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‘ Ain’t no such thing as too much pleasure’ is a silly thought Osamu hung onto for a long time. It even stayed for a while after he started dating both Rintarou and Issei. But then, they got to know each other — to find what makes one tick and how to work together for everything else to click. In bed, like in every other aspect of their lives, since they became three.
Tonight, — as they’re all kneeling on the bed, Rintarou in front of him and Issei at their side — Osamu has to admit he’s been proven wrong, once again. It can be overwhelming. It is too much. Yet, Osamu craves for nothing but more. He’s lost track of time — it’s the last thing he can or wants to focus on. All there is to his world are Issei and Rintarou. And the onslaught of sensations.
He’s thrusting into one end of the fleshlight Issei is holding. Rintarou is fucking into the other. And while their dicks slide against each other in the tight, slippery sleeve, they moan into each other’s mouths. Rintarou’s throbbing cock fucking the same sloppy hole could be the end of Osamu alone any day. But he has to face a few other predicaments.
There’s Issei’s hot palm kneading his asscheek. His middle finger toys with Osamu’s hole. There’s the fact that he knows Issei is doing the same thing to Rintarou. He stopped holding the fleshlight for them a moment ago to retrieve the lube before pouring a generous amount in both of his hands. Rintarou is the one holding the rubbery toy in a vice grip that makes the friction too good to be true.
And if being fingered by Issei while rutting against Rintarou’s hard dick wasn’t enough, Osamu has to endure the bite marks and hickeys Issei litters around his neck. He might implode at this rate. One of Osamu’s hands is gripping Rintarou’s wrist. His blunt nails are digging hard, Osamu can’t help it. He needs something to help him get a grip if he wants to focus enough on what his other hand is doing. It’s dripping with lube too. And there’s something else than the sleeve Rintarou and Osamu are fucking at the same time. They’re both knuckles deep inside Issei. The man remains composed, somehow. As if he’s barely affected by the three fingers up his ass. Rintarou is greedy. Osamu can barely keep up with moving one inside of Issei. Meanwhile Rintarou is trying to add a third while he devours Osamu’s lips.
Osamu lets him do his worst, content to just help. He’s starting to feel dizzy. The suction of the toy around his cock gets even more delightful – a torture. Rintarou whimpers in Osamu’s mouth. Issei is ravaging the side of his neck, now. It explains why Rintarou’s fist is tightening around the cocksleeve. Osamu avoids going cross-eyed by shutting them.
“Rin.” Osamu is panting when he groans the name. Rintarou’s lips immediately lock with his again, swallowing Osamu’s next warning.
He’s so close. So fucking close. And Issei is back on his case, teeth raking over his collarbone as he leans in between them. Then he bends lower, lower… Osamu shivers when a drop of sweat rolls down his navel for Issei’s tongue to collect. So, so close. Rintarou’s thrusts grow erratic against him. The finger toying with Osamu’s hole breaches him open just when Issei’s tongue curls around his nipple. His teeth scrape the hardening nub lightly and his finger finds Osamu’s prostate.
Osamu’s orgasm is so intense, and the lack of oxygen so real, he wonders if he’s going to pass out. But Rintarou bites his lips hard and the pain anchors Osamu while he rides it out. The cocksleeve hole becomes even sloppier when both of them cum in it, filling the toy to the brim. It’s warm, it’s hot, and Rintarou’s dick remains so hard against Osamu’s. It’s a bit too much to bear. Osamu hears himself babble stupid nonsense against Rintarou’s mouth while Issei kisses the side of his neck. Rintarou removes his fingers from Issei’s ass. Osamu mimics him without thinking too hard about it. Issei nips at Osamu’s jaw.
“My turn.” Issei sounds rough, his voice hoarse as if they’ve fucked his brains out already. He might look composed but Osamu knows he’s affected. With bleary eyes, he steals a glance at him. Issei’s chest and abs are glistening with sweat.
Another thing shimmering in the dim light of the room is the black metallic loop adorning his left nipple. Osamu can’t ogle at the piercing for long because Rintarou’s hands are suddenly on Issei’s chest. “You bet it’s your turn,” he says, his voice equally broken.
Osamu can only stare as his boyfriends share a heated kiss. He discards the cocksleeve somewhere on the bed, wincing from how sensitive his dick feels. Osamu steps out for a second. He feels parched. He grabs a water bottle from the nightstand, along with some tissues to wipe his dick. When he thinks about handing some to Issei and Rintarou, Osamu snorts, amused. A smirk curls his mouth as he watches them hump each other on the bed. His limp cock twitches. And how could it not? He has two of the hottest men alive in his bed, making out like horny dogs.
Osamu reaches out, entranced. Rintarou jolts when Osamu’s fingers find his taint. There’s lube everywhere. It’s easy for Osamu to press his index past Rintarou’s rim. He freezes over Issei’s body and the whole thing probably interrupts their kiss because Issei speaks again: “I said my turn, Osamu.”
“Don’t worry, love. Yer turn’s comin’,” Osamu says with a content sigh while he crooks his finger inside Rintarou. It makes him buck his hips down. Both him and Issei moan, which makes Osamu grin even more. “But we need ‘im hard again if ya wanna get dicked down good.”
Osamu would love to fuck Issei — especially when he’s asking so nicely — but his dick feels raw from sharing the goddamn fleshlight. Rintarou is capable of getting it up again way faster than Osamu too. Plus, Rintarou loves to finish boneless on the bed while he gets obliterated by Osamu and Issei teaming up on him. At least, when they have enough stamina left. They’re not there yet and Rintarou missed them both an awful lot. So for now, he’s eager to get rid of the pent up frustration accumulated over the past month.
Osamu gets comfortable between their legs, laying on his stomach. But it doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Rintarou to get hard again. Osamu has been abusing his prostate for a moment. The moment the remnants of lube were used up, Osamu decided to resort to what he does best. Eating his boyfriend’s ass sloppy. It made Rintarou yelp, then they kind of lost him. He’s rutting against Issei whose hands are fiercely gripping Rintarou’s ass, spreading him for Osamu to fuck him open with his tongue.
Until suddenly, there’s a hand fisting Osamu’s hair and tugging him off. “Samu, stop.” Rintarou wouldn’t come so fast again, but they all know he wants to take his sweet time fucking Issei before coming undone. Osamu’s face is a fucking mess. He rubs it against the sheets like some heathen, unable to shake off his dopey grin. His dick, trapped against the mattress, is starting to fill up again. He could come untouched just from eating ass. Osamu is a bit hopeless like that.
Issei can’t wait anymore, though. No one is coming until he does, that much is clear. He rolls over onto his stomach, still lying under Rintarou. Fuck… If Rintarou takes him like this, Osamu totally could keep going down on him and—
“Osamu. Come here,” Issei commands.
“Yessir.” Osamu guffaws but the order shoots an electrifying spike of desire down his spine. He scrambles on the bed, mesmerized to see Rintarou take a hold of Issei’s hips and perk his ass up.
Osamu knows what Issei wants. Both of them. To be completely filled. He gives his cock a few pumps as he kneels in front of Issei.
“Rubber?” Rintarou asks.
Issei looks over his shoulder and although his taunting smirk is directed at Rintarou, Osamu’s insides flutter. “Depends how tired you are.”
Rintarou’s grin is as mischievous as his own. “You’re in fucking luck, babe. I could go all night,” he says before he gives Osamu a nod. “You two don’t get used to it, though,” Rintarou adds while Osamu retrieves the condoms from the nightstand.
“Ya don’t say,” Osamu says when he hands them to Rintarou over Issei’s back.
Rintarou gives him a challenging look. “Got any complaints, Samu?”
“Not if I get lucky too.” Osamu knows he doesn’t need to tease Rintarou much to get him going, today. They don’t get to see him proactive in the bedroom often but when he is, both Issei and Osamu are far more than ‘lucky’. Rintarou rolls a condom down his cock, positioning himself while holding eye contact with Osamu. Yep. They’re nowhere near done.
Osamu’s attention returns to Issei. He throws his head back the moment Rintarou spreads him open, eyes rolling back. His jaw clenches and Osamu mourns the groan Issei is obviously holding in. It makes him want to kiss him, so Osamu does. He keeps it short. A peck on his slack mouth when Issei exhales long, slow and trembling. Osamu would be lying saying he doesn’t look forward to what Issei is asking of them. His dick is hard again — both from anticipation and the sight before him. So Osamu doesn’t take his time anymore when he guides himself toward Issei’s mouth.
Issei’s lips part as he reopens his eyes. His burning gaze settles over Osamu, holding it even when Rintarou slams inside him with a few short but powerful thrusts. Osamu fists his cock, taps the tip over Issei’s flat tongue a few times. Rintarou makes an appreciative sound before he goes still behind Issei. He grinds into him, keeping him in place.
“Fuck, yer so hot,” Osamu breathes out, pushing some of Issei’s wild strands out of his face before he grips his jaw. The same guy who tossed Osamu around this very Monday night after a particularly long shift — wanting nothing but to be taken and claimed.
Osamu thrusts into his pliant mouth, hissing from the overwhelming sensation. He needs to watch himself. Issei’s warm mouth begs to be fucked but Osamu is a bit oversensitive.
“Still don’t feel too tired, Rin?”
“I’m starting to think this is some sort of provocation,” Rintarou says. For good measure he pulls back before pressing inside Issei again — driving him onto Osamu’s cock.
“Ffffuck. That’s it,” Osamu moans.
“You want me to do all your fucking job and I’m the lazy one?” Rintarou picks up the pace, eyes glued to Osamu as he does so. Issei gags on Osamu’s cock the third time.
“It’s a bit rude to hold a conversation over him,” Osamu says, both hands threading into Issei’s hair. There’s a moan that vibrates around his dick as Osamu buries it down Issei’s throat. Then suddenly hands push on Osamu's thighs and Issei is staring at him — hooded, watery eyes full of intensity.
“Rude enough for me to show my teeth.”
Osamu's stomach does a flip. Not that the idea of having his dick bitten off is appealing. But he knows Issei doesn't mean it. However, Issei does mean business and both Osamu and Rintarou better behave if they don't want him to have a change of heart. Osamu wouldn’t regret getting wrecked by him but…
A glance at Rintarou biting his lips while running a hand down Issei's spine makes Osamu crave for more of what they already have. Rintarou is fucking Issei deep and slow, eyes tracking back to where their bodies connect.
“You either give it to me or you two can go fuck yourself. Not each other, in case that wasn’t clear enough,” Issei says when Rintarou drags things for too long. Osamu’s dick is not even an inch away from his mouth when Issei looks up, so he obliges.
Osamu’s hands cup his face gently while Issei swallows him inch by inch. And it’s like Rintarou is waiting for Osamu to get comfortable before he starts fucking into Issei in earnest. It’s painted on Issei’s face soon enough. And they can hear it very clearly. Issei is a happy man. So are they.
Osamu has to hold onto the headboard behind him after a moment. He’s not able to do anything but watch as Issei gags on his cock — pushed onto him by Rintarou’s relentless thrusts. He pulls back at times, both to get over the last shreds of overstimulation and to let Issei breathe. But Issei’s hands are pawing at Osamu’s thighs pretty often. Snaking behind him to grip his ass with firm hands and dragging him back so Osamu can fuck his face.
Rintarou’s mouth is gaping, head lolling backward. His knuckles are white where he grips Issei’s waist. He’s whispering a string of curses that Osamu knows all too well.
“C’mere,” he says as he leans over Issei’s body. Rintarou doesn’t need to be told twice. Their lips meet in a filthy, heated kiss.
Issei keens under them at the same time Osamu’s dick hits the back of his throat and Rintarou buries himself deep inside him. His nails dig into the meat of Osamu’s ass. They’re all getting near — especially Rintarou. He’s stopped thrusting into Issei, grinding his hips in circles instead while Osamu fucks Rintarou’s mouth with his tongue.
Rintarou breaks the kiss to lean over Issei's back. The way he wraps his arms around him is so loving, it makes Osamu yearn for it despite being involved already.
“‘m close,” Rintarou mumbles against Issei's skin, kissing the shell of his ear. His hair tickles Osamu's navel.
“I'm not,” Issei says, popping off of Osamu's dick, his lips moving against him as he addresses Rintarou.
“Lucky you've got two—shit! Boyfriends.”
“Two shit boyfriends? You said it, not me.” Issei repeats Rintarou's words with a smirk while rutting back against him a second, deadlier time. But Rintarou bites on another curse and moves away so he can slap Issei's ass in retaliation. Issei grunts but doesn't let it stop him.
In a flash, he's turning around and two strong hands land on Rintarou's shoulders. “You're the one who's lucky we missed you too much to put you in jail time.”
Rintarou’s face lights up and he goes down on the mattress without a single protest. He knows better than making another comment. Issei guides him until Rintarou is laying with his head between Issei’s legs. After that, he’s completely ignored so he busies himself removing the condom. Osamu finds himself the source of Issei’s focus instead.
Rintarou and Issei don’t kiss the same way. Osamu doesn’t favor one more than the other. Right now, he’s perfectly happy with a demanding hand curling around his neck and teeth pulling on his already swollen lips. It’s a bit rough — just like Issei’s voice when his low whisper rumbles in Osamu’s ear: “Think you can finish the job?”
A shiver runs down Osamu’s spine. There’s a bit of a challenge there. He wonders if his pupils are blown as wide as Issei’s when he looks into his eyes with that hungry spark. “Think you can take me?” Osamu answers with the same tone, the corner of his mouth twisting into what he hopes is a confident grin.
“Give it to me,” Issei says before nipping on Osamu’s bottom lip one last time. And like Rintarou, Osamu doesn’t need to be told twice.
Issei turns his back to him, kneeling over Rintarou’s face who’s stroking himself at a lazy pace. Osamu suddenly finds himself wanting to fuck Issei while he takes Rintarou’s cock but that will have to wait for another time.
Rintarou’s hands find their way on Issei’s thighs, caressing the sensitive skin there while Osamu’s fist curls around Issei’s dick. He guides him to Rintarou’s mouth himself. He uses his other hand to press between his shoulder blades until Issei is laying on top of Rintarou and swallowing his cock as well. When Osamu sees them like this — throaty moans joining wet sounds as they suck each other off… he thinks it’s too perfect to be true.
Osamu’s dreams are pretty humble. An honest life, a solid business, simple happiness. He’d never have dared dreaming of having these two men for himself — yet here he is. Osamu makes a point of making the most of it, day after day.
He observes them for another minute while fucking his own fist. Osamu was supposed to lube himself up but he knows he could get off just from watching them. He’s worked up enough to have a hard time keeping quiet when he takes a hold of Issei’s hips and slides home. Issei is tight. They keep teasing each other and moving; he barely has time to lose himself to the pleasure entirely.
“F’cking christ…” Issei's voice is muffled but Osamu knows what expression is painted on his face. His back is arching for a second before Rintarou’s hands are splayed his ass to pull Issei down again. Osamu chuckles when he hears him choke on Issei’s dick — biting off more than he can chew. But then he looks down where Rintarou’s hands are spreading Issei’s cheeks apart and the view shuts Osamu up. Seeing Issei split on his dick is enough to make him feel dizzy. Osamu’s mouth goes dry.
It’s a good thing he didn’t promise anything. He can get Issei there, but sooner than what Osamu assumed.
“Oh fuck! Rin!” Osamu gasps his name, abs going taunt. Rintarou’s hand snaked between their legs somehow and is now playing with Osamu’s balls and taint. “Wait, wait, wai—shit!” It’s moving further up until one of his fingers brushes Osamu’s rim.
Osamu tells himself it’s to escape the merciless touch and not because Issei feels so tight and delicious that he slams into him. Rintarou chokes again. A moan they rarely get to hear escapes Issei’s mouth. And then he’s squeezing Osamu’s dick like a fucking dream.
It’s too much for Osamu, who topples over the edge. It’s not a problem. Issei’s own actions speak for themselves. He might still be coming down Rintarou’s throat. Osamu isn’t sure what’s happening. He’s blinded by his own orgasm.
Nails scraping his thighs chase away the fog clouding his judgment. Rintarou gags. Or moans — probably both at the same time. What’s certain is that Osamu is still buried deep inside Issei and weighing down on him. He fights the sluggishness to move away from them both so Rintarou can breathe again. Issei isn’t faring much better than Osamu. His body is shaking, his movements seem to cost him a lot. But he gets on all four over Rintarou and he’s still sucking him off as he does so. He’s going to milk him dry. Osamu gapes a little as he looks at Rintarou’s body arching off of the mattress. At the way he throws his head back. And at his ruined face twisted in ecstasy.
Osamu’s chest is heaving when he sits back against the headboard to collect himself. Issei collapses next to Rintarou. One breathes long and slow — the other one fast and shaky. Osamu smiles like an idiot.
“Did ya miss us too?”
Rintarou’s mouth quirks into a grin even if his eyes are closed. He knows the question is for him. “Kinda.”
“He’s full of shit,” Osamu says as Issei groans with a vague gesture toward the nightstand. Osamu grabs the bottle of water left there and hands it to him.
“I’m nowhere near full,” Rintarou says. He rolls onto his stomach to give them both a smirk then crawls his way to Issei to peck him on the shoulder. “But if you promise I can be, it might help me be more honest.”
Osamu barks a laugh. Issei isn’t laughing, he’s biting his bottom lip. Rintarou couldn’t look more smug. It makes Osamu’s stomach drop. Damn freaks. “I’m fuckin’ wrecked,” he says as if his opinion matters.
Rintarou’s attention shifts onto him. Osamu’s heart drums in his chest when Rintarou moves to kneel between his legs and give his jaw a sweet kiss. “S’fine. You don’t have to do a thing. Lucky you…” Osamu doesn’t want to argue. He’ll do whatever they ask, they’ll do whatever he needs. And indeed…
It only takes another hour for Osamu to be unable to think. He is pressed down on the table in the living room, Rintarou fucking into him long and slow. When he looks over his shoulder, Osamu can see Issei grab a fistful of Rintarou’s hair so he can kiss his throat before making out with him. Issei takes Rintarou from behind, his thrusts setting the pace for the three of them in a way that has Osamu losing his mind. His eyes flutter shut, his cheek rubbing against the tabletop as he’s fucked by the both of them. A silent plea stuck in his throat, Osamu drowns in a sea of lust and pleasure that makes him forget anything that isn’t them.
But if he could still form a coherent thought, he’d agree.
The three of them finding each other… it’s not like it starts to cover it. But surely, they can call themselves lucky.