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Will looks up, smiling as, in the little circular mirror sitting on his desk, he spies Abigail approaching him from the door separating their house from the garage. Will keeps his fishing equipment and builds his lures here, mindful of the smell of bait and tackle, and it's a place he can get some time to himself. They all have similar spaces in their house – Hannibal, in his study, where he can compose and read and idly scheme out his brainteasers. Abigail has a little cubby nook in her bedroom where she can read or draw or listen to her music, and Will has the garage, and the stream behind their home.
He sets down his little scissors and the string he was cutting, and turns to her with another wide smile. She grins as she approaches, and leans down to cup his face with one hand, kisses him chaste and light on the mouth, and then pulls the broad, long box she was holding behind her back into view, with a flourish.
Will tilts his head, brows lifting. "Whatcha got there, baby?" he murmurs. She merely grins wider, and angles the box so that he can see the sender's name and address. It's the same one belonging to the website Hannibal showed them, where they could pick and choose a toy Abigail wanted.
Will lifts his eyes, sees her own bright with anticipation, pupils big and black, and he smiles at her, takes her hands and pulls her between his knees. She is quick to set the box down on his desk where there's a clear area, and climbs into his lap, the soft leggings clinging to her hips and thighs so delicate, easy to rip, as Will's hands spread out wide on her ass and cradle her close.
"Is this something for you, or for me?" Will asks. After all, by the end of it her shopping cart had been toeing the line of four figures with shipping, and he's sure it didn't all go to whatever's in the one box. She is an insatiable little monstress, and Will is sure both he and Hannibal are due for a number of pleasant surprises in the next few days.
Her small hands come to rest on his shoulders, sliding in, cradling his ears, and then back, threading through his hair. "It's the toy I want to fuck you with," she says, smile wide and lashes low when Will groans, tightening his hands on her when she wraps her fingers in his hair and tugs, forcing his head back, forcing him to expose his neck. Abigail leans down, mouthing over the tense tendon framing the arch of his throat, bites down oh so gently in a way that makes his spine shiver, shoulders tightening. "It's big, and heavy. I think you'll like it."
Will has no doubt he'll like it. He gasps as she licks over the little pink patch of skin she bit, dragging her nose up his neck and kissing at the corner of his jaw. Her body rolls, spread thighs gripping him tightly, mindful of the narrowness of the chair, and she drags her hips over Will's lap, letting out a quiet, contented sound when Will starts to harden for her, and she can rut against his thickening erection more firmly.
She pulls back, smiling at the helpless little moan he responds with, and reaches past his shoulder, relying on him to keep her seated comfortably, and puts the box between them. She opens the end with a swift tug of her fingers beneath the tape, and peels it off, opening it to reveal a big, black satin bag, drawn tight at the end with a ribbon. She lifts the bag from the box and tosses the box to one side, tugs at the ribbon strings until it unwinds, and slowly peels the bag from her toy.
Will swallows. It's a thick dildo, a swirled mix of blue and black – he's inwardly glad she didn't get anything flesh-colored, that's an uncanny valley thing he doesn't want to think about too much. It's a semi-realistic shape, with a thick-bulging head, and over-pronounced veins running down the shaft of it, but turning to ridges towards the base. Will's body clenches with anticipation, because he knows enough about himself, and where he likes stimulation, to know he'll rut mindlessly against something like that, seeking friction on his sensitive rim.
The fake cock has balls, heavy and smooth, and the entirety of it is just about as long and thick as Hannibal is. He carefully balances her on his spread thighs and wraps his hand around the thickest part of it, just past the head, and gives it an experimental squeeze, growling softly at the slight give of the material – a little firmer than Hannibal's cock, or his own, or any other real one might be. Merciless. Unyielding.
His mouth waters.
"It came with a harness," Abigail tells him, her own voice just as soft, breathy, her eyes black and cheeks turning pink as she unconsciously rubs herself against Will's erection. It creates little fissures of pleasure in the base of Will's spine, making him want to buck up, to sink into her. But oh, Christ, he wants that inside him too. He wants her inside him. "Do you like it?"
Will nods quickly, sliding his fingers down the shaft, until they cover hers. "Fuck yeah, baby, I do," he replies. He lifts his eyes, sees her grinning wide and proud, and straightens up so he can kiss her. "You have excellent taste."
"In both men and toys," she replies with a giggle, and leans down for another kiss. She reaches out and sets the dildo on Will's desk, and grips his shoulders tightly. "I want to fuck you with it tonight, after daddy's gotten you all slick for me and filled you with his come."
Fuck. Will growls, his hands finding her hips again and squeezing gently, shoving her down against him. He feels like he'll fucking die if he doesn't get inside her soon, doesn't get to taste her or feel how wet she is. He can smell it; the musky, salt-sweet scent of her arousal, loves the way it paints her cheeks pink and darkens her eyes.
"Has daddy seen your new toy, baby?" he whispers, and she shakes her head. "You wanna show him?"
She nods, and makes to stand, but Will grabs her tighter, turns in his chair and lifts her onto his desk, careful not to accidentally catch her on his lures, his scissors, his sharp fishing hooks. He pushes her legs apart and stands, reaching down to free his cock from the unbearable restriction of his clothes.
"Not yet," he tells her, and cups her warm neck, kisses her deeply as she gasps and wriggles her leggings down to her knees, spreading and baring where she's hot and wet and pink. He grabs the top of her thighs, holding her still, and she bites her lip and reaches down to help him angle himself properly, and he growls as he sinks inside her, immediately wrapped in that fucking hot, sinfully tight clench of her body. Fuck, she feels good, grips him like a Goddamn vice, and she lets out a breathless moan as he shoves all the way inside her hard enough that his desk jolts from the force.
He sighs loudly, dropping his forehead to hers. Her legs are folded, saddle of her leggings pressed tight to his chest, her shoes digging into his ribs. He reaches down to rub his thumb in small, firm circles around her clit. She whimpers, and lifts her feet so he can duck beneath her clothes and she's got him by the back of his neck, her leggings around his nape and pulling tight, urging him to fuck her harder, deeper.
He growls when she reaches and fists savagely at his hair, pulling him down to her mouth and forcing him to fold her, to grab her ass and hold her still since she's in no position to move with him, and God, she's so hot and wet, she must have been soaking the second she picked up the box from the front step.
He kisses her, and barely manages to wait until she comes, clenching up and shivering around him, before he presses as deep into her as he can and floods her slick, quivering body.
She grins up at him, lets him rest against her, petting through his sweaty hair in soft, affectionate brushes of her hands, and he slips out of her, growling when his sensitive cock meets the cool air. He kisses her desperately, and wishes he could get hard all over again, fuck her all over again, because she feels so Goddamn good and Will wants to keep her coming until she can't walk.
She gives him a low-lidded look, smiles widely, and kisses him one more time before her legs pull together, and she wriggles as he ducks his head and unhooks her, and she pushes him away. She drags a hand through the mess he made of her and shoves her fingers into his mouth and Will moans helplessly, sucking her clean, and helps her stand and correct her clothes. She pulls her fingers out and tucks his cock back into his jeans, and lifts to her toes to kiss him again, before she retrieves the dildo and the bag and wraps everything back up into a neat little bundle.
"I'm gonna go show him," she says brightly, and Will nods, still trying to catch his breath. "I have big plans for you."
Will huffs, and gives her a lazy, fucked-out smile. He takes her fingers and kisses her knuckles, breathing in the scent of them both on her skin. "Lookin' forward to it, sweetheart."
They always eat dinner together, no matter what their daily plans are – the only exception being when Will is out of town on cases. Hannibal serves some Italian-sounding thing Will has no hope of pronouncing, but apparently means good meat and a crisp, salty egg-based sauce, with chili-warmed broccoli stalks neatly cubed, and pureed carrots sweetened with cinnamon. All invigorating flavors that fill Will's mouth with a light burn as he eats, sitting across from Abigail, at Hannibal's left-hand side.
It isn't difficult to sense the tension, the low thrum of anticipation circling between them all like an electric current, slowly gaining strength and fierceness until Will feels like he's vibrating in his seat. When their meal is done, Hannibal stands and clears the plates as he always does, bidding them remain seated while he goes to the kitchen, and returns soon after.
He settles with another sigh, chair creaking under his weight, and smiles at both of them, taking his wine glass and bringing it to his lips. Will mimics him, hoping to calm the thrum of his racing heart with the alcohol. It's another unspoken agreement – they wait, until Hannibal is finished with his meal or otherwise signals the end of dinner, before moving to the living room or one of their bedrooms or wherever else they happen to end up. Even so, Hannibal seems to be deliberately taking his time, his dark eyes shining with amusement when Abigail shifts her weight and lets out an impatient breath.
"I'm given to understand," he says, after a moment of companionable, if charged, silence, "that our darling Abigail has something new she'd like to try tonight."
She nods, her eyes on Will, and Will wonders if he's ever looked at her in such a predatory way. He can't think of a time when he did, but where else would she have learned it from?
Then, he meets Hannibal's eyes. Ah, of course. Hannibal looks at him that way often.
He swallows back a rough, eager little noise, and takes another drink.
Hannibal smiles at him, soft with affection, but wide enough to show his teeth. "Is there anything you'd like to preemptively say 'No' to, before we begin?"
Will shakes his head, breathes out heavily. "You know what I like," he replies. And Abigail has watched Hannibal fuck him before, after all, even if her own participation was usually the role of curious onlooker, and the few times she's worked her fingers inside him after Hannibal has finished. But Hannibal's been fucking him for years, and Will trusts him to watch and react should something happen. Not that he really believes Abigail is capable of hurting him, but in the interest of mutual satisfaction, he understands the need to be sure.
Hannibal nods, and they both look to Abigail. She flushes darkly – not shy, just deeply affected – and clears her throat, meets Will's eyes. "I want to watch him fuck you," she says, as assured as she had been earlier in the garage. "And I want him to finish inside you, and then I want to have my turn." Will swallows, pressing his lips together, already tense in anticipation of the overstimulation, the sharp ache of getting fucked by such an unyielding toy after he's had Hannibal inside him. She looks at Hannibal, and lifts her chin. "Ideally, I'd be the one to make him come, but I won't be mad if he can't last that long."
Hannibal smiles, and gives her an agreeing nod. Will isn't prepared for the hard punch of arousal that rises in him, being talked about like he's not even there. Like he's just a toy for their amusement. His fingers curl, his lungs feel too tightly bound inside his ribs.
Hannibal reaches for Abigail's hand, takes her like a gentleman greeting a lady for the first time, and kisses her knuckles. "I'm sure he can behave himself," he says, not looking at Will. Another rush of anticipation floods him, and he flattens his hands tight on his thighs, kneading restlessly. "And if he can't, we'll simply have to keep using him until he does."
"Oh, God," Will breathes, unable to swallow back the little gasp before the words escape. Hannibal's eyes brighten with mirth, and he winks at Abigail, before he sits back and finishes his wine. Will follows suit, and Abigail after – she's allowed wine with dinner, despite not yet being of age, because Hannibal is an indulgent man and a little wine with dinner never hurt anyone, provided she doesn't do anything reckless when not in their company.
He pushes himself to his feet, because the wine is done, which means they can begin. He circles the table and Hannibal lifts his chin, accepting Will's kiss when Will bows over the arm of his chair and flattens a hand on his chest, swallowing the soft rumble of pleasure Hannibal lets roll into his mouth. He tightens his fingers and pulls Hannibal up with a plaintive noise, shivering when Hannibal stands, and curls a hand through Will's thick hair.
"Abigail," he says, when their kiss ends, and he turns to look at her, smiling widely. "Go fetch whatever you'd like to use tonight, and meet us in our bedroom."
Abigail nods, flushed and frantic with eagerness, and practically flees the dining room and goes up the stairs. Hannibal tugs on Will's hair, making him sag and shiver, nose tucked to Hannibal's jaw as he paws weakly at the other man's hips.
He knows there's a plan, because when Hannibal is in charge there's always a plan, and so he remains silent as Hannibal pulls him towards the stairs and leads him up them, towards the master bedroom where Hannibal sleeps – usually with Will, more often with all three of them unless Abigail isn't in the mood or Will is spending the night with her alone instead. When it's just Hannibal and Abigail, it's usually because Will is out, fishing or simply away on one of his cases. They're both more prone to the need for companionship than he is, though they're all equally capable of being alone. Since they discovered Abigail is able to take all of Hannibal in her ass, Will is sure they've spent more solo time together than before, and he loves the mental image of Hannibal covering her, suffocating her under his powerful body as he fucks her and fingers her until she comes around his cock.
They cross the threshold and Will swallows harshly as Hannibal pulls him to a halt, and turns him so that they can both see the door and will know when she arrives. Hannibal presses up close to his back, puts his teeth at Will's ear, and commands; "Take off your clothes."
Will nods, quick to pull his shirt off over his head and fold it, setting it by the little miniature sitting area in Hannibal's room. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, working them off over his bare feet, shivering as Hannibal's hands flatten on his exposed shoulders, run down to grip his hips and hold him steady as Will bends to pull his jeans off, folding them and setting them on top of his shirt.
Hannibal tuts, before he can take his underwear off – stalls Will's hands and kisses his neck, sliding his touch beneath the waistband of Will's underwear and squeezing his hard cock, making Will moan and tip his head back onto Hannibal's shoulder.
He feels Hannibal's teeth when he smiles, pulling Will out and making his underwear bunch up behind his balls. He strokes Will with a teasing, aching slowness, tight enough Will moans again, arching into the touch, and reaches to grip Hannibal's hair as Hannibal bites down over the little pink mark Abigail left on his neck earlier.
Hannibal flattens his free hand on Will's stomach, encouraging him to grind back against Hannibal's clothed cock, and he lifts his head when the door opens. "Ah, there you are, darling," Hannibal purrs, and Will lifts his head, blinking at Abigail as she comes into view. She's wearing a comfortable-looking, plain black bra, her hair falling in long waves down her shoulders, and the harness, the thick cock hanging limply from her hips. It looks even bigger compared to her dainty frame, and Will's knees feel abruptly so weak, thinking about her small hands gripping him as she shoves it inside him.
She smiles at them both, and closes the door behind her, coming up to Will and kissing his breathless mouth as he wraps an arm around her, settling at the small of her back. Hannibal takes her fake cock in his hand, makes Will's erection grind against it, and he moans again at the size, sure that Hannibal can feel how his belly tenses and his cock twitches when his sensitive erection grinds against the firm plastic.
He wraps a hand in her long hair, gripping her tightly, and she breaks the kiss with another breathless little laugh. "You're wearing too many clothes, daddy," she says teasingly, pushing at Will's underwear so it falls to his ankles.
Will grins at her, kisses her flushed cheek, and steps out of them when Hannibal lets him go, giving them the same treatment as the rest of his clothes. "Daddy likes teasing me," he replies with an arched eyebrow sent Hannibal's way.
Hannibal smiles at them both, unrepentant, and turns away, fetching the bottle of lubricant from the bedside table. "Darling, since you're the one being given the show, do you have any preference for how I use our boy tonight?"
She bites her lower lip, looking Will up and down with that same dark, predatory gaze. Her head tilts. "I'm not sure," she admits. Then, her smile widens, turns sharply up on one side, and she looks back to Hannibal. "Whatever way he likes best."
Will shivers, another fierce pulse of heat gathering in his stomach when, once again, he's discussed as though he's not even there. He wonders how often they do that – how often they lay with each other and talk about all the things they would do to and with him when he's not in the room.
Hannibal smiles widely, and nods. "I have just the idea, then," he purrs, and comes to the edge of the bed. "Come here, Will." Will obeys, going to him, and Hannibal kisses him, flattens his hands wide on Will's flanks and shoves him down to the bed, on his back. Will tries to move, to push himself up the bed, but Hannibal shakes his head, growls at him, and yanks him back down so he's on the very edge. "Abigail, come kneel by his head. We'll give his mouth something to play with while I get him ready."
Abigail's eyes flash with intrigue, and she nods, climbing onto the bed. Will moans, turning his head as the head of her huge cock brushes along his shoulder. She smiles down at him, scratching her nails over his scalp in a pleasant touch, pushing his hair from his face, as he opens his mouth and lets the bulging head of the fake cock push past his lips.
She shivers, her eyes black and wide as she watches him take it. He hears Hannibal open the lubricant bottle, wet his fingers, and set it to one side. He pushes Will's thighs apart. "Hold yourself open for me, darling," he murmurs, and Will groans as he obeys, his hands cupping the backs of his knees and keeping himself spread as Hannibal wets his rim, and pushes two fingers into him straight away, curling them up to brush against Will's prostate.
He jerks, choking on the cock, and Abigail pulls back with a soft sound of concern but Will chases her, opens his mouth wide and sucks her cock back into his mouth with a helpless moan. She shivers, pressing her lips together, and spreads her knees, moving so that she's settled on her heels comfortably at his side, tightens her grip, and gives a tentative little thrust.
Will moans around the cock in his mouth, his own erection twitching and leaking onto his stomach as Hannibal lets out a soft, pleased sound. "That's good," he murmurs, and adds a third finger, curling so his knuckles drag on in the inside of his rim, making him feel plugged and full. "He likes choking on a thick cock. Don't be shy."
Abigail's eyes flash again, and she reaches to firmly cup the back of Will's skull, holding him steady as she gently, slowly, pushes her cock deeper into his mouth. Will closes his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose, relaxing as habit and experience has taught him to do even when the head butts ungraciously against the back of his throat. He turns his head, gives a faint nod of encouragement as she cups her hands beneath his neck and moves so her slim thighs are framing his face, and his throat is open so that she can push as deep as she dares, until the balls of the dildo rut hard against his forehead.
He hears Hannibal let out a rough snarl, his fingers curling and tugging upwards, making Will arch and choke on the thick length plugging his throat. "That's a lovely sight," he snarls, and Will can't make a noise, dares not move too much in case he can't breathe right, but he lets one of his legs go, making sure he stays spread, and wraps his arm around Abigail's thigh gently, making her lift to her knees so his hand has enough room to slip between her thighs to the damp stretch of the harness fabric, where she's growing warm and slick.
He pushes the fabric to one side, seeking her entrance, and pauses when he feels another foreign piece of plastic, curling like a tongue, narrowed enough to press into her but also spread wide over her clit and lips. He lets out a soft, questioning sound, and hears her laugh.
"Will found my toy," she says, and Will feels Hannibal's hand go still as well.
"Oh?" he murmurs, and Will gasps as she pulls back, letting him breathe. His throat has already turned sore and he lets out a frantic little whine as he tugs at the harness, pulling it so it sits in the crease of her thigh, revealing a bright strip of thin, pink plastic. There's a little suction-like piece sitting over her clit, the rest of it smooth and wet, glistening with her slick, and curled into her. There's a button at the base of it, close to Will's mouth, so he leans up and curiously nudges it with his nose, grinning when it flicks on and starts to vibrate with a low purring sound.
Abigail moans, tightening her thighs around his head, and Hannibal grins widely as Will presses the saddle of his thumb against the vibrator, making sure she gets all the pressure and stimulation he can give. He pulls the harness back into place, noting that the base of the dildo cups the ridge of the vibrator perfectly. He might be able to feel it himself, if it is powerful enough, and his entire body clenches with anticipation.
Abigail notices, and looks down at him with a wide, proud smile, petting over the corners of his mouth and lifting to her knees again so her spit-wet cock drags over his cheek. Will parts his lips obediently, takes her back in with a rough moan and flutter of his lashes, as Hannibal pulls his fingers out.
The sound of his blood rushing in his ears is almost enough to cover the noises of Hannibal undressing, but Will has always been attuned to him, can imagine Hannibal carefully and slowly shedding his clothes, meticulous and deliberate in all things.
He moans weakly as Hannibal returns to him, big hands spreading out on Will's thighs and sliding up, fingers slipping between his behind his knee, other hand keeping him spread open and pinned. He reaches down to paw at Hannibal's other hand, spreading his own across it as Hannibal growls, and he feels his thick, leaking cockhead rub against his hole.
Abigail shivers, fucking gently into his mouth, and the dildo is so wide it's stretching Will's mouth, his jaw aches, and still he manages a weak little 'Please' when Hannibal teases him, smearing his cockhead through the lubricant, not pushing in.
He hears Hannibal laugh, and knows he's talking only to Abigail when he says; "He's an impatient little thing." His voice is soft, warm with pride, with pleasure. "Almost as insatiable as you, darling."
Abigail laughs, petting through Will's sweaty hair. "Don't tease us, daddy," she purrs.
"Never, my love," Hannibal replies, and if Will's mouth were free he'd call him on his bullshit – Hannibal loves teasing him, loves it when he can get Will wild and needy, desperately clinging and begging for his cock. Plugged and choking as he is, he can only whimper and arch up, nails tight in Hannibal's hands, and he gasps, gagging as Hannibal steadies himself and pushes all the way inside him in one smooth thrust.
Abigail pulls back as he heaves, jerking in pleasure as Hannibal fills him up all the way. Her cock slides from Will's mouth in a thick trail of spit and Will moans, lifting his head so he can see Hannibal's face, see how his lashes flutter in pleasure, his jaw clenches, teeth bared. Will tightens up around him and Hannibal snarls, sweat already gathered on his brow, shining on his shoulders. He looks so big, towering over both of them.
His eyes snap open, and lock with Will's. He looks so fucking predatory, like he'd willingly eat Will alive, and the look in his eyes is enough to make Will tense up, shivering with arousal, impatiently rocking his hips as much as he's able with Hannibal pinning him so well.
Hannibal's lips twitch in a smile, and he releases one of Will's legs and flattens his hand over his throat instead, squeezing gently as he starts to roll his hips. His rhythm isn't fast, but oh God, it's good, slow and deliberate, his thick cock dragging over Will's prostate with every single thrust. Will whimpers, dragging his nails down his own thigh, clenches his teeth as Hannibal fucks him and he tries to hold on.
Hannibal's eyes flash, well attuned to Will, to know when he's close and know when he's desperate. "He likes looking at me when I'm inside him," Hannibal murmurs, lifting his eyes to Abigail. Will can't look away from him – because Hannibal's right, Will loves looking at him when they fuck. He likes watching Hannibal's face, the roll of his shoulders, the flex of powerful muscles in his arms and stomach. Likes watching him darken, flush, shine with sweat. He spasms around Hannibal as Hannibal sinks into him, brushes every sensitive place inside him, moans weakly when Hannibal's hand flexes around his throat.
Above his head, he hears Abigail give a frantic little gasp, hears the wet sounds of her touching herself, the increased pitch of the vibrator as she flicks it up a setting and grinds against it. Hannibal's smile is wide, viscerally pleased, and he takes her free hand and presses it over Will's throat, covering it with his own, and oh God, getting choked by both of them as Hannibal fucks him and looks at him like that -.
"You're going to come, aren't you, darling?" Hannibal murmurs, and Will can only nod helplessly, because he is, he can't fucking help it. Hannibal tuts, falsely sympathetic. "Poor thing." Will whines as he releases Will's other leg, relying on Will to keep himself spread open, and he pinches one of Will's nipples roughly, the jolt of pain making him gasp and arch. His stomach feels tense and heavy, just waiting, waiting for that one little thing that will push him over the edge.
Abigail gasps, suddenly, her knees pulling together tightly around Will's shoulder and head as she comes, working her hand frantically beneath the harness, and Will groans, tipping his head back, nostrils flaring as he smells her, slick and musky. She collapses over him, braces her wet hand on his chest and squeezes his neck.
And then Hannibal lets go as well, wraps his hands around Will's hips to hold him still, and fucks him brutally. Will cries out, scrabbling for purchase, unable to keep his legs open so he wraps them high on Hannibal's chest, claws at his collarbones and neck as Hannibal leans forward and kisses Abigail over him. Will moans, panting, and feels his body tighten, bearing down savagely around Hannibal's cock as he comes, spurting thick and wet over his stomach and chest. Hannibal doesn't slow for a second, battering his prostate as Will finishes, until his cries dissolve into pathetic whimpers and he can't catch his breath without Hannibal's cock driving it back out of him.
Hannibal snarls, and leans down, grabbing Will's hair and kissing him fiercely as Will goes limp and lax around him, unable to do anything but lie there and take it as Hannibal fucks him. It's starting to hurt, his body far too sensitive to take such stimulation, but he knows better than to say so – Hannibal is a persistent hunter, and won't stop unless Will really means it; his paltry cries for relief and mercy will go unanswered, because they both know Will would happily take Hannibal as much as necessary to satisfy him.
Abigail's fingers rub through the mess on his stomach, and Will moans as the kiss ends and Hannibal's tongue is replaced by her fingers, thickly coated in both his come and hers. He sucks them down, curls up so Hannibal can fuck him deeper, rut as much as he likes, and he reaches up to paw at Abigail's shoulder, clinging to her as Hannibal uses him mercilessly. Until Will goes soft and all he can do is utter muffled, helplessly pleasured cries around her fingers.
Abruptly, Hannibal pulls out, making Will spasm and clench around nothingness. Hannibal is panting, and wipes his mussed hair from his brow, his cock a deep, deep red and leaking thickly onto the floor. "Abigail," he murmurs, "come here."
She pulls her fingers out and climbs off the bed, circling around to stand by his side. He smiles at her, and kisses her deeply, running a hand through her hair, before he takes her by the hips and positions her between Will's thighs. Will swallows, breathing hard, and manages to convince his shaking hands to lift his weak legs, spreading himself out again.
Hannibal gives him a warm, approving smile, and leans down to kiss Abigail's neck. "Are you ready, darling?" he murmurs, and she nods, breathing heavily from her own orgasm, her chest and neck deliciously flushed. Hannibal reaches down and takes her cock in hand, pushes her gently forward, and Will groans, head tipping back as he feels the unyielding, thick head of the fake cock slip past his fucked-out rim.
"Holy shit," he gasps, and growls loudly as Hannibal hums, easing more of her inside him. The veins catch and rut against Will's muscles, dragging over his battered prostate, and he feels every inch like they're in his throat. And then the fucking ridges – Will gasps again, arching and clawing at his own thighs as she ruts deep inside him, the ridges teasing at his rim, and when she pushes as deep into him as she can, he shudders, because he can feel her vibrator still going, sending little tingles all the way up his spine. "Oh my God, baby, fuck."
She moans in answer, dainty hands slipping over his sweaty flesh and grabbing the outside of his tense thighs. Will clenches up around the cock, relishing how much he can feel it, every little judder of the vibrator making it impossible to ignore the ridges and veins as they rub against his internal muscles. He's panting, soaked with sweat, shaking on the bed, and knows he's about two seconds away from losing his damn mind from the sensations.
Hannibal laughs, soft and low. "Go slowly at first," he murmurs to Abigail's hair, and she nods, Hannibal helping to hold Will still. Will forces himself to lift his head, to watch him help her roll her hips back and sink into him again. He grits his teeth, growling low. Abigail's eyes are dark, focused on where her cock is splitting Will wide, and she presses her lips together and lets Hannibal hold Will completely, drags her nails down the backs of his thighs and pushes her thumb along his perineum, forcing her cock to rut harshly against his prostate. Hannibal taught her that, Will is sure of it.
Will lets out a weak, ragged noise, dropping his head back to the bed again. His heart is racing, stomach tense, every nerve and muscle feels like it's being gnawed at by savage teeth. Abigail cups his balls in a gentle hand, shoves into him deep enough he can feel the vibrator again, and Will groans, pulling at his hair, arching his back as he succumbs to the urge to rut against her, despite the pain and how sensitive he is.
Hannibal lets out another hum, and forces her out of him, smiling smugly at the fractured cry Will lets out. "Get on your stomach," he commands, and Will winces, but obeys, rolling until he's pushed flat to the bed, his feet on the floor, hands bunching in the sheets. Hannibal only lingers long enough to put Abigail back inside him, and Will grits his teeth as he hears him tell her; "Go as hard as you like. He can take it."
Then, the bed dips, and Hannibal kneels in front of Will, hauls him up by his hair and feeds Will his cock as Abigail digs her nails into his hips, grunting with effort, and does just that. Will can't make a sound, since Hannibal immediately drives deep, tearing at his throat and making him choke on his own saliva. His grip in Will's hair is powerful, unmoving, as he holds Will still and slides closer, thighs tensing as he fucks Will's lax mouth. His other hand is wrapped tight around the base of his cock, staving his orgasm, and Will whimpers, reflexive tears welling in his eyes as he relaxes as he best he can, letting Hannibal use his throat.
It's all so much, just tonguing the border of too much – Abigail inside him feels amazing, her thick cock driving deep into Will and lighting up every sensitive place, especially when she ruts against him and he gets that fantastic vibration along the ridges of her cock against his rim. Then, Hannibal, snarling and fucking Will's throat like he's just a toy, something to be ridden hard and put away wet – Will clenches, whimpering harshly as Hannibal cups his neck, squeezing as he fucks in so he can feel how Will's throat bulges around his girth.
"Good boy," he breathes, and Will can't meet his eyes but he knows what Hannibal looks like when he's proud, when he likes what he's doing to Will. Will doesn't even bother trying to swallow his saliva; he's drooling openly, caking his mouth and his jaw and pooling around Hannibal's cock, knows only to keep his teeth sheathed and his throat open as Hannibal uses him.
Hannibal snarls, releasing his neck and dragging his nails down Will's heaving back as Abigail cries out, abruptly, fucks deep into him, her thighs shaking and pushing together as she comes against her little vibrator. She ruts against his ass in harsh judders, not unlike what Hannibal does when he comes inside Will, and the muscle memory, the sound of her loud moans, makes him tremble and arch beneath Hannibal's nails, desperately bearing both their weight.
Hannibal pulls out of his mouth with a snarl and Will coughs, hanging his head, groaning weakly as he's pulled forward by his hair and the grip on his back, made to fuck himself on Abigail's cock as she catches her breath. Hannibal's cock smears through his hair, leaks warm and slick against his nape, soaked with Will's saliva.
Hannibal pauses, and then hums almost to himself, and pushes up using his grip on Will's head, shoving him down to the bed. He moves off and Will moans weakly as he feels the cock sliding out of him, leaving him gaping and raw.
He hears them kissing, but can't lift his head to make himself look. Then, Hannibal's strong hands are pulling at his hips until he slides back from the bed, made to stand on unsteady feet. Through the haze greying out the edges of his vision, he sees Hannibal smile at him.
Hannibal grips his chin harshly, makes him shiver and whine as he's pulled against Hannibal's body, Abigail at his side. He kisses blindly, finds her hair and then her forehead and then her mouth, dropping a hand to rut the base of the dildo against her vibrator until she shudders and moans weakly against his lips.
Hannibal moves away from them, content to let Will touch her as her breathing hitches, her face goes slack as another wave of pleasure takes her, and then Will lifts his head when he hears the screech of a chair. Hannibal meets his eyes from the back of it, smiles at him, and then gestures for Will to take his place.
Will swallows, and goes to him, leading Abigail by the hand. "Cushion or floor?" he rasps, not at all surprised by how rough his voice is, delighted by the way Hannibal's eyes darken at the sound of it.
Hannibal's hands spread out wide on the back of the chair. "Kneel on the cushion," he replies, and Will nods, climbing onto it. It's lower than the bed, and a deep seat, meaning he can curl up against the chair and plant his knees close together, his ass sticking out and his shoulders rising high. "Come here, darling," Hannibal adds, and Will knows Hannibal isn't talking to him. He shivers, closing his eyes as Abigail steps up behind him, flattens her hands on his shoulders and ruts her cock between his thighs. "This angle will provide more stimulation for him. He may cry and try to get away, but you mustn't stop until I tell you, do you understand?"
Abigail lets out a breathless noise. "Yes daddy," she replies softly, and Will sighs as she leans down, covering him, mounting him properly, her lips dragging along his sweaty shoulders, her hands snaking down his flanks to grip his hips and hold him still. Just like daddy does – she learned this from Hannibal, too, Will would bet his life on it..
He reaches back and takes her cock in hand, helping her angle it right. It stings on entry, pushes his swollen and sensitive muscles apart, and for all her slim stature she's deceptively strong, snarling high and young and thrusting forcefully into him as soon as he manages to get the head inside.
Will howls, letting go of her cock and clawing at the chair instead. Hannibal's hand runs through his hair, makes him lift his head so Will can blink up at him, gasping as Abigail fucks freely, undoubtedly sensitive and chasing her own orgasm as she works the veins and ridges hard against Will's flesh.
Hannibal has crouched down, so their eyes are level, and Will can't look away. Their foreheads brush and Will growls, grabs Hannibal's strong shoulder and digs in with his nails as his body, given no other choice, starts to react to the sensations with pleasure, rather than pain. The noises he's making sound like he's been gargling glass, and he can't catch his fucking breath, and Abigail has clearly learned more than just how to take a cock because she's fucking him like her Goddamn life depends on it and it feels fucking fantastic.
Hannibal smiles, and kisses him chastely. "Louder, Will," he coaxes, and Will gasps, grips his cock with his free hand as it starts to harden, curled up over the chair and helpless but to obey.
Behind him, Abigail shrieks with pleasure again, rutting against him as she comes, and Will has lost count by now of how many times she has, but knowing she did just makes the ball of arousal tighten in his stomach, flex and grow fangs, biting the back of his neck.
He closes his eyes, moaning as she doesn't falter for a second – their ever-obedient, insatiable girl. "Fuck, baby," he growls, and Hannibal kisses him again in reward. "You feel so fuckin' good, keep goin'."
His hand tightens on his cock, stroking quickly in a counterrhythm to her erratic thrusts. He gasps as she bites down on his shoulder blade, and arches, seeking more. She traps a thick patch of skin between her teeth, kneading it until it blooms and bruises in her mouth.
Hannibal smiles. "He likes that, Abigail." In answer, she bites him again, and Will whimpers, gritting his teeth, gasping heavily. He subtly arches his hips, seeking that angle that -. Oh, fuck, yeah, right there. Hannibal's eyes flash as Will shudders, strokes himself faster, lit on fire from the pressure on his prostate and the heat blossoming beneath her teeth.
Hannibal takes one of her hands, lifts it to wrap around his neck, and Will shivers, tightens up, gripping her cock in fierce spasm. He's so close, he's so fucking close and it's going to hurt, he can tell it will, but she's not stopping, and he doesn't want her to stop.
She releases his flesh from her newest bite, yanks on his neck and lifts to her toes so she can whisper in his ear; "Be a good boy and come for me, Will."
Oh, fuck. She presses in as deep as she can, that fucking vibrator still going, the ridges of the base of the dildo sending shocks right up Will's spine. Hannibal rises and grips his hair tightly, keeping him down as he jolts and cries out weakly, coming over his thighs and the back of the chair. He has to let go of himself, can't bear to keep touching, and frantically reaches for her hand around his throat, pulling it down to rest above his heart so he can breathe.
The vibrator is still going and it hurts, now, he's trembling under her weight. He flinches, huffs a short, breathless gasp, and closes his eyes.
"Gently now, darling," Hannibal murmurs over the rush of blood in Will's ears. "Ease out of him. Good girl."
Will moans as she obeys, petting down his spine in a soothing touch before gripping her cock and pulling out. He gasps, still clenching up in rhythm as his orgasm tails off, a lingering pulse of heat in his body making his hands shake and his thighs tremble. He hears her shimmy out of the harness, the vibrator turning off, and manages to turn his head to see her set the whole contraption on the table.
Her hands return to him, warm and soothing, and she kisses over the marks she left as Hannibal pets through his hair. Will sighs, trying to recover quickly, because Hannibal hasn't come yet and Will would be a fool to think he intends to do it anywhere but inside him.
They kiss over his head, and Will whines, lifting up so he can steal Abigail's mouth, first, turning in the chair and cupping her face as she grins at him, eyes bright with satisfaction, cheeks red as the wine they drank at dinner.
"That was amazing," she tells him, and he gives her a tired smile, lashes fluttering as Hannibal tugs on his hair and claims his bruised mouth in another kiss. Abigail kisses his neck, his shoulders, his chest where his heart is still racing.
Hannibal smiles at him, brushing their noses together, and helps Will to his feet. "I know," he murmurs when Will gives a sleepy, fucked-out sound of protest, but lets himself be led with no complaint, back to the bed, spread out on his stomach. Abigail joins him, having shed her bra as well, and kisses Will as Hannibal straddles his thighs and spreads him open.
He pushes into Will, Will so open and lax he can't even clench up, and Will groans weakly, lifts his head and turns so he can kiss Hannibal as Hannibal covers him, uses him with lazy thrusts that make his entire body jerk with overstimulation. Hannibal doesn't last long – merciful, or perhaps just overwhelmed himself, he comes inside Will after a few moments, bites his sore lower lip as he does, emptying himself into Will's exhausted body.
He pulls out, kissing Will when he flinches, but remains on top of Will, and Will gathers Abigail into his arms, creating a domino cascade of bodies on the bed. He can feel Hannibal's come leaking out of him, and shivers, biting his lower lip as he watches Hannibal lift onto an elbow, and reach just enough that he can pull Abigail into a kiss.
Once it ends, she gasps, and smiles widely at both of them, idly petting through Will's hair as he nuzzles her shoulder and settles his arm around her waist.
"So how was that?" he murmurs, about two seconds away from sleep.
She laughs. "Fucking awesome," she replies, and Will's lips twitch in a tired smile, and he feels Hannibal's soft rumble of amusement against his back. She rolls onto her side and kisses Will's forehead, brushing his sweaty hair back from his neck. "I'm still tingling."
"Yeah," Will says. "Me too."
She giggles again, kissing him lightly. "I have another toy on the way. It vibrates, and has more bulbs and stuff, the website said it was really good for anal."
Will swallows, and huffs tiredly. "Monster," he murmurs, heavy with affection.
Behind him, Hannibal moves, and kisses beneath Will's ear. "She showed me all the things she ordered," he says, and Will swallows, forcing himself to open his eyes, though it takes a moment to focus on Abigail's face. "I don't think I'm wrong in saying you'll be thoroughly used by the time we've tried them all."
"Thoroughly," Abigail agrees, grinning.
Will rolls his eyes, but smiles, kissing her and then turning to kiss Hannibal as well. "And I'm the insatiable one," he teases, warmed by Hannibal's adoring smile and Abigail's light laugh. They don't reply, merely fall into place on either side of him, and Will sighs, settling down with his nose in Abigail's hair, Hannibal cradling him in his warm embrace. Abigail's hand flattens on Will's hip, fingers of her other hand curling between Hannibal's over Will's heart.
Will, predictably, falls asleep first, but he's sure they both follow along soon after.