a warm smile of his own takes over his face, stepping forth until he’s hovering over you, drinking in the sight of you all comfortable in your hefty purchase. he drops a big hand down to the top of your head, forcing your gaze slightly back down, patting the strands of your hair flat.

“i love it,” he hums back, gaze straying to the globes of your ass, calling to him through the fabric of your thin tights. he used to be so quick to rip his wandering eyes away from you, almost feeling ashamed for staring.

now he has every right to.

in one fluid motion, he’s using the backrest of the couch for support, climbing to sink his knees into the cushion beside your thighs. he brackets your body, pressing his bulge against your plump ass and lowering his chin to tuck into your shoulder.

“i think we should break it in,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear in suggestion, unable to hold himself back like he usually does. the day was long, his mind was ready for some rest and relaxation. you looked so inviting, wrapped up like a present in the comfort of your new home, face buried in your phone when he had arrived. “what do you think?”

a roll of his hips pushes against you and you moan out at the feeling, allowing him to tug your tights down your legs, refusing to move an inch. he takes your silence and lack of fight as his own personal greenlight, thumb hooking under the flesh of your rounded asscheek, spreading it upwards to give room for a glob of spit to slide down to your folds.

his tip smears the stickiness until you’re slick, his other hand occupied with jiggling the fat of your twin cheek. you mewl into the skin of your arm, his favorite sound— if he had known you’d be so needy for his touch, he would’ve fucked you years ago. time is a thief and he can’t help but feel robbed of all of the missed opportunities he could have utilized to make you cum.

with the guidance of his fingers, he slides the tip past your twitching entrance. your gooey walls suck him in like quicksand, giving little room for retraction, swallowing his girth up with ease. your body is hungry for him and it makes his eyes roll into the back of his head, releasing a groan in time with your strained whimper. “how many times have i fucked this pussy?”

he knows better than to expect an answer from you when he first slides in, dumbed on his dick, spasming and struggling to adjust to his length. you’ve never been good at responding when you take caleb inside of your little pussy, fighting the stretch, mind blank.

“i don’t-“

“too many times,” he corrects you, responds for you. his voice stutters and his hot breath graces your ear, craning his neck painfully so just to get a glimpse of your face. “i’ve fucked you too many times and you’re still so tight for me.”

the words make your cheeks burn with embarrassment, heart pounding in your ears, body melted into the cushions that seem to suck you right in. the expensive, brand new couch was already being defiled and you had no say in it this time around, cream and juices slipping down your thighs to stain the light fabric. caleb catches sight of your hands curling into one of the throw pillows, desperate for leverage, afraid that you’ll float up into the clouds with bliss.

he starts his pace, slow and dangerous. your cunt has drenched him in arousal, lewd slaps sticking to your ass each time his pelvis drives into you. a hand finds its way up your back, inching slowly like a snake, sliding across your spine. he brushes between your shoulder blades, pounding filthy moans out of you that you nearly choke on. his palm reaches its desired spot on the nape of your neck, the loving caress of his thumb betraying the harsh way he holds your face against the seat.

“you sound the prettiest when you let me use you,” the weight of the day crushes him, leads his hips into a faster pace. caleb never allows himself to bring the fleet’s issues home for you to deal with. they are strictly his burden to shoulder but you make it so easy to take it out on you, lying face down, muffling your cries and moans. “what a nice girl. takin’ me like a slut, legs open for me as soon as i walk through that door. all you do is listen.”

your battered pussy constricts him, wraps around him so tight that he can barely breathe. deep groans melt into something weaker, sighs and whines that barely sound like him, a hand coming down to spank your ass in an effort to loosen you up. it backfires on him in the worst of ways, makes you pulse with interest, balls clapping against your sensitive clit with rhythm.

“only sluts like getting smacked on their asses,” he hisses, a breathy laugh of realization bubbling in his throat. he’s being so different yet he still has those touches of familiarity, soothing the stinging skin with the attentive love he’s always had. “that’s what you must be, huh? a slut? living and breathing for my cock, aren’t you?”

you shake as you cum, mouth agape, throat sore from the wrecked moans he’s ripped right out of you. the milky white ring around his base has him dizzy, biting at his bottom lip, the last shred of restraint disappearing into the air. he slows his hips and you’re limp in your own sticky mess, catching your breath, gaining back bits and pieces of your sanity with his relaxed pace.

“look alive,” he mutters, chest to your back, free hand gripping your face with authority. he turns it towards him, planting a wet kiss on your cheek. you blink at him, lost, eyelashes sticking together. it brews a smile in return, shoving your face right back in place against the sofa. “i still need to cum.”

tonight was gonna be a long night.