Rick and Morty Short Stories

So Many Rickles.

Story For:
Mortytheslut
BonBon-The-Bunny
Ultralexis

Content:
So Much Morty/Pickle Rick

Did I earn my special SipSip?????

These two just need to do it all .3.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

All week, Morty can't get the memory of the sensation from his mind. That had been the first time he'd ever done something so damn close to the actual act of fucking something, rather than cramming his fingers up his ass and whining when he couldn't reach nearly deep enough. Now, though... now he knew what it felt like to see stars, to scream for more and none at the same time, to weep bitterly with the force of orgasm. And he simply couldn't get enough.

Rick's mind was clouded with the memory of the sensation of his entire body being consumed in fiery passion, in piercing pleasure. It made his knees weak just thinking about it. No amount of any form of fucking in his person form could ever give him such a feeling. He'd never have guessed, but his pleasures are darker than he'd ever thought; weirder than he thought pleasures could get. He worked relentlessly, trying to find a new way to get that sensation. He wanted to do it all, to have every possible way practiced and run through before he would mix it. Morty was a champ, pulling through with that piston that even Rick himself probably wouldn't have made it very long on. The brunet held the key that Rick didn't know he'd lost, the key to his own primal pleasures, to his gratifying release.
His knees felt weak as he sat at the workbench, soldering a few pieces here, inserting a few screws there, trying to do something other than think about what he wanted from Morty. Instead, with great, lustful frustration, he shoved himself away from his failed attempt at a distraction and rolled backwards in his chair, wondering what he could do now. He growled lowly, a plan already formulating though he didn't know if it would work.

*~*~*

"Morty!!" The house was empty now, save for Rick and the brunet up in his own room, doing God knows what. "Get your urp your hands off your di-dick and come- come down here, eugh Mo-Morty!" He called up the stairs, knowing the kid could definitely hear him. "Re- eugh Remember what I s-said? About finding new urp new ways?" Rick questioned, unable to hide his excitement as a needy grin cracked on his lips. Morty nodded, wide eyes staring innocently up at Rick. "C-Come on, urp mo-Morty. We gotta- gotta try something now." Morty allowed Rick to drag him back to the lower lab, once more shutting the hatch and rotating the lock on it from within. At least, down here, they knew nobody would walk in on them.

It wasn't that Rick was completely attracted to Morty. No, it definitely wasn't that. It was simply the fact that the brunet could give him what he wanted, could satiate that devilish, lustful need to feel completely submerged in pleasure. He praised Morty more often now, however, just to be certain he wouldn't lose his experimental assistant. The brunet happily accepted the phrases and kind gestures without a second thought, knowing Rick was probably just doing it to keep him there. Both were fine with it, neither growing desperately attached to the other. They could simply satiate one another's needs and desires.

Rick hastily descended the ladder, gripping the handles and sliding down when he was close enough to not shatter a kneecap. He was absolutely desperate, wanting to just bury himself in the peace-bringing pleasure. Never in his life had he felt that free; that absolutely infinite.

He hurried to his workbench, wasting no time in laying a small bottle of lube out for the boy before he quickly traded his self into his Rickle personality. Morty huffed, running over and laughing. "D-Desperate, really." Rick rolled his eyes, "J-Just do the thing, Morty, urp c'mon."

The brunet laughed, wondering why he continued this. It was hella weird, but he found that it gave him the appreciation he wanted from Rick. Plus, in the end, as long as he got Rickle in him, he always woke from his after-nap feeling more complete. Rick pieced the broken parts that bullies and namecalling had thrown down, putting them together with praising gifts and blissful experiences.
Slowly, Morty picked the pickle up, dropping trou with a flick of the opposite wrist. "C-Can I sit in the ch-chair?" He asked, not wanting Rick to get pissed if he made a mess of it. "Yea, just urp hurry, alright?" Rickle groaned, shaking as he shut his eyes and bit his lip.

Even the gentle sensation of Morty holding him, or of running his fingers along the pickly flesh, made Rickle shudder. He waited anxiously as Morty grabbed the lube, shrugging as he probably was thankful he didn't have to taste pickle for hours again. Rickle shivered lightly when his fingers deftly ran over his pickled body, the lube running down the near-idolized flesh now as Morty caressed his sides, sitting in his work chair now.

Morty wheeled the chair forward, placing his legs up and apart on the desk. He brought Rickle closer, pressing his bottom lightly to his entrance. Rickle squirmed, wanting to be enveloped in his entirety already. "Morty," he panted. "Do it urp alr-already." The brunet chuckled lightly, slowly pushing Rickle into him with a soft sigh. "Morty, kid, urp I'm gonna bite your fi- your finger if you don't hurry." Rick;e groaned desperately, and Morty was almost shocked. Rick was never this way. He sighed further as Rickle pushed farther into him, finally stopping as he didn't want to push him in any farther.
"Morty," Rickle began, and Morty paused, knowing he had instructions. "Mo-Morty, push me a lit- a little further, an-and don't move me. I-I-I'm gon- urp gonna test something." The curious brunet nodded, pressing Rickle a little further. "Good," Rickle announced. Morty nodded once more, laying his hands awkwardly on his stomach and waiting for whatever it was Rickle had in mind this time.

Using every bit of his might and willpower, as though he rolled a natural 20, Rickle wiggled his body within the brunet like a caterpillar, rotating slowly to make sure he had the motion down. The sweet pleasure rolling through him drew noises from Rickle he never would have normally made voluntarily. It was almost sickly sweet how incredible the feeling was.
Very softly, Rickle clamped his small mouth around segments of the opening to Morty's hole, licking or nipping at the flesh that sat in front of and around him. He listened to the soft gasps and whimpers of Morty, feeling him raise and lower his hips slightly as he desperately ground against nothing.
Rickle continued to nip, lick, and suckle at the puckered flesh enveloping his body as he squirmed and wriggled in a circle, leaving no spot untouched by his mouth. He was on cloud nine, twitching almost involuntarily as he worked his pickly body within the brunet. "M-Morty," he panted, still wriggling, "t-touch you-yourself, Morty. I ne-need to fee- I gotta feel you ar-around me, Mo-Morty. T-Touch yourself." Rickle insisted, panting harshly as he continued to tease the skin with his itty bitty mouth. He wriggled within the tight walls, feeling as though high once more as it twitched around him. Morty was panting harshly, shaking slightly and Rickle knew he was listening to instruction once more.

Morty wasn't sure what Rickle was doing to his flesh, but the sensation sent chills down his spine. He whined and whimpered as he listened to Rickle, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking with fervent want. He bit his lip, finding it did nothing as he was groaning and moaning too much, wriggling his hips and (un)clenching his calf muscles. His toes curled as Rickle continued to wriggle within him, nibbling on Morty's flesh with his little tongue darting out rapidly.

Rickle was literally vibrating at this point, wanting to feel Morty clench around him so he could finally feel the utmost pleasure. He was shaking with the need to literally explode, but he didn't want to until he felt the brunet clamp around his entire being.

Morty heard a small growl as he was almost there, feeling a tight, pinching sensation before he threw his head back, thrown instantly into another orgasmic episode. He scrunched his eyes shut, his hips thrusting violently against nothing as his thighs shook with intensity. He felt a sensation he had almost grown accustomed to within in, hearing a small 'ffffuck' as he came down slowly onto the chair.

"God," Rickle panted as Morty pulled him back out. "J-Just.. God." Rickle panted further, unable to bring an actual phrase to his lips. This was the most blissful, insurmountable pleasure he'd ever witnessed, ever experienced. He never wanted this to go away.

Morty was breathing heavily, setting Rickle gently on the desk as he leaned back in the chair. His curls clung to his sweaty forehead as he struggled to fight the exhaustion. "God, R-Rickle," Morty chuckled sleepily. The name was both the most humorous and most pleasurable thing he'd ever said, no matter what anybody thought of it.