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“You want to do what to Shizun?”
Luo Binghe stared at his double with a mixture of disbelief and passionate fury, two pairs of cold, red eyes boring into each other. Bingge folded his arms over his chest, lip curling into a smirk as he eyed Luo Binghe slowly up and down. Bingge’s gaze said that he found his alternate self wanting, but Luo Binghe knew that it was his weaker self who wanted — passionately so. And Luo Binghe knew why. He reveled in it. He had no sympathy with his Shizunless self.
Bingge straightened up and the empty chasm of the dreamscape melted away. Their surroundings shifted into a recreation of the bamboo house. The bed lay neatly made, the low table set out for tea, everything exactly as he’d left it when he’d fallen asleep and Luo Bingge had slipped into his dream.
“You. Me. Shen Qingqiu. Use your imagination, I know you have one.”
“I don’t share,” Luo Binghe snapped. Shen Qingqiu was his. His Shizun, his husband, his to hold, care for, and fuck.
Bingge cocked his head, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Some things don’t change I suppose.”
Luo Binghe turned to leave, about to dissolve the dreamscape and then ruthlessly crush however Bingge had got in and keep him as far away from Shizun as possible, when Bingge added: “You might want to reconsider, though.”
Horror and fury bloomed in Luo Binghe’s chest when he turned back. The tea set on the table was gone, the furniture now populated with lewd visions of Shen Qingqiu and two versions of himself. A dream Shizun was bent over the table with one Luo Binghe in front of him and one behind. On the floor Shizun bounced on Bingge’s cock while enthusiastically sucking down a standing Luo Binghe’s length. When Luo Binghe turned away from the sight with disgust he was confronted by Shen Qingqiu spread out on the bed, Bingge brutally fucking his ass while Luo Binghe pounded his spread pussy.
“Stop it,” Luo Binghe snarled. His hands curled into fists within his sleeves, a shameful heat stirring in his gut. The dreamscape was filled with the muted sounds of Shen Qingqiu moaning, the slick sucking of his wet holes, choking and slurping as he hungrily swallowed down the Heavenly Pillar.
“What are you afraid of? That your Shizun will see how you pale in comparison and realise what’s good for him? I know all about your performance,” Bingge taunted, a sadistic, gleeful light shining in his eyes. Loathing crawled under Luo Binghe’s skin. He swallowed down the frisson of panic that ran through him at Bingge’s words.
“Shizun enjoys this disciple’s performance,” he said simply, rousing himself to confidence. Luo Binghe’s learning curve had been steep but fruitful, and he had the evidence of hundreds of frantic, passionate nights to show for it.
He didn’t miss how Bingge twitched at the way he addressed himself. The other version of him tensed briefly, so briefly that anyone else would have missed it if they weren’t as intimately acquainted with Luo Binghe as Luo Binghe was with himself. Then Bingge shrugged it off, strolling easily through the changes in conversation and casually deflecting Luo Binghe’s protests.
“If you’re so sure that Shen Qingqiu won’t have anything to envy, then why not try it? You’ll like it. I’d know. You’re me, after all.” Bingge grinned at a particularly loud moan from one of the dream Shizuns. “If you don’t enjoy it I’ll leave and never come back. You won’t see me again. Doesn’t that sound nice and fair?”
Luo Binghe sneered. “Shizun will never go for it.”
Bingge smiled indulgently. The dream threesomes melted into wisps of smoke.
“Why don’t we ask him?”
Shen Qingqiu did, to Luo Binghe’s endless disbelief, go for it.
Luo Binghe’s fingers dug painfully into his thigh as Shen Qingqiu let out a sensual sigh, voice thick and laden with arousal. Bingge’s hands threaded into his hair and held him fast as he slipped his tongue into Shen Qingqiu’s mouth and made him suck, soft whimpers and moans and puffs of hot breath falling from Shizun’s puffy, kiss-swollen lips.
Luo Binghe settled behind Shen Qingqiu on the bed, hands falling onto his waist. His chest was tight and raw at the sight of another man touching Shizun, kissing Shizun — but it was also him, and the sight of Shizun panting into his own mouth made him throb with excitement. Shen Qingqiu hummed when he felt a second set of hands on him, breaking the kiss to lean his head back against Luo Binghe’s shoulder.
“Binghe,” he sighed longingly, talking to both and neither of them at once. Luo Binghe bristled when Bingge’s leg nudged his own, glaring over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder into heated red eyes blazing with desire. Luo Binghe peeled away the last of Shen Qingqiu’s robes, already askew from Bingge’s wandering hands, and revealed his slender, willowy frame and pale skin to two sets of hungry eyes.
Luo Binghe moved first, drawing Shen Qingqiu into his arms possessively and loosening his robes so that they were skin to skin. He laved at the delicate porcelain of Shen Qingqiu’s exposed throat, tasting the racing pulse there before sucking and nibbling a livid, purple bruise. Bingge kissed his way down Shen Qingqiu’s chest, little whimpers escaping the latter’s lips as Bingge sucked on his pert nips and swirled his tongue over the tiny, silver crescent scars that circled them.
Bingge caught Luo Binghe’s eye with a flash of sensual intent as he moved down Shen Qingqiu’s stomach. Luo Binghe’s hand settled on Shen Qingqiu’s hip and held him fast as, in one smooth motion, his double relieved him of his trousers and dived headfirst between his legs.
“Unh!” Shen Qingqiu cried, arching beautifully. His double’s palms slipped under Shen Qingqiu’s thighs and hoisted him up, pushing him into Luo Binghe’s lap until his squirming ass was torturously nudging against his cock. Bingge lapped and sucked at his cunt with fervour, his fingers plunging into his pussy while Luo Binghe slid his hands along the inside Shen Qingqiu’s thighs and held him open for Bingge’s probing tongue.
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu slurred, head lolling back against Luo Binghe’s shoulder. The two Binghes moaned appreciatively. Luo Binghe caught Shen Qingqiu’s lips in a slick, open-mouthed kiss, his face already slack and blissed out from Bingge’s eager attention. The sound of his pussy being fucked by talented fingers was driving Luo Binghe insane. Every time Shen Qingqiu rolled his hips to meet Bingge’s tongue his ass ground against Luo Binghe’s pillar, still maddeningly trapped under layers of clothing.
“Ah, ahhh — fuck, that’s — Bing— haa, mmnnn, that’s good…” Shen Qingqiu babbled, Bingge’s head bobbing between his legs. Luo Binghe’s mouth watered, craving that taste that he knew so well.
Bingge pulled off Shen Qingqiu’s little cock with a pop when his legs started to shudder, smacking his lips together. He gripped the back of Shen Qingqiu’s head roughly and shoved his tongue into his mouth, gagging him on it and feeding him the taste of himself. Luo Binghe rested his head against Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder, shivering with desire so heady and raw that it ached under his skin; replaced the blood in his veins and the breath in his lungs.
“What are you doing?” Luo Binghe said abruptly, warningly, when Bingge shuffled in between Shen Qingqiu’s legs and swiftly divested himself of his robes. His cock — Luo Binghe’s cock — their cock stood hard and proud and huge, pointing directly at Shen Qingqiu’s cunt. Luo Binghe balked at the intent in his gaze.
“What does it look like?” Bingge snapped. Luo Binghe’s qi flared dangerously, filling the room with oppressive energy.
Shen Qingqiu murmured softly in protest. “Don’t fight,” he pleaded weakly, writhing between them as his two disciples turned their attention away from him.
“Shizun is mine,” Luo Binghe insisted. There was absolutely no way Bingge was fucking Shizun’s pussy. The fog of arousal burned away in an instant, replaced with potent, fervid rage.
“Are you serious? Shen Qingqiu has an assortment of holes to choose from. Does it matter what goes where?”
“Yes.” Luo Binghe knew that Shizun was far gone by the fact that he didn’t squawk and complain at Bingge’s indifferent vulgarity. Luo Binghe had to defend Shizun’s better interests if he was too clouded by lust to do it himself. It was understandable, given that he was wedged between two Luo Binghes.
His qi flared again, thick tendrils of black, tangible energy emanating from his body. The two stared each other down for a long, tense moment. Shen Qingqiu sniffled and rocked between them against empty air, searching for stimulation. Bingge finally shrugged, sitting back on his knees.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
I will, Luo Binghe thought, petulant and triumphant. He gathered Shen Qingqiu more fully into his arms, caressing his bare torso and chest, then carefully manoeuvred him until they were face to face. Shen Qingqiu’s enraptured expression, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, made his heart squeeze. He cradled Shen Qingqiu’s face with both hands and kissed him softly, close-mouthed and tender. Shizun moaned and ground against the tent in his robes.
“Are you two done?” Bingge said irritably, rolling his eyes. He gave Luo Binghe a rough shove over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder and then pulled Shen Qingqiu onto his knees by his hips when the master and disciple pair fell back against the bed.
Luo Binghe ignored him and the urge to snap that swept through him like a flash flood, electing instead to shimmy out of his trousers. He grunted through gritted teeth when his cock bounced free of his clothes and slapped heavily against the little pouch of Shen Qingqiu’s tummy. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes eagerly roamed his bare torso, Luo Binghe’s robes barely hanging onto his shoulders. In this position Bingge was totally blocked from his gaze; his view was filled only with Shen Qingqiu, with flushed cheeks and puffy pink lips and shy, dancing eyes.
There was a pop and a wet sound from somewhere behind. Luo Binghe realised what it was just before Shen Qingqiu’s face twisted into a perfect ‘o’, his brow furrowing and his perfect lips parting with delight.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe breathed, marvelling at his beauty. A daring, thrilling idea occurred to him. He brushed two fingers against Shen Qingqiu’s lips and shuddered when they parted easily and sucked them in. His husband was normally so flustered and reticent, but he didn’t even offer Luo Binghe his customary token refusal this time — instead the long, elegant fingers of a guqin player wrapped around Luo Binghe’s wrist and held his hand steady while his tongue licked and swirled around his fingers like they were his cock.
Said cock jumped and leaked, pining for its master. Luo Binghe’s breath rattled in his chest while Shen Qingqiu went down on his fingers to the obscene sounds of Bingge fingering his ass open.
He pulled out of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth with a pop, a string of saliva hanging like spun silk between them before finally breaking. He reached down and rolled the nub of Shen Qingqiu’s cock between wet fingers, drinking in the way that Shen Qingqiu’s eyes rolled back while Luo Binghe jerked him. He teased the tip of a finger around the rim of Shen Qingqiu’s cunt and dipped in lightly, but confined himself to stroking his folds and playing with his cock. Luo Binghe wanted that pussy tight. He knew how much — in spite of his loud protests — Shen Qingqiu relished the savage burn of being filled on the first thrust.
The weight on the bed changed, Bingge of playing with Shen Qingqiu’s ass and lining himself up. One hand firmly gripped his slender waist. Shen Qingqiu pitched forward and moaned, deep and throaty and guttural, against his husband’s chest.
Luo Binghe buried his face in his fine, silky hair, floral and citrusy. It was strange hearing himself fuck his husband before he’d even fully touched his cock. Bingge groaned freely, loudly, as he quickly picked up a punishing pace, his strokes brutal and deep. Luo Binghe didn’t have to see to know how his heavy balls were slapping Shen Qingqiu’s pussy, how Shen Qingqiu’s ass and thighs jiggled with the force of his thrusts, how his pillar stretched Shen Qingqiu’s puckered little hole until it was red and raw. He’d been there many times; he could see it when he closed his eyes.
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu slurred into his ear, his jaw slack against Luo Binghe’s neck. “What are you waiting for? I need— I need…”
On another night, Luo Binghe would have been happy to push Shen Qingqiu to beg; to coax and prompt him to vocalise what he wanted amidst slapping hands and furious blushes and mortified eyes. Tonight he shushed Shen Qingqiu softly, hyper-aware of an unwelcome presence in the room.
Shizun’s begging was for him only. He shouldn’t debase himself in front of such useless trash.
Luo Binghe reached down to grip himself firmly, biting the inside of his cheek to summon a flare of grounding pain. Bingge’s thrusts were jolting Shen Qingqiu back and forth, rubbing his stomach against Luo Binghe’s cock which smeared a broad wet streak across his skin. Shen Qingqiu sobbed and jolted when Luo Binghe’s thick length bumped his cock while he blindly positioned himself. The blunt head rubbed back and forth across Shen Qingqiu’s slick hole. Luo Binghe relished the way his entrance pulsed, greedily searching for the warm comfort of his pillar and desperate to be full.
Shen Qingqiu’s arms snaked around his shoulders and held him crushingly tight. His nails ghosted lightly over Luo Binghe’s skin. He gasped brokenly, hoarsely, when Luo Binghe fucked in to the hilt and hit home, the full length of his cock buried in Shizun’s warm, tight pussy. Velvet walls clutched and fluttered deliciously around him. Luo Binghe peppered encouraging kisses along the long, pale column of Shizun’s swan-like neck but spared him no time to acclimate, pulling out until only the tip of his cock caught on Shen Qingqiu’s rim and then slamming in deeply again. The two Binghes fell into an easy rhythm, the bedroom filled with nothing but the sound of skin clapping against skin and Shen Qingqiu’s wretched cries.
Luo Binghe moaned freely as he fucked Shizun’s pussy raw. Down the long, slim line of his back he could see Bingge’s thrusting hips, his thickly muscled torso, the long shock of black, curly hair. The two locked eyes, glowering at each other with killing intent. Then Bingge leaned forward, draping himself over Shen Qingqiu’s back until they were flush together.
He captured Luo Binghe’s chin with one hand, gazed boldly, intolerably, into his eyes, and roughly took his mouth.
Luo Binghe balked. Bingge surged forward, pressing all three of them into the bed. Shen Qingqiu was helplessly sandwiched between them, face buried in Luo Binghe’s neck and able to do nothing but take the harsh, unforgiving fuck. Bingge’s kiss was rough this time, nothing like how he’d kissed Shen Qingqiu; he kissed like he was asserting dominance, biting Luo Binghe’s lips and devouring his air. Luo Binghe angrily knocked Bingge’s hand away with a snarl and kissed back, all sharp teeth and bruising lips and tongue.
Luo Binghe’s qi flared again as the two clashed. He tasted blood. He didn’t know whose it was.
Bingge pulled back suddenly, his lips unnaturally red. He grinned widely and swiped his tongue over his split lower lip, cleaning it of blood. Fresh, red droplets welled up to replace it. Luo Binghe resisted the urge to lick them off.
Bingge unceremoniously pulled out of Shen Qingqiu’s ass, his cock deep red, thickly veined and glistening. He cocked an eyebrow at Luo Binghe that said ‘keep up.’ Luo Binghe deeply regretted not biting his tongue clean off.
“Fuck,” Luo Binghe hissed. Shen Qingqiu clenched tightly around him now that one of his holes was empty. Luo Binghe gave his plump ass a firm squeeze with both hands, the skin hot under his palms from Bingge’s careless attentions, and ground against his weeping pussy deeply before lifting him off his cock.
“What are you doing? I didn’t tell you to stop,” Shen Qingqiu snapped at them. The authoritative air that he tried to convey was ruined by the breathy, frustrated cadence of his voice and the way his chest heaved for air. Bingge gathered him up into his arms and deposited him, with a crow of surprise and indignation, on the low table in the centre of the room. He settled on his knees by Shen Qingqiu’s head, the latter’s legs and hips hanging off the edge of the table.
“Only one position? Shen Qingqiu, we have the whole night,” Bingge purred. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes flew wide with outrage at the intimate use of his name and Luo Binghe choked on violence. Both of them were cut off by the sight of Bingge stroking himself from root to tip and rolling his balls in one hand.
“What are you waiting for?” he drawled at Luo Binghe who was still lying where Shen Qingqiu had been taken from him, dick pointing to the ceiling, tragically bereft of Shizun’s pussy. He pushed himself off the bed and joined them at the table. Shen Qingqiu watched, transfixed, as Bingge’s hand worked his length, lips slightly parted. His legs fell open automatically for his husband to slide between them. Luo Binghe had to close his eyes tight and clench his jaw at the sight of the mess he’d made there. The delicate folds of his labia were messy like crushed flower petals, the dark hair of his mound and the insides of his thighs soaking wet.
“Unh, you feel so good…” Luo Binghe moaned appreciatively as he slipped easily back inside Shen Qingqiu’s hole. “ ...Husband,” he added, a sadistic thrill running through him at the way Bingge’s face twisted. With a firm grip on Shen Qingqiu’s hips he began fucking in and out, slow and deep. Every stroke was exquisite, soft and sultry, Shen Qingqiu’s pussy tight and snug like a well-fitted glove. Having Bingge watching made it better. Luo Binghe didn’t need hundreds of wives or a harem full of concubines to be satisfied when he had Shizun writhing underneath him, Shizun’s delectable cunt squeezing around his cock and milking orgasm after orgasm from of him until his pussy was white and sticky.
Luo Binghe abruptly changed his mind when Bingge took hold of Shen Qingqiu’s chin. At first he seemed content simply to stroke himself over Shen Qingqiu’s face, a sight both arousing and enraging — then he moved closer, rubbing the tip over Shizun’s pink, pouting lips. Luo Binghe reared instantly. He fell impossibly still when Shizun’s lips parted obediently for Bingge to slide right in, stuffing his mouth full until he choked. Shen Qingqiu moaned wantonly, Bingge’s balls brushing his nose and forehead.
“That’s…” Luo Binghe said, wide-eyed. He wet his lips. Bingge grinned with bloody lips and pressed in deeper until Shen Qingqiu gagged. Luo Binghe gripped his husband’s hips tightly, too tightly, watching the Heavenly Pillar disappear into his mouth and create a noticeable bulge down his throat.
“He takes it so well. You have him well-trained,” Bingge said, appraising Luo Binghe appreciatively for the first time. One hand gently stroked the bulge in Shen Qingqiu’s distended throat. He gave a few shallow thrusts. Shen Qingqiu slurped loudly around his cock and breathed heavily, lips stretched thin around his massive girth. Drool spilled from the corners of his mouth and streamed down his face.
"Shizun doesn’t like it too rough,” Luo Binghe corrected him tersely.
Bingge’s appreciative glance twisted back into a more familiar sneer, distorting their attractive features into something hostile and ugly. "You don't even know what your Shizun looks like when he's gagging to be fucked. Isn't that a bit too pathetic? Can you at least save me some face if you're going to use it?"
This is my face, Luo Binghe thought. My face, and my husband. "I can certainly save you some trouble and send you back where you came from," Luo Binghe said darkly. "I've seen that trash world of yours, the one without a Shizun in it."
A flash of something wounded and violent crossed Bingge’s face, flitting under the mask like the flickering, fleeting shadows cast by candlelight. He gripped Shen Qingqiu by the throat and shoved himself as deeply as he could go, his entire length consumed by Shen Qingqiu’s shiny lips. One slim, pale hand landed on his thigh. Shen Qingqiu gulped loudly.
“Shut up and do what you’re good for,” he hissed, never breaking eye contact.
Luo Binghe eased his grip on Shen Qingqiu’s hips. Pale marks flared where his fingers had been, quickly deepening to rosy red. He seriously considered wrapping those fingers around Bingge’s throat instead. Shizun hummed around his mouthful when Luo Binghe began leisurely thrusting again and Bingge’s eyes fluttered at the sensation. His thighs ached from kneeling on the floor. He looked down at where his cock was stretching Shizun’s pussy wide and fucking him open, obscenely full. When he sank in, slowly, teasingly, Shizun’s belly bulged with the pure size of it.
Luo Binghe’s breath stuttered on his lips as he reverently placed his palm on Shen Qingqiu’s abdomen and felt his own cock nudging from underneath. Something deep in his gut twisted and tightened, smouldering embers erupting into towering flame and he knew, then, that he wasn’t going to last much longer.
Shen Qingqiu gulped and gagged around where Bingge was stuffing his throat. Bingge had a hand wrapped around him, squeezing at the point where Shen Qingqiu’s throat bulged and cutting off his air.
“You’re hurting him,” Luo Binghe protested.
“He wants to be hurt,” Bingge said, rolling his eyes. His grip around Shen Qingqiu’s throat tightened. Shen Qingqiu choked wetly, but the fingers clamped around Bingge’s thigh were digging deeply into tight muscle rather than pushing him away. Luo Binghe faltered, paralysed halfway between panic and blinding arousal.
“Mmnf, mmm,” Shen Qingqiu sniffled, tears pouring from his eyes and drool from his mouth. He bobbed his head the best he could, sucking ardently while Bingge fucked his face and his balls rubbed against his nose. Luo Binghe throbbed fiercely at the sight and threw caution to the wind, hoisting Shen Qingqiu’s legs around his hips and drilling into him savagely. Shen Qingqiu’s muffled moans became louder, more earnest, as he swallowed Bingge down, every sound spurring his two lovers on until they were slamming into him from either end.
Luo Binghe fucked with abandon, the waves of pleasure that swamped his lower body and encircled his core rising like the oncoming tide. He dipped his fingers into Shizun’s wetness and alternated between roughly circling and jerking his dick. Shen Qingqiu’s moans turned to hoarse screams, bucking against Luo Binghe’s fingers and cock wildly as his cunt throbbed and pulsed around him. Luo Binghe’s head spun to the decadent, degraded sounds of rapture spilling uncontrollably from himself, his double, and Shen Qingqiu.
“Shizun! Shizun!” he cried, slamming into him one more time, clinging to his hips as he grappled for just one more inch, one more centimetre of closeness and searing, grasping heat. Bingge fell not far behind, growling through a powerful orgasm, the magnificent, cut lines of his musculature stark and straining as he went rigid. The two of them filled Shen Qingqiu to the brim, painting his pussy and throat with hot ropes of cum that spilled past his lips in a delicious mess. The two of them watched his throat contracting around the fat head of Bingge’s dick as he swallowed as much of it as he could.
Luo Binghe grunted and held his Shizun fast as his legs trembled and he spasmed around him, Shen Qingqiu’s tight hole slamming down on his husband’s pillar so strongly that it felt as if he would never let him go. Luo Binghe leaned forward to tenderly lick and caress his chest as he came around the two cocks filling him. Bingge pulled out of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth in a flood of unswallowed cum and Luo Binghe felt his soul ascend.
“Fuuuuck,” Bingge drawled at the sight of him. Luo Binghe concurred. He lovingly caressed the bulge in Shizun’s belly before also pulling out, his cock softening slowly. Shen Qingqiu’s pussy gaped from the rough fuck and cum seeped from his hole, trickling down his thigh. His face was a mess of cum and drool and tears, bright red from struggling to breathe. He looked debased, utterly ruined. He looked well-fucked.
“Told you he’d like it,” Bingge said smugly. Luo Binghe ignored him. He had no attention to spare for his own posturing when Shizun was in such a delicate state.
“Shizun?” Luo Binghe murmured softly. “Are you alright?”
Shen Qingqiu let out a small whimper in response. Bingge pushed away from the moment of intimacy like he’d been burned and began perfunctorily cleaning himself up, sparing not a glance for the married pair. Shen Qingqiu’s arms and legs were all askew. He lay boneless on the table as cum and lube dribbled from his holes, his eyes barely open but far away. Luo Binghe laced their fingers together and stroked his thumb over Shizun’s knuckles comfortingly while he waited for his faculties to come back.
When he looked up, Bingge was haphazardly slipping himself back into his robes off in the corner of the room. His eyes caught Luo Binghe’s for a long second, his expression glacial, before he slipped from the room without a word and disappeared.
Luo Binghe reached over to gently stroke his knuckles across Shizun’s insensible cheek, then carefully gathered him up in his arms and headed for the bath.