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Lessons Learned
by Topaz Eyes
A/N: Written for the Porn Battle V challenge, using the prompt lessons.
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According to House, if sex with Cuddy was fabulous and sex with Wilson was mind-blowing, then sex with Cuddy and Wilson should be fabulously mind-blowing.
But the first time, reality almost ended up something else.
It started out all right. Between nimble fingers and willing mouths, House was so hard that all he could think of was fucking Cuddy insane while Wilson thoroughly reamed him.
Instead, he found himself lying alone on Cuddy's bed, annoyance growing and erection dwindling as they tried to figure out the mechanics.
"We can't do that, House's leg will give out before we finish," Wilson said, his hands on his hips.
"But there's not enough room to do yours," Cuddy replied, gesturing at the length and width of her bed.
Watching them argue naked would normally be hilarious, but House was growing more impatient by the minute. "Hello, aging cripple here," he finally snapped.
"I'll write a scrip for Viagra," Cuddy shot back.
"No good if I die before you biddies make up your minds," House said. "Less yapping and more sexing."
"How hot would it be if your leg--" Wilson started.
"Screw the leg. Better yet, forget the leg and screw me. Let's get with it, people!"
They finally decided that House should lie on his back with his ass near the edge of the bed, his legs bent and his bad thigh padded with pillows. Cuddy stroked him back to hardness and slipped a condom over his cock as Wilson prepared House with his fingers. She then clambered on top of House, straddling his hips while Wilson got himself ready with condom and lube. He then stood between House's spread legs, pushing against his hole as Cuddy lowered herself down.
"Nnnnhhh," House moaned, closing his eyes in sheer pleasure. God, he'd waited so long for this: filling Cuddy, being filled by Wilson. With Cuddy's wet tightness moving without and Wilson's hard thickness thrusting within, he wouldn't last long with all that heat and pressure--
Except Wilson and Cuddy remained utterly still.
He waited. But after a few minutes of nothing, House groaned. "Now what?"
"We have to figure out how to move," Cuddy said.
House opened his eyes. "You gotta be kidding."
Cuddy was shaking her head and Wilson was looking up at the ceiling, both faces twisted in frustration.
"Do you think this is enjoyable for us?" Wilson's voice had a brittle edge.
"Like it is for me?" House was softening again as his sarcasm increased.
"Maybe if you had some constructive suggestions--"
"Enough, both of you!" Cuddy said, rolling her eyes and scowling at House. "Let's just work this out, okay?"
House and Wilson glared at each other until Wilson sighed in agreement. They started again, and after a few tries, they finally learned how to coordinate their movements. As they relaxed and found their rhythm, House felt the pleasure building again in his groin. Cuddy leaned over him, breasts pressed into his chest and face buried in his shoulder; Wilson held Cuddy's hips as he thrust, back arched and eyes half-closed in blissful concentration. The citrus scent of her shampoo filled House's nose; sweat glistened on Wilson's flushed skin, and their soft moans and muttered curses bypassed his ears, going straight to his cock.
The mingled musk, squeaking bedsprings, humid breaths and frantic kisses--Cuddy's wetness and Wilson's fullness--all rolled into one seething ball of sensation, and the pressure in House's dick began to peak. He reached down and fingered Cuddy, rubbing quickly to make her shudder. She came with a long "Oh," and as she did Wilson's thrusts grew erratic. House looked over her shoulder to see him jerk and gasp in climax. Feeling them both, one after the other, was just too fucking much, and his whole body spasmed with his own release.
Coming down, he felt his chest squeeze under their weight. "Get off, you're crushing me to death," he huffed. Wilson pulled out, Cuddy slid off, and they collapsed on the bed beside him, panting.
"Not bad," Wilson said. "Considering."
"It'd have been so much better if you two were gymnasts," House answered.
"At least we worked it out for next time," Cuddy sighed.
"If there is one," Wilson said.
"Do we want to do this again?"
"What do you think?" House leered. "Practice makes perfect."
And, in time, it did.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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