Crowe’s No.1 Fan

He presses soft kisses against your skin, before gently easing your legs apart, careful not to wake you. His breath warms your inner thighs as he lingers there, savouring the moment.

“Oh…? How are you this wet while you’re asleep? Are you dreaming of something naughty…?” He lets his tongue glide between your folds, just enough to taste. A muffled moan escapes him.

“Mmh… how do you always…taste so good…?” His words dissolve into quiet sounds against you, his breathing growing heavy and unsteady. “Let’s see if you can take one finger…” he murmurs, easing it inside you. A soft exhale follows, “I see…not enough for you, huh?”

He added another. Caleb leans over you, his fingers still moving inside you in an unhurried rhythm. He’s brushes stray strands of hair from your face as he watches you, almost studies your every feature.

Eventually, he withdraws his finger, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean with a quiet, satisfied hum, before letting his hand drift slowly to cup your breasts.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispers against your ear. “How many nights I’ve had to take care of myself while you slept next door or even here, right next to me…,” a soft, breathless laugh follows, but clearly filled with guilt.

“Although I might’ve stolen a taste once or twice before when you were sleeping… but you forgive me, don’t you?” he confesses. Deep down, he longed for you to catch every confession, but yet was relieved you’re fast asleep.

“Now… juuust the tip,” he says. “You can handle that. I won’t wake you up.” He positions himself, guiding the head of his leaking cock slowly against you before pressing in just slightly. A sharp, shaky breath left him the moment he felt you.

His control slipps completely then, his movements growing steadier, deeper, his breathing rougher with every thrust. “I’m sorry– “ he gasps, his voice strains.  “It’s… not just the tip. I know…”

He suddenly freezes mid-motion, feeling you shift slightly under the covers as your breathing intensifies. “Ssh… hey, sshh!! I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says quickly and panicked. He basically has your permission, but why did he still feel so guilty? Yet he didn’t stop.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a rushed, but deep and sloppy kiss, his hand coming up to block your eyes with his palm, just in case. “Be a good baby sister… go back to sleep, yeah?” he whispers, yet his movements only grow more forceful.