"'m not gonna last. she's so tight, so warm—mhm! 'm so close already, so—fuck!"

DUNCAN whimpers every time he drives his hips forward, and AERION just cannot stand it.

the shorter of the two keeps a tight grip on his camcorder, with the leather handle sliding as it always does against his skin.

it's all familiar to him by now: the weight, the shape, and the shiny, glossy texture, the device nestled in his palm as he directs the lens to the spot in which DUNCAN’s long, fat cock disappears inside of you. there’s another camera propped on a tripod by the edge of the bed, filming a steady, careful roll that contrasts AERION’s messy hand-held tape.

it’s the way your subscribers like it, anyways.

since you and AERION began posting on your shared onlyfans, the dual perspective has been greatly favored amongst your viewers. it had been your idea: giving your audience a wider, more polished view while also letting them in closer, deeper, making your videos more intimate by taking turns filming from your own perspectives as you and your boyfriend made each other feel good.

and because he loves you, and because he treasures every precious idea to come out of your pretty, gorgeous head, he had somehow listened to your most foolish one, and had accepted a smiley, beefy hunk into your bed for a video.

at first, he thought you were joking when you suggested it.

you had discovered DUNCAN's profile after a video of him had gone viral, and quickly noticed he did not film the same kind of content you and AERION usually did: he filmed solo, in what seemed to be his bedroom, with a camera that had way less of a professional quality than the one your boyfriend liked to use. he'd be sat on his bed, propped against the frame, pumping his cock into his hand, or his pillow, or some other kind of makeshift toy while he moaned, and whimpered, and blabbered.

he was massive: all bulging muscles and kilowatt smiles, with a cock that sprung too long and hung too thick for you to recognize that filming something with him would be more than beneficial for all three of your careers. he seemed sweet. he seemed fresh. and he was eager to collaborate with you the moment you messaged him, offering him an oportunity to film a video alongside two of the site's top creators.

you told your boyfriend over coffee. and, at first, you thought AERION was joking when he agreed.

and perhaps he should have been, he realizes, because if only he had refused, he would be fucking you like you deserved to be fucked: hard, fast, and deep, with a vibrator pressed against your clit or a plug nestled inside your ass. hard, fast, and deep, like you ought to be fucked, and not—not whatever DUNCAN is doing, with his desperate thrusts and his pathetic pace, and his hands clutching at your hips and pawing at your tits like it's the first time he's ever even fucked someone.

but, well, much to his annoyance, you have come to find that there is little that AERION will say no to whenever you are concerned. and, damn you, but despite the taller man's performance, your boyfriend knows you will end up being right, and the video will most likely end up doing numbers.

you'll be happy. satisfied.

and AERION already knows you'll suggest to title this something along the lines of 'sweet, shy stunner has her holes split open by two massive cocks', or something of the sort, and choose some thumbnail that has your lips wrapped around your boyfriend's dick while DUNCAN fucks you from behind.

well—if DUNCAN can hold himself from spilling his load for long enough to film a good take, that is.

because, see, the thing is, DUNCAN does not fuck you the way AERION does.

his strokes are not careful, mindful, or experienced. his tip does not know which spot to hit, and his hands do not know where to rest. he does not know what to say, how to sound, how to angle his hips—no. where AERION is quiet whimpers, DUNCAN is unrepentant mumbling. where AERION is a known intimacy, DUNCAN finds your pleasure a map open for his charting: open, unfamiliar, new.

and where AERION is polished edges and pristine performances, DUNCAN is messy urges and sloppy motions.

and so they have you in-between their frames, resting on your hands and knees, with your back arched and your face pressed against your boyfriend's form.

AERION's dick is shoved deep inside your mouth, and DUNCAN is all but hunched over your back, filling you with his length and stretching you with his girth. he throbs, pulses and twitches, with his full, heavy balls slapping against your clit every time he moves forward.

he does not fuck you the way your boyfriend does, but by the seven, you're moaning just the same.

your lips are stretched around AERION's base, tongue coated in his seed, nose buried in a patch of coarse, silvery hair. his free hand is resting on top of your head, lithe fingers curled around your soft strands, and you're drooling down the side of your mouth.

and still, your boyfriend is not satisfied.

he does not smile, nor does he smirk—but his eyes glisten with mischief, and your breath catches in anticipation.

"fuck her harder," AERION slips from between clenched teeth. he's throbbing on your tongue, still leaking after his orgasm, and you're breathing fast around his skin, gulping hard as you pant and moan and whimper as DUNCAN has you chasing yours. "fuck her better."

"‘m tryin’, she’s just—"

"well, try harder. make her cum."

he purses his lips, waiting for the taller to reply, but DUNCAN does not. can not. 

he thrusts inside you, fast, wild, unrepentant—and a part of him tries to pay mind to AERION's words before he is fully lost in his pleasure. he grunts and throws his head back, flexing the muscles of his back as he keeps his hands on your hips, pulling your ass back against his pelvis as his balls draw tight and he paints your guts in white.

your hands move back, gripping the plump of his thighs as he keeps you latched onto him, and your nails dig into his skin.

and it’s the stretch, and it’s the heat, and it’s the way he’s holding you so close to him that you don't know where he ends and you begin, and your mind is spinning with how good it feels. your mouth is still coated in your boyfriend's release, your lips are still swollen around his cock. your walls flutter around DUNCAN's pulsing, twitching length, and it's the stretch, and it's the heat, and bliss crashes over you when you realize just how stuffed full they're making you.

DUNCAN is all you can feel and AERION is all you can taste, and your mind is spinning, and your skin is covered in goosebumps. and you never want to feel anything that is not this.

anything that is not them.

and so DUNCAN keeps his eyes shut as he moves his hips forward in slow, shallow thrusts, riding his high, trying to render your moans into memory as you cry out in pleasure around your boyfriend's girth.

"well, you gave her an orgasm, at least," AERION mutters, voice low. for a moment, you think it resembles a growl with how hungry it sounds. "least you could do with that thick fucking meat you got hanging between your legs."

and it's not enough. tsk. he'll have to show him how it's done.

he'll just have to get DUNCAN to watch as he pulls out of your mouth, with his cock still leaking with his seed and coated in your spit. he'll have to have him watch as helps you turn over on your bed until you're resting on your back, and as he spreads your thighs wide open until your messy, gaping holes are exposed to the both of them. 

and he'll just have to have him watch as he crawls between your legs and splits your perfect, delicious cunt open inch by inch until you're moaning his name.

DUNCAN, just like the rest of the world, will have to watch.

and, well, he'll have to learn that there's nothing AERION loves more than having your pretty, shaking legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounds fast, hard, deep inside your cunt while the tape continues to roll away. he'll have to learn that there's nothing he loves more than fucking you right, the way that you deserve.

AERION's cock stings with overstimulation as he fucks it deep, deep inside, marking you as his, making sure your body knows whose cock to answer to, whose load to take. DUNCAN's is already leaking out and dripping down, warm and thick, collecting at the base of AERION’s cock in a ring of white as he thrusts, and thrusts, and thrusts.

he angles his hips upwards and points the camera to where the base of your belly responds to the outline of his cock every time he moves forward, and DUNCAN's eyes are, like everyone elses' will be, glued to the sight. the taller takes his own cock into his hand, aching and hurting, and, holding his breath, pumps it slow from base to tip in a motion that tries to mirrors AERION's pace.

gods, what a pretty sight you are. and on that, your boyfriend supposes the two can agree.

"you can give me one more, can't you, baby? come on—be a doll and show him you can take one more—yeah, that's right. mhm, you just need to be fucked properly, yeah? fuck, look at how she's sucking me in. she just needed me, didn't she? mhm, show him, doll—"

he can only hope DUNCAN is paying attention. he just hates having to repeat himself.