You've tried every trick in the book; begging, whining, pawing, deals, hell you've resorted to straight-up asking him. To which he replies, in a smooth honeyed voice, “I just wanna make you feel good instead, pipsqueak. I feel good when you feel good.” It's absolutely infuriating in the most endearing way possible.

He must have been a robot in his past life to refuse such an eager request from you, out of all people.

It honestly makes you upset, frustrated to the point that you're positive he’s just a cruel man who enjoys seeing you tear up, tugging his shirt, begging for a small taste of him. The most you've gotten of his taste is the tang of his sticky cum off your fingers or an intoxicating cocktail of your shared climaxes, mixed between your tongues.

You want to feel him, all of him. You want his hot length between your lips, to feel the ache of his cock as it throbs on your wanting tongue. You want his dick, glossed in your gooey saliva and his pre-cum, to angle until the blunt tip bullies the back of your throat. You want to look up at him through your lashes, drops of tears collected on your waterline, and see the prettiest flush on his face as he looks down at you on your knees, worshiping him as he does for you. Internally, you want him to make you take all of him.

It's upsetting too since he's such a hypocrite, a man who understands your position exactly. Caleb could spend hours between your thighs, suckling and lapping at the soft folds of your twitchy pussy until his mouth and chin drool with your addictive wetness. He begs for it and you give in, every single time.

Can you blame him? He’s been waiting for years to get a taste of you. He just can't get enough of the way you whimper out his name, fingers pulling and tugging at the soft strands of his dark mahogany hair, writhing from the pleasure he gives you. But he also doesn’t seem to understand the brevity of your current situation; what’s so difficult about letting his lover suck him off!?

And so your final plan begins, one you’re certain will work: you will definitely achieve your dream of having Caleb's cock down your throat on the night of his birthday. Specifically, taking him in all the way until he bruises the back of your mouth and leaves your throat sore and voice hoarse the next morning. You figured it’d be a nice surprise along with all the other gifts you’ve spent days planning. After all, this is a birthday meant only for him.

Unfortunately, it’s always been difficult to surprise Caleb.

Ever since you two were young, he’s been difficult to surprise. The man simply knows you too well, every action out of order you make causes him to increase an inkling of suspicion that he immediately snuffs out of you through devious means. It really can’t be helped though, he has known you for your entire life, lived an eternity in your own skin.

And there’s another problem you figured would throw a kink in your plans. Everything about Caleb is big, his height, thighs, biceps… and especially his cock.

You can still recall the first time you two slept together, you were sore for days. The satisfying ache of your burning thighs always served as a reminder of your time together. And even now, no matter how much you took him or how much time he spent trying to stretch your tight cunt to accommodate his thick length, he always felt so full inside you.

So it'd be difficult (and unwise) to try and immediately have him balls deep in your throat, fucking and rocking his hips into your warm mouth until you're drooling and gagging.

But if Caleb had a match in determination and perseverance, it'd be you. You're willing to do anything to get that man in your mouth, you'll make him see what he's been denying himself of.

That's how you find yourself perched on your knees, the night before Caleb’s birthday, licking your lips while your eyes are locked onto the daunting purple dildo plastered on your wall. It’s out of place in your room. Honestly, the ridiculous item shouldn’t be here when you have a lover perfectly willing to go along with whatever you wish, all except for your deepest desire to give him head.

It's certainly no Caleb. The toy lacks his intoxicating warmth, his sensual musk that clings, and the satisfying thickness of his cock that stretches your pretty pussy so well, reaching into the deepest parts of you.

As you run your tongue along the cold underside, feeling the blunt ridges of the plastic veins pressing down onto your wet muscle, you can only dream that it's Caleb instead. You envision that it's his pulsing veins, throbbing for the warmth of your soothing tongue like a balm for his arousal, his cock that weighs heavily in your mouth.

Your eyes flutter shut, trying your best to take the toy in deeper until it fills the warm cavern of your mouth completely, jaw slack and drool dripping from the corners of your lips, stretched wide around the purple plastic. The tip barely teases the back of your throat but you find yourself gagging, saliva sticking to the toy in webs as you pull off.

You imagine that it's Caleb panting above you, cheeks flushed with the prettiest shade of crimson, looking down at you with a gentle hand threaded into the strands of your hair, guiding you back to his aching cock that leaks with the tang of his pre and your spit, eagerly feeding his girth to you. His eyes would be glazed with the familiar look of want and need, hips bucking sloppily into the warm wetness as you allow him to fill up the space of your throat, setting the rhythm however he pleases.

And fuck, the thought of him like that soaks you. You want him to use your mouth, claim it as nothing but a hole for his pleasure. Maybe it's his devoted personality or the contrast of his usual composure, but you want him to lose control, to fuck into your mouth without restraint, using you for all the pleasure he gives you.

Quickly, your fingers slide down your body. The soft pads of your digits tweak at your sensitive nipples and your back curves into a beautiful arch, searching for your own touch. Your free hand slithers down even lower, gliding down the expanse of your stomach, further past the waistband of your shorts, diving below the sopping fabric of your panties.

The sweetest gasp is elicited when your middle and forefinger find your clit, shivering and moaning around the plastic in your mouth as you caress in slow circles, trying your best to mimic the familiarity of Caleb's movement if he were here. It's almost absurd how sensitive you feel, like your nerves are shot, already feeling overstimulated even though you're barely gracing yourself with the wisps of euphoria.

Gradually, your slow rotations turn faster, collecting globs of your heady slick to rub tight circles around your wanton clit. The wetness allows your finger to slide into your fluttering pussy with ease, stroking along the gummy walls that clench greedily, angling into the sweet spot that has your moans vibrating onto the dildo.

But it shouldn't be this stupid toy you're moaning around, shouldn't be your fingers you're fucking yourself stupid on, it should be Caleb. It should be Caleb's heavy cock you choke on, his fingers that pump into you, pressing against that spot that has your toes curling and the tight knot bubbling in your stomach.

Even if this is his surprise, you want him here, watching you. You want his eyes to look at you like he always does, hungry and wanting. You want him to touch you, to feel his warm palms as they slide down the expanse of your body, groping at your tits, and playing with your sensitive clit. You want him here.

"Pipsqueak?"

Shit.

Before you can help it, your orgasm barrels through your traitorous body, shocking into your nervous system like igniting sparks of lightning. It's a matter of split seconds before you jump away from the toy, your body heaving with heavy breaths and your cheeks burning red. Your eyes snap up to him and the expression of shock set on his beautiful features, you look away, around the room before you realize the position you're in.

What the hell do you even say? Shouldn't he be in Skyhaven? You’re supposed to meet at his house tomorrow, so why the hell is he here?

It feels like a million beats of your heart passes by before you start hesitantly, eyes flickering up to him. "Cal-"

"What are you doing?"

He cuts you off, eyes baring down on your kneeling form, pupils roaming over your body. For a second, you wonder if he's upset, but as your gaze migrates down his body, settling on the bulge hidden in his pants, it doesn't seem that way. Rather, quite the opposite.

Well, better now than never. Your surprise is already ruined anyway.

"Just…" You trail off, swallowing the built up saliva in your sore throat. An excuse fails to rise in your mind, too far gone in the moment to even think about denying what he's just witnessed.

Heavily, you sigh, heat creeping up your neck before you find the words quickly spilling from you, created in a rush of flustered anger before even processing what you’re saying.

"I just wanna give you a blowjob and you won't let me, Caleb! What am I supposed to do but suck on this stupid toy because you won't let me give you head!? You wanna eat me out every time we have sex and I always let you, but you won't let me give you head! You're a hypocrite!"

Rather indignantly during your haphazard flurried spew of words, you reach for the wet dildo that's still suctioned to your wall, fingers clasping around it as you pull it off and fling the purple plastic his way, missing his frozen body completely.

“It’s always like this! I don’t understand why you’re denying me, I just wanna make you feel good too! I just wanna give you a special present…”

He doesn't say anything, no response to your words that are obviously created for him to take pity on you, a final surge to get what you want. He simply watches you until a small, sympathetic smile makes its way to his pink lips, pants growing taut against his arousal.

You’re just too cute.

Caleb hopes you don't blame for getting hard (or do blame him, he wants your attention). He can't help the betrayal of his body's reaction to his gorgeous lover, partly because he walked in on you with your hands between your thighs, and a toy stretching your throat, and partly because he's never realized how good you look on your knees.

It's a sight he never lets himself indulge in.

It's bad, it's something he'll get too addicted to. It’s the ripe beckon of a forbidden fruit hanging off a low branch that he must tear himself away from.

A greedy man like him should never get something like that from you, not when he should be the one pleasing you. He's satisfied enough with getting to feel your cunt fluttering around his cock, your lips on his, and the taste of you. Even with simply that, he's already too far gone.

He'd never tell you but that's a reason why he's insistent on not letting your warm mouth encase his cock. Caleb is a man who knows himself well. He knows that the moment your tongue runs along the sensitive veins, soft cheeks hollowing around the ridges of his dick — he'll be goner, reduced to a man at your euphoric mercy, even more so than he already is.

So he can't do it. Can't indulge in himself more than he already does with your body, even if it tortures him every time to rebuke your attempts (to be honest, he also likes seeing you beg). But when you're crawling to him, sitting at his feet, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, and leaning forward until your soft mouth is pressed to the strained fabric, he doesn't find himself telling you off.

"Please, Caleb?" You whine, voice sending the smallest vibrations through his cock, slithering up through his nerves to paint the apples of his cheeks red.

He was so strong and disciplined the other times so why not now? Is it because he caught you, knuckles deep in your own pussy, moaning around a cock or because he's been denying himself of this act for so long? Or because you’re doing this for him?

Perhaps both, but he blames the sight of you already on your knees, eager to please, even eagerer because it's him.

And all of a sudden, it's too hot. You're too pretty, too eager, such a pretty girl begging for something so dirty. Something he knows he shouldn't give into.

"What are you doin' to me?" His voice cracks, a whisper, a final plea before you see that reluctant look in his eye, Adam's apple bobbing with the heavy gulps of saliva.

Checkmate.

With eager hands, you're pushing his shirt up slightly to expose the ridge of his iliac furrow, taking in the quiet stuttering of his shallow breath as your lips find his hot flesh, kissing your way lower to follow the trail of his pants being pulled down.

"Thank you, Caleb." You murmur gently, mouth panting against the thin briefs that stand as the only layer between you and your well earned prize.

For a second, Caleb thinks you're teasing him, toying with him since he denied you of this for so long, but your voice sounds genuine. Too grateful, too reverent for him. He thinks he might cum just from the pressure of your wispy breath and the vibrations of your syllables.

"Don't, fuck, don't say things like that when you're on your knees like this." He throws his head back, fingers clenched at his sides as he looks down upon your kneeling form. He really can't believe he's letting you do this. But if it were anyone, it’d have to be you.

And he sucks in a breath when your soft, warm tongue swipes across his sensitive, leaky tip, a broken whine ripping from his throat at the slight pressure. The pleasure bubbles from his stomach, crawling through his nerves, climbing effortlessly to muddle his brain. He can't help the way his hips almost twitch, his body almost too eager to give into the sliver of attention to his throbbing ache, too excited to delve into your inviting warmth.

He's absolutely doomed.

You almost smile when he croaks out your name, a plea of sorts, a whine to relieve what you've started. With great pleasure, you blink up at him, your own breath hitching when you catch sight of his heaving chest, his bottom lip tugged between the rows of his teeth, cheeks flushed a heavy pink at your ministrations.

Caleb's lavender irises hold set on your kneeling form, drinking in how the head of his cock rests on your pink tongue, drooling precum, and how eagerly you lap it all up. He wants to look at you, but when you run your tongue along the thick, sensitive veins, his eyes flutter tightly shut as if the pleasure will soothe away and he can find it in himself to not shoot his load all over your face.

The mental image does not help at all. Rather, he feels himself getting harder in the walls of your mouth. It's so vivid in his mind, your cheeks stained with his hot load as you blink up at him, tongue lolled out to show how well you swallowed his seed.

It's filthy. The scenario is one he often indulges in on nights alone with his fingers wrapped tightly around the sticky flesh of his throbbing cock, stroking himself off to the thought of his cock stuffing your cheeks, and never in your presence. But now, you've got him wrapped around your finger and buried in your mouth. He's sure you're pleased with yourself right now.

And you are, quite so now that you have what you want. As you run your tongue along the underside of his cock, admiring its sheer size and how heavy it is as it rests against your face, you also notice how Caleb looks at this moment; heat blooming across his cheeks, eyes squeezed shut, and hands fisted at his side like touching you will burn him more than his body already is.

You allow yourself to wrap your lips around the tangy head of his cock, suckling softly while your hands reach for his, gently guiding them to rest on the strands of your hair. His fingers twitch, almost burying into the tendrils of hair, but he doesn't, holding onto that last bit of restraint in his muddled mind.

It pisses you off. You're on your knees for him (literally) and he still wants to hold back?

With a soft moan bubbling in your throat, you sink deeper onto his cock. An act that finally has his fingers curling around your hair and a hissing gasp to escape him. Even with only a few inches filling your throat, it nearly burns. A familiar stretch that you're used to filling up your slick pussy cunt rather than the cavern of your mouth.

Your saliva builds around his girthy dick, slickening the swift bobbing of your head, making it easier to glide down along his length. The brief practice on the toy did little to help because the way his dick stuffs your throat is vastly different. He's warm, hard, and moaning the sweet syllables of your name, all things that the piece of plastic severely lacked. And all things that have the space in your thighs growing slick once more.

Caleb can't help himself any longer. He can't help the way his fingers curl into the strands of your hair, tugging gently despite his best attempts not to. Can't help the whining and groaning of your name that fall from his lips. He's so fucking hard, so sensitive, and the gentle constricting of your throat makes it all worse. His breath hitches, fingers uncurling to pet at your bobbing head, soothing the mussed strands — a praise his mouth fails to form.

Slowly, meticulously, like he's holding himself back, his hips rock against your mouth, pushing inches deeper until your own eyes squint shut and he's reaching places the toy didn't that has you gagging. And it almost makes him feel bad when he looks down at you, face stuffed full of his thick cock, veins drooling with your saliva, hands wrapped around the ridges of his dick that you can’t take down.

But he also can’t stop, not that you want him to. His mouth releases breathy groans, hips humping against your sloppy mouth with his head thrown back, cheeks flushed and hair sweaty. The evidence of your love and lust is strewn all over his body in waves of pleasure and euphoria.

Your throat envelopes his length so well, the symphony of lewd squelching fills the hot air of your bedroom, growing louder as you try to take him even deeper. A little too deep. His cock hits the back of your throat, gagging and almost spluttering in short coughs before you pull off, mouth open and bands of spittle connecting your tongue to the angry, flushed tip.

His palm doesn't move from your head when you back off, unrestrained whines tearing from his throat at the loss of your addicting warmth. His large hand pets your head gently in a soothing rhythm while he pants heavily, crooning soft reassurances. "You, fuck, okay, baby? Did so good for me, so, so good. You don't have to keep-"

His voice pitches when your tongue is on his cock once more, swallowing him into your mouth with vigor. His eyes are trained on you, flickering from your eyes to the way your mouth envelopes his thick girth, saliva wetting his throbbing veins. Praises spew from his mouth, soothing reassurances, hips bucking with the urgent need to cum.

"So gorgeous, ha, so pretty with my cock stuffed in your throat. My pretty girl, good girl, takin' it so well."

You bask in his generous praise, soaked between your thighs as you try to take him farther into your sloppy maw again, but you're prevented by his gentle hand rebuking you, holding you still on his cock, and subdued by his gentle reprimands. "Easy, no need to be so eager. ‘S all yours, all yours."

He moans it like he's coaxing himself. It's all yours, this is just for you and no one else. No one else sees him this vulnerable, this exposed, this desperate for a touch. Only for you.

He punctuates his words with lazy humps into your sloppy maw, not too deep, not too shallow either. The familiar itch of an orgasm crawls up his throbbing cock, the tip of his dick growing sensitive as you continue savoring him, allowing him to use you as he pleases. His fingers tighten in your hair, voice dwindling into a low keening groan of your name while his body curls in, shoulders tensing, body growing overwhelmingly susceptible to the onslaught of bliss.

“Pi-pipsqueak, fuck, ‘m close.” He whines loudly, head falling forward to drink in the sight of your mouth suctioned around his hot length. Violet irises are trained on your lips stretched around the base of his cock, the schlicking of your spit, and, hell, the sight of your hand between your thighs, no doubt toying with your needy clit, dripping all over your palm.

“Gonna cum, shit, get off, baby. ‘Mgonnacumgonnacumgonncum-"

And he really can’t hold back when your warm hand reaches up to cup his balls, flattening your tongue along the blunt head of his pearly tip, swirling and sucking to milk his cum out.

His orgasm barrels into him rapidly, a groaning whimper of your name torn from his lips. His balls tighten in your fingers, body tensing while his hips lose control and buck up, deeper than he should. It has you gagging once more, unable to pull off from his fingers buried in your hair. Caleb holds you down against his thick cock, nose almost smushed against his sweaty pelvis for a second. One. Two. Three. Until the blissful spasms relieve his body.

Gently pinned by Caleb, warm spurts of his sticky, thick seed fill your mouth, flooding your tastebuds, shooting down your throat in messy, white rivulets. Even when you pull off, he’s still cumming, pleading your name when your hand replaces the friction of your wet mouth, stroking him off the rest of his high.

Ropes of his release continue to spill, ribbons splattering onto your cheeks, sliding down onto your outstretched tongue, joining the pool of his ivory cum already in your mouth. Your eyes flutter open, catching sight of your lover panting, chest heaving, and bottom lip caught between his teeth while he looks down at you.

Caleb always thinks you look pretty, but here, right now, he thinks you look the prettiest. You, down on your knees with your cheeks bathed in white streaks of his cum. His twitching cock settles on your face, the heavy weight presses on your tongue as you lap away the remaining pearls of his cum dribbling down the ridges and onto the skin of your fingers.

"Mmm, was that okay?" You question softly, voice murmured against his softening cock, peering up at him through the canopy of your lashes.

Your question is answered when he tugs you up quickly, eagerly pressing his lips to yours, his heavy tongue darting out to pry your mouth open, tasting himself on you.

"You- fuck, did so good, pipsqueak." His praise is smushed against your lips, unwilling to break the kiss, straight-laced on maintaining any connection he has with you. "So, so good."

He kisses you harder, wetter, and messier than when you were on your knees for him. Caleb kisses you like a starving man, insistent and overwhelming, pushing himself into your space until your senses are filled with nothing but his immense presence.

The tangy taste of his cum is swapped between the two of you and he's moaning at the mixed taste. The taste of him and you, swirled together more intimately than anyone could ever get, a flavor only he gets to savor on your tongue.

In the mess of your hazy kisses, drunk off each other's intoxicating taste, you both stumble through the room, the stench of blissed arousal mixing in the air. Your arms wrap around his neck, mouth open to invite his tongue to meet yours in a familiar rhythm, urging him impossibly closer to your warm heat.

Caleb takes the opportunity to latch his hands around your hips, pushing backward until the back of your knees finds the edge of your bed frame, falling backward onto your back with him following soon after. He collapses on top of you, supported by his hands on either side of your head, admiring how you look in the dim light.

Your hair splays around the sheets, framing your flushed features that gaze up at him so lovingly. Swollen lips tugged between your teeth so prettily and your breasts heaving with heavy breaths, inhaling his recognizable scent that’s lived with you for as long as you remember.

With a heavy sigh, Caleb allows himself to fall forward, headfirst into the swell of your breasts. He feels completely boneless, blissed out, and completely satisfied with the aftershocks of pleasure thrumming through his veins. But that doesn't stop his adventurous fingers from skittering along the mound of your thighs, slipping in between the space of your legs, immediately finding your clit through your soaked panties.

After all, he can't leave his special girl unsatisfied now, can he?

"Hm, so wet, aren't 'cha?" He murmurs against your breast, a loving smile on his lips. "That's alright, let me clean that up for you, sweetheart.”

With practiced ease, he slips your shirt over your head, revealing the hardening buds of your nipples in the heated air. The sensitive buds are taken into his warm mouth, suckling on the tit just as gently as you did on him earlier. His tongue is warm and wet, rolling the nipple along his tongue, moaning at the taste of your salty skin.

The ministration has your back curving into an arch, his free hand sliding under you, reaching around to grope and pinch at your other mound. He curls into your side to cradle you against his warm torso, one arm wrapped behind you, the other slipped between your thighs with practiced ease.

His fingers are lithe and long, with veins running from his wrist down to the calloused pads that roll your clit gently, coaxing the softest moans to fall from you. Caleb likes it better this way, more than when your mouth was stuffed full with his cock. He likes hearing you, seeing your cheeks bloom with heat, face to face as he toys with the body he knows so well.

He's swiping at your sensitive pearl until you're burying your face into the crook of his sweaty neck, mouthing at his salty skin, and digging your nails painfully into his strong biceps. He plays around with your cunt, making sure every calculated pressure and touch sends your mind reeling into some pool of euphoria, too mind-numbing to even consider what he's doing to you.

You want it. You want him. You want everything of him.

"Caleb," Your voice escapes as a breathy whine, hot against his skin. "Please, no need for this… I already came once, 'm wet enough."

Caleb only laughs softly, sympathetic to your eagerness. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, a dizzying contrast to his fingers that prod around your clenching hole. You already know what he's going to say, insisting that he stretches you out, but it doesn’t subdue the ache burning at your body and restraint. Attentive, as he's always been.

"Can't do that, sweetheart." He smiles against your head, inhaling the scent of your hair as his fingers dip just barely into your sopping heat, the gentle pads of his finger feeling inside your gooey walls. A motion that has you gasping, hands shooting to hold his wrist as if he'll stop and think about your plea. "That wasn't from me, it doesn't count."

The last part is said with lingering possession, a glint in his eyes as he stares down upon you. He wasn't the one to stretch you out, it doesn't count if it's the work of your own fingers, doesn't count if he isn't the one to take care of you.

"'S just quick, honey. Be a good girl and let me take care of you, yeah? It’s what the birthday boy wants." A smile curls at his lips, kind, gentle, warm. Like he wasn't just moaning your name, humping your mouth, and shooting ropes of sticky cum down your throat minutes prior. “Weren’t you sucking that dildo for me? Practicing for my cock down your throat on my birthday?”

“Wha- how did-”

Before you can question, he silences you with a kiss, tongue drawn into yours in a quiet hush. Unfortunately, it works. Placates the ache building in your cunt, mind succumbed to the movement of his lips against yours, sucking and rolling on your tongue in languid movements.

“How could I not know? We’ve spent so many years together, do you really need to ask at this point?”

Against your thigh, you can feel his cock twitching back to life, reacting to your curves that meld against the smooth ridges of his body. A knowing sigh leaves his lips, kissed to yours when you, predictably, send your hand dancing down the length of his torso, wrapping your smooth fingers around his girth.

The steady flicks of your wrist have him gasping into your lips, pulling away slightly to meet your coy gaze, set on his purple hues.

"I left all the planning for you. Who would’ve thought that you wanted this." He says, smug and amused. That is, until your palm domes over the sensitive head of his cock, hissing out a gasp and a sharp buck of his hips.

His reaction sends a gratifying thrill through your body, all the power held in your hands, and so pleased at his body's betrayal. "Don't tease me, Caleb."

"Alright, alright, I won't." He rumbles, apologizing with a kiss on your lips and the sinking of a single finger into your walls.

His finger is long, reaching deeper than yours ever could, all the way down to his knuckle. It slides in with a prurient squelch, joining the repetitive 'schlick schlick' of your hand encasing Caleb's cock, pumping over him in rhythmic motions. Along with a quiet groan, he connects his lips to yours, swallowing the whine that escapes when he slides another finger into the slick mess between your legs.

It's erotic, the heady air stifling the room. Your hips twist, unabashed against his fingers, forcing his warm pads to brush along that special spot that has your features contorting in pleasure and your back arching into his body. Your muscles constrict, legs shaking lightly when he adds his thumb to the mix, rubbing quick circles against your sensitive bud that has your body keening instantly for him.

It'd be almost unfair if he wasn't also so far gone in your touch. Caleb can't help the way his hips buck and twitch into your closed fist. Your warm palm runs along the ridges of his cock, curving over his blunt tip so gently to collect the pearls of pre, fucking it back over his cock, sending a sensation just shy of pain up his spine. It’s so fucking sensitive, everything is. Enhanced by your mere presence, he feels like he could just combust.

Whatever effect he has on you is increased tenfold on him.

You're panting against each other's mouth, swallowing moans and swapping webs of saliva. Each push of his fingers in you sends the filthiest sound resonating throughout the bedroom, the hot air intoxicating the both of you, wrapped in each other's embrace along with the gentle stoking of euphoric bliss.

Amidst your constant moans, hips pumping sloppily over his three fingers, you manage to call his name out in broken syllables. Quiet, a plea to him.

"Caleb, enough, please." You purr his name, free hand digging crescent marks into his skin.

Everything is so wet; his cock, your cunt, your lips, your bodies. Everything is filled with an ache that needs to be filled, pieces of a puzzle only for each other to solve and savor.

You don't wait for him to respond before you're untangling yourself from his numbed limbs, pushing him onto his back to settle into his lap. The loss of his fingers almost erupts a whine to bubble in your lips, hushed by the feel of his cock straining under the warmth of your body, pulsing against your belly.

His cock stands tall against the expanse of your stomach, bigger than what you remember having in your mouth.

Caleb is, by no means, a small man. He's well-endowed in many forms, and his cock is no exception. The sight of it against your stomach makes your mouth water once more. He's big and burly, with angry, thick veins running along his shaft. Pearls of pre dribble down his length, pooling onto his abdomen, begging to be licked up.

No matter how many times you've seen it, your gaze is always caught, breath hitched in your throat at the realization that this has been inside you, streaming thick jets of seed in you, claiming you.

"You've seen it before," Caleb's voice snaps you out of your stupor, flickering up to his eyes. "Why so shocked? You just had it in your mouth earlier, scared?"

His eyes fill with mirth, an emotion he really shouldn't be feeling in the moment. A warm laugh of lasciviousness escapes him as his hands travel up the plains of your body, cupping your tits once more to roll the buds between his dexterous hands. He's always so smug when it comes to this, a sense of joy encapsulating his heart when he sees how dearly you adore his cock. And while some men may take offense at being seen for such a thing, Caleb drinks in all the joy.

He especially drinks in the way his cock drools onto your navel. It's pretty, the way the beads of pre cum smear onto your stomach, eager to sink in your tight warmth. If you want it this way, so be it. He's already given into your desires earlier, what's one more for you?

What's one more of anything for you, really?

His hips find purchase on your hips, looking up at your expression, a want that mirrors his own. Slowly, he pulls you forward, chest to chest, ensuring that your warm folds meet his burning cock, lathering himself thick with your slick.

The touch has the both of you groaning out. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, curling at the cool metal of his dog tag as your clit rolls over the underside of his cock, frictioned between a vein of pulsing arousal, sending short shocks of bliss through your nerves. It has you leaking even more, pussy drooling over his hard cock.

"Caleb… come on." You plead, hips lifting with thick strands of arousal connecting your cunt to his length. You shouldn't even need to beg, your gooey cunt is practically crying for him anyways.

In response, his hands on your hips tighten, easily pushing and pulling you over his painfully hard cock. His blunt tip kisses your clit, slit spilling his arousal over the pearly bundle of nerves, creating a slippery friction between the two of you. The friction sings between you both, squelches created with every passionate motion.

"You're the one on me, pipsqueak. You wanted to be on top, didn't you?"

And you know he wants you too, even more than you. But Caleb is mean, a bully who lives to see you whine and beg (it gets him impossibly harder to see you rely on him, needing him). Even as his cock throbs, blood flushing through the veins of his cock, felt right under the sensitive hood of your weeping cunt.

If the heat simmering between you two wasn't consuming your mind, thinking with your drooling pussy instead of your mind, you'd have hopped off and left him rock hard for teasing you so cruelly. He's lucky you want him right now.

So with trembling hands, your fingers wrap around the tip of his cock, pulling slightly off your sticky clit, strings of arousal breaking off before guiding him to your throbbing hole. The slicked head presses insistently against you, hot against your core, barely breaching through your tight rim.

Slowly, you finally sink down.

The two of you gasp at the intrusion, features twisting and curving into one of pleasure and hot relief. Your breath is knocked from your lungs, oxygen flying out as your thighs burn with pressure. Inside and out. Your eyes flutter shut, nails raking into his shoulders while he fills up the deepest parts of you.

He's just so big. A feature of him that's made even more prominent when he's angling his hips up to smooch at your g-spot that he knows so well.

Warm, wet, velvety walls pillow his throbbing cock, a low hiss escaping from his kiss-bitten lips.

"Ah, fuck, sweets… so fucking tight…" Hot palms press against your hips, pulling you both chest to chest, feeling the rapid thumping of your heart against his. The rhythmic cadence mirrors one another, beating in sync like a perfectly timed metronome.

Your sweat-slicked skin glides smoothly against his chest as you lift up, leaving just the sensitive head of his dick nestled inside your gummy walls before you’re sliding down with a delicate moan tumbling from your lips. The swift movement leaves you lightheaded, numbed from liquid bliss that jets through every high-strung nerve. Your pussy swallows him up so greedily, unwilling to let him go.

“Caleb.” You keen the syllables of his name, raspy and breathy.

Gods, he thinks he can cum just from that. Just the sound of his name falling from your lips is enough for him to feel the burning heat shooting up his spine, dick twitching with the need to claim your womb with his potent seed. The urge to cum flies through his mind, lips finding the seam of yours to kiss, swallow, consume every part of you.

Your senses fill with just him as his dick presses so gently in your core, enhanced every time you sink onto him, sheathing his warm length in the gooey heat of your messy cunt. The squelch that follows is obscene, a beg from your greedy pussy to keep him close, buried in you. Even if your mind, filled with the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of you at your own pace, is incapable of voicing your pleasure, he finds that he’ll listen to your pussy instead.

In response to the salacious noise, strong arms slither around your waist to pull you impossibly closer; heart to heart, lips on lips, holding you close like a secret for himself. A secret he'd never give away, tucked into the smooth crevices of his beating heart, protected by the curved bones of his ribs.

You're a secret meant only for him, a special pedestal chiseled out in his soul for you.

The reverberation of flesh on flesh resonates throughout the room. Your hips drop down on him repeatedly, mixed with the grinding of your hips, rolling your aching clit on the surface of his body. Your arms pull him close by his neck, tongue tangling with his to devour the mantra of your name that leave his lips, trailing down to suck and mark the column of his smooth neck.

Hues of rose bloom against his pale flesh, contrasting against the silver of his necklace, cool on his heated flesh. Caleb allows his head to loll back, holding you tight against him, allowing you to bounce yourself on his cock, using him for your desires.

That’s all he ever wants from you — he simply wishes for you to use him, own him, ruin him. Caleb simply wants to be yours.

“So good, baby. Doin’ so good for me, using’ me so good.” His praise falls loosely as if you can even understand his words amidst your endless mewls of his name, helplessly clinging onto him like a lifeline.

But even clinging onto Caleb doesn’t help the burning muscles of your thighs that increase with every rise off his cock, dropping down so your greedy hole can swallow the thick length once more. And to your dismay, the slowing pace has the wisps of your orgasm slipping through your grasp, the edges of bliss teetering away that pulls a desperate whine from your lips.

“Caleb,” You beg, nails raking down his shoulders. The simple word is enough for him to know what you want, asking him for help like you always do. Running to the only person you’ve ever relied on. He’s the only person you should rely on. “Please, please, ‘m so close…”

“You’re close?” Caleb preens, voice hot and ragged against your ear. “What do you need, hm? Tell me, tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, just tell gege."

He’s not exactly asking, the answer is obvious, even if he didn’t know you like the back of his hand. He can feel it from your fluttering walls, the pitch of your moans, the flurried babbles of unintelligible whimpers that spew from your swollen lips. He knows from the simmering of your body against his, sloppy hips losing the momentum you’ve worked so hard to build, racing to finish around his cock.

His poor girl, getting so tired from riding him. It’s okay, he thinks, he’ll take care of you. Just like he always does.

But he still wants to hear you, wants to listen to that pretty voice he’s spent years devoting himself to. He wants to listen to you plea for his help, rely on him just a little longer, need him just a little more.

“Wanna cum! Wanna cum around your cock, Caleb.” You bury your face into the crook of his neck, hips never stopping its irregular rhythm despite the aching burn in your muscles. “Please, I need you. Need you to make me cum.”

The sound of your sweet beg fills his flushed ears, prompting him to pull you closer, hands splayed on your back as his feet anchor into the soft mattress. The next feeling you receive from him is a deep, sharp thrust up into your soaked cunt, cock kissing all the sensitive parts in you.

Hard. Fast. Unrelenting.

The sharp movement has you tipping forward into his chest, arms feebly holding onto him while he bounces you on his thick length, pistoning his girth into your weeping pussy. Salacious squelches follow with every plunge, strings of wetness sticking him to you in webs whenever he pulls out, eager to delve back in. And you can do nothing but take it.

You can do nothing but take the blunt head of his cock as it bullies into your gummy walls, thumb rolling tight circles on your sensitive clit until he has your back curving into him, eyes fluttering shut from the pressure building in your stomach, electricity shooting through you in tiny bursts.

“Need me, huh?” He coos, lilting and proud. You need him. You need him to make you cum because you can’t do it yourself, you need him to bring you to the finish because only he can do it — slotting himself into your life once more.

And Caleb relishes in it. Lives for it. Lives for you. For the way you cling onto him, the seam of your lips pressing wet, hot kisses to his neck, the syllables of his name falling from your lips like a mantra. He lives for the way your cunt flutters around his cock, earning a pleased groan from the man as he feels you quickly approaching your orgasm.

“Close?” He whispers, already knowing the answer. He knows your body better than you do, aware of the blissed pulsing of your pussy and the pitches of your moans that signal your impending climax — all shooting straight to his cock, swallowed in your warmth.

Caleb keeps his persistent pace, panting softly with his cheeks dusted in rosy desire. His hips don’t stop, pulled tighter against you, a hand snaked between your heated torsos to rub at your raw clit, pushing you closer and closer towards the teetering edge of numbing pleasure.

Your body feels like it’s in suspension, torn between a foggy mist of euphoric haze and sharp bursts of electricity numbing your mind. Everything is so sensitive, so wet, so hot. Everything is too much for your body to contain, too much to process.

“O-oh, ‘m cummingcumming, ngh-”

Before you know it, your teeth sinks into the soft junction of Caleb’s neck and shoulder, igniting a sharp gasp from him as your body convulses, tensing and shaking in his hold. Everything completely whites out with a drawn out moan, muffled into his salty flesh. Static floods your mind as you cum around Caleb’s intrusive length, still pistoning in and out of your cunt, leaving it pliable, fuckable for his cum to nestle in your womb.

“Come on, cum for me, sweet girl. Go on, be a good girl, cum nice and hard for me.” Caleb groans out, voice ragged and rough with his own need to cum.

Your tight pussy swallows him whole, hips smooching against yours, cock head grinding perfectly to hit that sweet spot that overstimulates you until you’re biting at his skin, marking him up like a toy. Laying claim on him, making him yours.

It’s enough to make him cum, pushed over the edge. Enough to have him groaning out your name in a choked moan, muscles rippling with bursts of pleasure shooting through his abdomen, his erratically jerking into you. Pools of lavender squint shut while Caleb messily thrusts up into you, hands gripping the soft flesh of your ass to keep you still so the hot, sticky ropes of cum can spurt freely into your welcoming womb. Filled, and fucked back into you, over and over and over.

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘s so good—”

Your lips smush onto his, hushing his cries of pleasure. His hands alter you to rock against him, reliving and clasping onto the last aftershocks of numbing pleasure rippling throughout the stems of your nerves. Your tongues move languidly through mewls and groans while your warm palms wander along his skin, mapping out the curves and contours of his body, engraving every detail to memory. Eventually, your hands settle on the space between his collarbone and jaw, thumb massaging the reddening divots against his pale skin created by your teeth.

With a soft sigh, you’re the first to pull away to admire his flushed features, looking lovingly up at you. You lean forward, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, mumbling softly, “Gonna tell me why you were here?”

Caleb sighs, a wispy smile set on his lips, twirling a strand of your hair around a lithe finger, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. He's sure you already know anyway, he has a third eye just for you, after all.

“I just missed you. I couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you, but I guess I caught you at a good time though, huh?”

You flush at that, heat blooming on your cheeks even more than you already are. A gentle finger smooths along the crevices of his chest, the tip of your digit dragging with feather-light pressure on where his heart lays, beating fast and hard against the warm pad. “Was supposed to be a surprise…”

Caleb only laughs, kissing away the adorable pout. "Don't worry, I'll act surprised if you want me to. Just don't expect me to go easy on you when that time comes."

He pulls you close, burying his face into the soothing scent of your hair, mixed with the lingering stench of sex and love. He could stay like this forever, with you in his arms, cock softening in your cum-filled cunt, drowning in your familiar presence.

If he could ask for anything for his birthday, it'd be to stay like this. To hide you away from the rest of the world, curled into his protection. He wants to carve you into his heart, caged into the gaps of his ribs where he knows you'll be safe, relying on him. If not, he'd want to live in you. To be settled into your heart, webbed tight into the vessels of your pumping veins, providing everything you'll ever need.

Caleb simply wishes to be close to the one in his heart.

You wrap your arms around him too, clinging to his warmth. Caleb is your sun, always there, always shining, even on the days you forget to look up. He's always a part of your life and you want him there, no matter what. You want Caleb, just Caleb.

With a low sigh, your eyes flicker to the clock on your nightstand, showing in clear, white numbers.

12:00 am, June 13.

"Caleb?" You murmur, hushed and quiet.

His eyes, once fluttered shut, open immediately at the sound of your alluring voice calling for him. He responds with a low hum, fingers mindlessly circling haphazard lines and shapes into your skin as you relax on his chest.

"Happy birthday."

The simple words almost surprise him. He knows you've been planning for quite a while now, eager to give him the best celebration ever, but it's different hearing it like this. Especially when he has you pieced into his large frame, sweaty and sluggish and limp from pleasure. It's different when you murmur it so gently, your voice filled with the cadence of love and devotion.

There are no words that appear in his mind when you whisper to him, only the sudden need to pull you closer, press his heart to yours. He doesn't say anything, only sealing the seam of his lips to yours in a reverent kiss.

"Thank you, honey." Caleb’s lips curl into a boyish smile, charming and sweet.

"Will you tell me what you'll wish for?" Your eyes twinkle with mirth, teasing him affectionately. “I’ll make sure it definitely comes true.”

Caleb can only muster up a laugh, mussing up the strands of your hair with a shake of his head. "No can do, pipsqueak, my lips are sealed shut. If I tell you, it won't happen, you know?"

The response has you rolling your eyes, hands darting up to pinch and tug at his cheeks in retaliation. The answer doesn’t satiate the curiosity in you, only igniting your desire to extract the answer out of him. It ignites a hearty laughter from Caleb who tugs you close, rolling you two over until you're pinned under his large torso, nosing at your cheek with a wide grin.

He wouldn’t tell you. Or maybe you already knew, you always seemed to know things about himself that he didn't. Maybe you already know that he wishes for you to be his forever. In every lifetime. To seek out your soul to hold, bind, and sink into his. He wants to have your hand in his, to descend from the sky with you in his arms.

In this lifetime and every life after, Caleb only wants to be yours.

"Tell me, Caleb!" You whine, pushing him away to no avail. "Please… gege?"

That has Caleb’s breath hitching, a breathy sigh escaping his lungs in exasperation. How does he reject that? Your pleading expression, lips set in a tempting pout, and eyes begging to know his heart’s selfish desire.

Simple, he can’t.

So he lightly flicks your forehead, immediately leaning forward to soothe the touch with a kiss.

“If I tell you,” he murmurs, smooth voice vibrating against your temple, “then you have to make sure it absolutely comes true, alright?”

A smile follows his words, curving wider when he sees your eager nod. His warm palm raises, thumb brushing along the underside of your eyes, curving along delicate lashes reverently before he cups your cheek. His irises flicker over your features, a hurricane of unrecognizable emotions flashing through his face.

“I wish,” he begins, pulling you tighter against him, careful to not smush you under his comforting weight, “that I get a little more of you every year. I wish for gravity to always bring me back home to you so I can see you by my side every day.”

Silence follows his words, the air growing thick between you both. Caleb looks down at you with an expression that can only be described as love, holding his breath for your response. He isn’t uncomfortable with you, far from it, but he’s a man afraid of being weak — vulnerable to the one nestled so deeply in his heart. Even with simple colds and illnesses, he hides away from you, so how can he reveal such a profound, selfish desire that constantly consumes his mind?

“Will you grant me that?” He asks, voice low and soft like he’s afraid that you’ll turn him away, “Can you grant me my selfish desires?”

A tempered heat simmers between your bodies before you let out a quiet laugh, not amused nor mocking, just one of happiness to mirror the ripples of love in your heart. It’s moments like these when you realize your Caleb isn’t as invincible as you always conceived him to be. He’s just a man who loves you dearly so.

“Okay, Caleb. Then no matter what happens, let’s always find our way back to each other.” You run your finger over his cheeks, trailing down until your palm finds his beating heart, thumping reassuringly against your skin. “Let’s be selfish together.”

The finality of your words, assured and strong, soothes the turmoil in his soul. Caleb brings your hand to his lips, lavishing a kiss on every delicate finger, each receiving a segment of his unending love for you.

“I’ll always find my way home to you.”

He’s certain now. He’s certain that gravity will always pull him back to you, if not, he’ll crawl through heaven and earth to hold your hand once more.

His warm hands run up the sides of your body reverently, lavishing your skin in angelic kisses while his hips buck feverishly against the soft flesh of your warm pussy. Your own hips buck and lips part in light gasps and moans whenever the pearly mushroom tip of his hard cock kisses your sensitive bundle of nerves — so close to just dipping into your wet warmth like you want.

But Caleb is a patient man, years of yearning and devotion are nothing compared to his last few minutes of mounting and humping your body under him.

“You’re so wet.” He murmurs, lips pressing gentle kisses to your burning temple. He isn’t even condescending about it. It’s a simple observation, one he finds great joy in when he pulls away, watching bands of your wetness keep the flesh of your cunt connected to his leaky tip, you’re begging for him not to leave even if you don’t say it. Your achy hole and twitchy clit say it all — flushed with need and desire.

Caleb swears to himself that only he will ever see you in this state. If anyone else got a glimpse of you with your legs hooked over his shoulders, teary-eyed, and weeping pussy all spread out for him — he’ll tear them apart.

A wave of embarrassment washes to your cheeks at his words before you’re reaching down and wrapping your hand around the thick girth of his length, giving him experimental pumps and listening to the erotic squelch whenever your dainty hand slides down. Caleb can’t help the way his hips twitch and he bucks, a heavy blush settling over his pale cheeks. His ears somehow get redder as he involuntarily fucks himself into the palm of your hand, purple irises looking desperately down at where your soft palm domes over his sensitive tip, thumbing over the slit of his cock and collecting pearls of pre-cum to fuck it back over him.

“Fu—ha, shit, pipsqueak,” he whines, catching your wrist in his hand and pulling you away from his pulsing cock. The expression on his face is cute, flushed redder than an apple, and embarrassed that he could cum from the feel of your warm palm wrapped around his hard, throbbing dick. He aches to be flesh to flesh in the depth of your tight hole but he holds himself back, wanting to tease and torment you for just a bit longer — like he has all the time in the world.

“Caleb,” you pout, bottom lip jutting out into the sweetest expression he’s ever seen on you.

What he doesn’t expect though, are your lithe fingers, snaking down to your thighs, using your middle and ring finger (that he will definitely put a ring on), and spreading your wet, sticky folds, open for him — presenting yourself to him.

He doesn't think you know the effect you have on him. Or perhaps you are aware and he's being played like a pawn, wrapped around your little finger — Caleb decides he's happy in the palm of your hand, settled into your heart.

“Gege,” you plead, and he swears he’s just gotten harder to the sound of your pleading voice. And he knows it’s over for him when you bat your pretty lashes and look up at him with the eyes you know he just can’t ignore, “Please put it in. Look, ‘m so wet and achy for you.”

Caleb loses it. Of course, how could he not fold when he sees you look up at him with such wanton need, begging him to bury into the deepest part of you? When you’re presenting yourself, whispering coos into his ear, and pressing sinful kisses to his hot skin.

Once the words leave your lips, the pilot is immediately pressing himself into your sopping cunt, and bullying his girth into you, stretching your velvety walls to accommodate his heavy length. His hips twitch, eager to fill you up with thick ropes of his hot seed and admire you as it pools in filthy globs underneath you, seeping into his dark sheets. He wants to lay in his bed and be reminded that you were here in that moment, in all waking moments.

Your lips part and a sharp breath is sucked into your lungs when you feel his tip notch into your entrance, but then you feel his entire cock splitting you open. The stretch is more than you expect and you’re suddenly crying out and clawing at his broad shoulders, twirling the cool chain of his necklace in your fingers with pleasured whines and pleas that grow in pitch as he sinks in your velvety walls inch by inch.

“Oh, fuc-” You swear he enjoys the way that you’re squirming around his thick length, takes pride in the way you’re writhing and moaning and eating your words as he folds you into a mean mating press.

“Oh, fuck… don’t stop, please. ‘s too deep, too good.” You hear yourself whine out, head falling back onto the plush pillow. He takes the time to kiss down on the glossy sheen of your neck, pink tongue darting out to taste your salty skin and the drool that trickles from the corner of your mouth.

“It’s too deep? Okay, I’ll be more gentle.” His voice is hot and gravelly against your ear, nibbling and suckling deep marks into your skin that'll last for days to come, each a reminder of this night.

His finger latch at your hips, pinning you down as his hips pull back until his tip is just barely lodged in the warmth of your cunt, fucking you gently with just the tip like the teasing bastard he is. He can’t tear his eyes away though, enraptured at the way your cunt flutters so greedily around him, trying to suck more of him into your desperate pussy.

“It’s my fault,” he croons, licking and suckling at your pebbling nipples with his mocking voice, “I should’ve made sure every part of you accepted me.”

You love Caleb, you truly do. But when he’s like this, making you eat your own words and fucking you with his sensitive, leaky tip, you just want him to fold you until your ankles hook over his shoulder and sink his entire length into the walls of your pussy until you feel him in your chest.

So you pull him closer by the cool chain of his dog tag, whining and pleading incessantly again to sink into you, to have his cock kissing your cervix, and flooding your womb with white ropes of his hot cum. It's really the least he could do. Slurred pleas of “gimme more” are pressed to his throat, a pitiful attempt to lull him into sheathing himself into the warmth of your pulsing walls once again.

And though it seems pathetic and pitiful, Caleb is Caleb. He is a man who can never deny you, no matter how absurd, minute or simple a request is; he wants to be the only one to complete it for you. The only one you turn to, the only one you need.

“It can't be too deep or too shallow. Can't be too rough or too gentle either. You're so hard to please.” He mumbles hotly against your ear but he relents, mounting himself on top of you and sliding his thick length into the warmth of your clenching cunt once again. He falls onto his forearms, palms cupping the top of your head to prevent your head from hitting the headboard. His deep strokes are punctuated when the bed knocks against the wall with a repeated thump, thump, thump and it only serves to remind you of his need.

The air feels like it’s been knocked out of your lungs and you whine into the kiss he captures your lips in — hot and flushed with need as his cock repeatedly bullies your g-spot. Your lips part and his name falls like a mantra, the only coherent thought in your head being Caleb and how good he’s making you feel.

It’s erotic, lewdly so, the way his skin on yours reverberates in the room and yet swallowed by the obscene squelching of your soaked cunt every time the man on top of you bottoms out, chasing his high and desperately bringing yours to you. Your whines and moans of his name sound sweeter than any harmony he’s ever heard and he swears that heaven opened its gates to a sinner like him. His name falls from your lips and yours from his, a swearing of devotion in your hazy minds. Born from a desire meant only for each other.

When his hand dips lower, thumbing at your sensitive clit, you find your lower stomach coiling and growing taut quickly — too quickly that you’re pushing at his sturdy shoulders with a throaty cry, back arching, legs trembling, and toes curling when he doesn’t stop his unrelenting rhythm.

“Cal-Caleb, stop. ‘s too much, I—”

He cuts you off, devouring your lips in a sloppy, languid kiss, globs of his saliva blend with yours, tongues tangling, and salacious webs of saliva connect your lips when he pulls away with a smug smile.

“My name isn’t a safeword.”

His teasing words instantly cause the tightness in your stomach to snap and you cum with a pleasured cry. With nothing to grasp onto, your nails rake down his back, reddening lines trailing in wake of the lingering crescent marks.

“Shit, shit, fu—”

The dull pain is barely registered when he feels your walls fluttering as you cum, surging his own orgasm through him. His eyes screw shut, bursts of white flashing behind his lids, and a raspy groan of your name rips from his vocal cords, hips erratically bucking until he’s overstimulating the both of you and painting your walls white with fat loads of his seed.

He collapses on top of you, burying his face into the sweaty crook of your neck, and laying kisses to your collarbone and neck, laving his tongue over the lovebites left over. He hums in contentment when your hands card through the damp strands of his dark hair, tracing the red lines on his shoulders and back — proof that you’ve laid claim on him.

His fingers rub soothing shapes into your hips and thighs, allowing a few shared beats of your hearts to pass before he's looking up at you with a spark in his eye. Still buried inside you, he flips your positions so that you’re on top of him, hands secured around your waist, and peppering kisses to the lavender bruises that’ve bloomed on your chest.

“Think we could go for a round two?

Caleb’s words send a light laugh through you and you’re wrapping your fingers around the silver chain of his dog tags, pulling him impossibly closer, and nosing the skin of his cheek with a teasingly glint in your eyes.

“Think you can handle me for another round? You seem kind of wiped, Caleb.” You tease, scattering light kisses along his jaw and your lips curl into a smug smile when his hands tighten imperceptibly on your waist.

In a second, he’s flipping you onto your back again with a raised brow and a light smirk. His violet hues look down hungrily at you.

He won't be satiated for a while.

“I guess we won’t know until we find out, will we?” He leans closer, his breath hot on your lips and silver chain cooling on your burning skin. “This time, you can’t tell me to stop.”

fake boyfriend! caleb who is just so charismatic and falls perfectly in place as a boyfriend, your boyfriend. It's almost like he's made for you (he is)

fake boyfriend! caleb who introduces you as his needy girlfriend, with an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his warm, toned torso. The way he so easily takes on the role is absurd, the way he easily introduces you as his girlfriend sends your mind reeling but it feels so... right. It feels right in a way that causes your cheeks to burn and chest to tighten.

fake boyfriend! caleb who looks at you so fondly whenever you're interacting with one of his friends, telling them stories of how you and him 'met.' He feels his heart swell with so much love and he wants to kiss you until with lungs cripple and lips sore. It's even worse because you fill the role perfectly (you're made to be his) it only makes his pants tighter and the apples of his cheeks red.

fake boyfriend! caleb who keeps the act up even when his admirers die down and he isn't so bombarded with love letters and lunchboxes anymore. He keeps up the act long after you leave skyhaven, even carrying it over when he visits you in linkon, taking his precious girl out on dates and spending long nights at your apartment. You don’t even realize how cemented he is in your life, how your heart beats just a little faster when he nears you, placing a braised chicken wing on your plate or when he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

fake boyfriend! caleb who starts to feel a little less like a fake boyfriend and more like a real one. It begins to feel so much more real when you catch your heart stuttering in your chest, when you catch him gazing fondly at you, when you sleep in the same bed because you’ve begun to feel bad for making him sleep on the couch. It’s so much more real when you realize how easily he slots himself in your life, how routine it is that you don’t even have to change anything because he’s always been there. He’s always been there for you.

fake boyfriend! caleb who, once again, spends another night at your apartment. He’s in your bed this time, lying next to you as you use his arm as a pillow. His soothing fingers pat down your hair, your own trailing down his chest before resting on the expanse of flesh where his collar meets his jaw. It’s then you become alarmingly aware of the proximity, the shared breaths, and the intoxicating space between your bodies. You’re so close that you can count every speck of stars in his violet hues.

fake boyfriend! caleb who lets silence marinate between you two, neither wanting to break the thin veil that masks your relationship, whatever it is or whatever you want it to be. But he's the first to turn away, breaking the hypnotizing eye contact with you. He turns his face to bury in the soft pillow, ears, and cheeks flushed the same shade as his favorite asiatic apples. His voice comes out in the muffled murmur, you’d be unable to hear if you two weren’t so close.

“It’s late. You should get some rest, pipsqueak.”

A light scoff leaves your lips and disappointment stirs in your heart. You aren’t sure what drives you to surge forward, fingers fisting into the blue cotton of his shirt, pulling him towards you, and mushing your lips together. It’s messy and forceful but you’ll swear it isn’t your fault — it’s all because of Caleb. Everything is because of him.

You seal your lips together, spurred by sudden want and need, heat surges through your veins, fogging all logic in your fuzzy mind. The kiss is longer than it should be, a minute, two, or three until all the air crawls away and leaves your lungs crippling and aching for air.

And then, you breathlessly pull away. Out of breath like you’ve climbed to the top of the highest mountain, you think it might be similar to how you’re feeling right now. A familiar heat pools in your lower stomach when you brave to see the state Caleb is in.

fake boyfriend! caleb who’s eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen, and a heavy blush settled onto his pale flesh. His lavender eyes hold swirls of yearning and want, mirroring your own. Shared breaths and heated air are stifled between you and the pilot before he pushes forward, connecting your lips again with a needy groan that's greedily swallowed.

fake boyfriend! caleb who hovers over you, violet eyes boring into your soul. His hot breath beats against your cheeks, a quiet groan escaping his pretty lips when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, and it takes everything in him not to mark you up, to claim you.

“Did you mean to do that? Did you mean to kiss me?” His voice is soaked in desperation and he’s completely and utterly entranced by you. The pretty, sweet, stubborn girl from his childhood. The girl he’s watched grow up into the woman under him, the woman who has clawed into his heart, making a home of him.

fake boyfriend! caleb who loses his mind once he sees you nod your pretty head, teeth biting down on the plush of your lower lip. His body feels numbingly hot, the air is stifling, and his pants are suddenly too tight. He isn’t close enough, he wants — needs — to be closer. He wants to settle into your body, carve himself into your heart, meld his soul with yours. He wants whatever bone you’re willing to throw his way.

fake boyfriend! caleb who strips the two of you out of your sleepwear and in an instant, his lips are on yours. The kiss is in no way tranquil or soft, it’s greedy and messy, and downright sinful, pushing his tongue in your mouth and completely disregarding the mixed saliva that drools down the side of your mouths. He takes in all of you as he feverishly kisses his way down your body, biting and suckling at any glimpse of skin he can reach.

fake boyfriend! caleb who lavishes wet kisses from your breast and down to the navel of your body, fingers curling at the edge of your panties, inching the fabric down once he settles between your thighs. An audible groan is ripped from his throat when he sees how soaked you are, the fabric sticks to your skin as it’s peeled off with strings of your wetness clinging to the thin fabric. A wave of embarrassment washes over you when he comes face to face with the most intimate part of you and it’s better than any fantasy he’s ever had.

“Fuck, pipsqueak… you’re so soaked.” His voice comes out as a raspy cadence of love, eagerly pressing his nose to the wet material of your panties, taking in your scent.

fake boyfriend! caleb who suckles sloppy, dark hickies into the plush fat of your inner thighs, working his way up to your core. Bruises bloom across the expanse of your skin, trailing wherever his lips find purchase on you. You’re aching now, desperate for him to devour you but helplessly watching him litter his love on your thighs. Your fingers thread into his dark locks, pulling him closer with a soft whine.

“Caleb, please…” You can hardly recognize your own voice, whiny and needy for his lavish attention. “Please don’t tease.”

fake boyfriend! caleb who chuckles softly and abides by your sweet pleas. His soft, wet tongue makes contact with your soft folds, laving the wet muscle over your throbbing clit, groaning like a starved man at your sweet taste. It's better than he could've ever imagined. Spurred by the delicate harmony of your moans, he devotes himself to pleasuring you, intently watching your expressions with great care. He wants to know everything— what colors you blush, what makes your toes curl, he wants your fingers pulling at his hair, and whining his name like a prayer.

fake boyfriend! caleb who makes you cum alarmingly quick when he pushes two fingers into your sopping hole, stretching out his pretty girl. He watches his fingers piston in and out of your squelching hole, enamored with the way your cunt sucks him in like a black hole. Your cunt spasms around his digits, velvety walls fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you.

"You're so cute, pipsqueak. So, so cute." He coos, pressing light kisses to your throbbing bundle of nerves before smearing his fingers, covered in your release, across your lips.

fake boyfriend! caleb who asks for consent (he would never want to make you uncomfortable) before pulling out his cock. Your jaw falls slack when you see his pulsing length. He's big and thick with one prominent vein running on the underside and pearly beads of pre-cum dribbling from his tip. For a moment you wonder what it would feel like if it pulsed on your tongue, how it would feel to have him shooting ropes of cum into your womb. 'I'm screwed,' you think to yourself but your body opposes and your core aches to be filled again.

fake boyfriend! caleb who thinks he's just ascended above skyhaven when his tip notches against your entrance.

"Oh, fuck—" His forehead falls onto your shoulder, a series of whines and pleas falls from his lips, feverishly pressing kisses onto your skin, anything to make him last a little longer as he pushes inch by inch into the velvety walls of your tight cunt.

fake boyfriend! caleb who watches your eyes roll back when he finally bottoms out, balls resting against the soft curve of your ass. He takes a moment to admire your pretty frame, the sweat glistening on your chest, heavy breaths that leave your tits heaving, and the dull pain of your nails leaving crescent shapes in the meat of his biceps. Caleb doesn't think he can ever let you go.

"I love you. Fuck, I love you." The words fall from his lips like a mantra as he fucks you, folding your knees onto his shoulder. His cock splits you open, pressing and abusing your g-spot every time his hips meet yours. The room quickly fills with the harmony of desperate whines and moans, littered with I love you's that're quickly engulfed in messy, hurried kisses.

fake boyfriend! caleb who cums with you when you whisper your confession into his ear, like a little secret between the two of you. His hips stutter and he's suddenly shooting hot, white ropes of cum into your fluttering pussy, milking him dry and filling you up.

fake boyfriend! caleb who collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his toned arms and pulling you close to his warm body, pressing soothing kisses to your temple, cheeks, nose, and finally onto your lips.

"I love you," he confesses. His words are hushed and speak of the longing and teetering of the line that the two of you hesitated to cross for years.

"I love you too," you reply, pressing a trail of gentle kisses along his jaw as your fingers intertwine with his. Your body feels sore and full, heart content, and so, so loved.

He presses his lips to yours once again, smiling gently before soothing you to sleep. He'll always be by your side, no matter what happens. He'll be right there.

lovesick! caleb who... loves you a little more than you realize.

first fic hehe

he’s tired—can barely move, and yet, he still calls you to him.

“sweetheart,” his voice gruff, carrying a slight rasp as he beckons you. “c’mere please.”

a frown etches itself on your face, walking your way to him from the kitchen. “baby, ‘m almost done with din–”

you don’t get the chance to finish your complaint when he’s pulling you by the arm into his lap. a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sudden movement. then you’re settled, straddling the large expanse of his lap and you feel it. 

he wraps his arms around your body, flushing you against his chest. his lips press against the shell of your ear and he whispers, “don’t care about dinner, just let me hold my wife, yeah?”

he swears it’s all he needs—to hold you close and inhale your scent—but his pulse is racing and blood roars in his ears all due to sheer desire and he can’t stop himself from shifting his hips the slightest bit. 

you feel that, too. it elicits a sharp gasp. 

you can almost hear the small smirk forming on his lips, “how was your day, beautiful?” he murmurs, hands moving to your hips. 

and his movements are so calculated. from the way he ever so gently grounds you into him to the way his breath fans against your ear sending shivers down your spine. 

“was fine…” you mumble, unable to stop the way you shift in his lap, body begging for more attention. “missed you.”

“yeah?” he asks, his voice is low and nearly unrecognizable. “missed you s’much more, my love. been waiting for this moment all day.” 

you pull back slightly to look into his eyes. they’re tired. exhausted even, but they still hold that fire. that pure, burning desire. they’re his fuck me eyes. and, god, do you love them.

“zaynie,” you whisper, unable to trust your shaky voice. 

he hums, and the soft, pitched noise has you leaking through your bottom, probably leaving a wet patch right on his pants. “tell me, sweetheart.” his hands squeeze at your sides and his hips slowly, but surely, roll into you. "what did you do today?"

you whimper, pussy clenching around nothing. "mmph, not much…" another roll, evoking another wet gasp. "fuck, just… cleaned, w-went on a walk—" he's pushing against you deeper now. you feel the outline of his cock push into you with every not-so-little thrust. "s-saw, saw that stray kitty in the park again."

"mmm, we should really take her in, shouldn't we?" he breathes, cock twitching at the sound of your voice breaking with every grind.

"zaynie," your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him back so you can look at him. his face is flushed, pink blooming over his cheeks and spreading to the tips of his ears. you gyrate against him, pulling a breathy moan from your husbands hung open mouth. "dinner's gonna burn."

"let it burn then." he says, the words coming out in a hiss. "need my wife—we can order takeout later, i'll even cook, don't care. let me just have you like this first." 

a beg. to the untrained ear, you can't hear it, but you know zayne like the back of your hand. you know that heat curls in his stomach, that tension lies in every bone in his body, that pure desire is the only thing he feels right now. the need to be close to you is strong, but the need to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking you till he's completely stress free and you're completely full of his cum is much, much stronger. 

it's why all the fatigue evaporates and he can't stop himself from flipping you onto the plush couch— rubbing into you you like he might die without feeling the outline of your pussy through your soddened panties and leggings . he can't even be bothered to rid you of your clothes… he craves the release. he needs it more than anything. needs you more than anything.

you let out a pathetic needy sob, overly worked up by him fucking you through your clothes. "z-zayne, more—ugh, need more. t-take it off, please." 

his cock twitches helplessly at the sound. it's what he's been missing while drowning in work for hours on end. 

"sweetheart," he moans brokenly. "promise i'll fuck you just the way you like—just need you to take this first. you can do that for me, can't you?" he whispers and the word shoot an immense amount of heat straight to your core. "you can be a good little wife, right, darling?"

you can never say no to him, especially when he talks to you like that. you respond wordlessly, giving your husband what he wants—no, what he needs—and wrap your legs securely around his slim waist. 

"that's it, good girl." and the way zayne sounds is the polar opposite of the weight of his words. his voice is frayed, desperate. "f-feels, ha, feels so good like this, yeah?" 

his hips move faster, imitating the way they would if he were actually inside of you fucking you with full force. your body rocks with every thrust, every grind, your tits bounce underneath your apron, the couch—even as firm as it sits—sways with you in tandem.

it goes on and on. endless, whiny praises from him, sobbing pleas from you, your bodies rubbing against one another effectively ruining his dry-clean-only slacks till you finally feel that tight knot form in your lower belly. 

and he's close, too, but zayne's been close to coming undone—he just didn't want to let go without you. 

it happens so quickly that you barely have the time to process it. "baby, baby," you gasp, nerve-endings coming alive while your heart pounds at the speed of light. "'m—oh, fuck, baby. 'm cumming, cumming, cumming."

"cum with me, sweet girl." he wheedles, never losing his momentum for a second. he grinds you both through it till he feels your body pull taut underneath him. till you're shaking and sobbing and clinging onto him for dear life. 

then he stills and his orgasm is explosive. he's vocal, moaning out your name mixed with all the sweet pet names he's given you. his cum leaks through his boxers and said dry-clean-only slacks, beading out of the fabric in a taboo, yet very erotic way. 

it takes you both minutes to come down till the smell of burning food fills your nostrils.

then you hear the unmistakable beeping of the fire alarm.

"oh, shit."

KIT SAYS... they took my yaoi/bl app away from me. if you guys know where i can read my yaoi ad free, email me. (dm me or send me an ask, I'm begging i need to fujo out over hot men that kiss) oh and this isn't proofread lol