Yaroslav stood in the small bathroom of their modest apartment, clutching the box of suppositories with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. At eighteen, the transgender teen had dealt with enough awkward medical moments, but this stomach pain demanded action. His adoptive father Pasha, the thirty-two-year-old trainer with a no-nonsense attitude, was out with Vyacheslav, the biology professor and vet who doubled as a fencing coach. Vyacheslav had always called Yaroslav his 'young talent' or 'pineapple' thanks to that wild green-topped hairstyle resembling lettuce leaves, with yellow sides and shaved dips. 'Ananasik, you are creative but the world's not ready for glitter cheeks,' Vyacheslav had said last week, his anti-LGBT stance clear as he blocked the makeup to avoid street trouble.
Yaroslav sighed, his pussy already sensitive from the day's tension. 'I can't ask them. Too humiliating.' He locked the door and tried inserting the suppository himself, but in his flustered state, it slipped into the wrong place—his vagina. 'Shit!' he muttered, feeling it lodge awkwardly. Panic rose. 'Pasha! Vyacheslav! Help!' he called, voice cracking.
Pasha burst in first, followed by Vyacheslav. 'What the hell, Yaroslav?' Pasha said, eyes widening. 'You tried this alone? You're eighteen, not a kid.' Vyacheslav chuckled dryly. 'Our little ananasik, always the daring one. But this is a medical mess.' They helped him to the bed, hands steady but the air thickening with unexpected heat. Yaroslav's cheeks flushed as their touches lingered. 'Don't mock me. It hurts, and I'm horny from the stress—don't judge.' Pasha grinned wickedly. 'Horny? Let's see about that pain.'
The tension built with sharp banter. 'You always were the strong one, Yaroslav,' Vyacheslav said, his voice low. 'Not submissive like some. But this situation... it's intimate.' Yaroslav retorted, 'I'm not your experiment, professor. Though your vet hands might know anatomy.' Pasha laughed. 'Witty as ever. My adoptive son, all grown and dripping wet already?' Yaroslav's pussy was indeed wet, dripping with arousal mixed with the awkward insertion. 'Help me fix it, or shut up.'
Hands explored, turning aid into seduction. Pasha's cock hardened against Yaroslav's thigh. 'Feel that? Hard for you.' Vyacheslav joined, his own cock pressing close. 'Against my principles, but damn, the pineapple's ass looks inviting.' Dialogue sparked: 'Two cocks for one mistake?' Yaroslav quipped. 'Make it count.' They stripped, sweating in the heated room. Yaroslav took Pasha's cock in a blowjob first, tongue swirling as he panted. 'Good boy—man,' Pasha corrected, thrusting gently.
The climax hit explicit and real. Yaroslav lay back, pussy slick and ready. Pasha entered first, cock sliding deep into the wet heat while Vyacheslav claimed his ass, both men moving in rhythm. 'Fuck, so tight,' Pasha groaned. Yaroslav moaned, 'Harder, don't hold back—I'm not fragile.' They pounded, cum building as bodies slapped, sweating and panting. Yaroslav came first, pussy clenching around Pasha's cock, then Vyacheslav filled his ass with hot cum. Pasha followed, spilling inside with a grunt. 'That fixed the pain?' Vyacheslav panted, pulling out.
After, they cleaned up amid witty jabs. 'Next time, ask for help sooner, ananasik,' Vyacheslav said. Yaroslav smirked, strong and unbowed. 'Or maybe not— this was better.' The room smelled of sex and relief, but a new spark lingered.
What other 'treatments' might the pineapple need in the chapters ahead?
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga - or write a steamy tale starring you.