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Ménage à Trois, it's harder than you'd think

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The gleaming white of the Peugeot turned Emilien's skin a warmer shade of nut-brown. His perspiration shone wetly over his brow and down the center of his chest, and pearled off the waxed hood.

"Daniel... please..."

Daniel grinned evilly, and carefully licked a wicked line up Emilien's hip, up the side of his twitching obliques and up his ribs.

"Mmphgh!" Emilien exclaimed, and bucked off the hood. Daniel tried to catch him, or at least keep him from denting his precious, but too late.

The Smurf was on the floor of the garage cum living room, rubbing the back of his head where he had hit it against the bumper on the way down, then staring with resigned lack of surprise at the motor oil he had managed to get all over himself.

Daniel bit his tongue hard, and managed to keep a straight face... he hoped.

"On second thought, I think your fantasy appeals more to me." He unceremoniously hauled Emilien up, threw him over his shoulder, and started up the metal stairs to his bedroom.


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