Godsend
Title: Godsend
Warnings: Threesome, DP, godliness. OCs.
Rating: R18+
Pairing: Mother/Kurama/Inari
Summary: Kurama awakens to find that Mother Nature has brought along a friend for one of his sparse, late night visits.
Notes: Come on, tell me you honestly didn’t expect me to think of this sooner or later. No this really has no plot. Meh, there’s sex.
Godsend
-
“Wake up, Kurama...I have a present for you.”
There was no one else the voice could have belonged to. Prying his heavy eyes open, Kurama roused himself from deep sleep to look into wide green eyes.
It had been quite a few years since Mother’s last visit, he’d almost thought that Mother was disappointed in Kurama’s choice to remain human after the first of the demon tournaments. But no, here he was, clothed in nothing but a wraith of dark brown silk that made plainly clear the shape of his body and the duality of his gender.
Kurama followed the length of red hair flowing off the side of his bed and along the floor to his window. There, standing before the now-open window, was another being. This one shone slightly, and it couldn’t have been because of the moon breaking through the thunderstorm that hovered above the city. No, the shine came from within this being.
Hands hidden beneath long white sleeves of a many layered formal kimono were poised before his mouth, but curious red eyes watched from behind long white hair that somehow morphed into the being’s clothing. On his forehead, above where his eyebrows should have been, were two dark dots.
Kurama blinked and flicked his eyes back to Mother, then to his clock that rested on his desk, but that was angled towards him. A little past midnight. He’d slept for all of two hours.
Mother tilted his head and grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in his companions glow.
He turned to look forward again. Comprehension slammed into Kurama and his eyes widened.
“Inari...”
“This is correct,” Mother purred, which sounded a lot like a growl on account of his unnatural voice. “Now,” he continued, plucking at the sheets covering Kurama with his long nails, “let him see you properly.”
It was just as well that Mother was nudging and pulling at him, coaxing him out of his bed and onto the floor beside it; Kurama couldn’t have moved on his own if he tried. Because of his pride and because of the utter horror that was crushing down on him at the sight before him. Slotting himself between Kurama and the bed, Mother wrapped his arms around Kurama’s chest and rested his chin on his shoulder, pressing his bare breasts against his back.
Kurama’s core was racing, he was sure. He certainly felt lightheaded and cold all of a sudden. Meeting Mother Nature was one thing, meeting his patron god (at least, he was taking the form of a god at the moment; not a goddess) was another. Especially after his misdeeds as Youko Kurama many years ago, the way he’d ignored her in favour of satiating his worldly lusts for pretty things and blood.
The red eyes narrowed, curved upwards, in a way that suggested a smile, but Inari’s hands didn’t move from his mouth. Inari inclined his head ever so slightly, a greeting to a lesser being. Kurama swallowed thickly and returned the nod as deeply as he could, as Mother’s hands wouldn’t loosen enough to allow a proper greeting.
He felt a little like a puppet as Mother picked up one of his hands and started running his long black tongue along Kurama’s fingers, making a quiet purring sound as he did.
“I-...”
Mother made a sound that sounded something like a cackle. “Oh, there’s no need to be so terrified. I haven’t seen or felt you shake like this since that disgusting crow made it his mission to take you as his own. What was his name...Karasu?”
Kurama glared at Mother over his shoulder and then the fingers wrapped around his wrist that held his hand, thin and more twig-like than actual fingers at the moment. He turned back to Inari on hearing the god’s kimono rustle slightly with the gentle breeze flowing through the window. Looking at the folds of white silk where Inari’s feet were hidden behind, Kurama swallowed thickly again. “I have dishonoured you, and yet you stand before me.”
Inari finally moved. He dropped his hands to his sides and walked to Kurama. His lips were a starling shade of blue, stark against the utter ivory of his skin. Kneeling before Kurama elegantly, between his and Mother’s legs, he placed a clothed hand to Kurama’s chin and tilted his head up to look into his eyes. Pale blue lips moved, but no sound was uttered.
Kurama lip-read what he could, filled in the rest as Mother’s long longue lapped at the sensitive hollow behind his ear. A shudder crept its way up his back and splayed along his neck and shoulders, raising a pretty little blush along his cheeks. His cock stirred. Circumstantial, child. You still carried my messages, even if you would not speak to the others of your kind.
“He cannot speak in Ningenkai, it would cause chaos. His power is far greater than Koenma’s. Equal to Enma’s, I would guess, were I kind enough to offer a comparison,” Mother explained in a playful tone, his breath tickling the fine hairs at Kurama’s neck. Koenma, after all, was a paper pusher. Inari was so much more.
The god nodded, his lips curving into a smile. You are forgiven.
“Then why are you here?” Kurama asked, for once saying something without thinking first. He clamped his mouth shut and locked his expression off behind a blank mask in embarrassment as soon as the words fled his lips. It wasn’t often he checked his words out of a need to be respectful. Usually, he managed to cloak insults behind smooth words and a soft smile, but not this time, and certainly not to Inari. He felt as if the god could see through him, into the vast reaches of the past and future, celestial mysteries, and the essence of life itself.
Mother’s hands slid down his chest, fingers splayed wide, and caressed his thighs through the soft cotton pants he slept in, before diving between his legs. Kurama gasped sharply, his back arching against Mother’s chest. He smothered the keen that fought to escape his throat, tipping his head back a little, his eyes remaining on Inari.
Creeping forward a little further, Inari’s hands slipped from his sleeves and rested on either side of Kurama’s jaw. He tilted Kurama’s head up, and Kurama stared into bottomless red eyes for a long while, noticing how obscenely long his eyelashes were---then he was kissing Inari. The kiss itself awakened something Kurama had been stubbornly ignoring for the past few years; something indignant that it had been ignored so very thoroughly. He hungered for the touch of flesh against his, to be fucked and love it to the bottom of his heart. He wanted to be carnal and filled with nothing but base desires and instinct.
Inari kissed very well.
At some point their teeth clashed and Kurama jerked his head back, parting from Inari, only to have Mother fist a hand in his hair and pull his head back, then paw it to the side so that he too could kiss from Kurama, urging him to arch his back a little so their lips could meet easier.
He moaned, clutching at Inari’s kimono blindly as Mother’s hand massaged his cock through the thin material and stole his thoughts with his lingering kiss. There was a brief moment of sharp pain against the side of his tongue. Kurama tasted blood, felt it dribble down from the corner of his mouth and along his jaw. Another hot tongue lapped at their lips, along the trail of blood, and fingers traced down his neck softly, curled a hand in his carmine hair and let it slip through white fingers.
Mother released him, licking his black lips, and let Kurama face forward again, his hand lessening its tight grip on his hair. Kurama panted, his eyes half lidded, as blood pooled at his chin and dropped to his bare chest.
Worship us, Inari mouthed once again, as he raised himself up onto his haunches. The kimono that was somehow also his hair slunk away, leaving a being that looked frighteningly a lot like a kitsune in its wake. He lacked the tails and ears, but the presence was definitely there, the cunning and almost stifling sense of utter power. His blue lips were stained with Kurama’s blood, white, perfect teeth tinged pink.
Kurama obeyed, leaning forward and raising up onto his knees to reach Inari’s lip for another blood-tainted kiss as Mother mouthed at his shoulder and worked his cotton pants down his hips and to his knees.
Maybe there was something perverse about it, but Kurama couldn’t bring himself to care. Yusuke would make jokes about sex-calls and horny priestesses, Hiei would be quietly proud and even more loyal because of it, Kuwabara would protest his virtue. For the moment, all Kurama could think about was the tongue against his own, and the long, skeletal fingers gripping the globes of his ass tight as hot lips and a tongue traced the curve of his spine.
Inari’s long fingers raked through his hair and he moved closer until he became aware of the lack of body-heat coming from before him, then the sudden change in his body. He wasn’t small, fragile human Kurama anymore. He was kitsune. He was tall, powerful, sensual Kurama.
His ears flicked back in confusion and Mother wrapped a hand around his tail and began to stroke it, then down the ravine of his ass, pressing suddenly slick fingers against his entrance that was suddenly empty, too empty. He was hot, and panting into Inari’s mouth as his hands slid along shoulders and the hard planes of the god’s chest and then up to his neck where he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.
He recognized this feeling.
The rut.
Of course, he should have expected it. Inari was fertility, life, and what was Mother but a disciple of Inari? And so then what was Kurama? But a servant. Something to fuck and favour, smile upon, give blessings and Get Out of Jail Free cards.
Mother pulled him back against his chest, his slick hand leaving his ass for a moment as he coaxed his legs wide until there was nothing to hide from Inari. Kurama panted, let his head fall back against Mother’s shoulder as Inari reached forward and brushed the tips of his fingers along the cotton pants that were still coiled around his calves and ankles. The material fell apart into thousands of small cotton bolls that glowed and then twinkled into nothingness.
Inari looked up at him, red eyes narrowed in lust and blue lips parted and tinged purple with the blood still remaining there. Are you hungry, child?
Mother and Inari reached forward at the same time, their hands coiling together and wrapping around his cock. Another slipped further to tease his perineum, then down further until the tip of a long finger slipped inside him again just barely. Kurama moaned and writhed, rocked his hips up into the hands and tilted his head obligingly to the side at the warmth of a tongue and lips at his neck. “Yes.”
Do you need?
“Yes,” he managed to get out, barely keeping himself from keening. He needed more, needed something inside, needed tobe inside. He wanted to fuck until he passed out and the burning in his veins cooled and then do it all over again. The hand on his cock squeezed, and he whimpered, bucking up into it, moaning loudly when the hand stayed, pulled at his cock slowly.
“We will have you,” Mother purred into his ear, rocked into his middle back until Kurama could feel his precome smearing on his skin. “We think it is about time you showed us a little physical appreciation.”
Physical appreciation?
He couldn’t think about it at length, because Inari’s hands were under him, gripping his thighs, and lifting him up. Heat nudged at his entrance and he held on tightly to Inari’s nape as he was lowered down onto a thick cock that forged deep and--oh gods was it hot and so wonderful inside. Mother grunted, rocked his hips up, the tight pebbles of his nipples brushing against Kurama’s back as he did, his skeletal fingers settling on his waist and helping him move until Kurama has the sense to rise onto his knees and fuck himself on his cock like his body was screaming at him to. Inari stayed close, shifting all the more closer now, between Mother’s legs and close enough that Kurama’s cock brushed against his and their chests were pressed against each other.
There was nothing but skin against skin for a long while, then Inari’s lips sought his and pried his mouth open, kissed him hard until Kurama felt like he was floating. He moaned with each long thrust Mother made, moving back to meet him, both distracted and wholly absorbed in the both of them until he couldn’t tell who was doing what-all there was were the hands and heat and need.
“More,” he moaned, gripping at Inari’s back and forcing himself back on Mother, pulling the god with him. It wasn’t enough he needed-not enough-more. “More-harder, fuck me, want both...” he sighed, a desperate lilt to his tone. The rut had always made him crazy with lust. An orgy was never enough, he could take many lovers all at once and it still wasn’t enough, he could have the most violent fuck until he was bleeding and exhausted and yet still be hard and craving.
He opened his eyes just enough to see Inari’s lips curve into a smile, and he thought he heard the earthquake-like rumble of a chuckle from Mother, but he couldn’t focus on a specific thought long enough to analyse them properly. Hands were on his hips again, a finger inside him along with Mother’s cock, and then came the sting of being stretched almost unbearably wide. Kurama gave a choked scream and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, panting and forcing himself down until Inari’s cock was deep inside him too.
“Aaah...”
Hands were in his hair, against his neck, sliding through sweat and caressing muscles as he panted and was given only a moment for himself to adjust before he keened as they began to rock again, fucking Kurama in tandem, gaining speed and force. Letting his head fall back on his shoulders and his hands claw at whatever flesh they found, Kurama almost saw stars in Inari’s hair and felt the rush of the power of the world within him as they fucked him, forcing his breath from him with each thrust until he thought he would die from just how very wonderful it all felt.
“Ah! Ah...”
Euphoria circled, gripped him tight, flooded his body, his mind, made him delirious as he cried out again and again and again. With two of them it was near constant, the pleasure and just how full he was, the heat of their bodies against his own and the soft touch of Inari’s tail against his leg. It all built up so wonderfully quick, powerful and wanted. Kurama saw it only as a holy grail, a gift from his patrons.
Inari’s lips covered his own to smother his cries as he came closer and closer to his end, back arching and face flushed, cheek red with arousal and pleasure. Mother pinched and pulled at his nipples, sending even more bolts of pleasure through him even amongst the entirety of what he was feeling. He felt hot breath against his cheek, Mother’s lips against his neck, and then Inari’s shortly after too.
They spoke to him, called through their bodies. A resounding impulse.
Their lips moved against his neck, mouthing, come. A command, one he had no desire to ignore.
Tipping his head back, Kurama let himself fall into the tide and allow the current push him and push him. The pleasure rose and his body tightened, muscles coiled and his fingers fisted in white and red hair.
He screamed as he came, the world around him going white and shapeless for a moment.
He spilled himself, shuddered as it passed through him like a creature of pure hedonism. He felt Mother and Inari continuing to use his body until they, too came, biting at his neck on either side and growling, rumbling. He felt like he was going to pass out for a moment, as Inari gave him a taste of his pleasure.
They gave him a moment to settle, remained close and within him.
And then they did it all over again. And again.
Warnings: Threesome, DP, godliness. OCs.
Rating: R18+
Pairing: Mother/Kurama/Inari
Summary: Kurama awakens to find that Mother Nature has brought along a friend for one of his sparse, late night visits.
Notes: Come on, tell me you honestly didn’t expect me to think of this sooner or later. No this really has no plot. Meh, there’s sex.
Godsend
-
“Wake up, Kurama...I have a present for you.”
There was no one else the voice could have belonged to. Prying his heavy eyes open, Kurama roused himself from deep sleep to look into wide green eyes.
It had been quite a few years since Mother’s last visit, he’d almost thought that Mother was disappointed in Kurama’s choice to remain human after the first of the demon tournaments. But no, here he was, clothed in nothing but a wraith of dark brown silk that made plainly clear the shape of his body and the duality of his gender.
Kurama followed the length of red hair flowing off the side of his bed and along the floor to his window. There, standing before the now-open window, was another being. This one shone slightly, and it couldn’t have been because of the moon breaking through the thunderstorm that hovered above the city. No, the shine came from within this being.
Hands hidden beneath long white sleeves of a many layered formal kimono were poised before his mouth, but curious red eyes watched from behind long white hair that somehow morphed into the being’s clothing. On his forehead, above where his eyebrows should have been, were two dark dots.
Kurama blinked and flicked his eyes back to Mother, then to his clock that rested on his desk, but that was angled towards him. A little past midnight. He’d slept for all of two hours.
Mother tilted his head and grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in his companions glow.
He turned to look forward again. Comprehension slammed into Kurama and his eyes widened.
“Inari...”
“This is correct,” Mother purred, which sounded a lot like a growl on account of his unnatural voice. “Now,” he continued, plucking at the sheets covering Kurama with his long nails, “let him see you properly.”
It was just as well that Mother was nudging and pulling at him, coaxing him out of his bed and onto the floor beside it; Kurama couldn’t have moved on his own if he tried. Because of his pride and because of the utter horror that was crushing down on him at the sight before him. Slotting himself between Kurama and the bed, Mother wrapped his arms around Kurama’s chest and rested his chin on his shoulder, pressing his bare breasts against his back.
Kurama’s core was racing, he was sure. He certainly felt lightheaded and cold all of a sudden. Meeting Mother Nature was one thing, meeting his patron god (at least, he was taking the form of a god at the moment; not a goddess) was another. Especially after his misdeeds as Youko Kurama many years ago, the way he’d ignored her in favour of satiating his worldly lusts for pretty things and blood.
The red eyes narrowed, curved upwards, in a way that suggested a smile, but Inari’s hands didn’t move from his mouth. Inari inclined his head ever so slightly, a greeting to a lesser being. Kurama swallowed thickly and returned the nod as deeply as he could, as Mother’s hands wouldn’t loosen enough to allow a proper greeting.
He felt a little like a puppet as Mother picked up one of his hands and started running his long black tongue along Kurama’s fingers, making a quiet purring sound as he did.
“I-...”
Mother made a sound that sounded something like a cackle. “Oh, there’s no need to be so terrified. I haven’t seen or felt you shake like this since that disgusting crow made it his mission to take you as his own. What was his name...Karasu?”
Kurama glared at Mother over his shoulder and then the fingers wrapped around his wrist that held his hand, thin and more twig-like than actual fingers at the moment. He turned back to Inari on hearing the god’s kimono rustle slightly with the gentle breeze flowing through the window. Looking at the folds of white silk where Inari’s feet were hidden behind, Kurama swallowed thickly again. “I have dishonoured you, and yet you stand before me.”
Inari finally moved. He dropped his hands to his sides and walked to Kurama. His lips were a starling shade of blue, stark against the utter ivory of his skin. Kneeling before Kurama elegantly, between his and Mother’s legs, he placed a clothed hand to Kurama’s chin and tilted his head up to look into his eyes. Pale blue lips moved, but no sound was uttered.
Kurama lip-read what he could, filled in the rest as Mother’s long longue lapped at the sensitive hollow behind his ear. A shudder crept its way up his back and splayed along his neck and shoulders, raising a pretty little blush along his cheeks. His cock stirred. Circumstantial, child. You still carried my messages, even if you would not speak to the others of your kind.
“He cannot speak in Ningenkai, it would cause chaos. His power is far greater than Koenma’s. Equal to Enma’s, I would guess, were I kind enough to offer a comparison,” Mother explained in a playful tone, his breath tickling the fine hairs at Kurama’s neck. Koenma, after all, was a paper pusher. Inari was so much more.
The god nodded, his lips curving into a smile. You are forgiven.
“Then why are you here?” Kurama asked, for once saying something without thinking first. He clamped his mouth shut and locked his expression off behind a blank mask in embarrassment as soon as the words fled his lips. It wasn’t often he checked his words out of a need to be respectful. Usually, he managed to cloak insults behind smooth words and a soft smile, but not this time, and certainly not to Inari. He felt as if the god could see through him, into the vast reaches of the past and future, celestial mysteries, and the essence of life itself.
Mother’s hands slid down his chest, fingers splayed wide, and caressed his thighs through the soft cotton pants he slept in, before diving between his legs. Kurama gasped sharply, his back arching against Mother’s chest. He smothered the keen that fought to escape his throat, tipping his head back a little, his eyes remaining on Inari.
Creeping forward a little further, Inari’s hands slipped from his sleeves and rested on either side of Kurama’s jaw. He tilted Kurama’s head up, and Kurama stared into bottomless red eyes for a long while, noticing how obscenely long his eyelashes were---then he was kissing Inari. The kiss itself awakened something Kurama had been stubbornly ignoring for the past few years; something indignant that it had been ignored so very thoroughly. He hungered for the touch of flesh against his, to be fucked and love it to the bottom of his heart. He wanted to be carnal and filled with nothing but base desires and instinct.
Inari kissed very well.
At some point their teeth clashed and Kurama jerked his head back, parting from Inari, only to have Mother fist a hand in his hair and pull his head back, then paw it to the side so that he too could kiss from Kurama, urging him to arch his back a little so their lips could meet easier.
He moaned, clutching at Inari’s kimono blindly as Mother’s hand massaged his cock through the thin material and stole his thoughts with his lingering kiss. There was a brief moment of sharp pain against the side of his tongue. Kurama tasted blood, felt it dribble down from the corner of his mouth and along his jaw. Another hot tongue lapped at their lips, along the trail of blood, and fingers traced down his neck softly, curled a hand in his carmine hair and let it slip through white fingers.
Mother released him, licking his black lips, and let Kurama face forward again, his hand lessening its tight grip on his hair. Kurama panted, his eyes half lidded, as blood pooled at his chin and dropped to his bare chest.
Worship us, Inari mouthed once again, as he raised himself up onto his haunches. The kimono that was somehow also his hair slunk away, leaving a being that looked frighteningly a lot like a kitsune in its wake. He lacked the tails and ears, but the presence was definitely there, the cunning and almost stifling sense of utter power. His blue lips were stained with Kurama’s blood, white, perfect teeth tinged pink.
Kurama obeyed, leaning forward and raising up onto his knees to reach Inari’s lip for another blood-tainted kiss as Mother mouthed at his shoulder and worked his cotton pants down his hips and to his knees.
Maybe there was something perverse about it, but Kurama couldn’t bring himself to care. Yusuke would make jokes about sex-calls and horny priestesses, Hiei would be quietly proud and even more loyal because of it, Kuwabara would protest his virtue. For the moment, all Kurama could think about was the tongue against his own, and the long, skeletal fingers gripping the globes of his ass tight as hot lips and a tongue traced the curve of his spine.
Inari’s long fingers raked through his hair and he moved closer until he became aware of the lack of body-heat coming from before him, then the sudden change in his body. He wasn’t small, fragile human Kurama anymore. He was kitsune. He was tall, powerful, sensual Kurama.
His ears flicked back in confusion and Mother wrapped a hand around his tail and began to stroke it, then down the ravine of his ass, pressing suddenly slick fingers against his entrance that was suddenly empty, too empty. He was hot, and panting into Inari’s mouth as his hands slid along shoulders and the hard planes of the god’s chest and then up to his neck where he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.
He recognized this feeling.
The rut.
Of course, he should have expected it. Inari was fertility, life, and what was Mother but a disciple of Inari? And so then what was Kurama? But a servant. Something to fuck and favour, smile upon, give blessings and Get Out of Jail Free cards.
Mother pulled him back against his chest, his slick hand leaving his ass for a moment as he coaxed his legs wide until there was nothing to hide from Inari. Kurama panted, let his head fall back against Mother’s shoulder as Inari reached forward and brushed the tips of his fingers along the cotton pants that were still coiled around his calves and ankles. The material fell apart into thousands of small cotton bolls that glowed and then twinkled into nothingness.
Inari looked up at him, red eyes narrowed in lust and blue lips parted and tinged purple with the blood still remaining there. Are you hungry, child?
Mother and Inari reached forward at the same time, their hands coiling together and wrapping around his cock. Another slipped further to tease his perineum, then down further until the tip of a long finger slipped inside him again just barely. Kurama moaned and writhed, rocked his hips up into the hands and tilted his head obligingly to the side at the warmth of a tongue and lips at his neck. “Yes.”
Do you need?
“Yes,” he managed to get out, barely keeping himself from keening. He needed more, needed something inside, needed tobe inside. He wanted to fuck until he passed out and the burning in his veins cooled and then do it all over again. The hand on his cock squeezed, and he whimpered, bucking up into it, moaning loudly when the hand stayed, pulled at his cock slowly.
“We will have you,” Mother purred into his ear, rocked into his middle back until Kurama could feel his precome smearing on his skin. “We think it is about time you showed us a little physical appreciation.”
Physical appreciation?
He couldn’t think about it at length, because Inari’s hands were under him, gripping his thighs, and lifting him up. Heat nudged at his entrance and he held on tightly to Inari’s nape as he was lowered down onto a thick cock that forged deep and--oh gods was it hot and so wonderful inside. Mother grunted, rocked his hips up, the tight pebbles of his nipples brushing against Kurama’s back as he did, his skeletal fingers settling on his waist and helping him move until Kurama has the sense to rise onto his knees and fuck himself on his cock like his body was screaming at him to. Inari stayed close, shifting all the more closer now, between Mother’s legs and close enough that Kurama’s cock brushed against his and their chests were pressed against each other.
There was nothing but skin against skin for a long while, then Inari’s lips sought his and pried his mouth open, kissed him hard until Kurama felt like he was floating. He moaned with each long thrust Mother made, moving back to meet him, both distracted and wholly absorbed in the both of them until he couldn’t tell who was doing what-all there was were the hands and heat and need.
“More,” he moaned, gripping at Inari’s back and forcing himself back on Mother, pulling the god with him. It wasn’t enough he needed-not enough-more. “More-harder, fuck me, want both...” he sighed, a desperate lilt to his tone. The rut had always made him crazy with lust. An orgy was never enough, he could take many lovers all at once and it still wasn’t enough, he could have the most violent fuck until he was bleeding and exhausted and yet still be hard and craving.
He opened his eyes just enough to see Inari’s lips curve into a smile, and he thought he heard the earthquake-like rumble of a chuckle from Mother, but he couldn’t focus on a specific thought long enough to analyse them properly. Hands were on his hips again, a finger inside him along with Mother’s cock, and then came the sting of being stretched almost unbearably wide. Kurama gave a choked scream and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, panting and forcing himself down until Inari’s cock was deep inside him too.
“Aaah...”
Hands were in his hair, against his neck, sliding through sweat and caressing muscles as he panted and was given only a moment for himself to adjust before he keened as they began to rock again, fucking Kurama in tandem, gaining speed and force. Letting his head fall back on his shoulders and his hands claw at whatever flesh they found, Kurama almost saw stars in Inari’s hair and felt the rush of the power of the world within him as they fucked him, forcing his breath from him with each thrust until he thought he would die from just how very wonderful it all felt.
“Ah! Ah...”
Euphoria circled, gripped him tight, flooded his body, his mind, made him delirious as he cried out again and again and again. With two of them it was near constant, the pleasure and just how full he was, the heat of their bodies against his own and the soft touch of Inari’s tail against his leg. It all built up so wonderfully quick, powerful and wanted. Kurama saw it only as a holy grail, a gift from his patrons.
Inari’s lips covered his own to smother his cries as he came closer and closer to his end, back arching and face flushed, cheek red with arousal and pleasure. Mother pinched and pulled at his nipples, sending even more bolts of pleasure through him even amongst the entirety of what he was feeling. He felt hot breath against his cheek, Mother’s lips against his neck, and then Inari’s shortly after too.
They spoke to him, called through their bodies. A resounding impulse.
Their lips moved against his neck, mouthing, come. A command, one he had no desire to ignore.
Tipping his head back, Kurama let himself fall into the tide and allow the current push him and push him. The pleasure rose and his body tightened, muscles coiled and his fingers fisted in white and red hair.
He screamed as he came, the world around him going white and shapeless for a moment.
He spilled himself, shuddered as it passed through him like a creature of pure hedonism. He felt Mother and Inari continuing to use his body until they, too came, biting at his neck on either side and growling, rumbling. He felt like he was going to pass out for a moment, as Inari gave him a taste of his pleasure.
They gave him a moment to settle, remained close and within him.
And then they did it all over again. And again.