𝜗𝜚 CALEB let's you use him in his sleep.
He’s barely awake, sprawled on his back, shirtless and warm, breathing slow and deep with one arm draped lazily across your body. His hair is tousled, his mouth parted just slightly, pink lips glistening with sleep. He smells like shampoo and fresh sheets, like home.
You’ve been laying on top of him for an hour now, your cheek squished against his thick pec, his steady heartbeat lulling you into a daze. But there’s one big, big problem.
Your core has been throbbing the entire time.
“Caleb~” you whisper, pouting as you wiggle a little against him. Your voice comes out sticky sweet, nearly a whine, lips brushing his skin as you press soft kisses to his chest.
He groans softly, barely shifting, palm massaging your thigh without thinking. “I know, pipsqueak…” he mumbles sleepily, “but mmmh… too tired…”
His voice is gravelly, thick with exhaustion, but the way his fingers squeeze your thigh—slow, deliberate—sends heat shooting straight to your core. You clench around nothing, breath catching at the dull ache between your legs.
“Use me, baby…” he whispers suddenly, not even opening his eyes. His voice drops low and broken, just shy of a whimper. “Mmmhh… wanna feel you too…”
You blink, stunned. “Wha—?” He just nods, still half-asleep, his arm falling limply back to the bed as he slips further into slumber. And now? Now your pussy’s practically drooling.
Your breath trembles as you slowly slide down his body, nuzzling lower, lower, until your nose presses into the warm bulge in his sweatpants. You inhale shakily—he smells like sweat and skin and him—and you press the softest kiss through the fabric. He stirs, a low whine escaping his throat, and you swear you see his hips shift the tiniest bit. So you do it again.
Another soft kiss. Another nuzzle. Your tongue darts out and licks a little stripe through the cotton, and he moans. A sweet, sleepy sound, head tipping back on the pillow, brows furrowed like he’s dreaming of exactly what’s happening.
You slide his waistband down just enough to free his cock—heavy, flushed, already twitching even in sleep—and your lips part in awe. Your tongue presses flat against the underside of it, licking slowly from base to tip before wrapping your mouth around the head.
He gasps, breath hitching, hips twitching weakly. “Mmhhnn… baby… yeah…” he breathes, not fully conscious but feeling everything. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as your saliva drips down his shaft. You moan around him, the vibration making his cock jerk in your mouth, his abs tightening beneath your palm. But he never opens his eyes—too tired, too wrecked.
When you climb back up and sink down onto him minutes later, he lets out the prettiest, broken sigh in his sleep, like you just made all his dreams come true.
You move slowly, grinding your hips down as you bite into his shoulder to muffle your sounds, tears pooling in your eyes at the stretch. His cock fits perfectly inside you even when he’s completely still, even when you’re the one doing all the work.
And Caleb? Still half-asleep. Still moaning. Still letting you use him.
You feel like a goddamn pervert riding your boyfriend’s dick while he’s drifting in and out of sleep, but when his arms weakly wrap around you and he breathes out, "so warm… feel so good, pipsqueak…"—
You know he loves it too.
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