Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Enthusiast

these were the rejected ones

which is the beginning of the end for this recruitment table because as soon as gaz his that gun in his hands he's checking it over to start disassembly. and once he starts there's no stopping him, the recruiter turns around to grab a pamphlet and when he turns back the gun is in pieces on the table while gaz inspects the parts.

simon? he slaps with weight. his cock is heavy, girthy, and he sort of just lets it drop against you, wet, blunt smacks across your lips and clit until you’re slick enough that every smack sounds obscene and you’re whining for him to just put it in already.

price slides his. he doesn’t tease so much as he just wants to watch his cock coat with your come. dragging the length of himself through your lips slowly, getting himself nice and wet until his fat head finally catches at your entrance on its own.

kyle’s the kind to feed you only the tip just to pull it out and drag the whole length of his cock up to your clit and back down, notches the head in again, pulls out, drags it back up. he’ll get lost doing it too if you let him, ten-fifteen minutes of it.

You look up, already annoyed because it’s Johnny soap mactavish, your roommates best friend that you find to be more of a pest than anything else.

“Excuse me? Why are you even here? Kyle’s out.”

He ignores the latter question. “That guy last night? Fakest moans I’ve heard in a long time.”

You throw your pillow at him “piss off.”

He chuckles, grabbing the pillow from you, “maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight if you just got a good lay in ya.”

Which is how you end up sprawled on your bed with two of soaps fingers sunken into your pussy. “T-this is only happening once by the way.”

He rolls his eyes, curling his fingers upwards at a nasty angle that causes your hips to buck. “Dinnae worry, Princess. I got the message the last four times ya said it.”

His fingers are thick and his palm is calloused as it slams against your clit with each pump of his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to believe that Johnny might be right and he in fact might be the best lay you’ll ever have.

“Tell me, doll. What was it like? Did’ya ride his face since he can’t eat ya out properly or is he not enough for a pillow princess like you?”

The scowl on your face tells him you have some choice words as a response but he quickly cuts you off. “Oh please, we all know you’re definitely a pillow princess.”

He leans down, blowing against your tender clit before suckling at it lightly. Your legs tremble, threatening to close but a gentle spank followed by a large palm pressing against your thigh keeps you open.

The build up comes quicker than you’d like to admit. Your shallow breathes don’t do anything to hide the fact that you’re about to cum.

oh god- you’re cumming…cumming, cum-

You gasp at the sudden removal of his presence. You look up in shock, finding a smug Johnny between your legs. By the look on his face, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Fuck him.

“Beg for me, doll. Tell me you’re sorry for being such a brat all the time.”

You refuse. You might be teetering the edge of an orgasm but you still have your pride.

However, your refusal doesn’t put him off, instead he inches closer, fingers playing with your folds as if they were pages of a book. “It would be no fun if you were compliant anyways.”

You learn Johnny is a stubborn man- ruining orgasm after orgasm. He brings you to your high quickly, reckless demeanor contrasting with his precise movements.

Even when your pussy is squeezing his cock like it doesn’t want to let go, he finds the will to pull out and leave you shamefully pulsing around nothing.

He does this over and over and over- until you’re a sobbing mess. His name sounds so nice on your tongue followed by a broken “please” or “I’m sorry.”

But one isn’t enough. You’ve been a bitch to Johnny in the past, as he had been to you (but Johnny ignores this fact), and he plans on getting his fill all in one night.

You’re shaking and sweating, holding the base of the chair so tightly that your knuckles turn white. The circular sensation against your clit has been non stop and your brain is about to turn to mush because of it.

“You okay, love? You look tense.” You glare at price to which he gives you a knowing smirk. “Not too much now. I’m still your captain. Could send you to train the recruits if I wanted to.” There’s an intentional pause- as if to leave the mind to imagine. “although I doubt you’ll be able to demonstrate much in this state.”

You lift your hips off the chair in hopes to alleviate some of the friction but to no avail. A string of curses leaves your lips. “Fuck…I’m gonna cum.”

“Easy now.” Ghost chimes in. “Still in a briefing. Keep it professional, kid.”

“You could just take a guess- put an end to it.” Kyle so kindly suggests. There’s a few menacing chuckles in response. “Remember your forfeit though.”

And just like that- the sensation stops. It’s both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, you no longer have to climax in front of your team at a mission briefing, while on the other, your thighs are now rubbing against one another for any amount of friction that could just give you that relief you need.

Later in the day, Soap finds you curled up on a couch, clutching your lower abdomen and eyes just a little bit glazed over. “You look like shite.”

And you felt like it. “One of you fuckers has been edging me all day,” you mumble, pressing your legs so tightly together as if that would do you any good.

“At least you know it’s not me, you know I like to give ya what you want.”

You shoot him a glare- because Soap will let you cum. The problem is, that’s all he does. You’re climaxing at least once an hour when he has your pussy, and he’s not shy to experimenting.

He’ll grind the toy against the corner of his desk, he’ll hold it under running water, he’ll even go so far as to tie it to a vibrator as he’s sleeping just to make sure you’re left satisfied.

And the day will always end the same- soap locked inside his room while you’re banging for him with cute glistening tears, begging and sobbing for him to stop which just isn’t enough for him until you’re sitting in a puddle of your own arousal outside his door.

“C’mon, lass. Just take a guess.” He steps closer, lifting your chin with a finger. His eyes glimmer with excitement when he sees the way you’re practically looking through him and not at him. “You get it right, you get your cute cunnie back. And if you get it wrong…” he leans closer to your ear, “I’ll take ya first and you know I’m good at making ya cum.”

The offer is tempting, and you almost mutter a name in his advice but suddenly you gasp when you feel a low vibration make contact with your sore clit.

You hunch over, gripping the back of the couch. “What’s going on?” You don’t even have the strength to look up but from voice alone, you know it’s Gaz.

“Looks like someone’s having fun.”

Gaz’s eyes trace from a smug soap to a pitiful you. “What d’they got going on?”

Your voice strains as you try to speak. “V-vibe.”

Gaz nods in understanding. “Sounds like ghost or price. Me? I’m a traditional man.”

Soap snorts. “Oh, we know.”

Gaz, cursed at him, rolling his eyes with no real heat behind it. But soap was right. Gaz always talking about how he wants to meet the love of his life “naturally” and properly court her, have a romantic wedding, have two kids (one boy, one girl), basically he was traditional in every sense.

This includes in the bedroom where he doesn’t believe in the need for toys. Instead, he’ll plunge his fingers in your pussy till it’s sopping and crying, and then he’ll drink it all up with the tip of his nose pushing against the hood of you clit- all to do it over and over and over again.

The pair continue to argue but you drown out their voices as you feel that sinking feeling deep in your gut again. The vibrations are so perfectly pressed against your clit that it has you seeing stars.

It has to be price, right? The fingers from earlier were rough with experience but the movements themselves were patient and experienced. They move in perfect circles up and down your folds, playing with them like pages on a book before teasingly flicking against your clit.

Or is it ghost? It’s more likely for ghost to be using a vibrator than price. He loves his toys, has a whole fancy collection that are “just for testin’” he says. But usually ghost is a little rougher, isn’t he? So maybe it’s-

The thought is cut off when you feel a blunt, large head of a vibrator forcefully being pushed against your opening. Your eyes widen, and whoever is toying with you isn’t in the room but you instinctively scream anyways which draws the attention of both Gaz and soap. “waitwaitwaitwait- It won’t fit!”

God- fuck- it had to be him. It had to be. Oh shit, just say a name. Or is it price? No- he wouldn’t. Or? Fuck- you could literally count down the seconds as the head stretches you wider and wider and - “Ghost! Stop it!”

And just like that…it stops. And for a moment, it feels like time stops.

“Oh? Looks like we have a name.”

You’re panting for dear life, vision blurry as you curl up in the couch, oblivious to the rest of the team flooding in the room.

Price kneels by your side, placing a warm hand on your forehead and using his thumb to brush away the hair that sticks to your forehead.

Once you catch your breath, you roll over slowly. Your vision is a blur, but it gradually comes to focus and you recognize price’s look of concern with the rest of them peering over his shoulder.

“Did I get it right?”

The men pause, none of them giving it away, until you notice a twitch of Price’s mustache followed my an upward turn of a crooked smile. “Oh, fuck.”

A deep and amused laugh confirms what you already know and Soap is already taking off his belt, “I’m going first, lads.”

“Why do you go first? Price did all of the work.” Gaz retorts, finger twitching in retaliation.

“Called dibs. Didn’t I, lassie?”

Gaz lets out a sputter of disbelief. “Oi, You can’t just call dibs on something like that!”

“Her mouth is still open if you want it.” Soap is already at your legs, grabbing them by the ankles and pulling them apart.

my reaction to the mw4 trailer.......