Fan Fiction Friday: The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in “Just Like Them”

I will admit you guys were right about last week’s FFF. Frankly, this week’s episode of Heroes was more sexually charged than most hardcore pornography, so I can see your point that the story of Nathan fucking Peter while he fucks Claire is a little… humdrum. So I invite you to read this week’s FFF installment, which begins, I shit you not, like this:

“C’mon Leo, it’s my turn! Hurry!” Mikey called, shifting impatiently from foot to foot, the others agreeing.

“Not done.” Leo muttered, his hands gripping tighter on Raph’s hips as he pulled him closer to his groin, pushing deeper inside.

Raph mewled around the gag, his tied hands flexing behind his back.
That was just like Leo. He was a very thourough lover, never stopping
till he brought everything to the end. At the same time the authority
he carried within himself during the day rose even higher near the
surface in this kind of encounters – everything had to be at his speed,
at his cue. Most of the times Leo refused to let him cum till he was
close to begging. Thankfully he always brought him over the edge before
that level was reached. But when that happened, the orgasm seemed much
more satisfying, in a way.

With a final hard thrust, Leo’s seed filled him, the older terrapin
groaning softly. He pulled out moments later, pressing a firm kiss to
the side of the gagged mouth, then stepped back with a satisfied smirk.

Raph closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, calming down
his heart beat. He shifted his hips, the cock-ring tight around his
engorged flesh.

No edits. Plenty of fluids. We have only just begun, my friends. We have only just begun.

Suddenly, gentle hands pressed briefly against his cheeks, pulling the
gag down, then moving lower, rolling him onto his side, and swiftly
untying his hands.

Raph murmured approvingly at that, bringing his hands forward so he
could rub the circulation back into his wrists. Meanwhile, the
olive-green hands moved to his legs, urging the upper one to bend
forward and up slightly, so that the other could slip inside. Before
that though, thick fingers pressed gently against his opening, checking
for abrasions and the such. The movement caused a soft inviting mewl to
leave the younger terrapin’s throat, and then the other was pushing

Raphael sighed at the slow entry, turning his head to the side slightly
so that he could smile at his immediate older brother. Donatello
returned the expression, then started moving in slow thrusts, at the
same time running his hands over his sensitive sides.

Just like Donny. Always gentle, always making sure Raph was comfortable
first, never rough or abrupt, thrusting in slow and deep. That didn’t
mean he wasn’t passionate, though. He could still remember the times
Donny, still gentle and with a soft smile, spent the entire night
screwing his brains out. When one go finished, he’d rub his shaking
limbs, roll him into another position (most often without even pulling
out), then start all over again. Walking was never harder than after
those times. Keeping the smug grin off his face was a hard feat too.

When Donny came, he pulled out as slowly as he had entered, rubbing the
puckered opening one last time. He leaned over the emerald frame, and
pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, before patting his cheek and
moving back to stand next to Leo.

You hear me people? You complain about Fan Fiction Friday, I will find stories about Donatello rubbing Raphael’s anus. Do not fuck with me. Next turtle up!

This time Raph barely had even a moment of break before another warm
body fell on him. And fell literally, as in jumping up with a shout of
“Finally!!” and landing atop him.

Raph chuckled, flexing his body in such a way they rolled to the side,
effectually reversing their positions. The older terrapin smirked at
his pinned brother, then started grinding their hips together.

Mikey gave a shudder, then grinned widely.

“I’m gonna get me some!” he sing-songed, grabbing hold of the other’s
hips and pulling him closer, thrusting upwards. Raph moaned, then
reached behind himself, guiding his little brother to his entrance. He
braced his free hand on one ocean-green shoulder, and groaned low in
his throat when Mikey found the angle enabling him to enter. Which he
did, giving a loud squee of pleasure when his immediate older brother
started pulling himself up and down over his flesh.

Just like Mikey. Raph was willing to bet some heavy money that his
littlest brother couldn’t be serious in any situation, life-and-death
included. It just wasn’t in his nature. The youngest of the Clan needed
to be teasing, joking, playing – he wouldn’t be himself otherwise. Like
now – giggling, teasing his neglected organ, tickling his sides. All
was play in Mikeyland, even in the middle of getting laid. It was cute,
in an annoying kinda way.

When the ocean-green rod gave a sputter and errupted inside him, Raph
pulled himself off his brother, nuzzling their beaks affectionately
before moving to the side completely. Mikey just grinned at him,
leaning forward to place a loud smack to his cheek, then got up onto
unsteady feet, staggering towards his two oldest bros.

Boy,  author madwriter sure has his ninja turtles’ personalities down pat. I have no doubt that were there to have been an episode of TMNT where all the turtles fuck Raphael in the ass, Michelangelo would be the most rambunctious about it.  Why, I’m surprised “Mikey” didn’t let loose a happy “Cowabunga!” after he came in his turtle brother’s rectum! It would be so like him!

Raph took a moment to simply breathe. His tail twitched from time to
time, the semen gathered within tickling the sensitive skin as it
leaked out. His insticts told him someone was coming closer, and he
smirked, bending his knees and spreading his legs, flicking his tail to
the sides invitingly.

You brought this upon yourselves, people. Don’t ever sass me again. All right, we’re out of Turtles. I guess the story’s almost ov–

As expected, callous hands grasped the little appendage, pumping it slowly.

Raphael gave a shudder, the rolled onto his plastron, lifting himself
onto all fours. He lowered his upper body slightly, and rocked his hips
from side to side.

He heard a dark chuckle behind him, then hands grasped him by the
shoulders, pulling him upright. Strong limbs circled his plastron,
pressing him to a warm chest while a hard shaft slid into him, waiting
a moment before moving. Raph gave a low moan, then lifted his own arms,
wrapping them around the human’s neck.

So like Casey. His best bud and the only other hothead like him in the
entire city.

The Search for Splinter 7.jpgWhat a twist!

The first human he trusted with his whole being, both with
watching his back in a brawl and hanging out with. But the best part
about Casey was that, whatever they were doing, the human never made
him feel anything other than equal. Riding their bikes, drinking beer,
watching TV or cooking – they both would be doing that, no matter what.
Even during sex – if they were laying, they both were laying. If
sitting, they both were sitting. If they were kneeling, they both were
kneeling. Sure, it cut down the number of positions, but hell. With
Casey it was never about domination or such crap – it was just two buds
getting some action. He was abso-fuckin’-lutely fine with that.

With a well placed hard thrust into him, Casey came, groaning. Raph
gave a soft mewl at the light kiss pressed into the side of his neck,
then slowly sat on his heels after the human pulled out, moving to
stand next to the other brothers.

How about one more for the road, people?

Raphael panted heavily, his own turtlehood throbbing with denied need.
He shifted his hips, hissing quietly when his overworked hole gave its
own throb at the movement. The sensations were slowly nearing
uncomfortable, but for now, they were sensual enough for him to cuss
himself out for agreeing to wear the damn cock-ring.

Large hands cupped his sides, lifting him and placing him on a
rust-coloured lap. Raph sighed, shifting till he was facing the other’s
front, pressing his face into a wide chest, and breathing in the
Triceraton’s heavy musk. The other allowed it, running soothing hands
over his carapace before gently lifting him onto a large organ.

Huh. You know, I can’t tell if I’m more relieved or confused that Splinter isn’t in this.

Raph groaned. Even after all the other’s, he felt himself be stretched
even more, a small sting added to the soreness. A deep voice murmured
calming nothings into his ear, and Raphael smiled, his body relaxing
almost automatically. They were still for a few moments, then the
terrapin settled his feet against the ground, lifting himself slightly,
the large hands aiding him in the small movements.

So like Traximus. Despite his size, he was never rough with him. Always
patient, loving, gentle to the extent it sometimes shocked the young
turtle. It was sometimes bizzarre – a creature, in comparison to which
he was trully tiny, handling him as he was made of fine, delicate
china. During sparing they usually would beat the spit out of each
other, but when the large hands wrapped around his carapace as a thick
organ thrust its way into his body, it was like this – hard and fast,
at the same time gentle. Despite hips slamming into his own with brutal
force, Trax never left bruises on his skin. Satisfying as Shell, but
Raph sometimes liked to have marks left on him.

It made it so much easier to remember.

Which is good, because I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sodomized by an anthropomorphic dinosaur and forgotten all about it. Still, now everybody has been sexually satisfied except for Raphael. Now, that doesn’t seem fair, and that’s not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle way!

Trax came, and slowly urged the terrapin to lift up and off his flesh.
He pressed a soft kiss to the younger male’s brow, then, instead of
setting him down and stepping aside like the rest, turned him around
and settled him comfortably in his lap onve again, Raph mewling in weak
protest when he was once again left unfullfilled.

The other’s came closer to them at that, and suddenly it was five sets
of hands trailing across flushed emerald skin, teasing, caressing,
bringing him even closer to the edge he was still unable to cross.

Then (finally) nimble hands undoed the damn cock-ring, and the terrapin
cried out loudly as he came, five rounds of satisfying incompletion
pouring out of him.

The hands turned soothing, bringing him slowly down from the high he
was worked into. Raph sighed heavily, sleepily, leaning back against
the warm chest behind him, too tired to squirm from the hands still
sliding across his skin. Five kisses from five different lips were
pressed against his own, and he smiled, golden eyes sliding closed.

He was so not walking in the nearest future.

Get it? Get it? It’s because three turtles, one human and one triceratops-alien had all fucked him in the ass. It makes walking uncomfortable for him. It was a little subtle, so I thought I’d help spell it out.

This is the whole story, and I made no cuts at all, so clearly it is supposed to stand on its own merits. Here’s my challenge to you: Explain what the living fuck the title is is supposed to refer to. I’ll be off drinking heavily and refusing to look my cat in the eye.