2 “Is he a good dicksucker?” he heard a voice filter across. Before he could search the man’s face for confirmation that he indeed was, he was being yanked sharply to his feet, the heat of multiple bodies cocooning him. A hand caught his chin, the fingers digging in hard, and a tongue forced itself into his mouth, the kiss harsh and insistent. He gasped into it, still breathless. He could feel the jacket being slid off of his arms, his belt being ripped from his hips. There were so many hands, wandering, touching, groping, pinching as his skin was bared. He strained to try to see the fate of his clothing as it was stripped off of his body, but went back to the kiss instead. He closed his eyes and sank into it, shivering as the heat of all of those men wafted onto his naked skin, oozing sweat and excitement and anticipation.
“Kinda gay kissing him,” one of the men said. “That mouth’s had a dick in it.”
He moaned into the stranger’s mouth, and a full-body shudder echoed through him, hearing it described as that mouth, that instrument, that thing to jack off into. He felt himself melt away, a lifetime of stress and anxiety and giving a fuck suddenly disappeared. Parting from the kiss, he accepted it as another hand gripped his hair, and he was faced with another man, green-eyed like himself.
“You want some more dick?” the voice caressed at his ear, and he nodded weakly, too aroused to form words. “That’s good because you’re gonna get some. You’re gonna get more dick than you fucking bargained for.” His head was yanked sharply and he was pulled lengthways. His mouth pulled onto another cock, as he battled and failed to suppress the moan racing through him at such a promise. The series of hands continued to wander across his legs and his chest and his ass as he began lapping and suckling at the new cock. He felt the chill as his pants were slid down his legs, and then squeaked around the cock in his mouth as a finger was sharply inserted into him with no lubrication. The man whose cock he was sucking lazily slapped at his face, before the fingers reentwined themselves in his hair and held him there, choking and spluttering, on cock. He slathered his tongue on the flesh, pouring his energy into worshipping it, smaller and fatter than the previous, with the musk of stale sweat overlaying the salty taste. He could feel a pair of hands grip him by the hips, manouevering him to best display his ass, and another pair of hands appreciatively run up and down the crevice. The squirt of something cold hit his hole, and then he groaned in desperate appreciation as he felt another cock force itself inside him with little preparation or care. God, this was exactly what he wanted. To become a thing, an object that existed to get fucked. A thing entirely separate from Kyle Broflovski, a thing that could stop thinking for once and just feel.
“Fuck,” a voice echoed across his shoulder. “He’s so fucking tight. It’s like he’s gonna squeeze my dick off.”
“If he does, don’t leave it in there,” a lighter voice, albeit shaky with arousal cut through. “You’re not wrecking my fucking turn.”
His aching tongue was granted some respite as the sounds of pleasure erupted from his lips entirely involuntarily, the harsh burn of the cock forcing itself into his ass bringing with it a desperate ache that seeped into all of his hidden contours and flushed them out. The blissful murmurs emerging from his throat rang in his own ears, serenaded by the noises coming from the others.
“He fucking loves it. Goddamn, what a little cumbucket.”
“Look at that. He’s devouring that dick dude.”
“What a fucking whore.”
He took a breath, let the momentum carry him along as the gasping and grunting of the stranger fucking his face washed over over him, melding with his own sighs of gratification. By now, his own dick was painfully hard and leaking furiously. And as one stranger fucked his ass, and another his mouth, he lifted a hand, tenuously, finding himself wavering in balance, as he grasped himself and slid his fingers up and down his own length. He almost bounced in place from the jolt of stimulation that diffused from his groin up his chest to his nipples, and then spread. As it hit his head, he felt his eyes roll back. He was so close. His first orgasm of the night.
And then one of the men grabbed at his wrist, and forced his hand onto a third cock.
“If you’ve got free hands, you can use them,” the man sneered into his ear. “There’s a lot of us waiting to fuck.”
His palm was already wet from touching himself, and he clumsily started to stroke, letting his own strained desperation seep untouched. He couldn’t see what he was doing, his face was still nestled in pubic hair, and his senses were too fogged. The man using his mouth came with a deep groan. The spurt hit him in the back of the throat, and as he pulled himself off, a cough escaped his lips. He stopped jacking the third man to wipe at the spit.
“I thought you were an experienced cumdumpster,” the man said who’d just come down his throat said with a faint note of disapproval. “Well. You will be after tonight.”
He was spluttering, the intensity of the energy barely giving him space to take a breath. He was still being fucked in the ass, the pounding becoming fiercer and harder in the wake of his fuckup. The man he’d abandoned jacking grabbed at his hair, and he met deep, brown eyes with a faint note of pleading in his own, feeling the itch of tears and snot dotting his face. He just needed the chance to get his breath back before taking a third cock in his mouth. Blinking his moist eyelids, he heard the man behind him shout, and then felt the splash of cum hit him at the base of the spine, barely a moment before another pair of hands grabbed his hips, and another cock slid inside his ass balls-deep, without the struggle from the first, the messy lubrication and cum mixture still swirling around his hole. The brown eyes looking down at him flashed with sympathy, and the stranger grabbed his chin in a vice-grip, and mashed his face up into his groin instead. A trail of precum glistened onto his cheekbones as it was rubbed against his skin, spurting and congealing in his eyebrow. He could feel hot spurts of jizz hit his body at odd angles, spurts from so many different dicks that he couldn’t even fucking see. That liquid marking his skin, branding him, drowning him in the thrill of fucking used like that.
Kyle whined with pleasure as his face was used to masturbate the guy. He leaned into the touch, juddery and unsteady as he was still being thrown with the force of the man fucking him from behind, sending bolts of pleasure shocking its way through his nerves. His own hardon was throbbing more insistently, more needily. It was so fucking loud it was drowning out everything happening around it. The onslaught of the humiliating mess being made of his face, and the deep, embedded pleasure from that special spot deep inside him worked in tandem, sending ragged bolts of ecstasy singing in his blood, and throwing his head back, with a cry, he finally felt himself nearing climax. Departing from his senses, and just basking in the pleasure being dealt into his flesh, the grasping, desperate clenching in his skin crescendoed to a giddy height and as gurgles and moans spilled from his lips, he felt his own orgasm wrack him with shudders of bliss. His body became slack. The cock in front of his face shot against his cheek, and he was pulled upright, pressed against the heated body of the man behind as he cursed and muttered and pumped. He tried to wrap his own arm back around the body holding him. But it was too much effort in the pleasured bliss, and he simply let himself be manipulated.
Re: Kyle/mob, gangbang, rough fucking
“Is he a good dicksucker?” he heard a voice filter across. Before he could search the man’s face for confirmation that he indeed was, he was being yanked sharply to his feet, the heat of multiple bodies cocooning him. A hand caught his chin, the fingers digging in hard, and a tongue forced itself into his mouth, the kiss harsh and insistent. He gasped into it, still breathless. He could feel the jacket being slid off of his arms, his belt being ripped from his hips. There were so many hands, wandering, touching, groping, pinching as his skin was bared. He strained to try to see the fate of his clothing as it was stripped off of his body, but went back to the kiss instead. He closed his eyes and sank into it, shivering as the heat of all of those men wafted onto his naked skin, oozing sweat and excitement and anticipation.
“Kinda gay kissing him,” one of the men said. “That mouth’s had a dick in it.”
He moaned into the stranger’s mouth, and a full-body shudder echoed through him, hearing it described as that mouth, that instrument, that thing to jack off into. He felt himself melt away, a lifetime of stress and anxiety and giving a fuck suddenly disappeared. Parting from the kiss, he accepted it as another hand gripped his hair, and he was faced with another man, green-eyed like himself.
“You want some more dick?” the voice caressed at his ear, and he nodded weakly, too aroused to form words. “That’s good because you’re gonna get some. You’re gonna get more dick than you fucking bargained for.” His head was yanked sharply and he was pulled lengthways. His mouth pulled onto another cock, as he battled and failed to suppress the moan racing through him at such a promise. The series of hands continued to wander across his legs and his chest and his ass as he began lapping and suckling at the new cock. He felt the chill as his pants were slid down his legs, and then squeaked around the cock in his mouth as a finger was sharply inserted into him with no lubrication. The man whose cock he was sucking lazily slapped at his face, before the fingers reentwined themselves in his hair and held him there, choking and spluttering, on cock. He slathered his tongue on the flesh, pouring his energy into worshipping it, smaller and fatter than the previous, with the musk of stale sweat overlaying the salty taste. He could feel a pair of hands grip him by the hips, manouevering him to best display his ass, and another pair of hands appreciatively run up and down the crevice. The squirt of something cold hit his hole, and then he groaned in desperate appreciation as he felt another cock force itself inside him with little preparation or care. God, this was exactly what he wanted. To become a thing, an object that existed to get fucked. A thing entirely separate from Kyle Broflovski, a thing that could stop thinking for once and just feel.
“Fuck,” a voice echoed across his shoulder. “He’s so fucking tight. It’s like he’s gonna squeeze my dick off.”
“If he does, don’t leave it in there,” a lighter voice, albeit shaky with arousal cut through. “You’re not wrecking my fucking turn.”
His aching tongue was granted some respite as the sounds of pleasure erupted from his lips entirely involuntarily, the harsh burn of the cock forcing itself into his ass bringing with it a desperate ache that seeped into all of his hidden contours and flushed them out. The blissful murmurs emerging from his throat rang in his own ears, serenaded by the noises coming from the others.
“He fucking loves it. Goddamn, what a little cumbucket.”
“Look at that. He’s devouring that dick dude.”
“What a fucking whore.”
He took a breath, let the momentum carry him along as the gasping and grunting of the stranger fucking his face washed over over him, melding with his own sighs of gratification. By now, his own dick was painfully hard and leaking furiously. And as one stranger fucked his ass, and another his mouth, he lifted a hand, tenuously, finding himself wavering in balance, as he grasped himself and slid his fingers up and down his own length. He almost bounced in place from the jolt of stimulation that diffused from his groin up his chest to his nipples, and then spread. As it hit his head, he felt his eyes roll back. He was so close. His first orgasm of the night.
And then one of the men grabbed at his wrist, and forced his hand onto a third cock.
“If you’ve got free hands, you can use them,” the man sneered into his ear. “There’s a lot of us waiting to fuck.”
His palm was already wet from touching himself, and he clumsily started to stroke, letting his own strained desperation seep untouched. He couldn’t see what he was doing, his face was still nestled in pubic hair, and his senses were too fogged. The man using his mouth came with a deep groan. The spurt hit him in the back of the throat, and as he pulled himself off, a cough escaped his lips. He stopped jacking the third man to wipe at the spit.
“I thought you were an experienced cumdumpster,” the man said who’d just come down his throat said with a faint note of disapproval. “Well. You will be after tonight.”
He was spluttering, the intensity of the energy barely giving him space to take a breath. He was still being fucked in the ass, the pounding becoming fiercer and harder in the wake of his fuckup. The man he’d abandoned jacking grabbed at his hair, and he met deep, brown eyes with a faint note of pleading in his own, feeling the itch of tears and snot dotting his face. He just needed the chance to get his breath back before taking a third cock in his mouth. Blinking his moist eyelids, he heard the man behind him shout, and then felt the splash of cum hit him at the base of the spine, barely a moment before another pair of hands grabbed his hips, and another cock slid inside his ass balls-deep, without the struggle from the first, the messy lubrication and cum mixture still swirling around his hole. The brown eyes looking down at him flashed with sympathy, and the stranger grabbed his chin in a vice-grip, and mashed his face up into his groin instead. A trail of precum glistened onto his cheekbones as it was rubbed against his skin, spurting and congealing in his eyebrow. He could feel hot spurts of jizz hit his body at odd angles, spurts from so many different dicks that he couldn’t even fucking see. That liquid marking his skin, branding him, drowning him in the thrill of fucking used like that.
Kyle whined with pleasure as his face was used to masturbate the guy. He leaned into the touch, juddery and unsteady as he was still being thrown with the force of the man fucking him from behind, sending bolts of pleasure shocking its way through his nerves. His own hardon was throbbing more insistently, more needily. It was so fucking loud it was drowning out everything happening around it. The onslaught of the humiliating mess being made of his face, and the deep, embedded pleasure from that special spot deep inside him worked in tandem, sending ragged bolts of ecstasy singing in his blood, and throwing his head back, with a cry, he finally felt himself nearing climax. Departing from his senses, and just basking in the pleasure being dealt into his flesh, the grasping, desperate clenching in his skin crescendoed to a giddy height and as gurgles and moans spilled from his lips, he felt his own orgasm wrack him with shudders of bliss. His body became slack. The cock in front of his face shot against his cheek, and he was pulled upright, pressed against the heated body of the man behind as he cursed and muttered and pumped. He tried to wrap his own arm back around the body holding him. But it was too much effort in the pleasured bliss, and he simply let himself be manipulated.