Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Robin lay on his side and stared at his bedroom wall.

If there is a hell, he thought, then its bedrooms are hot. Cold would be fine. Cold bedrooms are the reason people invented extra blankets, bedpans, and slippers. Cold bedrooms can be comfortable, so long as you don't actually have to leave the bed. But in a hot bedroom, if an open window isn't enough, then your only real options as far as sleep goes involve head injury.

The bedroom window hung open, letting in the occasional useless breeze.

He heard the sheets behind him shift, and the arm slung across his midsection gripped slightly tighter. Even in normal circumstances, Tharja would probably have been awake anyway. Given the choice, she wouldn't go to sleep until well after midnight. But given that Robin was in bed now, she didn't see a choice.

She changed her grip again, and Robin felt two specific points of contact press more firmly against his back. He had given up asking questions about her wardrobe fairly early into their relationship, after a few conversations that went nowhere (“Why do you wear that?” “Because it's what I wear?”), but he was almost certain that she hadn't slept naked until they were married. Hardly something to complain about, but at the moment it was another factor in why he was still awake.

“Tharja,” he said.

There was a damp noise that Robin identified as the sound of Tharja peeling a cheek away from the back of his sweaty shirt. “Yeah?”

It was risky, but what the hell. “Do you know any hexes that could force me to go to sleep?”

Tharja was quiet for a moment. She idly ran a finger around his navel. “Hmm. Do you want to wake up tomorrow?”

“Ideally, yes.”

“Then I can't help you on short notice.” She kissed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“That's okay,” he said, squeezing her hand. “It's just that if I can't get to sleep soon I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to think straight tomorrow.”

Tharja tightened her grip on his waist and rolled to the side, pulling Robin onto his back. She slid slightly down the bed and flopped over again, ending up with her chin on his stomach, looking up at him.

She stared at him plaintively. A stray ray of moonlight from the window threw her pale face into relief against her dark hair. It was always a bit strange to look at her at night, since it was the only time she didn't wear any of her gold ornaments in her hair. “Why are you so concerned about getting enough sleep tonight?” she said.

“I didn't tell you?” he said. He probably hadn't; he had gotten used to her finding out things about him on her own. “Chrom's doing some sort of military show for some of the other nobles. He's gonna be supervising drills all day.”

“And you too?” she said, gripping both of his wrists. Tharja only grudgingly accepted that Robin's job could sometimes involve him being away from her.

Robin smiled, and shook his hands free. “I only have to be around for the meet and greet and the show. Chrom's the one you should be worried about. What with the party and six or so meals he's probably going to be dealing with these people for eighteen hours straight.”

“Sounds awful.”

“Probably is,” Robin said. He reached out and started lazily stroking Tharja's hair. “I don't know if I could handle it. I don't think I'd ever want to run a country.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Tharja said, smiling slowly. She gripped his hand where it touched her hair, and rubbed the firm muscle on his forearm, and with the other began kneading his lean, solid abdominals. “I think you would make a fine figure as a king.”

During this conversation, Robin had become acutely aware that Tharja's current position, head on his stomach looking forward, brought her bare chest into contact with his crotch. Only the thin fabric of his underclothes separated the pale flesh of her round breasts from his rapidly growing erection. She was almost certainly aware of this as well, as she kept arching her back inwards, burying his clothed member between her tits and bringing her heart-shaped backside into full view.

Robin knew he was not going to get to sleep anytime soon.

“To be a king I would have to marry a queen,” Robin said. “And I could never do that, because that would mean I couldn't marry you.”

He ran a finger down the smooth groove of her spine. She shivered in response.

“Are you sure?” she said. She pushed herself forward, laying flat on his chest so she could reach his face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips close to his ear. “There are... other arrangements.”

“Oh?”

She kissed him tenderly. “If I couldn't be your wife, I would gladly be your concubine,” she said, her voice soft as silk. “The only concubine you would ever need, or want.”

Robin brought his hands down to her buttocks, and grasped firmly as they kissed. “Wouldn't that make the queen jealous?” he said teasingly as their lips parted.

Tharja smiled. “Who cares about the queen? You would never want to leave my chamber,” she said. “His Majesty Robin would not do much reigning, and would do most of it... over the top of my head.”

“That sounds like a life I could learn to like,” Robin said.

Tharja's smile grew into a grin. “I have an idea,” she said, pushing off of his chest and getting up from the bed.

Her pale skin shone like a lantern in the darkness as she walked away, giving Robin a satisfying view of her rear end. She paused as she passed a shelf, and grabbed a book off of it. With a muttered spell, the room filled with a dim gold light.

There was a folding privacy screen by the dresser at the end of the room, rarely used because Tharja didn't see the need and Robin knew she'd just look around it. Tharja opened it up to obstruct the view of the dresser from the bed, along with the closet door.

“Get naked,” she said, disappearing behind the screen.

Happy to oblige, Robin stripped off his top and bottom, letting his now rock-hard member spring free in the warm air. Feeling that something more was expected off him, he sat himself center in the bed and rearranged the pillows into a more comfortable seated position.

Behind the screen, there was the sound of drawers being ransacked and boxes being opened. Robin could hear Tharja humming to herself tunelessly. In less than a minute, which felt rather longer to him, she stepped around the side of the screen.

Tharja's normal dark mage outfit was accompanied by a number of bangles and trinkets. She had changed into these. That is to say, she had put them on, and nothing else.

The circlet once again glittered in her dark hair. Her thighs were encircled by a set of gold-colored bands, both just tight enough on her light skin to accentuate the curve of her hips. A set of bracelets dangled precariously on her wrists, glinting in the low light as she brought one finger to perch on her lips. Her neck was covered by a long yellow collar, below which her other hand was set atop a perky breast.

“Does my liege approve?” she asked huskily.

She walked slightly forward. On her waist was a thin metal chain, which shook in rhythm with her steps.

“Highly,” Robin said. “Though I'm wondering why I've never seen that chain before.”

Tharja shook her hips, and the chain bounced around her midriff. “This thing?” she said slyly. “I've been looking for a reason to wear it. There's no place for it on the outfit of a dark mage. On the concubine of His Majesty, though... it is perfect.”

She walked to the foot of the bed and stood before him. Slowly, she curled on leg upwards at an angle, stretching out her arms to balance as she posed like a flamingo. Her chest and the chain shimmied in sympathy. “And what does the king request of his favored one?” she breathed.

Robin leaned forward. He took in the sight of her balancing on one leg, her long legs shining gold with a thin layer of sweat. He smiled.

“Dance for me,” he said.

With nothing but a smirk, Tharja complied. She began twirling on the spot, hands above her head, shaking her hips as she returned to face him. Her hands traveled slowly down her body, moving from her lips to cupping her breasts, down her taut midriff until one hand reached her mound, wet with arousal. There was no music, but the jangle of her ornaments along with the slither of her bare feet on the carpet and her soft moans as she touched herself made a fitting melody.

Tharja was not a trained dancer, but she was enthusiastic, and a man with a beautiful nude woman in front of him is rarely concerned about proper footwork. Robin scarcely allowed himself to blink for fear of missing any details, and it was only with a great amount of restraint that he kept his hands off of his throbbing cock. There were some things that were better to be savored.

With a final jingle of the chain around her waist, Tharja brought her feet to a skidding stop. She placed both hands behind her head. “Was my dance pleasing to you, my king?” she said.

“Very,” Robin said. He couldn't help noticing that the enjoyment had gone more than one way. Tharja was breathing heavily, and her arousal was actively dripping onto the carpet. “I see you anticipate your reward.”

Tharja ran a hand down to her crotch, and leaned forward, her breasts dangling freely. “My reward is your next request.”

“Climb up here.” The words came from Robin's mouth without any input from the brain.

With no apparent urgency, Tharja placed both knees on the bed, and leaned forward, drawing her face level with his cock. She looked him in the eye, and exhaled deeply onto its tip, sending a fresh buzz through his spine.

“Is this close enough?” she said.

Without waiting for his response, she opened her mouth and caressed his shaft with her tongue, giving one long lick from base to tip. A river of precum was streaming out of the top, its flow only hastened by her ministrations. Still making perfect eye contact, she placed both lips upon it and drank.

She returned to his shaft, placing further kisses up and down its side in rhythm, punctuated by more delicate work with her tongue. There were moments where Robin could swear that she had wrapped it fully around its length, squeezing his manhood like a snake catching its dinner. Only after his entire length was wet with her saliva did she return to the head, where with one quick motion she took him in her mouth.

Robin groaned. Tharja's study of the blowjob had been brief but intensive, and had involved a magically-suppressed gag reflex. She could take him all the way to the root without blinking, and so she did, slowly and luxuriously as only she could. At the base, with his cock all the way down her throat, she extended her tongue out once more for extra dexterity.

She began moving again, releasing his cock with a pop and a smile, only to immediately swallow it once more. She began pumping her head up and down his length industriously, her tongue encircling his head at the peak and stimulating his balls at the bottom. Her hands reached out and began pumping his shaft whenever it was free. The stimulation was unbearable, and it wasn't long before he could feel his orgasm building.

“I'm coming,” he said breathlessly. She only quickened her pace.

She stared at him as he reached his peak, and with an exhausted roar felt himself cum. With practiced reflex she removed him from her mouth, still stroking as he sprayed his seed in thick strands all over her face and chest.

Tharja smiled, and sat back up. His ejaculation had been intense, and one of her eyes was glued shut by a stray shot. She ran a finger across her face, and inserted it into her mouth, sucking on the gathered residue. “Delicious,” she said. “And more of it than usual. My king's virility cannot be denied.”

Still breathing hard, Robin stroked the side of her head. “All thanks to you.”

“So you say.” Tharja sat up, and grabbed a handkerchief from the nightstand. She wiped off her face, but left her chest remain sullied, Robin's cum running with her own sweat in syrupy tableau. “Then let's see whether I can assist your stamina as well.”

She opened the drawer on the nightstand, withdrawing a jar containing a coarse gray powder, smelling of crushed herbs, cinnamon, and the strange acrid smell that Robin now associated with Tharja's hexwork. It was half-empty. She shook some out onto her hand, and matter-of-factly spread it in a circle on Robin's chest. A spark from a scrap of a fire tome set it to smoldering, but his chest remained unsinged. A sweet-smelling smoke filled his nostrils.

“Breathe in,” Tharja said.

Robin did so, and immediately could feel his cock hardening once more as he stared at his wife in position at his groin, her skin glistening almost as much as the jewelry she wore. She just smiled, and industriously began stroking him again.

“Shall we continue, my king?”

Robin didn't bother with words. With a grunt of effort, he reached out and grabbed her by the armpits, hauling her on top of him. Her legs straddled him, and he could feel the heat of her entrance on his groin.

With Robin's dick so close to her entrance, Tharja's pretensions evaporated. She didn't bother with more teasing, she had abandoned all concept of foreplay, all pretext of putting on a show clearly displaced by the dire need to have Robin inside of her now. She panted hungrily as she raised herself up on her knees, using one hand to guide his member inwards. Robin placed both hands on her hips to steady her, and she moaned in anticipation.

She plunged downwards, taking him in to the hilt. They gasped together at the initial stroke., and paused for a moment. Robin could feel her walls enveloping him, feel her as she squeezed inwards on him, sense every movement as she rolled her toned midsection back and forth. She made slow circuits on top of him, staring up at the ceiling with her mouth agape. She gathered speed slowly and agonizingly, until Robin lost patience and slammed upwards, bouncing Tharja along his length as she inhaled sharply.

Taking his cue, she began riding him more strongly, rebounding up and down his cock with elastic energy as he thrust higher. She arched backwards and braced herself with her hands on his legs, letting her breasts shake freely with the rhythm. Moans of pleasure seemed to squeeze out of her with every stroke, and only intermittently did she seem capable of forming complete sentences.

“Oh god- it's perfect- please- don't stop- Robin!”

She screamed his name louder than anything else. Robin didn't think he could stop even if he wanted to. The situation was in Tharja's control.

He felt the weight on his legs lift as she raised her arms above her head. The shift in balance made thrusting a bit harder, but with a bit of extra effort he maintained pace. There was no way he was going to let her down now. Her wails only grew more frenzied with every fresh stroke as she clung to her own head desperately, eyes tightly shut with concentration. It was obvious that she could not continue for much longer.

With one final scream and a shudder he could feel running all the way through her, Tharja fell forward onto his chest, coming to rest with her head on his shoulder. He could hear every ragged breath, every manic descending sigh as she came back down. She kissed his neck exhaustedly. Despite everything, her walls maintained their grip on his cock.

For a few moments, the only sound was their heavy breathing, the only sensation the warm air on their skin and the mingle of juices pressed between them. Tharja lifted her head back up and looked at him with satisfaction.

Before she had a chance to say anything, Robin bodily rolled them both over, pinning her beneath him on the bedspread. Her eyes filled with surprise and delight, and she quickly arranged herself to continue more comfortable, widening the splay of her legs to accommodate him. Robin knelt upright and resumed thrusting furiously, shaking the bed with every stroke. Tharja's incense always did its job well; he felt almost more full of energy than before.

He thrust as fast and hard as he could. Tharja writhed on the bed below him, independent from how he moved. Her hips gyrated and she brought both hands up, laying one on the bed above her and caressing one of her breasts with the other. For all the world, she looked like she was dancing again, but this time to a beat that filled her to the core. She cried out, but was beyond the point of articulation. The only sounds she could make were panting sounds of gratification, and a few more attempts at his name.

With such a spectacle before him, he could only control himself for so long. His strokes became more frantic, and with a drained shout, he pulled out of her just as he hit climax.

Tharja reached out and stroked his cock right as the first shot came out, spreading from her navel to her chin. With each additional caress he shot another. Robin closed his eyes and groaned, his balls aching with the effort of two ejaculations in a row. When he felt himself stop he looked back down, to see Tharja covered with his cum once more and wearing an expression of utter bliss.

“Wondrous,” she said quietly.

It took them a rather long time to get cleaned up. In the end they decided it would be best to just put the bedsheets off to the side in the morning, when they could be washed or probably just burned. As it was, they contented themselves by toweling off and returning to sleep on a fresh blanket. It wasn't as if they needed anything else.

And so Robin once again found himself laying on his side, staring at the wall, with his wife clutching his back.

On the whole, he was glad he wasn't a king. He had all the perks anyway.

They both slept well that night.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“Do we still have that extra bottle of incense oil?”

“Probably. If we do, it's in your wardrobe.”

“'Probably?'”

“It's not like I use any of it. Do we really need incense?”

“Of course we need incense. Don't you know anything about curses?”

“No.”

Tharja's only reply was a harried mumble under her breath as she strode over to her wardrobe and withdrew a large and inelegant bottle, with a label reading simply 'Special brew'. She uncorked it, sniffed inquisitively, and resealed it with a look of approval. Robin watched this whole process with interest, but mainly because she was naked.

She had tied her black hair in a very uncharacteristic pile on top of her head, to keep it from getting in the way while she finished her complex task, and as such Robin had a completely unobstructed view of her pale form as it bounced from task to task. He was naked too, of course. This was allegedly an important part of the process. Even with Robin's vague at best knowledge of the world of curses and hexes, he had a strong suspicion that it was mainly for Tharja's benefit. This was also probably why she was naked as well. The incense, which she loved the smell of and mixed herself, was a gray area.

She poured the incense into two brass plates on top of candle burners, on the table at opposite corners of a huge black slate covered with sigils, inscriptions, and assorted debris like crushed plant matter and some other ingredients he preferred not to investigate. This had been Tharja's pet project for the past week, and the table was heavy laden with open tomes and sheets of paper annotated with Tharja's own tiny, dense handwriting. Robin treated it like a joke at first, up until the point where Tharja pushed the entire table in front of their bedroom door and announced that any evening plans were canceled.

Tharja murmured incantations as she waved her hands at the walls of their bedroom. These, at least, Robin understood. The doors and windows were already locked, but the added step of making sure that no sound could penetrate their walls was almost routine. Hopefully Chrom wouldn't need him anytime soon, but Robin suspected that a number of incidents had made him apprehensive of calling on them at night.

“And this will only last for one night?” Robin said. He sat on the bed, out of a lack of anything else to do, and felt slightly anxious as Tharja moved through the final stages of the curse with mechanical efficiency.

“If only,” Tharja said, making some inscrutable adjustment to the black slate. A pale purple glow shone from it. “We'll be lucky to get a full three hours from this.”

“And what happens if we're, ahem, still occupied when it runs out?” Robin said.

“Nothing bad,” Tharja said. “Probably. I made sure it reverses automatically.”

Robin relaxed a little. He let his feet dangle off the side of the bed, and appreciated the fact that, despite everything, he was still hard as a rock.

“You know, I still think we should look into finding other uses for this,” he said. “If it works, I can see lots of tactical maneuvers that will suddenly become possible.”

“It only works in one room, takes a week to set up, and has to be used in a very specific timeframe,” Tharja said. Robin admired the movements of her bare shoulder blades as she made further inscriptions on the slate. By now the whole room was starting to fill with the purple glow. “And you just feel more tired afterwards.”

“I can still think of lots of ways around that,” Robin said calmly.

Tharja stood up straight, as the slate starting making a strange humming noise. The air began to fill with an acrid smell, but that was just the incense.

“Later, then,” Tharja said. “First we test it. Stand up.”

Robin did as instructed, and stood on a wide open section of carpet a clear distance away from Tharja. She stepped away from the table and removed the pin from her hair, letting it cascade in black sheets across her shoulders.

They stood there for an awkward few seconds, while the humming grew higher and higher pitched.

“Any second now,” said Tharja. “You'll know when-”

What exactly Robin would know, he would never know, because Tharja's voice was interrupted with a gasp as a clap of sound came from the slate. Robin's vision flashed white, and he felt a strange pulling sensation across his entire body.

The noise stopped, and the glare faded from Robin's eyes. He breathed heavily. And heard a second voice breathing beside him. Robin opened his eyes.

Standing next to him, nude in all of his lean muscular glory, was himself. Head to toe, he has exactly the same as he looked in the mirror every morning, except full frontal. He examined himself carefully, noting that he was doing the same to himself.

“Huh,” he said.

Robin reached out and poked the other him in the shoulder experimentally, and was surprised to feel a dim impression of the sensation in his own shoulder at the same time. Tharja had said that sensations would pass over, but it was still weird to feel something that had happened in a different body.

“Well that worked better than I expected,” Tharja said.

The Robins simultaneously turned their heads towards her. Both of her. Tharja had gotten on board with the arrangement a lot faster than Robin had. She stood with her arm around her double, and vice versa, clearly for the benefit of their audience. They stood, legs crossed sensuously and heads cocked, with manic grins on their faces.

“I'm amazed that this is considered a curse,” Robin said. Looking at two versions of his wife at the same time, Robin felt it difficult to concentrate on the academic curiosity he had felt before.

“Most of the work was diluting it,” Tharja said, groping her copy's breast with a smirk and a gasp. “I assumed you didn't want six versions of both of us running around, each one with a different aspect of the original personality.”

“How does that work out?”

“Usually one turns out to be evil.”

“Yeah, I can see that being a problem,” Robin said. The other Robin, he realized after a moment. He hadn't noticed that the words had come out of his double's body because he had been intending to say them anyway. It was like Tharja had said: same person, same thoughts.

He put a hand to his chin, twice. “This really could be useful,” he said. “Maybe not worth it in most circumstances, but if we anticipated an attack on a castle with an appropriate timeframe, we would be able to double the effective number of defenders for a short time. Only for a single room, though. Hmm. But what if...”

He continued along that line of thought for quite some time. Through the fog of contemplation, he saw Tharja's grin fade, and her arms untangle from her copy. But he wasn't actually shaken from his reverie until he felt an unexpected warmth at his groin. He looked down, trailing off in midsentence, to see his wife squatting before him, face inches away from his erect member.

“Later,” she said, placing on hand on his thigh. With the other hand, she reached up and gently encircled the base of his shaft between thumb and forefinger. Robin glanced over to see that their doubles were similarly positioned. “Much later.”

Without warning, she dipped her head forward, and kissed his own. Carefully and leisurely, she swallowed his entire length, gently massaging his balls with her free hand. She moved with insidious calm, letting her tongue slide across the underside of his cock while she slowly swallowed him like a snake. She paused only briefly after she had taken his entire length down to the root and well into her throat, so that she could look him in the eye before withdrawing at the same lethargic pace.

Robin groaned for multiple reasons. The mixture of arousal and bewilderment he was feeling right now was familiar in this bedroom, but not quite in this way. He wanted to keep his eyes on Tharja as she gently sucked him off, but at the same time he was enthralled by spectacle off to his side, where the exact same thing was happening again. He was pretty sure that he could feel it too, the same way he had felt the finger prodding his shoulder. It was a bizarre sensation. Tharja had given him blowjobs before, but never in stereo.

She looked up at him and smiled around his shaft, With her eyes, she motioned over to their doubles. Apparently she didn't want him wasting the view either.

Tharja withdrew his cock from her mouth with a dramatic pop, gave him a smirk, and immediately dived back in. She swallowed him down to the base and energetically began pumping up and down. As she withdrew her mouth she stroked him upwards with her hand, and stroked down on the return, while her other hand gently cupped his testicles, so that no part of his manhood was ever unstimulated.

She let out a muffled groan of satisfaction with his cock down her throat, as Robin watched her copy enthusiastically run her tongue around his double's head. Robin still didn't know whether the moans she made during oral sex were genuine or just for his enjoyment. It was entirely possible- probable- that she had put a curse on him that made his precum taste like sugar. Either way, he wasn't going to ruin a good thing.

Just as Robin began to feel weak in the knees, Tharja finally pulled away. As she continued stroking him with one hand, she reached out, and both she and her double grabbed each other's shoulders in one synchronous movement. While both continued stroking their partners, Tharja and her copy began passionately kissing. Tharja writhed in her own grasp, letting her erect nipples rub against the soft flesh of her copy's breasts.

This was the final straw. As Tharja continued pumping him energetically, he grunted, and came messily. Thick ropes of cum shot over his wife and her copy as they embraced, leaving them covered in sticky white strands. And not just from himself, he realized. His double had come at the same time, multiplying the amount of semen by two.

The sound of Tharja giggling from two mouths at once, as both wrapped around the other pair of lips, was one Robin would not soon forget. Tharja didn't release her copy until the last spurt had been fired. When she did, she just looked up at him, beaming through layers of cum, while her copy stood up and calmly walked over to their nightstand.

“It's almost like you're excited about something,” she said, with one eye plastered shut by a shot of cum.

“You're just imagining things,” Robin said.

He glanced up at the pleasant sight of his wife's copy, bending over to rummage through her nightstand. She shut the drawer and returned to the fray, holding a towel and a jar containing one of the few dark magic substances Robin could easily recognize.

“You know what to do,” the upright Tharja said, sprinkling a pinch of powder into both Robins' hands. She set the powder aflame, leaving them to inhale the fumes while Tharja and her copy cleaned themselves off. Robin noticed that they were only wiping off their faces. The rest of their bodies were left covered by the mixture of sweat and cum, apparently by design.

Robin inhaled the familiar acrid smoke, and felt himself growing erect once again. Tharja watched his stiffening member with the approving expression of an aficionado. She stood up, arm wrapped around the waist of her copy, and strolled over to the bed.

Both Tharjas flopped onto the bedspread. One landed on her front, pressing her chest into the fabric and raising ass high on her smooth thighs. The other landed on her back, and propped herself up on both arms, thrusting out her full breasts proudly. The one on her back stared straight ahead, while the one on her front had to crane her head backwards, but they shared the same expression of plain, transparent excitement.

“Choose,” they said.

Robin walked forward slowly and theatrically, letting his steely member bob in front of him. By unspoken arrangement, it seemed that he had taken the Tharja with her ass in the air, while his double had been assigned the one on her back. They were the ones nearest to them, respectively, and Robin could never stop himself from approaching things tactically.

Tharja's head swiveled to an absurd position to maintain eye contact with his cock as he approached her from behind. When this was no longer technically possible she just buried her face in the blanket, giggling madly as, beside them, Robin's double leaned down and began passionately kissing Tharja's copy. Robin, not wishing to be outdone by himself, hauled himself onto the bed on his knees, and grabbed an asscheek in each hand with a resounding smack.

She waved her behind through the air in front of him playfully, until Robin steadied her by tightening his grip. She twisted her head around again like a maddened owl, , probably with some smart remark in mind, but went silent as the air was driven from her lungs by Robin's first thrust.

To say Tharja offered his cock no resistance would be an understatement. The fluids pouring from her snatch made his entrance frictionless, and the shifting walls of her insides seemed to actually grip his cock, and pull him inwards faster than he was prepared for.

Robin remained still for just a moment, admiring the way Tharja's hair had spilled across her back as she giggled mildly in serenity, resonating with the voice of her copy next to them. He savored the warmth inside of her for just a moment more before he began pounding into her, quickly soaking his thighs with her juices.

He braced one leg on the floor, using it as leverage for thrusts. He knew Tharja, and more importantly he knew what she liked, which was long, regular thrusts. He bucked his hips in and out, quickly but not too quickly, at an angle he knew so well he could have found it blindfolded. Tharja's hands gripped the bedspreads tightly, which muffled her groans as she pressed her face into it.

Even as Robin thrusted, Tharja raised herself on her trembling arms. She slowly moved over to her copy beside her, who was being fucked just as hard, brought her mouth to her breasts. Robin, who felt that he had maintained pace quite impressively despite being dragged across the bed behind her, was treated to the sight of his wife sucking at her own breasts, looking between both versions of her husband as she ran her tongue around a rigid nipple. The other Tharja, lying on her back being pleasured by both her husband and herself, just stared up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open in simple, stupid satisfaction. The sound of slapping flesh almost drowned out the dual soundscape of moans.

Robin was used to Tharja signaling her orgasms loudly and obviously, sometimes with pyrotechnic effects. So it was surprising to feel her suddenly tightening around his cock and spasming as she moaned into her own breasts. He could only assume that she had reached such a point of overstimulation that any warning signs became lost in the noise. He and his double stopped briefly, surveying the scene of bedlam below them as both bodies breathed heavily.

Tharja obviously had not had enough, now or ever. In one smooth movement, the one on her front rose to her knees, pulling Robin's cock out and grabbing him by the wrist. She guided him to the other end of the bed, where she got behind him, and wrapped one arm across his chest as she pressed her breasts into his back. With the other hand, she began stroking his cock, pointing it towards the face of her copy, who was still lying on her back.

While they had repositioned themselves, their doubles hadn't moved. Tharja's copy had in fact grabbed the other Robin's wrists to make sure he stayed inside of her. In response to some nonverbal signal, she titled her head backwards and began sucking his cock. As she slurped his shaft, she tugged on the other Robin's wrists, prompting him to start moving again.

They established a smooth rhythm, with Robin's double thrusting into her from one end while she pumped his dick in and out of her mouth to the same beat. The other was still stuck to his back. With one hand she gently stroked his chest and stomach, and with the other she playfully managed what was happening at Robin's waist. During one moment she was stroking his cock, during the next she was gently fondling his balls, and then she was forcefully pulling her copies mouth down his shaft by the ear. She kissed up and down his neck, and constantly repositioned herself against his back, making him constantly aware of her heavy breasts.

This was an equilibrium that Robin felt quite comfortable with, so he was mildly disappointed when he felt Tharja release his back from her grip. This feeling instantly disappeared when he saw her lie down on the bed next to her copy, facing him, and flash him a brief smile.

Both Tharjas began sucking his cock together, while Robin's double, showing initiative he admired in himself, began fingering one as he kept fucking the other. They wrapped their lips around either side of his cock, letting them meet as they moved slowly up and down his shaft, before they began taking turns aggressively sucking it. Robin craned his head upwards with an overwhelmed grunt, but that only made him more aware of the intense sensation of his manhood being pleasured by two mouths, along with the still bizarre experience of feeling himself thrusting inside her at the same time.

Robin knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer, but he doubted that Tharja would be able to either. He paid a bit more attention this time around, and before long he noticed her moans becoming progressively more high-pitched and squeal-ish. He looked into her desperate expression as she sucked his cock, and an unspoken dialogue passed in an instant. Within seconds, all four bodies came. One Robin shot his load deep into one Tharja's pussy, while the other poured his cum down the other's throat.

All four bodies collapsed into one fleshy heap, and for a few moments simply tried to remember how to breath. Robin gently kissed the nearest Tharja, and she kissed back. But within the minute, the other extracted herself from the pile, and walked back over to her dresser, dripping cum with each step.

“Alright,” she said confidently. “That was a good warm up.”

Both Robins looked up. Tharja radiated nothing but the boundless energy of the truly determined.

“Warm up?”

“You heard me,” Tharja said, rummaging through her wardrobe again. “It took me a week to set this up. We're going to use every second we can get. Oh, here it is.”

She walked back over to the bed, clutching a dogeared tome with a bookmark sticking out the top, which she tossed over to the nearest Robin. He opened it to the bookmarked page.

Inside, rendered in elaborate full-color diagrams, was a collection of sexual positions involving two men and two women. Some were circled, others had their names underlined. In most of the margins Tharja had made annotations in her distinctive handwriting, with thoughts like Bed big enough? and Practice to make sure I can handstand for that long dominating, though there were quite a few comments unfavorably comparing the male models to Robin.

“You have no idea how happy I was to find that book,” Tharja said, flopping back into the bed. “You can have the next pick of position, then we'll alternate.”

Robin sighed, and put the book aside.

“Alright,” he said. “Let's get started.”

Hours passed. Robin lost count of the number of orgasms, or the number of times he had inhaled Tharja's special incense. All he knew was, as he lay prostrate on the floor next to his bed, that he would have to find the strength to continue somewhere.

If he focused, he could wiggle his toes. Maybe he could work with that.

A Tharja lay perpendicular across his stomach, giggling softly. She raised her head, and looked him in the eyes.

“Hey,” she said. “I have an idea-”

And what that idea was, Robin would never know. At that instant, his vision went white again while his ears filled with another clap of sound. And in the next instant, he found himself lying on the bed next to his wife, with their doubles nowhere to be found.

Robin stared into space.

“Huh,” he said.

“What's wrong?” Tharja said.

“Nothing, it's just,” Robin said, his brain spinning. He tried to stop remembering things for a moment, but found it difficult. “When you said I would have both sets of memories, I didn't think you meant at the same time.”

“What'd you think I meant?” Tharja said. Somehow, she still had the energy to snuggle up next to him.

“I don't know,” Robin said. All he did know was that it felt really strange to have the memory of having sex with his wife from two sides at the same time. It would probably take days for him to mentally sort through it all.

“Well I'm happy that I didn't forget half of it,” Tharja said. She reached over and picked up the discarded book, and flipped through the annotated list of sex positions. “It's kind of a shame we didn't get to some of the ones I wanted to get to. This time, anyway.”

“Let me see that,” Robin said. Maybe reading something would help him orient his memories properly.

Tharja handed him the book, and he winced as he took it. Tharja had been right about that, too. Somehow he was twice as tired as before.

He flipped through the pages, and found himself wondering which ones Tharja could possibly have been worried about missing. It felt like they had done every damn position in the section, albeit some not for very long. He turned the page that lead to the next section, and stopped.

He flipped through the rest of the book. And the index. And the glossary. And the author's note at the beginning.

“Tharja.”

“Yeah?”

Robin pointed to an open section of the book, which covered sexual positions involving three women and two men. There were sections of the book featuring just about every reasonable combination of men and women, and Tharja's handwriting was across them all. “Tharja, you've annotated this entire book.”

“So?”

“So...” Robin said inquisitively.

Tharja's face broke into the manic grin he knew so well.

“I have many, many ideas for how to improve that curse, my love.”