They didn’t just take turns.
They took me.
Together.
Daniel was behind me, hands on my hips, cock pushing in deep. Wes in front, knelt down, mouth parted, eyes locked on mine like I was the only thing he needed right now.
I was the bridge. Their plaything. Their toy.
And when Wes reached forward—when Daniel reached up—
their hands met.
Right over my back.
Fingers laced.
Palms tight.
That’s when it happened.
The Eiffel Tower.
And god, it was perfect.
Their rhythm synced up immediately—like they’d done this before. Like they’d practiced on other boys. Or maybe they just knew exactly what I needed.
Daniel would thrust in. I’d lurch forward. Wes would slide deeper down my throat. Then Wes would pull back, and I’d fall back onto Daniel’s cock again. Over and over. Their movement one smooth wave. Like I wasn’t even in control anymore.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. Just feel.
And every inch of me was being filled.
Daniel’s grip on my hips tightened. Wes’s cock throbbed on my tongue.
And their hands—still holding—never let go.
“Fuck,” Wes hissed. “Look at him. He’s shaking.”
“He loves it,” Daniel growled. “Don’t you, baby?”
I couldn’t answer. Not with Wes down my throat.
But I moaned. Loud.
They both felt it.
Wes rocked his hips slow, teasing, his free hand stroking my jaw as he pulled back. I gasped for air, spit dripping down my chin. Daniel used that moment to slam in harder, deeper, making me cry out.
Wes grinned. “He sounds so good like this.”
“Pretty little thing,” Daniel said, breathless now. “Fuck, he was made for this.”
I couldn’t stop moving. My body was stuck in this loop—pulled forward, shoved back. My knees were bruised. My throat raw. My ass stretched wide.
But I didn’t want them to stop.
I wanted this.
I craved it.
Wes pushed back in, slow this time, dragging his cock across my tongue, watching my lips part and wrap around him.
Daniel matched it. His hips grinding into me with purpose now, angled just right.
They started talking to each other. Over me. Around me.
“You think he’s close?” Wes asked.
“Feel how tight he is,” Daniel muttered. “He’s been close.”
“You gonna let him cum?”
“Not yet.”
They both chuckled.
Like they were in on something. Some plan. And I was the piece being moved around.
I was dizzy from it. The rhythm. The heat. The way Wes kept petting my hair like I was something soft. The way Daniel kept rutting into me like I was something to ruin.
Then their hands unclasped. Just for a second.
Daniel grunted. “Switch.”
Wes stood. Daniel pulled out.
I collapsed to the floor, panting, face flushed, body shaking.
But they weren’t done.
Wes knelt behind me now. Daniel in front.
It was Wes’s turn to fuck me.
I looked up at Daniel—his cock wet, flushed, shiny. He cupped my jaw. Slid it across my lips.
“You want it?” he whispered.
I nodded.
He tapped it against my cheek. “Then open.”
I did. And he slid inside—slow, careful, like he wanted to feel every second of it.
Behind me, Wes was thicker now. Wetter. Hungrier.
I felt the pressure. Then the stretch.
Then he was in.
All the way.
I moaned around Daniel’s cock, my back arching.
“Fuck,” Wes groaned. “He’s perfect.”
Daniel’s hand was in my hair again, guiding me up and down. “You better not cum yet,” he warned.
I couldn’t promise that.
Not with Wes filling me up like that.
He gripped my waist tight, started to move. Rougher. Deeper. Like he’d been holding back and now couldn’t anymore.
Daniel’s rhythm matched his. One thrust in front. One behind.
Every time Wes slammed into me, I gagged on Daniel. Every time Daniel pulled back, Wes filled the space.
I was wrecked.
And I fucking loved it.
They didn’t talk now. They just used me.
Sweat dripped down my back. My legs shook. My cock bounced between my thighs, untouched, but leaking nonstop.
Wes slapped my ass once. Twice. Then grabbed it and spread me wider, fucking in deep.
Daniel was losing control, his moans sharper, hips stuttering.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I—I’m gonna—” I gasped, pulling off Daniel, mouth swollen, throat burning. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum—”
“No,” Daniel said.
“Not yet,” Wes added.
But it was too late.
My body gave up.
I came hard. All over the carpet. A mess. My arms shaking, my body twitching.
They didn’t stop.
Wes kept going. Fucking me through it. His moans louder now. More frantic.
Daniel stroked himself, watching me unravel.
And then—Wes tensed behind me.
“Shit—shit—”
He pulled out at the last second, jerking himself hard, and came across my lower back, thick and hot.
I collapsed forward, limp.
But Daniel wasn’t done.
He grabbed my face. Slid his cock back into my mouth. Fucked it fast. Desperate.
“Gonna cum,” he warned.
I moaned. Let him.
He groaned, then pulled out, finished across my lips. My chin. My chest.
I was covered.
Shaking. Used.
And fucking glowing.
Daniel helped me sit back.
Wes handed me a towel. His hand lingered on my thigh, gentle now.
Daniel knelt beside me. Kissed me. Not greedy. Just soft.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. Eyes hazy. Jaw sore.
“That was...” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Wes grinned. “That was the Eiffel Tower.”
Daniel laughed, low and warm. “We should do that again.”
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