The front door clicked softly behind him, and Rio exhaled. It was that long, heavy kind of sigh that came from a day full of nonsense. Beth and her crew had tried his patience, and though he’d handled it, all he could think about was coming home.
The sound of tiny feet pattering across the hardwood greeted him first, followed by your tired voice trying — and failing — to redirect your daughter’s endless energy. He rounded the corner and saw you there: hair a little messy, shoulders tense, eyes full of exhaustion and love. Your baby girl, Marianna, giggled, darting past you in her footy pajamas like she owned the place.
Rio couldn’t help but grin. “Hey, mama,” he rasped, shrugging off his coat.
You barely glanced up, frazzled. “Hey… sorry, she’s been on one tonight.”
He chuckled, crouching to scoop up a few stray toys. “Yeah? Let me see what I can do about that.”
With just a few minutes, he had Ms. Rachel playing softly on the TV and the toddler settled on the floor, mesmerized by colors and songs. Then his attention shifted to you — the woman holding this home together while he’d been out running the world.
He walked over, palms warm and steady as they slid around your waist. “Long day, mama?” he murmured against your temple.
You nodded, your breath catching a little when his lips brushed your forehead.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here now. I got you.”
You sank back into him, the scent of him grounding you. The tension in your shoulders eased as he guided you toward the sofa. His phones sat face down on the side table, already on DND. Tonight, it was just you two and your little whirlwind of a daughter.
Rio pulled you into his lap, wrapping you up like something precious. He kissed your cheeks, your nose, your jaw — soft, patient reminders that you were doing your best.
“You’re doin’ a great job, mama,” he whispered between kisses. “Don’t beat yourself up. Look at her. She’s happy, she’s healthy. Our mischievous princess just knows how to run circles around you, that’s all.”
You hum, the sound trailing off as your lashes fluttered. Before long, your breathing evened out. He glanced down, realizing you’d fallen asleep against him, lips parted slightly.
Your toddler turned from the TV, noticing the quiet. Her eyes met his, and she flashed that mischievous grin. Rio chuckled low. “Yeah, baby girl, mommy’s out cold. You wore her out.”
She giggled, toddling over, and with his help, climbed onto the couch beside you. Rio tucked her under his arm, her pacifier already in place. Within minutes, she was asleep too. His two favorite girls bundled close, and the house still.
He pressed a kiss to each of your heads. “My girls,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
A while later, he woke you gently. Together, you settled your little one into her bed, tucking her in, and shared that quiet, knowing smile only tired parents have.
He tried to steer you toward your awaited slumber, but you realized hubby hadn’t eaten. You resisted his insistence as your stubborn streak kicked in. You fussed, insisting on heating his dinner, but Rio just gave you that look. The one that left no room for argument.
Rio took over, fixing plates for both of you. The two of you unwind, eating together in the calm that followed chaos, half an episode of Matlock humming in the background. When your yawns started to win out, Rio shut off the TV, stood, and offered his hand.
“Come on, mama,” he rasped softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
The two of you slipped into the shower, the warm water washing away the day. There was laughter, soft touches, kisses that lingered longer than they should. The kind that were urgent for more than just a passionate dance of tongues. Unable to resist you any longer, Rio pushed his exhaustion aside. His lips slid away from your own, trailing down the side of your throat. They lingered, brushing light kisses across your sternum. You exhaled on a sigh that sounded like music to his ears. Your fingers gently cradled the back of his head.
Rio dipped a bit lower, his eyes connecting with yours. The onyx pools sent a rack of shivers over your body as his tongue gently circled your nipple. His other hand busied itself with the other breast, pinching and tweaking at the sensitive bud. Your head lulled against the shower wall as whimpers fell from your lips.
“Rio…,” you whined.
He kissed, licked every inch of skin, as he dipped lower. Your chest heaved, eyes still locked on his. He chuckled at the groan that fell from your lips at the sight of him on his knees. His name was a faint whisper on your lips.
Rio’s tongue laved and sucked, savoring the taste of your soft stretch marks on your stomach. He lingered for a moment worshiping the marks left behind from growing his precious baby girl. His hand lifted one leg up onto his shoulder. He used the opposite shoulder to nudge your thighs further apart.
“Place your other thigh up here, ma. You know I got you.”
Both legs in place, you felt a slight shift as your back slid up the shower wall a bit. Eyes still holding your own in a trance, his hands slid up your thighs. Spread wide, Rio pressed you firm against the wall. He leaned in and inhaled your scent. If the groan that left his lips wasn’t enough to make you squirm. His tongue inching up your thigh surely was. You let out a stuttered gasp. Rio’s teeth sank into the soft supple flesh. He suckled the spot for a second before his lips smacked away from the flesh.
“I know what you want, mama, but you know I gotta hear you say it, love. Tell me, sweetheart. What do you need from me?”
“Rio, please,” you begged, not able to form a complete sentence.”
You were keyed up. All the things you wanted him to do to your body were a jumbled mess of dirty thoughts.
“Baby, please.”
Rio sent a slow torturous lick up your folds. Just as quick as it appeared, his tongue was gone. Your head bumped against the shower wall.
“What I tell you ‘bout closed mouths? You want this pussy ate, mama,” he rasped.
“Off the fuckin’ bone,” you half moaned, half whimpered. “Christopher, please!”
He smirked at your response, “Was that so hard?”
Before you could argue back, his mouth locked in on you, stealing the air from your lungs. He wasted no time bringing you to the edge time and again until he got his fill. When he came up for air, his mouth devoured yours.
As soon as your feet touched the shower floor, you attempted to return the favor. He stepped back, and shook his head.
“Naw, mama. It was about you tonight. Your fine-ass worked hard today, and deserved some stress relief.”
“And so do you,” you moaned, mouth practically salivating for a taste of him.
Your hand wrapped around him. One firm, tight stroke had his head falling back as a curse left his lips, “fuckkk.”
“Your stubborn ass,” he rasped. “I’m trying to cater to you. I know you’re exhausted.”
“Mm—not too tired to suck you dry, papa.”
With that, all Rio’s restraint went out the door. He picked you up, pinning you to the shower wall. In one swift moment, he had you spread, sinking every inch inside. He was so deep, you felt him everywhere.
“Fuckkk,” the two of you said in unison.
It didn’t take you long to reach that beautiful peak. The two of you came hard. It was the type crest that left your body shivering, twitching as words of thanks left your lips. Rio held you up as he peppered your face with kisses.
“You straight, mama, it’s okay,” he whispered, still kissing you gently. “I got you, love. You did so good for me, yeah?” He continued, soothing you with praise you loved to hear. “Love you, mama.”
Rio palmed your ass, continuing his kisses, waiting for your breathing to steady. He smirked at you as your eyes blinked heavily and a yawn escaped your lips.
“See! Now you can barely keep your eyes open with your sleepy ass, he teased.
“Worth it,” you replied sleepily.
“Clearly! The way you was damn near speaking in tongues proved that. You was feenin’ huh, mama,” he teased.
“You’re the best kind of addiction to have.”
Your head tucked into the side of his neck, kissing him softly, “I love you too, papa.”
With a loud smack to your ass, he cleaned your overtired body once more. You two finally crawled into bed, limbs tangled, while the world outside faded. The empire, the chaos, the noise. It had all gone silent and none of it called for your attention. It was just you, him, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. In his embrace, you snuggled deeper. The tension in your body long gone, your eyes fluttered shut, and you gave in to the exhaustion of the day. For the first time all day, everything felt still.
*blissful sigh*
It’s been awhile my lovelies! I truly hope you enjoyed it! If you did be sure to show some love🥰🫶🏾. I missed writing for my wittle lovelies. You would've gotten this sooner but ya girl has been feeling like crap. I'm on day four of a migraine 😩. It wasn't heavily edited but hopefully it was still enjoyable💓. Tagging a few of my precious babies!
He kissed, nipped and bit at your neck, chest and nipples when you rode him, knowing just that was enough to take you sob-moaning over the edge.
The spanking and gripping into handfuls of your ass cheeks as he drilled up into you harder made the sex ruthlessly, unavoidably nastier and louder. Rio liked it that way.
When he was satisfied with how your body responded to his first two areas of focus, Rio brought a hand up to wrap around your thick length of curls and firmly tug your head back.
You felt the pinky of his other hand poke into your asshole tauntingly just as he dully bit into a mouthful of your tit and nipple while keeping up the deep, targeted strokes. Your wail-cry on a particular angling of his contact was what he’d been striving for.
“‘Atta girl,” he growled hot against your chin as you vibrated with complete surrender.
We didn’t need that anchor anyway…right? Wait…does anyone even know how to sail this thing?
OR
It is the morning after you first ventured into water sports… This is the story of the day after you got curious and found out your wives are really, really thirsty for you.
A continuation of this story, which was a continuation of this prompt-fill. This is part of the Cootie-verse, but it can be read as a standalone!
Warnings + Tags: 18+ MDNI, mostly smut, some feel good fluff, Rio g!p, bottom reader, mommy!Agatha, daddy!Rio, cg/l themes, no mention of pronouns except 1-2 'they's, clit/pussy/cunt used for reader, pet names, water sports
Words: ~6.8k
A/N: *steps up to the microphone, but like one of those shitty ones you could get as a kid* Welcome aboard, sailors. Thank you for choosing to sail in the Cootie-verse. Due to the nature of sailing at sea, you will get wet. *points to a big sign on the boat that reads: "THERE IS PEE. PEE PEE PEE. THIS STORY HAS PEE. PEE IN A SEX WAY. SEX PEE." * You have been warned. (I will edit as I find things that need fixing. Pretend the mistakes are little easter eggs.)
AO3 | My Fics | original prompt | part 1
Hello, Sailor! pt. 2
Agatha and Rio can’t quite get their fill of you. You give and give, and still they want more. You have never had so much water in your entire life.
A deliciously euphoric haze swallows the three of you- equal parts filthy and sacred. You’re suspended in catharsis, willingly bound in its hues of exhilaration and reverence.
For every ounce of desire they hold for you, you’re certain you hold ten times more for them. There is no concept of the passing of time or a world existing outside of your home. Your memory can only reference Agatha’s wet pussy lips hugging your chin, watching Rio’s cock twitch deeply in Agatha’s throat, and the soft flesh of both their breasts filling your hands and brushing against your skin.
Even rest comes easily. Naps tuck into the peaceful lulls that find you as you fall from bliss. Your body is oblivious of its efforts, any soreness morphing into a delicious flirtation of what has passed and what is yet to come.
This morning, a puppet of your routine, you sit mindlessly on the toilet. Stillness imbues your ears, your body making up more of you than your mind, until a tender hum joins you from the doorway.
“I find it hard to believe you need to pee.”
Agatha is leaning on the door frame, one of your baggy white t-shirts engulfing her. Though the fabric hangs freely, it’s caught on the peaks of her breasts, drawing your eyes to the buds hidden beneath. You sleepily chuckle.
“Force of habit, I guess.”
Satisfaction numbs your bones, indulgence warmly rekindling as Agatha gorges on the sight of you. Her smile is lazy as her teeth catch her bottom lip. A mix of pride, love, and lust pools in her blue eyes- still slightly glazed from sleep and hours upon hours of loving you and Rio.
You pass knowing giggles between you before she makes her way into the bathroom.
“Scooch,” she commands casually, barely giving you time to understand her order before she gently pushes your shoulders back.
The icy porcelain of the lid makes you hiss, stinging everywhere it bites at your skin. The harsh knock against your still slumbering consciousness can hardly rouse you before your brain goes fuzzy again. Through your static-y stupor you conclude that Agatha is working to straddle you.
She pushes at your knees, nudging them further apart, before her hands purposefully cradle your face. Her fingers- her gorgeous, sexy fingers that have been kissed with freckles and worshipped by time- are as fucking icy as the seat against your back. Your instinctive jerk loses motivation as her nails begin to lightly scratch at the sensitive skin behind your ears where your head meets your neck. As easily and as certainly breathing, you suddenly don’t mind the ten icicles attached to your wife.
Her ministrations blur together as you cradle her cool fingers in your own, hoping to warm them. She lifts your gaze to marry her own and sinks into your lap.
“Wha-“
“Shh, bunny,” Agatha hushes as she softly claims your lips.
Her lips are casually hungry, too lazy to fully swallow you whole, but eager enough to kindle a flame from the still glowing embers deep within your belly.
Her left hand slips from your hold and works itself between your bodies. She playfully pinches your clit, cool fingers jolting your warm, hidden head to life. Your heart beat thrums in your ears, thudding like it’s chasing her hand as it leaves your livening bud. Nimble, knowing fingers graze your pubic hair, her efforts tickling you before she uses them to fully spread her own lips.
You wrap your arms around her as she takes a deep breath, your hands mindlessly snaking up the back of her (your) shirt. One hand stops to support her at the small of her back, the other continues up to knead the flesh between and around her shoulder blades.
You buzz in anticipation, a perfect harmony to the hazy, sleepy blur of early morning that cocoons you both. Through the thick fog that blankets your thoughts, you try your best to memorize the shape of her face, content in bliss, with lips barely pursed and eyes gently closed.
A low hum of satisfaction comes from Agatha’s chest, cradling you in its invitation, before you feel it:
A gentle trickle, a light lazy stream, dances over your, now intensely throbbing, clit.
Agatha’s body rocks backwards and you work to support her weight, taking too long to realize the rock was a result of your hips humping into the air, clambering for more friction. Her resulting giggle should embarrass you, but instead you’re a puddle of confused desperation.
Agatha, your gorgeous, sexy, headstrong, bombshell of a wife is peeing right over your clit. Her hot stream envelopes you right where you need her the most. Is her clit not begging to meet yours, too?
The thought of her slick pussy lips enveloping yours, her cunt raining onto your own, draws a pitiful, needy noise from you.
“Someone’s eager this morning,” Agatha mumbles the low tease through the thickness of her sleep-laced voice.
You pull her hips closer to you, mashing her pussy into yours. Your groan is immediate- the warmth of her trickle spreading all over you causing your eyes to roll back into your head. Her stream pools before it runs down the crevices where your center meets your thighs, down your outer lips, where it eventually flows off your ass.
Her thighs are taut with restraint, control barely taming desire, as her gasp mixes with a low moan to create a sound you let sear into your brain. You’ll be keen to listen to it on repeat until the end of time.
You’ll never get used to this, and you hate that you didn’t entertain the thought of sharing this with your wives sooner.
“Mommy, I need you,” is all you can say before a hungry, greedy tongue seeks refuge against your own.
————
A day full of refilled water glasses and lingering touches has led you to where you are now: trembling against Agatha’s body on your bed.
Agatha had clearly grown impatient. She matter-of-factly wrestled you onto the bed, ready to take her fill, when your playful protests were snuffed out almost immediately. A lone whimper replaced them at the sight before you:
Rio emerging from the bathroom, lazily and mindlessly squeezing her soft cock over her briefs.
Your whimper catches her attention, not expecting to see you and Agatha wrestling on the bed, and she seems delighted at the sight.
She is glowing from her night well spent, her limbs loose from the freedom of deliciously filthy sex. Her eyes are a bit puffy underneath, and if the lack of sleep wears on her body, it certainly doesn’t wear on her soul. Still, you wonder if the late hours affect her more than she shows.
Her presence turns your attention on its axis so hard that you stutter, allowing Agatha to maneuver you to her liking. She sits propped against the headboard with your back leaning against her front.
Rio’s gaze is hued in mischief. Her hunger is languid and unhurried, full of certainty that intimacy and pleasure with you is an inexhaustible resource. You let her eyes consume you, deeply desperate for the way they claim and exalt you.
You are hopelessly hers.
Full of fuzzy and familiar tingles, intimacy swallows and suspends you. The lazy peacefulness of your night-turned-day lingers, a cloud of lust joining to warmly lap at your skin.
“Hush now, bunny.” Rio commands you, “I know you’re excited, but Daddy needs you to be good. Can you do that for me?”
You nod dumbly, pathetic and feeble in your desire.
“Answer her,” Agatha lazily growls into your ear before her teeth tug at your ear lobe.
Shit.
You know better. Rio lets you get away with nonverbal responses on occasion, but Agatha has less patience for lessons unlearned.
At least, you normally know better.
At the moment your thoughts are smudging and lumping together. It’s hard to know anything with Agatha’s lips languidly claiming your neck from behind. Two needy, hard nipples dig into your back and your chest threatens to collapse under the weight of your need. You’d do anything to feel the valleys of the pale, pink buds against your tongue.
Agatha’s fingers harshly grip your chin and force your gaze to lock with Rio’s. You can’t discern whether it’s an encouragement or a threat. If you’re lucky, it’ll be both.
“Answer. Her.” Agatha husks, her voice just under a tone that tickles your ear drums.
She’s toying with you- a lioness playing with her meal like she isn’t about to irreparably ruin you.
“Listen to your Mommy, conejito,” Rio soothes before she points a knowing smirk towards Agatha, “You know I can’t control her when she’s angry.”
Agatha’s chuckle is unthreatened, but pointedly clear as she now toys with Rio. She uses both hands to scratch down the front of your body, easily pivoting from toying with her prey to boasting the fruit of her hunt. In an act of pure pride, she spreads your legs wide.
As if Rio hasn’t seen your cunt enough for ten lifetimes, she immediately shifts her full focus to your center. Satisfaction tingles up your thighs when her cock twitches at the sight.
“Surely Daddy doesn’t think she controls me under other circumstances?”
Agatha’s tone borders on playful, but you feel the rumbling of a growl stirring in her chest. The tension in the air hangs thick. You don’t need to see Agatha’s glare to know it’s dangerous. Just like you’d know Rio’s smirk is an act of bravery even if you couldn’t see the shape of it taunting Agatha.
Your cunt throbs at the growing energy between them- the air teetering between an all consuming clarity and heated chaos.
As much as you want to, you can’t let them demolish each other. Not yet. You would like one, or both, of them in one piece for what you know is coming next. Desperate to quail the growing ache in your belly, you hurriedly blurt through the tension:
“Yes, daddy!” you call for Rio’s attention, “I can be good.”
There’s a brief delay- a pause as Agatha and Rio study each other. You float amidst their silent communication, finding comfort in the ease of which they gauge if shifting their attention from each other would be considered surrender. The tension that is consuming all the oxygen in the room suddenly dissipates, and you know you’ve won.
“I know you can, bunny,” Rio softens in the reflection of your devotion, “Daddy just needs you to show me.”
Her cock strains against the front of her briefs, angry for release from its confines. She grips it once firmly before hooking her thumbs under her waistband and pushing the offending fabric down her hips. At the first sign of the dark, closely cropped tuft of hair peeking out, you move to help- eager to have your nose buried in it with her cock invading the back of your throat.
Agatha thwarts your efforts by grabbing you by the hips and yanking you back down against her.
“Mommy isn’t so sure. Our little bunny has been so slutty today,” she muses like you aren’t even in the room, “Terribly sexy, but good? I’m not convinced.”
“What?!” you protest desperately, “No, I promise Mommy. I’ll be good!”
Her breath falls on your ear before she gives the softest ‘hmm?’ She routinely checks on you this way. Nothing to break the moment, but a breath just to ground you. You find one of her hands that still rests on your hips and tap once for ‘yes’. That’s all it takes.
Her nails dig into your hips as she chuckles lowly. The sound is full of gravel, her following husk made of grit:
“Prove it.”
You can do that.
You reach for Rio’s cock, eager to please and desperate to prove yourself. Your body is humming and painfully begging to be under their attention. Whatever request their will holds you are more than ready to satisfy. You truly don’t need much. Just for them to destroy you.
“Ah!” Agatha chastises before collecting and pinning your hands behind you, tucking them between both of your bodies.
Shitttttttt.
She already warned you once, and you had been completely oblivious. You aren’t intentionally riling her up, but you are on the precipice of fucking around and finding out. Your own warnings fire off like booming thunder in your mind, but your body is determined to get you into trouble.
Agatha’s normally coarse pubic hair feels pillowy and soft… So you tangle your fingers through it. You tighten your grip, rooting yourself to her in one last desperate attempt to ground yourself before you are sexually drop kicked into oblivion.
Agatha’s hum of approval is delicious- full of need, loathing, and desire.
“See, Daddy? If our little bunny was good they’d know to keep their hands to themselves.”
Her words are fierce, but somehow they hit you like water gently lapping against rocks on the shore. Still, through your dulled understanding of them you vaguely understand that you resent that.
Perhaps that is why you move to pinch Agatha’s clit. Or perhaps you just need to feel her. Whatever your motive, it loses steam as you fail to gain any real traction. She is so wet that your fingers slip off of her and through her swollen, smoldering lips.
She hisses, but recovers quickly.
“We clearly have an insatiable little slut on our hands.”
Agatha’s tone is more dangerous than you’ve heard in ages, but you both feel her rut into your hand. One of her hands stays to keep yours pinned, the other wraps firmly around your throat, each finger asserting its claim over you.
“I don’t think Daddy knows how to handle you, bunny. I think it’s high past time Mommy stepped in to give you a lesson on how to behave.” Her chuckle is honed with threat, “But more importantly...what happens when you don’t.”
She releases your hands, but you quickly realize freedom isn’t a gift you’ve earned yet as a firm, purposeful hand presses into your lower belly. You begin to understand the reality of the situation you are in:
You are fully at Agatha’s mercy, and she intends for you to remember that you always are.
Pressure digs deeply into your hips, down to the bone, rooting you to the spot. The numerous glasses of water you downed throughout the morning catch up with you all at once. Your muscles coil and squeal with desperation, and you go rigid in your efforts to control yourself.
Having to hold it in when you needed to pee yesterday is nothing compared to the weight ballooning within you. You can’t remember the last time you had to pee this bad. Really, you don’t think you’ve ever had to pee this bad. The purposeful pressure of Agatha’s hand threatens to make you burst at every seam in your body.
You clench and clench, hungry to retain the last shred of control you have. Your cheeks burn so deeply that you are certain you’re colored ten shades of purple. Hollow scraping invades your mind, the noise of your teeth gritting against each other pounding against your determination before you instead bite into your cheek.
You can hold it. You can hold it. You can...
Agatha pushes into your belly even deeper, wiggling her fingers before her hand finally meets resistance as it begins digging into your pubic bone. You are powerless over the small spurt of liquid that gushes out of you before you clamp down hard enough to keep your dam in place.
A long, exaggerated gasp mocks you from behind.
“Look at that...” Agatha muses, her taunt biting deeply into your resolve, “Our little bunny had an accident, Daddy.”
You feel everything- your pores puckering as sweat begins to bead on your forehead, each strand of your straining muscles twisting into something far too taut, the hair on your arms standing at attention to meet their coos. You exude such effort that your legs threaten to cramp. As you squirm to avoid these cramps, which only makes the pressure worse, Rio tuts.
“Oh, bunny...” she mock pouts, “That’s okay. It’s hard for little ones like you to hold it, hmm?”
Embarrassment claws down your neck, through your shoulders, and right to where you strain to contain what your body so desperately needs to release. The thrum of your pulse threatens to burst through your neck as you clench your jaw so tightly your teeth click and lock into place.
“There’s no need to hurt yourself, baby,” Agatha coos, “That’s Mommy’s job.”
Your shiver tickles you both, and you force your focus directly to your aching pelvis. You can hold it. You will hold it.
The surrounding shuffling, the soft words being exchanged about a strapon, all of it eludes you until you hear a click.
A faint buzz prefaces a determined breeze jolts you as the tower fan at the foot of your bed whirs to life, sealing your fate. You fail in your efforts to close your legs, to conceal your most sensitive area, but Agatha holds them open. She firmly locks her ankles over yours, and you feel detached from the noise that escapes you.
You try to set an example for your bladder by holding your breath, willing your muscles to contain what is so close to bursting out.
You can hold it. You can…
“I can’t hold it,” your plea tumbles from you in a desperate exhalation, “Mommy, please…”
“You can, sweetheart,” she soothes, “and you will.”
Her fingers feel warmer, now, against the constant barrage of cold air. It does little to help as she kneads at your cunt, pulling your lips up and back to expose your clit. The air stings and bites against you.
“No, Mommy-”
“Shh, breathe, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
She taps lightly against your clit and you keen. Pleasure clashes with the sharp coiling of your stomach flipping and your body begins to revolt. Your mouth is watering. Protesting chills freckle your skin in areas you’ve never felt before. You claw into Agatha’s thighs so you don’t implode.
“If you need to take it out on Mommy, that’s okay, but you have to hold it, baby.” Her tone is gentler, soothing and firm without any performative malice: “You can do it, love. I know you can.”
You unscrew your eyes to find that Rio is gone, leaving an interlude that softens Agatha. You take a risk.
“Let me give it to you, Mommy. If we do it now, it's all for you.”
Her chuckle rumbles and rolls straight to your heart. Though it soars, you know you’ve lost.
“Nice try, bunny. Just hold tight. You told Daddy you’d be good for her, yes?”
She doesn’t acknowledge your grunt. Instead, she whispers right into your ear:
“She’s thirsty for you.”
“Jesus fucking christ.”
“That’s some strong language, bunny. She wants you to potty in her mouth, not for you to be a potty mouth.”
“You want to fucking kill me.”
Her chuckle is rolling thunder, soothing, yet still reminding you that caution is necessary lest you get swallowed whole by the storm.
“Kill you? No… Demolish you? Perhaps.”
Between the persistent breeze against your aching center and Agatha’s coy teasing, you’re truly only certain of one thing:
“I’m gonna fucking pee all over the bed,” you whine, fussy and petulant in the shallow pool that once held your autonomy and control.
“You will,” Rio casually confirms as she saunters back into the bedroom, “but not until we give you permission.”
You’ll deny your actions are purposeful if they ever ask, but you’re a puppet of your desperation and Rio looks weak at the sight of you and Agatha…
You strike.
“Daddy, please… I’ll do anything.”
You’re giving your best puppy dog eyes, putting on a show of looking pitiful and needy. (Which doesn’t take much effort.) She gives you a knowing smirk, seeing through your ploy easily, and pats you on the head.
“I’m counting on it, conejito,” she agrees before directing, “Everybody up!”
You roll your eyes, to which Agatha swats you for as she pokes at you to move out of the bed.
“Behave,” she warns, whispering to you as she stands, “Daddy’s nicer than me. Next time I’ll punish you.”
She takes her strap from Rio before speaking much louder:
“Understood?”
You start to nod before your self-preservation skills whir to life.
“Yes!”
Agatha’s eyebrow barely raises, unsatisfied with your response. You kick yourself before adding:
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Good, baby,” she dotes, her kiss to your cheek contrasting with the danger lurking in her tone.
She takes her strap from Rio and situates it.
Along with the purple strap, your favorite of Agatha’s collection, Rio bears a handful of towels and a…
“Is that a changing pad?”
Rio sets the towels on the bed, blanketing the changing mat on top.
“It’s cute, yeah?” Rio offers, winking as heat (surely permanently) stains your cheeks.
You fuss with your fingers as you subtly assess the little otters that decorate the mat. It matches your favorite onesie.
Obviously it's cute… In a completely objective way. Sure, you saw a picture of it online once or twice. Never for long, though. Only briefly when you furiously scrolled past the diapers. You never purposefully looked for anything like that. You just had to wade through it sometimes to find cute onesies and pajamas.
Agatha and Rio are never shy about caring for you. Truly, you hadn’t realized how many of your tendencies fell into the category of ‘little space’. At first, having a word and concept for when you feel small- whether it's deeply carefree or meek and overwhelmingly vulnerable- felt daunting. Slowly but surely, Agatha and Rio built such a fundamental, unwavering safety for you that you now feel weightless under their attention.
Still, the three of you have never discussed anything that would call for a changing pad. Given the revelation of yesterday and the subsequent activities, it certainly isn’t far-fetched, but it still feels…
Any useful words you know are jumping out of your brain’s emergency exits. Really, your mind is rushing to ready your defenses, one thing screaming through the noise:
“Is that necessary?” You inquire, unable to stifle the piece of you that suddenly aches to be held.
Two arms become available right as you need them, and you easily sink into Rio’s embrace. Her lips meet your forehead and she lightly scratches your back, working to unwind the tenseness that stiffens your muscles.
“Maybe not,” she offers, predictably warm and amicable, “but even big bunnies can enjoy a little playtime, yes?”
Something suddenly has your tongue, and you stutter, completely unable to give a response.
“It’s like three times as absorbent as the towels, conejito,” Rio offers, quick to concede in the face of your worries, “I can put it under the towels if you prefer?”
The faint noises of Agatha situating her strap fade. Agatha now stands behind you, a coy gasp sending tingles down the side of your neck.
“Am I hearing that someone doesn’t want to play with Mommy and Daddy?”
From your place in Rio’s arms, Agatha wraps her arms around you from behind. Her strap pokes at where your cheeks meet your thighs. It's deliciously close to where you’re aching for her, but not close enough.
“It’s just a mat, baby.” She rocks her hips, your thighs, wet in your need, easily accommodate the girth of her strap. “Don’t worry, you’ll be remaining naked. I need to be able to use your little cunt anytime I want, hmm?”
Between her slick length, the heat of Rio’s cock, and the absoluteness of being wedged between their two bodies- you’re sufficiently drunk. Completely in tune with her words, you easily comply when she commands:
“Get on the bed, on your back, head towards the headboard.”
Rio stands smug, pleased at the display of docility. Her smirk morphs into confusion when Agatha nods towards the bed.
“Rio, on the bed, head towards me.” She quips.
“Wha-“
“Bed. Now.”
Rio’s throat visibly swells with a swallow that looks like a demanding task. Agatha always has a commanding presence, but with a cock between her legs she’s even harder to challenge. Annoyance melds into anticipation and Rio joins you in compliance.
Agatha grabs a pillow and offers it to Rio, poking and prodding at you both until yours and Rio’s asses are brushing against each other, your legs resting over top of Rio’s.
Thick, bobbing purple hypnotizes you. You hardly register that Agatha is climbing on top of Rio until she tuts- admonishing you while smirking in the way only a worshipped woman can.
“My eyes are up here, baby. Do you see something you want?”
She never breaks eye contact and remains facing in your direction, straddling Rio in reverse cowgirl. This is likely why she misses Rio’s hands shooting to grasp her hips. With a devilish smirk, she swats Rio’s hands away.
“Good boys ask before grabbing,” she muses while hovering over Rio’s cock.
“Can I touch you?”
“No.”
Rio growls in frustration before the throaty noise morphs into a moan as Agatha sinks onto her cock. Your mouth floods- a sign of your body demanding attention, as you fixate on the way Agatha’s wet, swollen cunt engulfs Rio so easily.
After a few minutes, which were likely just a few seconds, Agatha’s dark curls camouflage Rio’s balls. Rio’s legs twitch beneath yours and Agatha lets a chuckle roll from somewhere deep in her belly.
Can she see your clit twitch?
You work to flex your muscles, hoping to beckon her lips to wrap themselves around you.
As Agatha begins to ride Rio, the bobbing of her strap once again entrances you. She lazily, purposefully, traces up the insides of your thighs. Feathery touches lift you to float in the air, dull scratches following to slam you back into the earth. She alternates these so skillfully that you almost forget you have to pee- the throbbing of your cunt echoing the whooshing in your ears.
Almost.
Lewd squelching thickens the air, just one of the filthy and delicious noises of her cunt swallowing Rio’s cock. Lithe fingers toy with your pussy lips, exploring the slick consuming them, when you mumble:
“Mommy…I can’t.”
Her eyes flick to yours. Blue eyes hone into you so purely that your skin prickles, feeling as though they are boring into your soul for the very first time.
“Can’t what, bunny?” she asks coyly, grabbing Rio’s hands and making a show of guiding them to her hips, moaning at the hungry fingers that dig into her skin.
“Hold it!”
“Hold what, sweetheart?”
“IT!” You gesture broadly towards your crotch, before leaving no room for misinterpretation, “My peeeeeeee. Mommy, please.”
She gasps in mock shock.
“That’s right… You did tell Mommy you needed to pee, didn’t you?”
She’s now fondling her own tits, her hips performing a deliciously hypnotic dance as she grinds down onto Rio’s cock. One hand shifts focus, ghosting over your clit and causing you to jolt. Protests die before they make it to your lips, your brain short circuiting as she uses both hands to seize your hips. Her nails retreat from your skin to brush her palms along the lines of your groin, right at the top of your hips.
The air you almost choke on seems nearly damp. Her hands come together at your lower stomach, just above your mound, and you know you’re cooked.
“That’s too bad, bunny. You’re busy playing with Mommy and Daddy.”
Leaning forward, she puts all of her weight on her hands, digging into your bladder and almost causing you to burst at the seams. You can no longer hear the noises of her riding Rio, the pressure digging into your core bringing tears to your eyes as you deny your release.
You’re a mess of kicks and wiggles as your teeth scratch against each other like chalk on a chalkboard.
“Daddy, can you hold bunny’s ankles, please?”
You don’t feel it, but know she must have since your movements are now stifled.
“That’s better,” Agatha’s voice is victorious, “God, you’re both so much fucking sexier when all you can do is whimper instead of mouthing off.”
Time zaps into nothing. You are only vaguely aware of Agatha’s fingers entering and exiting you, using your wetness to jerk her strap. You’ve floated away, a deep, painful pressure the only thing rooting you to this plane of existence. Maybe Agatha starts fingering you, just enough to start jerking her strap and getting it wet.
The pressure momentarily subsides before a hand presses at the sides of your throat, regaining some of your attention.
“You’re going to hold it. You’re going to control your needy little cunt, then you’re going to let Mommy fuck all the piss out of you, yes?”
“Agatha,” Rio sounds desperate and pained, “let up or I’m going to cum.”
Agatha sighs, as if being inconvenienced, though she doesn’t seem to mind as she moves off of Rio to line herself up with your entrance.
“Go on, Daddy. Give bunny a taste. Just a little one.”
Movement stirs the bed until Rio is crouching next to your head.
“Can you take me, baby?” You nod and her smile is full of pride. “Of course you can. Open up for me, love.”
Your jaw questions you as you stretch it beyond its normal constraints. Before you can blink, Rio’s cock is working itself down your throat. The intrusion is delicious, sending your eyes to the back of your head as each vein that lines the bottom of her cock scrapes over your tongue.
Her girth begins to split your throat open, and you test your breathing with a big inhale through your nose. She doesn’t hilt herself fully, which piques your curiosity.
That’s odd…
“Okay, fuck, bunny. Here it comes. Be good for me, yeah? I’ll just give you a little.”
In your stupor, you don’t understand what she means until the curve of her cock jabs upwards before falling back into place as a hot, gentle trickle begins to fill your throat.
Your instinct tells you to panic, alerting you that you’re going to drown. You focus all of your energy on willing your muscles to relax as you give your first swallow. Through blurry vision, you see Rio succumb and betray her restraint.
Grunting, she nudges only marginally further into your throat, the real shift coming from her steady trickle bursting into a demanding, forceful stream. Your cunt clenches at a painful nothingness, hoping to somehow vacuum Agatha in. Molten lava courses against your throat, and you do your best to swallow it all. Despite your best efforts, it pools in your mouth before dribbling down your cheeks and chin.
“That’s enough,” Agatha commands, pulling at Rio’s elbow, “Save some for later.”
In a heaping show of strength and compliance, Rio cuts her stream off, her cock angrily twitching and giving you a few more drops.
“So good for Mommy and Daddy, bunny. Are you ready for Mommy to fuck you now, sweetheart?”
She doesn’t give you the chance to answer before she forcefully bottoms out in record time, hitting depths you forgot you even had.
Rio snuffs out your moan before it fully leaves your chest as she begins shallowly thrusting into your mouth. If she gave you the chance to speak, you’d tell her she could go deeper. That you need her to go deeper.
Tears sting your eyes at the deliciously unbearable sting of the pleasure of being full mixing with the pain of needing to let go.
You mumble pleas around Rio’s cock, and Agatha seems satisfied that they are unintelligible.
“Poor baby,” She leans her weight right above your mound again, “Do you still need to pee?”
After a few more thrusts that you feel in your gut, Agatha gathers your legs before leaning down to lay on top of you, folding you in the process. You only momentarily impress yourself by how close your knees are to your ears before she’s husking in your ear:
“You should’ve said so. There’s no need to be embarrassed, bunny.”
Rio pulls out of your mouth stumbling in her shuffle back to lean on her heels. She moves to kneel at the foot of the bed, hoping to get a good seat for the show.
You grab at her shoulders, her tits, wherever your hands can find purchase. You’re nearly numb in your need to explode.
“Please, Mommy. It hurts.”
“Shh, I know, baby. Cum for Mommy and you can let go, hmm? Cum for me and piss all over my cock.”
She slides a hand between your bodies to paw at your clit. It’s so slippery that she can only broadly stroke and hope it's consistent enough to bring you to your release.
You aren’t sure that you’ll be able to cum, but when she bottoms out on an extra deep thrust, she stays buried in you to offer shallow, rough strokes. One moment, you’re present, and the next you’ve been slingshot into the sun.
You cum with screams and croaks, your piss bursting from you against your will. Relief blankets over your body and melts your bones. You’re lost in euphoria when you feel wet warmth pooling between yours and Agatha’s bodies. You don’t even mind. In fact, the result of letting yourself go is oddly comforting.You are deflating, one fluid ounce at a time, and when Agatha pulls out you whine at the emptiness.
Agatha, far from her dominance shown only moments ago, coos:
“It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s gonna fill you up now.”
Agatha climbs off of you, what still streams out of you decorating her stomach in droplets, and Rio grips your hips to flip you over. She pulls you onto your hands and knees with little effort, causing you to clamp down. Once you’re set in place, you unclench, renewing a gentle trickle to flow from you.
Rio eagerly dives in, spreading your cheeks to lap at you from your clit to your ass. Agatha settles under you, her head beneath your cunt, and your lips now dangerously close to hers. You are being rung out like a wet towel- Rio slurping some of you, and Agatha greedily waiting for the rest.
Once your tap has run dry, Rio wastes no time in entering you. Her cock is slightly girthier than Agatha’s strap, deceptively equal in length with an upward curve. You expect her to take off like a race horse, but once she stuffs most of the way into you, she stills.
“Ready to take the rest of Daddy’s piss, bunny? Just relax. I’m going to fill you up then you’re going to give it to Mommy.”
As if to punctuate her sentence, hot liquid begins to pool inside of you. You stifle your groans, mindlessly burning yourself into Agatha’s cunt. You aren’t sure how long she fills you, but you do feel dribbles down the inside of your thighs.
She grips your shoulders, yanking you away from Agatha.
“I’m going to pull out now. Tell Mommy what you’re about to give her.”
“Fuck, I–”
Smack. She sternly slaps your ass, enough to sting and sufficiently chastise you.
“I’m so full of Daddy’s piss, Mommy. I’m gonna give it all to you…”
Heavy splatters follow Agatha’s throaty groan as Rio pulls out. Each time you clench a splatter follows. Each one has less and less to offer. You peak between your and Agatha’s bodies to see Rio briefly dip her cock into Agatha’s mouth. As she attempts to pull out, Agatha follows her, so much so that the curve of Rio’s cock bulges her throat.
Rio sinks into the wanton throat and when you turn your attention back to Agatha’s cunt, you see fresh wetness leaking from her center.
Aching to taste her, you let your tongue explore her silky heat. As Rio works her throat and you work her cunt, you both have her twitching. Eventually, Rio’s thrusts stutter and you climb off of Agatha just in time to see Rio completely bottom out into her throat to shoot rope after rope of cum where her cock nestles. With each rope you see a subtle twitch of her cock, which you know likely does not feel subtle to Agatha.
Rio fully withdraws, slick and saliva stringing between her cock, balls, and Agatha’s lips.
As Agatha gasps for air, she readjusts to lay on the pillows, dragging you both down and pushing you to settle between her legs. Rio’s face is still wet with your slick and her lips compel you to taste yourself on them. Your tongues lazily hand off control, hers invading your mouth and then vice versa. There is something…tangier? Saltier? About your taste.
You melt into a confusing, but very aroused, puddle of mush when you realize you can taste your own piss on Rio’s tongue.
“Come on, you two. Ready to take Mommy’s piss?”
Agatha gently guides both of your heads to her center, coaxing you into eating her out. You both do so with desperate vigor. Yours and Rio’s tongues flit past each other, occasionally nudging into each other. After a brief battle over who gets to such her clit, Rio yields and you both begin to suckle the bud in tandem.
As your tongues lavish over, through, and inside of Agatha, her moans become needy and demanding.
“Okay, fuck, here it comes. Don’t waste it.”
You’re lost in a flurry of molten kisses, noises of Agatha filling your mouths, audible swallows, and a persistent stream begging for your attention. Agatha rains over you both, and you decide she is your new favorite fountain. Eventually, she gushes from an orgasm and the three of you fall into a spent heap of limbs and wetness.
“That was…” Rio trails off.
“Yeah…” you and Agatha agree in tandem.
You have no energy left to expend, not even opening your eyes as you ask:
“When did you all get this changing mat?”
When met with silence, you pry one eye open to peek up, wondering if they both fell asleep.
They seem to be in a silent conversation with one another before noticing your eyes on them. They speak at the same time:
“Irrelevant.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sailor.”
You furrow your brow in confusion.
“Wha-”
“Who’s hungry?” Rio, suddenly full of energy, clambers out of bed.
“STARVING,” Agatha insists as she leaps out of bed.
As they shuffle around the room, you continue to peek at them. Their avoidance doesn’t offend you, you know them both well enough to know that they seem more embarrassed than guilty. You are far too satiated to press the matter tonight.
“Come on,” Agatha extends a hand to pull you up, “Bath time, bunny.”
You, with little conviction, swat her hand away before attempting to roll over and snuggle down.
“No you don’t,” Agatha concurs in amusement as she pulls at your limp body.
You continue your lame swats in her direction before she concedes.
More accurately, before she arms herself to make you concede.
“Five…”
You stiffen.
“Four…”
You peek back over your shoulder, finding her standing tall, hands firmly planted on her hips. Looking straight into your eyes, she continues.
“Three…”
You squint, attempting to call a bluff you know isn’t there.
“Two…” she drags out, a final warning.
She intakes a breath, ready to seal your fate before you interrupt:
“FINE, fine, fine, fine. I’m getting up.”
“Aww, good bunny,” she chuckles as she swats your butt while you walk towards the restroom.
After a few minutes, everything is ready, and Agatha sinks into the steaming water first before guiding you to sit between her legs. As you rest against her, the swell of her breasts cushioning you, she contentedly sighs in your ear.
“Our little sailor…” she muses before peppering you in kisses and whispering words of admiration, pride, and devotion.
One grilled cheese, a bottle of water, and a set of fresh sheets later, Agatha wraps her arms around you and yours wrap around Rio. You drift peacefully to sleep, a smile to keep you company as you imagine what may be in store for you tomorrow.
*—*
A/N: Rio is a LITTLE SPOON, confirmed! I hope you all enjoyed this venture into the high seas.
Agatha and Rio told me good sailors leave like, reblog, or reply to provide the captain with validation. It's certainly not required, but just know this is who you're asking to post filthy sex stories on the internet: 🥺👉👈
nicky declining the witches help by saying his mother needs him home…one of his parents actually did in fact need him home and was calling to him. if he was used to seeing rio, i wonder if he could subconsciously feel the pull
forgive me if this has already been pointed out but i was rewatching maiden mother crone and got emotional all over again.
