filming in progress

you aren’t supposed to be here. so if anything, he’s doing his brothers a favor in making sure you don’t go eavesdropping on their conversation.

if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s your roommate’s.

she’s the one that opened the front door for him and his brothers. she’s the one that forgot to wake you, forgot to let you know the cody’s were using your apartment to hold a meeting.

pope didn’t mean to sit at the edge of your bed, or tug the thin bedsheet off your sleeping body.

the shaky sigh he lets out is a direct result of seeing the way your skin erupts in goosebumps. with you sleeping on your tummy and legs spread apart, the view of your ass is plentiful for him.

your loose sleeping shorts barely cover anything. that’s why he doesn’t feel that bad when he bunches the material to side to get a better look at your pussy.

careful not to wake you, he positions himself so his knees trap your split thighs. it’s enough weight to lock you down, but not enough to pull you out of sleep.

fingers ghost over the skin on the back of your thighs, but you don’t feel it. your ears don’t even hear the material of your shorts being cut with pope’s pocket knife.

hell, you don’t even flinch when rough hands knead the flesh of your ass. squeezing and massaging, pulling your cheeks apart to give him the prettiest view.

his eyes are glued to where your hole almost begs for him. you’re not wet, but the glob of spit that lands perfectly on your pussy helps with that.

he’s less careful as he smears his salvia with his thumb. smearing it so your pussy glistens under the dim light. he’s less careful and it’s obvious.

a soft whine escapes your lips, and that has pope freezing.

his jeans are unbearably tight. his cock straining against his black jeans, an ache he hasn’t felt in what feels like fuckin’ years.

so when you breath evens out and your lips part to let out soft snores, pope is steadily pulling his zipper down.

“pope? where you at, man?”

“upstairs. just finish your shit,” he hisses just loud enough so his brothers hear.

it’s quiet on the other side of the door, so pope assumes he’s clear and has more than enough time to pull out his cock.

licking a wet stripe on the palm of his hand, pope jerks his cock, once then twice. just enough to get him wet and spread the precome that built on the tip of his cock.

with a hiss, pope angles his cock so it sits between your ass checks. if he dips any lower, his precome will mix deliciously with his spit.

a little voice tells him he shouldn’t. hell, his brothers are just down stairs. you’re sleeping and pope knows how much you need your sleep.

his wet thumb rub over the prominent vein of his cock, debating.

a soft hiss escapes his lips when you move slightly. your ass pressed against his cock, an invitation. one he can’t turn down.

“fuck, just the tip,” he whispers to himself. almost like he’s trying to convince himself to not go any further than he already has.

the same thumb that rubbed the vein on his cock, pushed so his cock lines up with your entrance. the hand that isn’t squeezing the flesh of your ass grips the base of his cock.

it’s a tight fit, one he’s never felt because he always starts with a couple fingers.

he can’t even pull his eyes away.

doesn’t want to miss the way your pussy struggles to let him in, even if it’s just the tip. refusing to blink, pope watches the way your pussy stretches to accommodate his thick cock.

with a gentle rock of his hips, he breathes a sigh of relief when your warm walls clench around the mushroom head of his cock. mimicking his sigh, your eyes threaten to open when pope nudges his cock further. a pressure builds between your thighs is nearly enough to pull you away from your sleep.

sensing you’re seconds from waking up, pope pulls away.

he looks down to find his cock twitching against his tummy, then to your pussy, which is a fuckin sight. clenching around nothing, and spitting out the precome that pope already managed to spill inside you.

before he can think, two fingers scoop as much as he can before slipping them inside you. soft lewd noises fill the room as pope slides his fingers inside you. shoving his fingers as deep as he can then pulling away.

using the wetness on his fingers, he coats his cock with it before the tip notches at your opening and dips in. before he can go any deeper, pope pulls out, and lightly smacks his cock on your ass. then goes back to dipping his cock inside you.

it’s a never-ending cycle, a cycle that has pope twitching every time your walls hug the tip of his cock.

with every repeat, your pussy gets slicker. maybe it’s the way his cock leaks inside you, or maybe it’s your body’s way of begging for more.

each shallow thrust has his chest heaving, and every smack has him gripping the base of his cock even tighter.

a particularly firm thrust has your body tensing and your fingers gripping the bedsheets. on the brink of waking up, you let out a soft moan.

“shhh,” pope shushes, his hips never stopping, too occupied with chasing his orgasm.

“go back to sleep.”

with a soft sigh, you listen and pope swears there’s a smile on your face.

you let your body fall into your dreamless sleep and let the man above you spill inside you with a loud groan.

pope’s groan echos through the hallway and reaches the men downstairs. they all share a look. some bothered, the others proud.

“is this his girlfriend’s place?”

all eyes turn to craig who simply nods, “yeah.”

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