Title - From the files of D's Plumbing

Author - Lena

Pairing - Ron/Draco/Harry

Rating - NC-17

Warning - Alternative Universe - absolutely no magic here! Kink and cross-dressing with a femme!Ron.

Genre - PWP, AU

Spoilers - Can't think of any.

Disclaimers - I don't own Harry or Ron or anything in the HP world. JKR does (and Warner Bros, et al).

Feedback - [email protected]

Summary - Ron needs his sink fixed and finds an incredible plumber.

Acknowledgments - Thank you, as always, to my beta, Lorien_Eve.

Invoice#1

Ron cursed at the sink, while flipping the garbage disposal on and off, trying to dislodge whatever was in the way. He was not very handy with this kind of thing. He knew he needed to call a plumber. He walked over to the telephone book and flipped through the pages until he found the page with numerous plumbers' ads on it. He scanned the ads until he found one called, "D's Plumbing - I'll unclog you in no time." Ron thought it was a nice ad, so he dialed the numbers.

After a few rings, a man answered, "Yeah."

"Hello, I'm having trouble with my garbage disposal and my sink is clogged."

The man drawled, "Okay...I'm at another place now...but I can be there...in...an hour?"

"That's fine." Ron gave him the address and hung up the phone.

Ron continued busying himself in the kitchen, washing a few dishes, and after a while, started to prepare dinner.

The doorbell rang, and Ron, carrying his spatula went to answer it. He opened the door to a young man, with longish blond hair. The man was a bit slight and his hair hung in his eyes in long bangs. Ron stood there for a moment and stared, gripping his spatula in his hand.

"You needed a plumber," said the man. He was chewing a wad of gum and popped a bubble.

"Yes, thanks for coming." Ron stared before he finally turned and guided the man to the kitchen. He quickly glanced at himself in a mirror, checking to see if he looked alright. He knew his apron was a little dirty, but he was glad the skirt was fairly short and that he hadn't bothered with panties that morning.

Ron showed the man the sink and he looked down the hole. Ron tried to explain what was wrong with it. The man shook his head slowly in the affirmative and said, "Uh, huh..."

Ron stood back as the man crouched down and opened the cabinets beneath the sink. The man's jeans, which Ron had noticed hung low on his hips, now crept down to show a bit of his arse and his crack. Ron bent his head trying to see more, but it wasn't helping.

He had a death grip on his spatula now, and wondered if the man knew just how good looking he was. The man stuck his head under the sink and started clinking with his tools. Ron could see nothing but the partially covered arse.

Ron had a real urge to hit that arse with his spatula. What would happen, really? Ron wouldn't get his sink fixed? Or he'd get his sink fixed for free?

Ron sometimes was a bit rash. He did things that felt good, rather than what was appropriate. His regular boyfriend never seemed to mind that, as long as Ron was there for him and wore a short skirt while doing it.

Ron reached out his arm and touched the spatula to the back of the man's jeans. Not hard enough. The clinking noises continued. Ron reared his arm back and slapped the spatula to the man's arse. The clinking stopped. Ron was still, waiting to see what the man would do.

The man pushed back out from under the cabinet. He turned and stared at Ron. "Did you need something?"

Ron could feel himself getting hard and it was going to be difficult hiding it in the tiny skirt. "Um, maybe..."

The man popped a bubble again and said, "What?"

Ron lost his nerve. "Nothing..."

The man got up and moved quicker than Ron had thought he was capable of. He reached under Ron's skirt and brushed his cock. Ron gasped.

"That? Is that...what you...want?" the man drawled out slowly.

Ron whispered, "Yes,"

The man pressed himself up against Ron. He leaned into Ron's ear and whispered, "How do you want it?"

"How ever you want to give it to me,” said Ron, softly.

"Give me the spatula..."

Ron reluctantly let go of the spatula. The man reached around Ron and pulled up his skirt from the back, exposing his arse. The man took the spatula in his other hand and sharply slapped it on Ron's bare arse. Ron jumped, leaning into the man and his ever-growing erection.

Then in a one sweeping motion, the man shoved everything off of the kitchen table. Canisters of flour and sugar, jars of spices, and cookware went flying. The man shoved Ron toward the table and bent him over it. He slapped Ron again with the spatula. Ron’s face was squished up against the top of the table. He had flour in his hair, and was laying in a sprinkling of sugar.

The man spied a bowl of something on the counter. He put down the spatula for the moment. He leaned over Ron and asked, "What's that?"

Ron turned toward what the man was referring to. "It's frosting for a cake."

"Yum." He grabbed it off the counter and lifted the frosting-covered spoon out of the bowl. He shoved Ron's skirt up to his waist. He took the spoon and rubbed it on Ron's arse. It was cold, so Ron let out a little squeal.

"You like that, don't you?” said the man, roughly.

"Yes,” whispered Ron.

The man licked the frosting on Ron's arse. In swirling motions, he gradually heading toward Ron's hole. Ron grunted in ecstasy. This was better than he'd hoped.

The man swirled his tongue around the opening. Then he swept it in a long trail from the bottom of Ron's balls to the top of his crack. Ron let out a massive groan.

The man moved his head to one side and brushed his hair out of his eyes, before he grabbed more frosting on his tongue from Ron's arse. He moved his tongue around and around Ron's hole until he finally pressed it up against the opening. He darted his tongue back and forth, in and out of Ron's entrance. Ron was whimpering now.

The man wasn't going to go any faster. He was taking his time and enjoying it. This housewife was a little tart, and he needed to have someone really fuck him. He was going to make this little spatula-clutching slut beg for it. He'd been in this situation plenty of times before, and he usually didn't say no or have anyone say no to him.

He continued to dart his tongue back and forth, then make the sweeping trails up and down. He pulled away and stuck his index finger in the frosting. He showed Ron his finger as it went by. It was white and creamy. Ron moaned. The man shoved the whole mess inside Ron and moved it in and out. He bent his finger and pressed down, and Ron's body jolted and he squealed once again.

The man laughed and pulled his finger out. Then he dipped two fingers in the frosting. He brought them back to Ron's entrance and shoved them both in. It was sticky, but Ron was enjoying it. The man went in and out, pressing down and pushing in as far as his fingers would go.

The man pulled his fingers out and reached back to the frosting, where he dipped all his fingers.

Ron whimpered out, "Please?"

Here it came. The man smiled. "Please, what?"

Ron whispered, "Please?"

As the man shoved all four fingers into Ron, he said roughly, "I said, Please, what?"

As the four fingers were moving about his hole, Ron screamed out, "Please, fuck me!"

There it was. He wanted more though. “Beg me.”

Ron whispered, “Please, I beg you, please?”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me?”

The man sighed. This was not very good begging. He continued shoving his fingers in and out of Ron. His cock was hard though, and he needed to slide it into something hot and tight very soon. But first, he needed to hear the begging.

The man said, “You need to beg a little more.”

“I’m begging you." For added drama, he grasped his hands together in a begging motion and said, "Fuck me hard. Please, I want it so bad!” Then in a very clear voice, Ron said, “Fuck me, you bastard.”

That did it. The man swiftly pulled his hand out of Ron’s hole and tugged his jeans down over his hips. He grasped his own cock and shoved it forcefully into Ron. Ron squealed in delight, as the man thrust back and forth. The man grabbed onto Ron's hips and pushed himself inside so deep that the base of his cock was pressed up against Ron as far as it could go.

The man leaned back his head and let out a deep growl. He leaned forward and bit Ron on the lower back. He pulled himself out partially, and left his cock there, watching as Ron squirmed, trying to push back into the man and get the rest of his cock.

“No, it’s up to me. You squirm, you won’t get it back!” said the man. Ron stopped squirming and was rewarded with the man’s cock shoved back inside him. The man pulled on Ron’s hips, keeping him steady, thrusting back and forth.

The frosting was on Ron's hips and back now. The man reached down and lapped some of it up with his agile tongue. He kept moving back and forth. He was almost ready to come, but wanted to prolong it. He really wasn't interested in whether this housewife got off. The little slut could let the boyfriend do it later.

This one did have a tight little arse and the man pumped faster now. He really wanted to shove his cock as far up as he could. He continued to pound back and forth, slapping his body against the sweet little arse. Finally, he groaned out loud. He wanted to maintain domination. He didn't like it when he let himself get out of control or let the other person think he cared. He stifled his grunts, but his thrusts got quicker now, ready for release.

He pounded once last time, hard, making Ron scream out. He laughed as he felt himself release his come inside the tight arse. He arched his back, releasing more and more fluid, until he was spent. He wanted to learn forward on top of the Ron's back, but he didn't want to show weakness, so he let go of Ron's hips and pulled out of him, quickly. Ron moaned as he did this, but didn't move.

The man pulled his jeans up and turned back to the sink. He put his head under the sink and pick up his tool and began clinking again.

Ron just lay there, bent over the table, with his skirt up to his waist. He lay there among the sprinklings of sugar and the powdering of flour. He watched as the jean-clad arse bobbed around from under the cabinet and he could see the crack of his arse again.

After a long while, the man pulled himself out from under the sink. He raised up and pushed the garbage disposal switch. It worked. He smiled. He always fixed everything right the first time.

He glanced at the counter and saw the spatula. He picked it up and handed it to Ron.

"Your spatula," was all he said. Ron reached out a shaky hand and grabbed his spatula.

"Your sink is fixed, but don't worry...no charge." The man popped his gum again into a bubble.

Ron whispered, "Thank you."

The man picked up his tools and walked towards the door. He turned back to give Ron a sly smirk, “If you need your sink fixed again, call me.“ Then he walked out the door.

Ron watched him go. After the door closed, Ron finally moved himself slowly off the table. He adjusted his skirt and started to pick up the canisters and jars off the floor. He put his spatula down next to the bowl of frosting. He swept the floor and tried to tidy things up.

Things were still a bit disheveled, including Ron, when his boyfriend came through the front door after work. “Hi, Honey, I’m home!“

He walked into the kitchen, saw it wasn’t impeccably clean, as usual and that his boyfriend had flour in his hair.

“What happened?” the boyfriend asked.

His voice fading with each word, Ron said, “I tried to make a cake...”