here, we define 'cumming' of age. ...LOL. YOU KNOW THAT WAS FUNNY.
Title-- Wearing Jeans
Rating-- MA or X or H or, just plainly, ADULTS ONLY! XD
Disclaimer-- I do not own TMNT, and I do not make any money from these writings. (<--That's the official Disclaimer format at AdultFF.Net, don'tcha know ;D!)
Sum-- Turtles don't wear jeans. ...When they're not having sex, anyway. :3
It had become a normal occurrence.
Any old, random afternoon---or practically any time of day, really---no matter what activity was being interrupted, be it training, watching TV, bugging Leo, picking on Mikey, taking a shower, walking across the hall (today's disturbed event)...the next thing he'd know, he'd be blinking away the darkness from his vision as he recovered consciousness, realizing that Donny was in the mood.
This time, his intellectual brother had chosen to drug him. To be specific, drug something he'd been drinking (because there had been that one time with the dart...). When Raph thought back, he could recall turning away from a protein drink for only a moment before turning back around and taking blank notice of Don's sudden appearance in the room. The latter didn't say anything to him, of course, not making himself suspicious, just continuing to chat with Mikey. And so, Raph drank. And this was Raph coming to with his back to the floor in what he recognized as Donatello's room, hands bound together over his head to one of the bed legs.
It actually wasn't too uncomfortable, and Raph wondered if he should find something wrong with not being bothered by the fact that there was no way to get loose, or how he was now pretty okay with the idea. Or by the fact that this wasn't the first time. Don seemed to like binding him down.
What truly perplexed him, though, was the fact that he was wearing jeans...and only jeans. Blue, faded, denim jeans. A rip in the knee included. They were slightly baggy and hung down over the heels of his feet, and---thanks to his shell---clung to him in an odd shape, but they still managed to fit with the button buttoned and the zipper zipped.
"Oh, you're up."
Raph blinked towards the source of the voice to see Don standing at the threshold. He was also wearing jeans, but his were more fitted and colored a thicker blue; they were more Donny's style...if they ever had their own styles.
"Pretty much," Raph answered.
The door behind Don clicked shut. "Good. I was wondering when we could start."
Raph snorted as his brother then locked it. "Y'know, Donny, you could just ask if you wanna tie me up. If you got the timing right, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't argue with a good fuck."
"Oh, but where would the fun in that be?" Don lowered himself to his knees, between Raph's legs, easing himself forward and on top as he gripped his brother's thighs. "Plus, it's a bonus reward just to see the looks on Mike's and Leo's faces when I drag you off."
A warm shudder rushed through Raph when he felt Don's tongue at his neck, but he fought the feeling down and feigned nonchalance. Because Donny hated receiving nonchalance, especially from Raph, and especially in bed---or in this case, on floor. "So, you gonna explain the pants?" His voice was gruff at first, then came out better as he resumed talking, clinging to the distraction. "Cuz if we start off naked, I really don't see the point."
"These pants?" Don's hand gripped at his brother's crotch, and a not-quite-a-whimper sounded from the otherwise red-clad turtle. "Just another thing I've noticed most humans to be unappreciative of."
The hand twisted and kneaded, coaxing the smallest of noises from Raph's throat. Ever since Don found out that Raph got rather loud during sex, it seemed to have become his personal goal to make Raph make noises constantly while they were in the act. But Raphael, by now, was sick of being played like an instrument in his brother's skilled, so fucking skilled fingers; he tried to take his mind off of Don's hand, and what Don's hand was doing, and what Don's hand was doing to him...and turned away, spotting his and his brother's usual gear---masks, knee pads, bo staff---and Raph focused on them, grinding into the hard ground below him in a futile escape from Don's groping---sais, belts....
"They get so eager to take their pants off, that they forget how much fun pants could be if kept on," Donny was saying, as if he wasn't groping his older brother's privates. He was lowering himself down for some reason; he pressed his open mouth so that the shape of Raph's cock rested side-ways along his teeth...and sent warm saliva oozing down through the fabric and hitting the feverish flesh waiting underneath.
That was when Raph felt all his resolve break, replaced by desperateness as he moaned Donatello's name.
"It's an unfair generalization, I know, but well...." Don shrugged. "Stereotypes aren't stereotypes for nothing."
"Ungh, Donny...need---to feel---" Raph broke off into a strangled yell as Don's hand gripped tight at the denim, and the rubbing became quicker than before.
"Hm. I think you can feel just fine."
Donatello bent down again, pressing his mouth to the swollen member, and released another glob of hot spit dripping onto it. Raph yawped, shoving against the pressure and the heat, and kicked at the floor, crying out as Don tongued him through the damnably thick fabric. The hand replaced the mouth once more, resuming the fingering, the massaging, the pressing....
Raph gave out a strained yelp, legs springing out---he felt his foot slam into something---probably one of Don's gizmo-things---but he couldn't bring himself to care.
The whole time, Don watched him squirm, giving no regard to whatever had been kicked aside (if it hadn't been put away far enough, chances were it wasn't too important), just watching Raph react to how he shaped his hands and the different speeds of caress he gave the area. His fingers curled under and gave Raph's cock a tight squeeze through the jeans; he began pushing and pulling at it---
Raph threw his head back, bumping it into the bed behind him, yelling as the pleasure built into heat built into sweat and pressure, all held in by the denim, squirting out against it, wrapping back hotly around his cock, until everything became a blur...except for that dead-calm smile on Donatello's face.
...It was quiet in the room, except for Raph's light panting speckling the air as coherency swam back to him. A stray string of cum had shot from the jeans, forming a slight curved line on his upper torso, and his dick felt itchy from being chafed by the rough fabric.
Don was lowering his beak to Raph's crotch, and the latter thought he was going to lick it, as Donny usually did after making Raph come with his hands or mouth. Instead, he felt the zipper being pulled down; Don was using his teeth. Raphael shivered. After having the jeans on for a while, it suddenly felt chilly to have air freely stroke across his genitals. He gasped sharply as Don breathed warmly on them. And then, Donatello was sticking his hand into the opening, without undoing the button as well.
Before Raph could question the other turtle's motive, Don was kissing him again. Making his way up Raph's plastron, raking his teeth against the creases between scutes, stopping briefly at the line of cum for a lick.... And during all that, his hand never stopped working; it remained at his brother's groin, petting and stroking life and blood back into the organ there, and making Raphael's toes and stomach curl.
When Don's tongue had finally made it to a certain pair of lips, Raph was moaning weakly into everything. There was "Donnyyyy" before he kissed him, and "Fuck" before he kissed him again.
Don's hand left its previous station, moving deeper into the jeans, brushing down the bare skin between Raph's cock and his---
Raph gasped against Don's mouth, feeling it twist into another one of those smiles.
And Don's finger, slicked with Raph's seed, slid easily into him. Raph tried not to mewl. Tried. Then, the finger began pushing against that one P-spot inside and he fell apart, cursing and gasping and bucking. Here was the great resident badass of the family, belly-up and yowling, all because of what Don was doing. And it was probably that thought that made it all the more of a rush.
When the finger pulled out, Raph's cock was beginning to stand again, lifting from the gap where the zipper used to trap it. Don was heaving up Raphael's legs, and unzipping his own pants, letting the once-hidden erection that was stuffed there fall out. He tugged at his Raph's jeans, but didn't remove them, just slipped them off enough so that Raph's hole was revealed.
There was moment where Raph inhaled sharply, feeling Don's tip poke inside. After that, he was groaning as his brother sank deep into him, Donatello releasing a strained breath in his ear.
With his legs together---thrown over Don's left shoulder---he felt tighter, and Donny felt so much more huge inside of him....
Donny was thrusting into him, now---into that one throbbing spot, tipping him back on his carapace and angling his cock to hit the fuck-button straight on. And Don's breathing had increased as well, in both speed and pitch, and the effect it had on Raph was dizzying. Because Don, out of the four of them, was the quietest during sex. So any audible noise that escaped him always drove Raph into a higher frenzy.
And already, there was heat and sweat once again building up on his legs, once again trapped by the denim, with the zipper teeth gnawing against his shaft like brushes of static against the sensitive flesh.... Don grabbed the cock and a shrill noise burst from Raph's throat, the sound breaking and building as Don proceeded to jack him off.
The younger brother's movements had become more vigorous; the sounds escaping him came lower and quicker, simultaneous with the jolts firing through Raph's body as his prostate was hit over and over making the latter shout, push out and up, back onto Don, hands twisting themselves more and more into the tangles of his restraints, his whole body burning hot, going stiff, his chest aching with harsh cries, and finally---Don's strained whisper against his ear: "Raph."
He was yelling loudly as white spilled over both their plastrons, heart still hammering as he felt Don shoot hot inside of him....
...Later, Don had trouble undoing Raph's bindings; he'd made the knots extra tight and complicated to ensure that his captive wouldn't be able to yank himself free. (It had happened before.)
The older turtle waited, grumbled, and began to kick off his soiled jeans.
"You 'n' your fuckin' kinks."
Rating-- MA or X or H or, just plainly, ADULTS ONLY! XD
Disclaimer-- I do not own TMNT, and I do not make any money from these writings. (<--That's the official Disclaimer format at AdultFF.Net, don'tcha know ;D!)
Sum-- Turtles don't wear jeans. ...When they're not having sex, anyway. :3
It had become a normal occurrence.
Any old, random afternoon---or practically any time of day, really---no matter what activity was being interrupted, be it training, watching TV, bugging Leo, picking on Mikey, taking a shower, walking across the hall (today's disturbed event)...the next thing he'd know, he'd be blinking away the darkness from his vision as he recovered consciousness, realizing that Donny was in the mood.
This time, his intellectual brother had chosen to drug him. To be specific, drug something he'd been drinking (because there had been that one time with the dart...). When Raph thought back, he could recall turning away from a protein drink for only a moment before turning back around and taking blank notice of Don's sudden appearance in the room. The latter didn't say anything to him, of course, not making himself suspicious, just continuing to chat with Mikey. And so, Raph drank. And this was Raph coming to with his back to the floor in what he recognized as Donatello's room, hands bound together over his head to one of the bed legs.
It actually wasn't too uncomfortable, and Raph wondered if he should find something wrong with not being bothered by the fact that there was no way to get loose, or how he was now pretty okay with the idea. Or by the fact that this wasn't the first time. Don seemed to like binding him down.
What truly perplexed him, though, was the fact that he was wearing jeans...and only jeans. Blue, faded, denim jeans. A rip in the knee included. They were slightly baggy and hung down over the heels of his feet, and---thanks to his shell---clung to him in an odd shape, but they still managed to fit with the button buttoned and the zipper zipped.
"Oh, you're up."
Raph blinked towards the source of the voice to see Don standing at the threshold. He was also wearing jeans, but his were more fitted and colored a thicker blue; they were more Donny's style...if they ever had their own styles.
"Pretty much," Raph answered.
The door behind Don clicked shut. "Good. I was wondering when we could start."
Raph snorted as his brother then locked it. "Y'know, Donny, you could just ask if you wanna tie me up. If you got the timing right, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't argue with a good fuck."
"Oh, but where would the fun in that be?" Don lowered himself to his knees, between Raph's legs, easing himself forward and on top as he gripped his brother's thighs. "Plus, it's a bonus reward just to see the looks on Mike's and Leo's faces when I drag you off."
A warm shudder rushed through Raph when he felt Don's tongue at his neck, but he fought the feeling down and feigned nonchalance. Because Donny hated receiving nonchalance, especially from Raph, and especially in bed---or in this case, on floor. "So, you gonna explain the pants?" His voice was gruff at first, then came out better as he resumed talking, clinging to the distraction. "Cuz if we start off naked, I really don't see the point."
"These pants?" Don's hand gripped at his brother's crotch, and a not-quite-a-whimper sounded from the otherwise red-clad turtle. "Just another thing I've noticed most humans to be unappreciative of."
The hand twisted and kneaded, coaxing the smallest of noises from Raph's throat. Ever since Don found out that Raph got rather loud during sex, it seemed to have become his personal goal to make Raph make noises constantly while they were in the act. But Raphael, by now, was sick of being played like an instrument in his brother's skilled, so fucking skilled fingers; he tried to take his mind off of Don's hand, and what Don's hand was doing, and what Don's hand was doing to him...and turned away, spotting his and his brother's usual gear---masks, knee pads, bo staff---and Raph focused on them, grinding into the hard ground below him in a futile escape from Don's groping---sais, belts....
"They get so eager to take their pants off, that they forget how much fun pants could be if kept on," Donny was saying, as if he wasn't groping his older brother's privates. He was lowering himself down for some reason; he pressed his open mouth so that the shape of Raph's cock rested side-ways along his teeth...and sent warm saliva oozing down through the fabric and hitting the feverish flesh waiting underneath.
That was when Raph felt all his resolve break, replaced by desperateness as he moaned Donatello's name.
"It's an unfair generalization, I know, but well...." Don shrugged. "Stereotypes aren't stereotypes for nothing."
"Ungh, Donny...need---to feel---" Raph broke off into a strangled yell as Don's hand gripped tight at the denim, and the rubbing became quicker than before.
"Hm. I think you can feel just fine."
Donatello bent down again, pressing his mouth to the swollen member, and released another glob of hot spit dripping onto it. Raph yawped, shoving against the pressure and the heat, and kicked at the floor, crying out as Don tongued him through the damnably thick fabric. The hand replaced the mouth once more, resuming the fingering, the massaging, the pressing....
Raph gave out a strained yelp, legs springing out---he felt his foot slam into something---probably one of Don's gizmo-things---but he couldn't bring himself to care.
The whole time, Don watched him squirm, giving no regard to whatever had been kicked aside (if it hadn't been put away far enough, chances were it wasn't too important), just watching Raph react to how he shaped his hands and the different speeds of caress he gave the area. His fingers curled under and gave Raph's cock a tight squeeze through the jeans; he began pushing and pulling at it---
Raph threw his head back, bumping it into the bed behind him, yelling as the pleasure built into heat built into sweat and pressure, all held in by the denim, squirting out against it, wrapping back hotly around his cock, until everything became a blur...except for that dead-calm smile on Donatello's face.
...It was quiet in the room, except for Raph's light panting speckling the air as coherency swam back to him. A stray string of cum had shot from the jeans, forming a slight curved line on his upper torso, and his dick felt itchy from being chafed by the rough fabric.
Don was lowering his beak to Raph's crotch, and the latter thought he was going to lick it, as Donny usually did after making Raph come with his hands or mouth. Instead, he felt the zipper being pulled down; Don was using his teeth. Raphael shivered. After having the jeans on for a while, it suddenly felt chilly to have air freely stroke across his genitals. He gasped sharply as Don breathed warmly on them. And then, Donatello was sticking his hand into the opening, without undoing the button as well.
Before Raph could question the other turtle's motive, Don was kissing him again. Making his way up Raph's plastron, raking his teeth against the creases between scutes, stopping briefly at the line of cum for a lick.... And during all that, his hand never stopped working; it remained at his brother's groin, petting and stroking life and blood back into the organ there, and making Raphael's toes and stomach curl.
When Don's tongue had finally made it to a certain pair of lips, Raph was moaning weakly into everything. There was "Donnyyyy" before he kissed him, and "Fuck" before he kissed him again.
Don's hand left its previous station, moving deeper into the jeans, brushing down the bare skin between Raph's cock and his---
Raph gasped against Don's mouth, feeling it twist into another one of those smiles.
And Don's finger, slicked with Raph's seed, slid easily into him. Raph tried not to mewl. Tried. Then, the finger began pushing against that one P-spot inside and he fell apart, cursing and gasping and bucking. Here was the great resident badass of the family, belly-up and yowling, all because of what Don was doing. And it was probably that thought that made it all the more of a rush.
When the finger pulled out, Raph's cock was beginning to stand again, lifting from the gap where the zipper used to trap it. Don was heaving up Raphael's legs, and unzipping his own pants, letting the once-hidden erection that was stuffed there fall out. He tugged at his Raph's jeans, but didn't remove them, just slipped them off enough so that Raph's hole was revealed.
There was moment where Raph inhaled sharply, feeling Don's tip poke inside. After that, he was groaning as his brother sank deep into him, Donatello releasing a strained breath in his ear.
With his legs together---thrown over Don's left shoulder---he felt tighter, and Donny felt so much more huge inside of him....
Donny was thrusting into him, now---into that one throbbing spot, tipping him back on his carapace and angling his cock to hit the fuck-button straight on. And Don's breathing had increased as well, in both speed and pitch, and the effect it had on Raph was dizzying. Because Don, out of the four of them, was the quietest during sex. So any audible noise that escaped him always drove Raph into a higher frenzy.
And already, there was heat and sweat once again building up on his legs, once again trapped by the denim, with the zipper teeth gnawing against his shaft like brushes of static against the sensitive flesh.... Don grabbed the cock and a shrill noise burst from Raph's throat, the sound breaking and building as Don proceeded to jack him off.
The younger brother's movements had become more vigorous; the sounds escaping him came lower and quicker, simultaneous with the jolts firing through Raph's body as his prostate was hit over and over making the latter shout, push out and up, back onto Don, hands twisting themselves more and more into the tangles of his restraints, his whole body burning hot, going stiff, his chest aching with harsh cries, and finally---Don's strained whisper against his ear: "Raph."
He was yelling loudly as white spilled over both their plastrons, heart still hammering as he felt Don shoot hot inside of him....
...Later, Don had trouble undoing Raph's bindings; he'd made the knots extra tight and complicated to ensure that his captive wouldn't be able to yank himself free. (It had happened before.)
The older turtle waited, grumbled, and began to kick off his soiled jeans.
"You 'n' your fuckin' kinks."