Someone wrote in [personal profile] south_park_kink_meme 2023-01-19 02:31 am (UTC)

Re: Kyle/mob, gangbang, rough fucking

An attempt was made, but I hope this makes sense bc I have a migraine.

1
The atmosphere was. Uncertain. Tinged with danger. Granted, Kyle was being incredibly fucking stupid right now. He felt that knowledge in him, and a smirk hit his face. Incredibly fucking stupid. His life was so rigid, so planned out, so unbelievably perfect on the surface of it that sometimes he felt as though the strain of holding it all together would rupture him. And when the strain of being so precise and so measured began to weigh too heavily, when he could feel himself about to burst, there was one solution. One emergency stop that would let all of that float away into an ephemeral nothing. And that was to surrender, to let go, to throw himself onto the whims of fate and let whatever happened happened. Find some people, and just submit, just let himself be used however they wanted, taste the danger and the flush of being completely at the mercy of people who didn’t give a fuck about him, wouldn’t ask if it was too much, just wanted to get off. It was his little secret. And he’d managed to keep it as such thus far. Kyle didn’t do anything by half-measures. When he felt that urge to be dominated, to let someone else decide, let someone else feel the strain and the responsibility, he wanted it to be as real as possible.

Which was how he ended up here. Hovering in the doorway of a strange apartment, a gaggle of total strangers huddling around him as the owner of the apartment fiddled with the key. He hadn’t had a plan for tonight. He never did when he got this urge. He just marched into the club and scouted. He was fairly certain that the group he’d assembled tonight were strangers to each other as well as him, but his gift for bluntness and directness had some advantages to it. In his personal relationships, it generally annoyed people. In a club, with the pulsing music thrumming, the heat of human bodies pressing together and the whisper of indiscretion hanging in the air, it made him a fucking king. He could search the room, scout for men who looked clean and reasonably attractive, approach and outright ask who wanted their dick sucked. He always got a thrill, sidling his finger over the rim of the glass as an enthusiastic yes bloomed in the stranger’s eyes, only to see realisation wash over them as he’d say “Good. Lets go find some more. Just you isn’t going to do it.” And beckoned them to follow. Sometimes they didn’t follow. That didn’t happen very often. But tonight, he’d selected his group, and now it was time to get into the apartment.

It had taken two taxis to transport all of them there. Scrunched in with a swell of men, he’d kept his gaze firmly on the window as they made awkward smalltalk with each other. He wanted to remain separate. Let them create as united a front as they could without him. It would streamline what he had in mind. He smacked away the groping hands, the light touches on the journey. They weren’t going to get anything until it was time. He wanted them aching, desperately horny, fucking ready to rip him apart, to fall on him like a pack of wolves on a stray lamb. His body was quivering with excited arousal as they neared the place.

Once inside, he felt the series of eyes trained on him. The apartment was pretty nice, cosy. Didn’t give off serial killer vibes. Part of him wouldn’t have cared if it had. That was what this was about. No limits.

“So,” a tall, black-haired man said. “How do we start?”

Kyle exhaled a breath, kneaded his palm against his hip. “It’s up to you guys.”

“Alright,” a sandy-haired shorter guy said, closing in and wrapping a possessive arm around Kyle. He could feel the man’s breath on his neck, and it sent pulses of anticipation rushing through his blood. “You wanna get fucked, right? You really wanna get fucked.”

He nodded, a slow, aroused gesture as the reality of his situation was sinking in. This was it. He was about to lose himself in sheer licentious debauchery, and the excitement hung thicker in his mind than the hardon pressed into his back. Or the growing hardons, and sight of the men surrounding him slowly starting to stroke as their own flushes of anticipation hit them.

“Fucking get to it then.”

Needing no further prodding, Kyle dropped to his knees, unfastened the man and pulled out his cock. Wordlessly, giving it a few pumps, he sank his mouth onto it, feeling the murmur of approval echoing in his own body as his tongue started to swirl and tease at the salty flesh. He could feel the gaze of all of those sets of eyes, burning into him as the performance went on, as though he was auditioning, as though he was pouring every ounce of energy that existed within him into worshipping the cock in his mouth, showing off what was on offer if the rest of them would give him their cocks too. He hummed and murmured around it, gazing momentarily upward to see the shuttered eyes, the faint smile on the strangers face. His knees were starting to twinge, and breathing deeply, he gave a few more pumps.

The shuddered arousal of anticipation was giving way to true need, and his own cock started to strain against the fabric, utterly ignored as he lavished all of his attention on those beads of precum seeping from the dick, pushing his tongue into the slit and teasing its way down the length. He gave an experimental lick to the man’s balls, before trailing his tongue slowly back up the cock, staying to lavish special attention to that ridge of skin. The man wrenched a hand in his scalp, and pushed him deeper onto it, his own impatience radiating off of him. Kyle sighed in happiness as he felt the roughness of the gesture, as the stranger took control and started to fuck his face. He struggled to stay in rhythm, to not be merely carried along as the assault continued unabated. The cock slamming into his mouth pistoned too quickly for him, the hips pumping up against his cheek, the frenetic heat of it as his mouth became just a hole to stick dick into. With a roar, he felt a hot spurt of liquid hit his face, and his hand rose to prod at the wetness. The sound of his own gasping breaths echoed in the air, as the man flung him down, and his face almost hit the ground before he pulled himself back up. He could feel the sweat pooling in his hair. Could only imagine how the rush of blood to his face must look. And his skin was on fire aching, tingling, burning to be touched. It had been a promising start. But still only a start.

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