful, sexy, lingerie she was wearing.

“I was brought up muggle. I understand muggle. I am comfortable in the muggle world. And quite frankly, what Mrs Ebbs sells in Diagon Alley, is disgusting. The muggle world moved on from that sort of clothing a century ago.”

“If that’s were they’re going, then I can’t wait to join them,” whispered Ginny. Her own bra and knickers, which were revealed moments later, were very functional, but that didn’t stop them from looking sexy on her, simply because she was sexy.

This wasn’t the first time that Harry and Hermione had had sex, but it was the first time for a very long time. It also wasn’t the first time they had had sex with other people in the room, but in the past it had been with their schoolfriends in one of the many evening orgys, or in the sex education lessons. Back then it had ben for educational purposes, or just for fun and sex, there had been little, if any, romance about it. Even so it had been great fun and they had all enjoyed it.