Bound Gang Bangs by Kink
The moon was a pale, indifferent witness outside my window when the familiar, heavy knock fractured the silence. James filled the doorway, his silhouette a dark promise of the unseen hours to come, with Henry and John a silent, looming chorus behind him. My breath hitched, a trapped bird in my chest, as his gaze traveled over me with a possessiveness that made my skin feel both cold and flushed. He stepped inside, the scent of night air and cheap cologne clinging to his coat, and his thumb traced a slow, deliberate line from my temple to my jaw. I focused on the worn pattern of the rug, each thread a path to a world far from this room where my compliance was the currency for my fragile freedom. A soft, broken sigh escaped my lips as his friends moved in, their presence a cage of shifting shadows and unspoken demands. The air grew thick with the heat of their bodies and the weight of their expectations, a suffocating blanket I had learned to endure. In these moments, I was not a person but a landscape for their conquest, my emotions buried deep beneath a practiced, placid mask. A single, hot tear betrayed me, tracing a solitary path down my cheek that he did not see. The night stretched on, an eternity measured in heartbeats and the quiet, crushing sound of my own surrender.
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