It’s insane how he just takes it without a single whine.
It’s a massive turn-on.
“Who’s next after me?” I ask, looking at the guys. “Who still wants to fuck this sloppy mess?”
Grant grins, all teeth, rubbing his fat dick with a hard stroke. “Me. Gonna wreck that ass for good.”
I glance at his cock and smirk. “I’ll make sure it’s nice and loose for you, then.”
I pull my fist out, and let them all see the way Kit’s rim stays locked open.
Finn whistles. “Bro, you could fit a baseball bat in there.”
“No, it can’t,” Walker laughs, but he’s staring too.
“Should we try?”
I ignore their talk and line my cock up, not even bothering with a slow slide. I’m too hard, too fucking worked up, and I know his hole is loose enough, so I shove in balls-deep with one hard thrust.
He just takes it, his ass swallowing me like a loose glove. The noise is slick and sloppy, the sound of a hole well stretched and drenching and just how I like it. I pull out and slam back in, my balls slapping deliciously against his taint.
“Fuck, yeah,” Finn says, stroking himself again. “That’s savage, bro.”
I lean over Kit’s back, gripping his limp hips.
“You feel how open you are?” I groan in his ear, my hips pounding into him. “My cock is barely even stretching you now. You’re just a gaping wreck.”
I pull out almost all the way, just the tip kissing his rim, and look down at the mess I’ve made of him. His hole’s slack, gaping, dripping. I shove back in so hard his whole body jerks forward.
“Look at this pathetic little hole,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. “Can’t even close up anymore. Just stays open and ready, like it knows it’s only good for one thing.”
“What about guys who like it sloppy and dirty talk, man?”
“Grant’s the king of that nasty shit,” Finn adds. “His mouth’s as filthy as that log in his hand.”
“Fuck off, bro,” Grant says, but there’s no heat in it. I glance back and see his thick fist wrapped around his even thicker cock,stroking slowly. His eyes are glued to Kit’s hole. “My girl likes nasty talk.”
I chuckle, remembering Grant highlighting his book.
“You gonna fill it up after me?” I ask, my hips picking up speed. “Gonna make this pretty little hole take that horse cock of yours? Stretch it out even more?”
“Damn right,” Grant says. His free hand comes down on Kit’s ass. The smack echoes off the walls, and a bright red handprint blooms across Kit’s pale skin. “Gonna breed this slut. Look at how it gapes for it. Pathetic fuck-toy.”
The guys start arguing about what counts as “acceptable” dirty talk while I fuck Kit senseless, their voices overlapping. Grant’s talk is “vile” according to Finn, but Miles, stroking his long cock lazily, argues that “vile” is subjective. Also, according to them, I’m low level.
I don’t give a fuck. All I care about is the way Kit’s ass grips me, hot and tight despite how wrecked he is, the way his breath hitches when I angle my hips just right, the way his hole flutters around me.
I feel my orgasm building, hot and urgent, and I don’t fight it. I bury myself balls-deep and cum with a groan, pumping my load into his guts in thick spurts. Kit’s hole milks me through it, clenching and releasing and trying to get every single drop out of me. I give it to him. All of it. I want him full.
Then I collapse onto the bed next to him, panting.
Kit’s face is inches from mine, his mouth slack, drool pooling on the mattress under his cheek. There’s also a huge, sticky puddle of pre under his dick, soaking through the sheets. My bed’s gonna smell like him for weeks. Like sex, sweat and jock fluids. It makes me want to laugh.
Grant shoves between his thighs before I’ve even caught my breath, his thick cock nudging the ruined hole.
“Finally,” he grunts, and rams his dick in without care.
I watch Kit’s face.
