Anything Goes

“You want to WHAT?” Ichigo gaped at his two lovers. He knew his mouth was wide open and he must look like an idiot but he didn’t care. They never ceased to amaze him with how perverted they could be.

“We want to film you and Isshin having sex.” Urahara repeated with an air of infinite patience. “It’ll give him something to watch while he’s on his trip.”

Ichigo looked back and forth between his father and Urahara trying to think of a reason to refuse that didn’t make him sound like a pussy. He couldn’t think of a good one so he just said the first thing that came to him.

“Well, then why don’t we film you two going at it and he can watch that.” Yeah, that didn’t make him sound like a coward. Dammit.

Urahara sighed and shook his head. “No, no. That would never do. We need to capture the essence of this little ‘arrangement’.”

Isshin nodded his head solemnly before breaking out a shit-eating grin. “Come on Ichigo, it’ll be fun.” He wriggled his eyebrows and leered seductively; when that didn’t work he threw in a pout for good measure.

Ichigo groaned and scrubbed a hand through his hair. There was no point in fighting it, once they got an idea in their heads there was no stopping them. Hell, that’s how this whole ‘arrangement’, as Urahara had put it, got started. He looked at his father’s eagerly waiting face and admitted defeat. “Fine.”

***************

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected really but somehow this wasn’t it. Ichigo stood at the foot of the bed waiting for the two men to get ready. Isshin was humming tunelessly as he found the lube and tossed it onto a pillow. He also got out the camera stand, setting it up beside the bed for ‘later’, whatever that meant.

“So you aren’t going to join us?” Ichigo looked over at Urahara on the opposite side of the room.

“No, I just want to watch this time.” He smiled a secretive little smile that made Ichigo feel like he was missing something. “Besides someone needs to work the camera.” Ichigo nodded. Of course, the camera. How could he forget?

Ichigo fidgeted nervously as he watched Urahara finish getting ready. He was seriously starting to rethink this whole idea. It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had just sat and watched the other two fuck but he’d never been filmed before. What if he screwed it up somehow or looked like an idiot on the tape? They’d tease him for sure and then…

Ichigo was distracted from his thoughts when he felt his father come up behind him. He turned to face him as Isshin wrapped his arms around the boy. Brushing Ichigo’s ear with his lips he spoke softly, the sound of a smile creeping into his voice.

“Don’t worry Ichigo; everything’s going to go fine. Daddy’s here.” Ichigo jerked his head away from Isshin. Seeing the idiot grinning, he punched him in the gut, trying to get away at the same time. The man was so fucking perverted! He heard Urahara laughing from across the room. Shooting him a fierce glare that just made him laugh harder, the boy swore that once he got free from his father he’d go over there and punch him too. He nearly succeeded but Isshin caught his arm, pulling him close before he could get far. Chuckling Isshin tightened his grip and turned serious.

“The most important thing is to stay relaxed and enjoy your self. Just pretend the camera’s not even there.” Isshin ran his hands up and down Ichigo’s back and sides in a soothing manner until the boy stopped struggling to get away. “Oh and remember, the whole point of this is to catch everything so no hiding. I want you to really let your self go.” He glanced over at Urahara.

“Kisuke?” Urahara gave them the thumbs up from across the room. Isshin turned back to his son, “Okay, you ready?”

Ichigo swallowed thickly and nodded his head. Taking a steadying breath he tilted his head up for his father’s kiss. Isshin continued rubbing his back and sides as he licked his way into Ichigo’s mouth. Some of the tension drained away as their tongues tangled together. By the time Isshin pulled him flush against his body Ichigo had melted into it. He moaned softly as their crotches rubbed together, sparks of pleasure flying along his nerves. Ichigo fisted one hand in his father’s hair, deepening the kiss further while grabbing the man’s ass with the other. He rolled his hips as they broke apart for air making them both groan.

Isshin slid his hands under Ichigo’s shirt slowly pulling it up over the boy’s head. Once it was off he removed his own shirt and jerked Ichigo back against him kissing him hungrily. Ichigo moaned as his nipples brushed Isshin’s chest, the sensitive nubs hardening instantly. He didn’t realize they had moved until he was falling backwards onto the bed with Isshin following after.

Isshin kissed his way down Ichigo’s neck stopping to dip his tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat. His father nipped along his collarbone pausing to suck a red mark or two. Ichigo spread his legs as Isshin ran his fingertips up his inner thighs to tease his balls. His father rolled the heavy sac in his palm giving it a light squeeze, making Ichigo arch off the bed with a deep groan. He moaned as Isshin continued traveling down his torso licking and biting everywhere he could.

The first lick to the head of his cock made Ichigo buck up hard, desperate for more contact. He shuddered as his father took his dick in his mouth. Isshin spent a long time just sucking on the tip, swirling his tongue around the crown. Placing an arm across Ichigo’s stomach he worked his way further down the length. Unable to move with Isshin holding him still Ichigo buried a hand in his father’s hair attempting to make him move faster, suck harder. Instead of doing either the man pulled off completely. Ichigo whimpered at the loss his thighs shaking slightly with tension. Isshin tugged on his leg trying to turn the boy onto his stomach.

Ichigo rolled up onto all fours. He spread his legs to give Isshin easy access to his ass then let his head drop down to rest on his folded arms. He felt exposed as he waited for the man to slick his fingers, his ass up in the air for everyone to see. It seemed like an eternity had passed before he felt the bed shift and one wet finger touch his hole. It circled a few times before pressing in slowly. A couple quick twists and plunges and a second was joining it. Ichigo rocked back against them eagerly, more than ready to get the show on the road.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one because soon enough Isshin was slicking his cock and sliding into Ichigo. He paused half way in, running his hands up and down his son’s back trying to get the boy to relax enough for him to thrust in that last bit. Ichigo took a shuddering breath and that was it, Isshin sunk in deep, stilling once his balls were pressed against his son’s. He allowed the boy a moment to adjust before sliding out to the tip and slamming back in. He kept up a steady rhythm, holding onto Ichigo’s hips with both hands, pulling the boy back hard with each stroke.

Moans from the left side of the bed caught Ichigo’s attention. He lifted his head to see what was going on. Urahara had moved to stand next to the headboard and was watching them with obvious lust. The man had removed his shirt at some point and was pinching his nipples, a dark flush working its way down his neck to spread across his chest. Ichigo bit his lip as Urahara ran a hand down his stomach to squeeze and stroke himself through his pants.

It was a few hot minutes before Ichigo remembered the camera, the sight of Urahara flushed and panting proving very distracting but once he did Ichigo ducked his head and covered his face with his hand, trying to hide from the damn thing. His father slowed down and leaned over him. He grabbed Ichigo’s wrist and twisted his arm around to his back.

“What did I tell you before we started?” He bit Ichigo’s ear hard, licking the spot a second later. “No hiding.”

Isshin kneeled up pulling Ichigo up after him. He pinned the boy’s other arm behind his back as well, gripping both in one big hand. Placing the other on Ichigo’s hip he started up a brutal rhythm. Ichigo grunted on each up thrust, his cock slapping against his belly, his balls against his thighs. Sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eyes making them sting. He let his head fall back onto his father’s shoulder with a groan. Twisting his head around he tried to locate Urahara.

He found him over on the right side of the bed. He’d placed the camera on its stand and was sitting in a chair, pants pooled around his ankles, his fist flying up and down his cock. Ichigo moaned at the sight his cock twitching, spilling pre-come down the length. Urahara scooted further down the chair kicking his pants off in the process. He locked eyes with Ichigo as he sucked two fingers into his mouth. When he had them good and wet he removed them with a lewd pop. Lifting his balls out of the way he circled his hole once before plunging in. He worked his fingers in and out with long ragged strokes, no doubt hitting his prostate every time. Ichigo shuddered as a dark flush worked its way down Urahara’s neck to spread across his chest. He could see his nipples harden as Urahara swiped a thumb over the head of his cock. The man eventually broke eye contact, his head falling forward slightly as he panted harder, louder.

Ichigo continued watching Urahara for awhile, trying to distract himself from what his father was doing. He wanted to last longer, but the pressure was building too fast now, curling low and tight in his balls begging to be released. His eyes rolled back in his head as his father adjusted his position; now nailing Ichigo’s prostrate on every stroke. Ichigo was panting so hard he could barely breathe, his breath coming in quick and shallow. He was starting to feel light headed right as his orgasm hit, burning through his veins scorching white hot in his mind.

He must have blacked out briefly because when he came to he was on his side facing Urahara and the camera yet couldn’t remember moving. Ichigo braced his hands against the headboard, his right leg hooked over Isshin’s shoulder, his left held tight against the mattress. His cock was nestled on his hip, his balls pinched slightly between his father’s thigh and his own. He couldn’t believe the man was still going, he hoped he’d finish soon because he was starting to feel raw and worn out. He wondered what he could do to push the man over the edge; unfortunately his brain was no longer functioning properly so nothing came to him.

He settled for reaching up to roll and pull at his father’s nipples. Scratching his nails across Isshin’s chest, Ichigo ran his hand down the man’s side to grab his ass. He gave it a squeeze, silently encouraging him to go faster, harder. He moaned as Isshin’s strokes became ragged, the man’s thighs trembling slightly. Finally, Isshin tensed, snapping his hips forward one last time with a groan. He stayed like that for a few long moments, his hips still making small jerking movements as he sucked in air. Eventually he relaxed, collapsing forward with a sigh. He carefully pulled out of Ichigo before flopping down beside the boy. He threw an arm across Ichigo’s chest and promptly fell asleep. Closing his eyes Ichigo stretched out the kinks in his muscles, enjoying the loose limbed sated feeling that comes after really good sex.

Ichigo waved Urahara over to the bed, just giving a quick flip of his hand before letting it fall back to the mattress too exhausted to do more. He watched through half open eyes as Urahara turned off the camera and crawled into bed, nestling himself against Ichigo’s side.

There was a few minutes of shuffling around, trying to get comfortable, and then all was quiet. As Ichigo laid there listening to their breathing even out and deepen with sleep he decided that he didn’t care how the tape turned out, good or bad, he definitely wanted a copy.