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With a loud grunt and a sharp clang, a Pokémon trainer re-racked his weights upon the bar, sitting up and rubbing his shoulders. Reaching a hand out, a small towel was soon handed to him, and he rubbed it across his sweaty face, sighing out with exhaustion. The cloth came back damp, and rubbing his eyes a bit, the rather buff male looked up to the one who had given him the towel--a rather large and imposing Tyranitar.

"Ah, thanks Terra," grunted that trainer, giving a stretch of his arms across his chest, hearing a soft pop and crack from his shoulder from it. "Some work-out today, huh? I'm pretty beat..." he muttered, whipping the towel around the back of his neck, letting its ends rest against his chest. His shirt clung to a pair of muscular pectorals, both from the tightness of that stretch-focused athletic shirt, and the dampness of the sweat-logged material. "You and Drago can finish up on your own--I'm gonna take a quick shower," said the male.

The Tyranitar gave a low roar under his breath, nodding at his trainer as the well-muscled male left for the showers by the locker-room. There wasn't much for a Pokémon to do at the gym if it wasn't humanoid in shape--and that rock-type was just barely enough able to do simple curls and presses--some things with the assistance of machines as well. At the very least, it was more than certain _other_Pokémon could do.

"What's that look supposed to mean?" growled a Garchomp, feeling the Tyranitar's eyes upon him. The jet-shark had hooked the claws at the end of his wings through the handles of a fly machine, pulling them back a bit. Behind himself, that thick tail wriggled upon the bench, shifting every so often when the Garchomp pulled a bit unevenly. "You gonna go peak on him in the shower, or somethin'?" that critter growled.

"Like you're not thinking of doing the same thing, Drago," replied Terra, that Tyranitar taking a few steps closer to the dragon-Pokémon, pushing down on the critter's weights as he was lifting, making the Garchomp strain a bit. The shark's pearly chompers bit together, giving a grimace as he fought against the Tyranitar's push, ultimately succeeding for a moment and pulling a rep before setting the heavy things back down.

"Tss," came the response from that Garchomp, pushing his nose up into the air, detaching his hooks from the handles of that machine. "You and I both know that he showers with the curtain closed," Drago replied with a low grunt of exertion, swishing his winged arms backwards for a moment, feeling his chest strain and stretch before bringing them back front. He swung a leg over the bench, sliding off of it, narrowing his eyes at the Tyranitar. The Garchomp was a good half-foot shorter than the other male, and Terra seemed to gloat in that as that green creature looked right back down into the Garchomp's eyes.

"Oh? And what if he's not doing that tonight, huh? After all, it's almost midnight, and besides the two of us, he's the only one in the gym," taunted the taller Tyranitar, smirking. "You sure you can just let that chance slip by?" His grin widened as the Garchomp shifted a bit, looking a little more nervous.

"How about yourself, huh? You've got as big of a crush on him as I do," snapped the Garchomp back, Drago taking another step forward, pushing his chest out in an attempt to look more intimidating. The Tyranitar didn't back down an inch, instead cracking a fist in his opposite hand's palm. He after the pop, he pressed them forward towards the Garchomp's shoulders--but a skilled fin deflected them to the side and then pushed backwards against the larger male's form.

"Grrfhh... you don't know anything," grunted Terra, giving an angry huff out through his nostrils, leaning forward to put his weight into the push against that Garchomp's return-shove. The Tyranitar dug his feet into the gym carpet, grunting deeply as he pushed more and more pressure against the dragon. The rock-type's teeth grinded against each other, face scrunching up. Somehow that Garchomp was just barely matching his own strength, managing to hold its own against his clearly superior power.

"Oh, I know a lot more than you let on, that's for sure," Drago growled in reply, battering his star-tipped head forward against the Tyranitar's chest, managing to push back for a few moments longer. It seemed as if his extra super-training was paying off--he could feel the other, larger male slowly slide backwards along the ground. "Hnngggfh!"

Just when the Garchomp was making some distance, however, the Tyranitar gave an explosive thrust with his arms, pushing the other male backwards and toppling the dragon-type onto his back. Terra smirked cockishly, brushing his paws off against each other. He moved to follow up inside that opening made, only to stop in his tracks from the sight of his trainer emerging from the locker rooms, his brown hair dampened and drooping.

"Hey, hey--what's going on out here, huh?" he said with a gruff voice, crossing his arms over his shoulders. The male's biceps tensed just slightly as he looked at the Tyranitar and that downed Garchomp. "If you guys fight here and get us kicked out of the last gym in town, I won't be too pleased at all, understand?"

"Yes, Blake," the Tyranitar grumbled, looking away, feeling a bit embarrassed and ashamed. He should had known better--the Garchomp had probably intentionally tried to rile him up to get him in trouble, anyway. Terra wasn't particularly known for his even temper--though that Garchomp wasn't quite known for a calculating wit, either.

The trainer, Blake, gave a nod. He couldn't directly translate his Pokémon's words, of course, but like most trainers, he had enough of a bond with them to understand semi-intrinsically the meaning behind them. The human male turned, facing that Garchomp, who had finally gotten back onto his two feet.

"And you?" asked he, arms still crossed, looking sternly at the dragon-type, who, were it not for his cold blood, would have flushed red in embarrassment.

"Rrghh... sorry," he finally said. In truth, he was a bit resentful for having to apologize--after all, it was the Tyranitar's fault for starting to shove him in the first place--he was just defending himself. Still, apologizing for no reason wasn't as bad as having his crush angry at him, and given the Tyranitar's slightly annoyed look, Drago would wager that Terra felt the same way.

"Good, let's get home--without any more incidents, please," Blake said, having to sigh from the sheer fact of needing to say such a thing. He pinched the bridge of his nose a bit, shaking his head slightly as he lead his misbehaving Pokémon to the gym door and held it open for them to file out. The two trotted out onto the sidewalk, heads hung just the slightest bit low as they were made to walk back home, separated with their trainer between them. That Garchomp, being the shortest of the three, was leading, and the tallest Tyranitar held up the rear of their three-man company.

After that 30 minute cool-down walk in the evening air, neither Pokémon had much energy to fight each other--nor did that trainer have any to stop them. Blake yawned loudly, cupping over his mouth as he meandered through the living room, stripping off his shirt and throwing it onto the couch haphazardly. The male was a real bachelor for sure--that living area quite the mess, with TV dinners stacked four boxes high on the coffee-tables, ringed stains from spilt beer soaking into and marring the wooden surface of them. The loosely discarded shirt did little to add to the mess, blending in with the back of the couch and appearing as if it had been there all along.

"Hff, fuck," grunted the trainer, stretching his arms overhead. His shoulder-blades flexed, tensing up along his back before they dropped down. "Get some sleep you too--we're gonna do some more training tomorrow so we can take on the next badge, ok?" Blake said, shooting a glimpse over his shoulder at the Tyranitar and Garchomp, who were sleepily meandering about that living room; that Tyranitar took a seat on a reclining chair, while the Garchomp had pulled out the hide-a-bed underneath the ratty couch and flomped down atop of it.

"Guhharrhh..." he grunted, waving a wing at his trainer, eyes already partially closed. He had just wanted to get to pass out completely upon the bed, though the way that the Tyranitar's chair squeaked with every slight movement would undoubtedly make such a thing difficult. Burying his nose into one of the couch cushions refurbished into a pillow for that hide-a-bed, the Garchomp's breathing slowed down a bit more, finding himself coming closer and closer into drifting away to sleep.

Just when Drago was at the very edge of falling into that sweet embrace of slumber, the Tyranitar's chair creaaaked loudly, and two thumps signaled the male stepping off of it. The jet-shark cracked open an eye, peering out a little as he caught the form of that rock-type stepping closer and closer to the sofa, right at his side, before reaching a paw overhead. Drago tensed, steadying his breathing for a moment. He was almost certain that he was right on the edge of being attacked--only for that hand to dart completely over and grasp hold of his trainer's shirt, tugging it off the back of that couch and giving it a deep inhale.

Drago bit his tongue, stifling a little laugh. As if that big and mighty Tyranitar didn't have a crush on their trainer. With shirt in hand, Terra returned over to his chair bed, plopping his heft into the seat with a creak and rocking backwards, reclining. For the moment, the Garchomp had thought that the Tyranitar was done for the night, and he let his eyes settle back down into a more relaxed and closed state--only to be proven wrong when that recliner began to squeak and creak with a steady rhythm.

"Uffhh... Blake..." mumbled that Tyranitar, his eyes closed. One paw was between his legs, rubbing at a slightly puffy slit, the top of which accented by a thick, grey-colored shaft starting to protrude. At least--the Garchomp had thought it was grey. It looked roughly the same color as the Tyranitar's belly, after all, and had a lot of the same features. It was plated from tip to base, small ridges forming bumps upon that shaft that circled its girth, and a few larger bulbs were placed on various symmetric points down the length of his member.

Feeling himself staring a bit too intently at Terra's crotch, Drago forced his vision further up, smirking a bit as he watched that Tyranitar inhale greedily at that sweaty shirt, just to groan out and pump that meat steadily. The creaking from that recliner grew just a bit louder--and it seemed as if Terra could hear it, as his jerking softened a moment after those squeaks echoed for brief second. His vision peered towards Blake's door, as if expecting it to open and for himself to be caught in the act.

"I don't know anything, huh?" asked the Garchomp, giving a teasing grin as the Tyranitar returned to a steady jerk. "I'd have to say you must have some sort of crush on Blake, if you're jerking off using his shirt as an aid," taunted Drago, smirking just slightly as he heard the gritting of that rock-type's teeth in response, and a deep grumble.

"I was just--I mean, I was--" the Tyranitar fought for words, ultimately failing in the battle of wits with himself. "Feh. I was going to use it as a cum-towel to wipe up," he said finally, avoiding the greater elephant in the room.

"And that's why you grabbed it specifically, and not the box of tissues on the table next to you, huh?" pestered the Garchomp, giving a toothy grin that was just barely visible in the near pitch-black of evening. His pearly chompers glinted just slightly.

"Hrmfh. You're just jealous because I thought of it first," Terra shot back, voice gravelly as it fought to keep to a whispering level with a tone more suited for yelling. "Go on, admit it--you wanna snort up Blake's sweaty work-out shirt," taunted Terra, a similar grin forming on his face shooting back at the Garchomp. A bit of his teasing was lost however, as the Tyranitar was the one with a swollen, turgid rod twitching between his legs.

Drago rolled himself off that small hide-a-bed, slipping off the edge of it and stepping towards the Tyranitar's own sleeping chair. He brought his snout in closer towards Terra's face, grinning cockily and tipping his head to the side slightly as he got in the Tyranitar's grill.

"Yeah, I'm the one who wants to do that--not the very fag who was doing it in the first-place," Drago said, swatting a wingtip down against the rock-type's groin, making that stiff member sway back and forth like a flicked door-stopper. "How about you just admit how much you lust for our trainer already? It just hurts me to see you in such denial," the Garchomp said sarcastically, rolling his eyes slightly at his last sentence.

"Hrrrhhffh! There's nothing to confess," the Tyranitar snapped back, not really wanting to discuss such things with the dragon-type, who'd obviously rub him in the wrong way.

"Nothin' what-so-ever, huh?" Drago said, cocking the scaled flesh above his eye-brow. "Well, if that's the case, you won't mind me going in there and winning him between us... I mean, after all, you're not even competing," he growled, corners of his lips curling into a conceited smile. The Tyranitar glared back, gritting his teeth once more.

"I'd mind--but that's just because, uh..." he paused, trying to think of a reason. "Because I don't want him wakin' up because of you doing something stupid!" The excuse sounded dumb, even to the one who came up with it. By the time the Tyranitar had finished what he was saying, however, the Garchomp was already pushing open that door, claw sliding smoothly into the trainer's room. With an almost betrayed look, the rock-type pushed himself out of his creaky recliner and chased after the Garchomp, feet thumping a bit loudly upon the ground as he clamored after the other male.

Blake's room was near black as well--his windows covered with some thick curtains, not even an ounce of moonlight creeping in from them. In fact, the only source of illumination came from that open door to the living room, light diffusing inside from it. The Garchomp had already turned towards the door, raising a claw to his lips to shush the Tyranitar and his loud steps; the last thing either of them needed was their trainer waking up to both Pokémon in his room, one with a massive stiffy that just wouldn't go down.

"Try not to get too embarrassed," grunted the Garchomp quietly, kneeling down at the edge of the bed. Blake slept about as messily as his living quarters, with sheets strewn over himself haphazardly, barely covering his muscled form. His right half didn't seem to be covered by anything at all, and so the dragon rubbed the rough scales of his nose against the male's ankle, testing for a response. Not a single stir arouse from that slumbering male, though he did snore a bit loudly a few moments later.

"Q-quit it," the Tyranitar growled, moving towards the jet-shark, only to be pushed away by a sweep of that dragon-type's thick tail. Just the sight of his trainer laying there asleep, exposed and vulnerable was making Terra feel lustful--even if he hadn't quite come to terms with his feelings toward Blake--at least, not vocally.

"Or what, huh?" replied Drago, breathing out against that calf, pressing his lips to it and slowly nibbling his way up higher and higher upon that sleeping male's form, until his fanged jaw bit against the trainer's underwear, giving the pair of undies a slight tug. They ripped a moment later as the Garchomp slid his teeth together, making a hole in the side for the dragon-type to further tear from. "Blake could sleep through an Earthquake--even one that you'd make," he said with a short little chuckle--albeit hushed.

It didn't take long for the Garchomp to chew through the side of those undies, carefully clasping them between his teeth and giving them a firm yank, stripping the male out of them like a magician would tug a table-cloth underneath a set table. Not a single sound--aside from those snores--came from the trainer's lips, though he did roll over slightly, grasping hold of his sheets and bunching them up to spoon with.

Drago spotted and opening and took it, quickly slipping his snout down and around that trainer's firm backside, smushing it up between the males cheeks with a rough grunt. His long tongue flexed out, smushing up against that recently washed crack, tasting only the salty maleness from Blake's walk home. It was almost addicting in flavor, and the Garchomp's tongue quickly and shamelessly dug in, smearing up against that pucker as it swept between those firm mounds of ass and darted along the crevasse between.

"Grhrh... you're gonna wake him!" Terra said with a bit of an angry growl, stepping over a pile of clothing to grasp hold of the Garchomp's should and tug him backwards from that ass. A wet pop was made as that muzzle was dislodged; saliva trailed from a tense hole to the dragon-type's lips.

"You're the one who's gonna wake 'em with your voice," Drago replied in a hushed yell. Blake groaned, rolling back over again and onto his back. It seemed as if that impromptu rimming had some sort of effect on the human's body, as the male's member stiffly twitched up from his groin. It was tannish in color, a shade or two darker than the rest of the trainer's muscular body, and at its full mast, Blake's foreskin wrapped just halfway down around his glans. "You gonna go for it, or are you gonna go hide away in the closet?" asked the Garchomp.

Before Terra could respond, the jet-shark had already swiftly swung past, placing a wing on the trainer's thick, firm thigh, and sliding a slimy tongue out from his mouth, wrapping it around the tip and giving it a wet squeeze. Another groan escaped the trainer's lips, his body starting to twitch and stir a bit. It moved further as the Garchomp's tongue moved to tease at that sensitive tip, dragging itself back and forth over that urethral slit, steadily lapping clean the salty precum that was drooling from it.

"You're gonna..." the Tyranitar began, before catching Blake's eyes starting to peak open out of the corner of his vision. Quickly, the male slid to the edge of that bed and pushed Blake's head back down against the pillow, forcibly kissing the awakened human, trying to keep him from yelling out. It seemed to work, at very least--though those surprised yells were fed into his muzzle rather than released out into the open air. A rush of pleasure flooded through the Tyranitar's body, filling his engorged girth even further, making the knobbed bumps at its sides protrude out just a bit more. His dicked rubbed against his trainer's bed, drooling copiously and messing the sheets with that slick precum load.

Drago's tail smacked lightly against Terra's thigh, the dragon-type grateful for the assist. He pushed his muzzle down further upon that shaft, giving a wet gulp as the uncut rod twitched at the base of his throat. His tongue encircled around the girth of that member, giving it a steady pump and squeeze, feeling it twitch and throb with warmth as his drool and taster encased it.

Of the three males, Blake was the one arguably receiving the most pleasure--but he was also the one struggling the most as well. In the near pitch black of his room, he couldn't see the figures and forms surrounding him--one most definitely kissing him hard, with a pair of scaled lips and tasting like a rock. The other seemed to have some wet passage wrapped around his stiff shaft, and a rough snout that grinded against the modest amount of pubic hair atop his groin. Even in a sleep-addled state, the trainer soon realized what was going on, and he pulled his head to the side, giving a sharp grunt as he broke the kiss with that larger male.

"Hffhh... hffhh... Terra? Drago? What the hell are you guys doiinngggaaahhh!" he began, only to be cut off by a particularly firm slurp from the jet-shark's mouth, this one rolling what little excess foreskin that the trainer had back over his glans, sandwiching a wet, squirming tongue between it and that bare cockhead. Drago wasted little time in swirling his tongue around inside that created fold, slobbering loudly as he smacked his lips and slurped away at the gym-jock's girth.

Terra felt just the slightest bit left out--leaning forward again and breathing over the trainer's ear, flicking out his long tongue against the lobe, teasing at it steadily. His rough hand lifted up and stroked Blake's chest, feeling the firm bulge of muscle beneath it, tensing rhythmically as the Garchomp's tongue swept past a particularly sensitive spot on that shaft.

"Hffhh... ahh... fuck..." grunted the human, his body tensing up further. As the trainer's "roommates", both Garchomp and Tyranitar knew that it had been ages since Blake had gotten his sexual needs taken care of by another--assuming that he wasn't jerking off in the showers at the gym, at very least. They pressed this advantage to the fullest, Terra clamping down on the male's lobe, grazing at it with teeth and giving a light tug. The very tip of it was teased with that Tyranitar's tongue, swiping back and forth against the loosest, lowest part of it. Drago's vigorous bobbing certainly wasn't helping the trainer's resistance as well, as soon after he groaned out: "Oohh... fuck it... do what you guys want... I'm too pent up now."

It didn't take long for either Pokémon to take advantage of the offer, Terra shifting his head to that muscled chest, giving a firm smooch to a stiffened nipple there, grazing at it with his teeth as he started to suck and pull upon it, lips creating a firm suction that only solidified that nub even further. His hand drifted down the human's belly, feeling the bare outline of a developing pack of abs before slipping even further forward and squeezing at Blake's side, giving it a firm pinning grip as the Tyranitar drooled over that firm chest.

Likewise, Drago increased the intensity of his oral pleasure, swirling his tongue further around the inside of that foreskin, giving a forceful bob downwards upon that shaft, rolling the loose hood back as his saliva sloppily drizzled over that length, and an equally firm slurping suckle milked at the human's girth. The jet-shark adjusted and turned his head to the side, bringing his rough nose to those orbs hanging below that swollen shaft, inhaling and nosing at them, twitching his snout a bit as he felt those balls pull up closer and closer to the base of Blake's length.

"Nngghh... fuck... gonna blow already..." huffed the male, one arm finding itself behind his head, lifting it up a bit. His eyes had adjusted to that small amount of light leaking in from the living room, and he confirmed his suspicions upon who exactly it was slobbering over his chest and shaft. There was something oddly erotic and kinky about getting sexual attention from two Pokémon--though it was illegal in most cities for obvious reasons. The biggest was the faux pas of having creatures that some considered as their pets sexually stimulate their "owners". A lot of folks had considered such a thing immoral and sinful, after all. While Blake certainly wasn't one of those people--he tended to see his Pokémon as equals, even if he couldn't understand them completely--he had never really expected to be the one on a receiving end of a Garchomp blow-job and Tyranitar nipple-nibbling.

Smushing that snout right back down against his trainer's groin, Drago gave a firm slurping gulp around that shaft, bobbing and gulping deeply upon it. His lips tensed against the base of that shaft, squeezing and jerking it just slightly as he bobbed up and down over it, feeling it tense further and further, slowly stiffening up as those balls pulled closely to the base of that member. Drago's tongue swished around that uncovered glans, giving it a bare, intense suckling, wriggling the side of his taster against that slit.

"Ghh!" vocalized Blake, clenching before arching his back, hitting his limit in ecstasy. His balls pulled closer to his shaft still, tensing up as they were drawn tight and released their contents out and into the Garchomp's maw. That thick rod jerked within Drago's maw, twitching and squirting a steady pumping of seed into the Garchomp's mouth, flooding across the jet-shark's slimy tongue. Behind the male, his tail swished back and forth rapidly, tasting the thick, slightly bitter flavor of that seed, easily drinking it down in lustful gulps. Drago pulled himself backwards, letting just the tip remain settled in his muzzle, lips pursing around the very ridge of that glans, drinking the fluid from the tip and staining his tongue with its taste. "Gaaahh... fuuck..." panted the trainer, biting his teeth together, gritting them as his over-sensitive shaft gave a few more final twitches within that mouth.

With a wet pop, the Garchomp pulled off that spent rod, licking his slightly slimy lips clean of residual fluids. Between his own legs were a pair of rather swollen rods, both of them twitching and jerking in the stagnant air of that bedroom, musk starting to fill through it from the combination of both Pokémon's leaking rods. A needy huff escaped the Garchomp's lips, and he moved to rub himself up against that bed, before the Tyranitar pushed him aside, and slid himself over that bed slightly, dragging his trainer to its edge and pressing a swollen rod to the male's lips.

Blake uncertainly gave that girth a smooch--though it was more of an unintentional brush of lips with the way that Tyranitar man-handled that girth up against his mouth. He was filled with thoughts of uncertainty--but with his mind still hazy from his orgasm, and the idea that the two needy Pokémon would probably be able to overpower him anyway made it seem like the better idea to just go with the flow. As that thick, tapered tip pushed against his lips again, leaking precum over them, Blake opened his mouth and took the rod into it, giving a firm suck. It didn't take long for the Tyranitar to shove his hips forwards, ramming it against the back of that trainer's throat in a crude attempt to hilt--only succeeding in making the male gag and tear up a bit, coughing.

"Don't be so rough with him!" grunted that Garchomp, squishing himself right up next to the Tyranitar and letting his twin shafts flop down upon the bed just an inch or so away from the other's shaft, one rod drooling lazily upon Blake's cheek. "He ain't gonna like you if you break him, y'know," Drago huffed, giving a flex of his groin, causing his double stiffnesses to twitch in tandem.

Blake lifted a hand up, the rod on his cheek a firm squeeze, starting to stroke it a bit. In the dim light he couldn't see that other matching shaft that drooled and splurted away a short distance away from his chin, leaking nice and steadily upon his bedsheets and forming a soaked puddle of musky precum. With a crude and unpracticed motion, the trainer swapped from one cockhead to the other, popping Terra's large shaft out from his lips and the Garchomp's relatively smoother and thinner one into his mouth. The size of that jet-shark's girth proved to be a blessing for once, as Blake managed to sink his lips down almost three-quarters of the way before choking and pulling back, saliva stringing upon that girth's slippery shaft.

"Ugh... I can't do this in bed," Blake grunted, pushing the two Pokémon back, sliding himself out of bed and onto the floor, kneeling down in his nude glory. "Hffh... there we go--glkh!" He was cut off mid-sentence, that Tyranitar placing a paw upon the critter's head and pulling it to his own rod, smushing it back against the trainer's face and into that mouth before it could finish speaking. The tongue within that mouth paused for a few moments before quickly getting to work, swishing and swirling around the Tyranitar's shaft, pressing down along its underside and twisting back and forth, rubbing against those sensitive, swelling-out bumps at its edges. Of course, Terra didn't get much attention for long before the Garchomp wanted in on some action as well, and pushed himself into the fray. This time the jet-shark's dual-dickedness managed to catch Blake's eye, and he grasped hold of one while moving his head to the tip of the other, taking it into his mouth along with the Tyranitar's own shaft.

"Don't touch mine," growled Terra, turning his head and glaring at the Garchomp, peering down at the smaller male.

"Don't take up so much room then, dammit," Drago grunted in reply, sighing out as his mirror shaft was jerked in the trainer's grasp, both of them squirting out their salty-slick load. One jet splattered against Blake's sculpted chest, the other splorted down his tongue, sliming into that wet mouth and intermixing with the saliva that the male swished between the two touching shafts.

Blake rolled his eyes a bit at the incomprehensible, to him, argument between the two Pokémon. He slurped the two shafts down deeper into his mouth before finally pulling back, huffing and groaning a bit to catch his breath. One hand drifted to Terra's shaft, sweeping down from tip to base, slathering it with that spit and precum, wetting the rock-type's impressive girth with those slickening agents.

Not willing to wait particularly long, Terra, bumped the Garchomp away with a swing of his heftier hips, pushing the jet-shark aside as he quickly rolled himself up onto the trainer's bed, pulling that male along for the ride, leaving him straddling across the Tyranitar's belly just a few moments later. One rock-type paw squeezed at Blake's ass firmly, giving it a spread and push backwards as the Pokémon flexed his shaft and let it sloppily hotdog between those muscular cheeks.

"No fair," snarled Drago, having fallen onto his rear, tail flexing and twitching a bit until he could finally come to his feet once more. Not having hands hindered his efforts quite a bit.

"Ya snooze, ya lose," snorted Terra, letting his other paw fall upon Blake's hip, giving it a squeeze as he guided his trainer down. That impressive girth of his poked firmly at the male's rear, quite a cause of alarm for any untrained and straight male. Luckily for the two Pokémon, Blake was neither of them--not that they had known it. Had they poked around in his closet, and dug through a pile of covering shoeboxes, they would have found their trainer's collection of XL sized Bad Druddigon dildos, which were a good inch thicker than the Tyranitar's size--and that Pokémon packed a mighty pecker.

So when Blake pressed himself back down on the Tyranitar's shaft, easily sliding his way over that thick girth, rim stretching and accommodating it with ease, the Pokémon was naturally surprised--though it manifested itself with a confused groan of pleasure, and an arch of his larger back. The stimulation of that filling--a great deal different than the one his toys had gave him--only spurred Blake to riding that Tyranitar harder than he would normally, coming to a firm hilt on Terra's shaft in just a few moments, his gut bulging out from the sheer filling of it. Blake gritted his teeth, feeling that rod tense and thicken slightly inside himself, stirring around his innards a bit from its sheer form.

Riding a real Pokémon's cock was quite different than riding a replica, Blake determined, feeling the incredible heat pulse through that rod, and the slight twitches and flexes that tensing girth gave within his passage. Sure, he could heat up a dildo in some hot water before use, but it just didn't compare to the intense feeling of an internally warm and throbbing shaft. Settling his cheeks down upon the male's groin, the trainer bounced himself slightly just a few inches off the base, grunting as he warmed his passage up to that rod. It didn't take too terribly long--he had gotten in a good half-hour of dildo-play before eventually passing out to bed, sleeping only for an hour before being intruded upon by the two Pokémon.

"G-goddamn!" Terra snarled, grasping hold of those firm cheeks, spreading and squeezing them tightly as he pounded upwards in between them. He only was allowed to get a good few thrusts into them before his clawed hands were knocked aside by a pair of jet-shark fins; the Garchomp had returned into the game.

The bed creaked a bit, having the added weight of a dragon-type upon it, and soon that scaled chest of the Garchomp was pushing up against Blake's back, pushing that trainer forwards and partially off of the Tyranitar's shaft--only a few inches of it remaining inside that muscular rear. Drago adjusted just slightly, pushing one tip of his members into that hole, sliding it in alongside the Tyranitar's own.

"Hffhh... fuck!" the trainer hissed out--one cock didn't take him that close to his limits, but the addition of the second one put him right at the brink of that limit. "Finally," he gasped, the trainer a bit of a size-queen when it came to large dongs, his member stiffening up once more. He leaned further forward, hands pushing down on the Tyranitar's shoulders as the Garchomp took position behind himself, stuffing to the near hilt. The male's second shaft slapped up between his cheeks and along his spine, leaking and drooling copiously on his back, making it glisten, looking oiled in the dimly lit room. "Hff... if you two wanna make me blow, you're gonna have to work together again," Blake grunted, biting his lower lip and tensing his passage around each cock, giving it a tight squeeze into himself. It was probably the best and only way he could get those two rivals to work together, anyway.

"Grrfh, hurry up and blow, so I can finish him off myself," Terra grunted, puffing out his nostrils as he started to press up and pound away at that tight hole, rubbing his ridged girth against the Garchomp's smoother and slicker one.

"Haahh... you heard him--he's not gonna be able to blow with just you," Drago said. "He needs two dicks--so you should finish first and I'll go ahead and take care of it," replied that Garchomp with a cocky grin. His head popped over the trainer's shoulder, smirking down at the Tyranitar, shaft smoothly slicking up against one edge of Blake's walls, and the underside of Terra's girth.

"Just listen to yourself," snarled the other male, really starting to thrust upwards into his trainer's ass, the added pressure from that other shaft making it grip tighter around. He wouldn't admit that it felt better, though. "Let's make a truce--if you're not gonna blow first, just make sure you cum at the same time as I do," the Tyranitar said. That rock-type was at a slight disadvantage already--not only did he start first, but he only had one shaft which was getting full attention from Blake rather than two.

"Fine, fine," the Garchomp grunted, shifting a little closer, starting to grind his hips up against that firm backside, his scaled groin slapping loudly against that solid ass as one shaft slid deeper into it, and the other wriggled up along between those cheeks and against Blake's back. That precum constantly splurted from both tips, intermixing with the Tyranitar's own drooling fluid and the sloppy mixture of saliva already on that male's shaft.

"Hnnffhh, there we go..." groaned the trainer, throwing his head back a bit, giving a deep moan of pleasure as those shafts combined into one total unit, though with individual parts that nudged at his prostate and filled his size-queen needs. Driven closer and closer to his own orgasm, Blake arched his back further before finally giving out a surprised, orgasmic yell, having not expected to reach his peak so quickly.

His stiffy pulsed for the third time that night--second time with his Pokémon in the room. It twitched, shooting out a thinner line of seed than before, splattering across the Tyranitar's large, plated belly in off-white, semi-transparent ropes. Behind, that passage embracing the two fat cocks tensed and clenched down upon them, squeezing them within its walls, pushing them tighter together with milking grips.

"Grrffhh!" cried out both Pokémon in seeming tandem. While neither had intended on cumming at the same time as the other, they both were spurred to orgasm by the sudden clench around by Blake's rear, and squirt after squirt of semen flooded into that hole. That Tyranitar was clearly the biggest producer of the two--though mainly because that entire load was deposited inside that tunnel, unlike the Garchomp's own.

Thick, Tyranitar seed flooded through that stretched rear, intermixing with the jet-shark's load, half-splurted into that passage, the other half jerking in thin shots up along Blake's back and spine. Their combined orgasm lasted only a few seconds, though pleasure shooting through the two Pokémon's brains seemed to make it feel drawn out and prolonged--intensely draining. A moment later, the Tyranitar's eyes rolled back, and he passed out from a held breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Likewise, that Garchomp too soon flumped forward onto his trainer's back, giving a sharp groan out from the intensity of his orgasm, body completely drained both from it and that day's activities. His shaft was the first one to slop out of that slimy passage, cum drooling from it and on the bed as that Garchomp fell onto his side, huffing hard. His eyes lidded a moment later, only closing them to catch his breath, but soon he too had fallen asleep, partially pinning Blake in between their bodies.

Of the three, that trainer was the only one who managed to stay conscious post-orgasm--though with a Tyranitar's grip on one half of his ass and the Garchomp's body pinning the other; it was hard to do little more than shift a bit upon that slightly softening prick, getting comfortable between the two scaled creatures. His belly was rather bloated, full of two hot loads, both of them churned into him at once. It looked as if the male had put on a beer-gut over that normally firm and flat abdomen. Still, with the warm load bubbling within his belly, and the exhaustion of taking two thick dicks at once, Blake soon drifted off to sleep himself, snoring a slight bit as that Tyranitar's shaft stirred around in his rear

Come the morning, Blake rubbed at his eyes, rolling out of his empty bed. His covers were still a mess, coated in some sticky musky stains of precum and semen. Pushing them aside to be washed later, the trainer pulled on some boxer-shorts, and walked out into the living room, rubbing his sore asscheek with one hand.

"Ugh... what a night," he muttered a bit, looking at the two critters on his sofa and recliner--only to find both of them empty. "Ehh...?" he muttered, until hearing the sound of food sizzle from the kitchen. Those two Pokémon almost never made breakfast unless they had done something wrong. The scent of eggs and bacon assaulted his nostrils the moment he stepped through the doorway, giving a surprised grunt.

The Tyranitar was working the skillet and oven, of course--that Garchomp could do little with his claw-tipped wings beyond pushing buttons on a microwave. Since he wasn't working, the Garchomp noticed their trainer enter first, and nudged the Tyranitar on the side, who turned to face the male with heads bowed.

"Sorry about last night, Blake," the Garchomp said. "We didn't mean to force you into anything sudden, it just sort of happened," he muttered. The jet-shark elbowed a wing to the Tyranitar.

"Ahrm. I'm very sorry," the male said, Terra bowing his head down a bit.

With their eyes at the floor, the two critters only spotted their trainer's feet enter their vision for a moment before they were embraced by the male, each one getting a smooch on their cheek.

"Do you think I'd have let you done that if I didn't want it?" the trainer said, keeping his hug to the Pokémon. "Don't be silly. I love you two more than anything in the world--even if you both feel for me in a deeper way than friendship. C'mon--let's have breakfast."