Its been a long time since we read about shane being fucked by both of his boyfriends
Of the three of them, Shane is definitely the most extreme in terms of sexual tastes.
“I want you both to fuck me hard,” he says suddenly one day. “Work together and hold me down and make me just - take it. Please.”
Cliff and Ilya look at Shane. They look at each other. They look back at Shane.
“Like… right now?”
“Maybe. Yes. No. I don’t know! Make it like. Spontaneous. Talk it over. Think on it. But like. Soon? Please?”
Cliff and Ilya think on it. They talk it over. They get a plan together.
Two nights later, when Shane gets in from Montreal and lets himself into the house in Ottawa, he’s ambushed.
Big, strong arms grab him and hold him from behind before he can turn on a light. It’s pitch black in the house, robbing him of sight, but the feel and smell and height oh his “attacker” tells him that it’s Cliff. He opens his mouth to yelp or gasp or ask what the hell is going on, but a big, callused hand is slapped over it first, muffling Shane’s words.
He’s maneuvered through the dark, into the living room, where he’s bent at the waist over the back of the couch. He can feel Cliff’s cock pressing against his ass through his clothes, and fuck, he’s already hard thinking about it.
Then another set of hands is there, grabbing Shane’s hair and wrenching open his jaw when Cliff takes his hand away from Shane’s mouth. Cliff adjusts Shane’s arms behind his back as Ilya starts fucking his mouth, deep and rough and entirely uncaring of Shane’s comfort, and Shane moans through the gagging around Ilya’s cock because yes, yes, this was what I wanted, fuck me like an object, use me, ruin me, make me take it.
Behind him, Cliff works one-handed, fingers slick with lube, starting with two and making Shane take them, the tight fit and the burning stretch around his thick knuckles making Shane’s knees buckle. He squirms and bucks automatically against it, his body fighting the intrusion, but Cliff has always been heavier and stronger than him. He holds him down against the back of the couch and fucks him mercilessly with his fingers and it’s so good, fuck, it hurts but I love it, yes, dont give me a choice, just make me sit here and take it, force me, fuck me, yes.
Ilya maintains a steady, punishing pace in Shane’s mouth, ramming the back of his throat to bruising, bordering on choking him completely. He pauses only when Cliff withdraws his fingers and pushes his long, fat cock inside Shane, who wails around Ilya’s cock. He needs more prep, more time, but also not really because this is perfect, this is so good, push me, break me, own me, yes yes yes yes.
Shane comes before Cliff can even complete a full thrust inside him. Cliff chuckles behind him and smacks him on the ass before pounding hard and fast, matching Ilya’s pace, and soon after Shane’s throat is flooded with Ilya’s release, his face held flush to Ilya’s pelvis, eyes watering, ears ringing, barely able to breathe. Cliff follows a few minutes later, fingers digging painfully deep into Shane’s wrists and hip, and then it’s over, all three of them breathing heavily into the darkness, no one brave enough yet to move and break the spell.
Finally, Ilya’s nerves win out and he turns on a lamp. “Shane?” he asks, cupping Shane’s face. “Was that okay? Are you good?”
Shane’s throat is utterly fucked. He gives Ilya a blissed out smile and a thumbs-up now that Cliff has released his wrists. Never better, baby.
