handleyourshit | TLV Inbox

"Well, now. That's not my intention at all," Astarion chuckles, but he's as good as his word, in this instance: he licks a slow, flat stripe right up between her thighs, tasting her wetness from the source.

His lips close around her clitoris and he puts himself to the task of working his tongue tirelessly over it, circling the little bud over and over, applying the barest bit of suction. He's not as experienced with women, but he's still had entire human lifetimes to work this all out.

"I ain't going anywhere," he assures her. "All I want is right fucking here."

Astarion makes a beautiful sight there between her legs, after all. It's a sight Jacob intends on enjoying.

His brings his lips to hers, letting his hands take over teasing and tracing along her breasts, to her stomach, anything to bring back that quiet moan.

There is plenty of slick there to give evidence of how interested she is in being exactly where she is, in them doing exactly what they're doing; she shudders and lets her fingers nearly fist in the ends of his hair, but does not push or pull him. God knows he's doing just fine on his own.

The kiss with Jacob swallows down exactly the sounds he was trying to illicit, and she pants into the crook of his neck when they break, ragged.

"Keep going like that and I won't make it to being fucked," she half praises, half warns because: "And I really want to at least one of you to fuck me."

"You don't think you can come twice?" Astarion wonders, pulling away just far enough to be heard before getting back to it. He slides his parted lips down from her clit to her cunt, his tongue sliding shallowly inside her. He likes the sensation of her hands in his hair, likes feeling the tension in her fingers as he pleases her.

"I don't think you gotta worry about not being fucked," Jacob adds. His jeans are tight, his whole body aching for more than desperate kisses and touches. He's patient, though. They have time. So much time.

He sits up, surveying the scene there, his hand joining hers in Astarion's hair.

"I can," she answers. She will, she knows. "I just want you - mm -"

She lets it stand when Astarion starts doing that: she wants them. Her nails crook into Jacob's skin as he moves, and her hips cant up for Astarion, wanting instinctively to ride that feeling and giving him a better angle, better access.

"Oh god, yes."

Astarion hums his satisfaction and smiles. He continues to fuck her with his tongue in a random pattern of deep and shallow presses, sometimes doing barely more than lapping over her entrance and sometimes pushing in like he wants to lose himself completely. One hand splays over the crease of her hip, thumb lightly pressing over her clit so that the rocking of her hips will give her that little more friction.

His own hips move, a little restless, against the bed; he's still dressed from the waist down and his erection is an almost painful pressure under his leathers.

She wants him close so he stays close, but he hurriedly unbuttons his jeans, trying to give himself some sort of relief.

But once his jeans are looser, he puts his mouth and tongue back on her, sucking a red spot along her shoulder.

She still trends towards staying quieter, but there's no shortage of encouragement and encouraging feedback for all of that: she relaxes enough that the way her hips roll to follow the pressure becomes reflexive instead of cautious, and she's plenty reactive. She moans shamelessly, the pitch shifting higher and into hissed oh gods and yesyesyes when he's able to press deeper or when she catches her clit just right on his hand, deeper and throatier when his mouth on her is a pleasant, electrifying build.

She can't reach much of Astarion like this, but the moment she realizes what Jacob has done and he's back against her she licks a broad, messy stripe down her palm and reaches for him to help. She's distracted at best, though, because despite how hungry she is for more, for actual penetration - and she is, make no mistake - Astarion is good at this and the way she's rocking against him is very close to crossing the line into bucking when she gasps, "Astarion -" to warn him how close she is, how very short the distance to the edge is for her.

It feels - good, uniquely good, to give and take pleasure entirely and only because he wants to. Maybe it always will - maybe servitude has ingrained in him forever that the simple matter of enthusiastic consent will feel like a pleasant novelty. But this is more than that. It's because it's Rosita and Jacob that he's here with, and that he...cares, about them.

And right now, he cares very much about making good on the threat of a precipice in Rosita's voice. His hand and mouth switch places, two fingers pressing deftly into her and curling inward as he sucks and licks hungrily at her clit.

He hadn't intended on that, but he certainly isn't going to push her away. He groans against her skin at the touch, simultaneously encouraging her with a kiss or a touch.

"Come on, Ro," he whispers in her ear, voice low and desperate. "Come on, you're so fucking good..." Nonsense words, just words, just sounds, as he tries not to rock against her hand.

That gets a gasp from her, and she kips up partially to an elbow on sheer reaction before she drops back down again, one leg hooking across Astarion's back on autopilot. She hasn't had this kind of focus on her in enough time that she'll think later that she might have come from that alone: lavished attention, and a nickname in her ear while she forgets what she's even doing with her hands.

She doesn't stand a chance - "Oh, God -!" - and she lets go of Jacob only to pull them together so she can bury the desperate keen of pleasure into the crook of his neck as she fucks herself on Astarion's fingers and tongue, lets him fuck her in turn through her orgasm.

Astarion moans, a completely instinctive sound, and he thrusts down against the mattress for the small relief of the friction it brings. Even then he's not stopping, fucking her relentlessly through her climax, stopping only when he suspects that going further might be uncomfortable.

Even when he does stop, he moves very little, kissing at her inner thighs and feeling her muscles tremble under his hands.

He curls an arm around her, holding her through the rush of it. "Fucking hell," he mutters, his fingers curling into her back. He'll hold her as long as she wants, biting back a groan of his own. The warm weight of her against him, his own skin just as flushed, just ignites him more.

And tremble they do even as the blinding pleasure peaks and troughs; her breathing comes shallow and fast and her body jumps with little aftersparks, and she's just about to ask him to stop when he does it on his own.

Of course he does. She kisses Jacob's skin in front of her mouth, his shoulder, his chest, his neck, before dropping her head back.

"That was a good fucking start," she pants, reaching down to pull Astarion up to where she can reach him, where she can kiss him while she soaks in her own afterglow even as she knows the two men are still ramping up.

Astarion smiles and crawls up her body, kissing Rosita's mouth with her wetness lingering on his lips and tongue. He reaches down with one hand to fumble open the lace holding his trousers closed, eager for a little relief. His other hand reaches out blindly to touch Jacob's arm and side, sliding over whatever skin he can reach.

Her mouth on him is the sweetest torture, at least until she pulls away. They kiss and Jacob immediately buries his face along the elf's shoulders and neck, glad for the opportunity to be close. His blood runs hot and every touch just builds him up, and small kisses turn to bites, to groans.

"Come here," he mutters to him, eager for his chance to taste her on his tongue.

Rosita is eager to meet him, lips parted slightly in the kiss to deepen it, unhesitating. She's quick to help him, too, although she admittedly has limited experience with pants that lace closed.

She's a quick study, and she smooths her palm down his stomach and thigh, helping push at his clothes the way he did so politely for her.

"That's right," she purrs, nails light along Jacob's ribs. "You were both so patient, you deserve some fun."

"You're mad if you think I'm not having an immense amount of fun already," Astarion purrs, then kisses Jacob. It's open mouthed, filthy, partly to put on a show and partly to make it easier for him to share what lingers of Rosita on his tongue.

He grunts an agreement, but it's all he can do before he's moaning into that kiss, his fingers in his hair.

With as much coordination as he can muster, he pushes his jeans down below his hips, breaking the kiss long enough to let them fall into a puddle on the floor. Then he's back with them, back to the kiss, his hand trailing down to stroke along Astarion's cock. "You've been working so fucking hard. Let us treat you, huh."

It makes her laugh, and that feels good, too, honestly.

She's still a little jelly jointed but Jacob has a good plan there so she twists over on her side, pushes herself up put of the way so they can both reach Astarion better, tracing a hand each up and back down the line of their spines, kissing Jacob's shoulder, Astarion's chest, back again lazily but attentive.

Astarion drifts into the tangle of it, his hands moving constantly, lips drifting over skin and palms sliding everywhere they can reach. His touch seems lazy and random but it's calculated, seeking out sensitive spots and thin skin where he'll get the most response. Give the most pleasure.

He can't help that he's drifting into a slightly other place, one where his body go into a well-established autopilot while his mind detaches. "If you don't think I'm being thoroughly indulged already," he murmurs. "I think Rosita made some lovely suggestions earlier, mm?"

With Jacob in the middle, both taking and taken at once.

He shudders at the thought of it, of being between the two of them, of having any attention on him. But they're different, they're safe, and the shudder is one of pleasure and anticipation, not anxiety.

"Yeah," he mutters. "Yeah, that sounds really fucking good."

He pulls back from Astarion just enough to capture Rosita's mouth in a bruising, needy kiss.

She's there, she's right there, and she leaves herself wide open to wherever Astarion wants to put his hands, takes several of the same liberties herself; when Jacob kisses her she meets him in kind, pressing her lips together when they break apart to feel the way it stings.

She flashes a quick smirk, and peels herself away long enough to stretch over and reach her pack; she may not have a strap-on hidden away anywhere, but she does come back with a tube of lube that she did have the forethought to keep near.

"Here," she offers even she slides her knee in between Jacob's, rubbing up and down along his thigh to ground them both here in this present where they are, indeed, safe.

"You are exceptionally well prepared," Astarion murmurs, lips quirking upwards in delight as he accepts the tube. He finally does away with the rest of his clothes, shifting closer to Jacob to gently manhandle him between their bodies, kissing at his shoulders and nape.

"Would you like Rosita to help me?" he whispers in his ear, loud enough to carry to her. "Do you want to feel how you'll open up for her?"

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