thali

“Mmhp—! Hnng. .” You loudly moan into the pillow, uselessly scratching at the soft yet slightly wet fabric.

Cock buried deep in your pussy, he rolls his hips— stirring up your cum coated walls with an obscure and nasty squelchhh. In response, his thick cum pools around his thick shaft. . his seed slowly drips onto the dirtied sheets. You let out an exhausted moan into the pillow, squealing loudly when Caleb pulls out until only the bulbous tip of his cock was plugged into your messy hole before slamming his hips into yours, with a pwap plap, causing your walls to quiver around his dick. . gushing out even more of his cum. 

“Nngh sh- shitt, babe! S- so noisy. .” Caleb heavily pants out, teeth biting at his swollen bottom lip, drawing crimson liquid from the flesh. 

“B- baby! Y- you’re soo —hnng. . wet” He hiccups, pausing his motion of rolling his hips against yours, opting to switch to thrusting deep and hard into your gushing cunt.

While you’re exhausted and purely cock drunk, Caleb, somehow, has enough pleasure to pound you into the bed— perhaps it was the godly sight in front of him that spurred him further on. Scattered along your neck, collarbone, and back are purplish red bite marks littered on your flesh. . deliciously pretty. Every time he slams into you, your plump ass jiggles and bounces with the toe curling thrust— there’s a mixture of sweat and dried cum on the flesh. 

You squirm and thrash, weakly attempting to escape from the mind numbing pleasure that’s being fed to your body. The grip on your hips quickly becomes mean and bruising, it’s obvious Caleb isn’t going to let you easily escape from him. You drool into the pillow, tears spilling from your watery eyes. 

One of the hands on your hips shakily grab at your hair, gently yet firmly pulling you from the tear shaken pillow— forcing your body into a difficult arch that lets Caleb abuse your sweet spots even better.

“Do- don’t try to —ohhhfuck. . t- to squirm from me!” Caleb grunts out, releasing your hair, letting you slump back onto the bed before his hips grab at your hips tightly. 

Your eyes go wide, that knot in your belly snapping, pussy gushing around his cock for the nth time. The feeling of overstimulation is familiar, your body trembling against the bed— sobbing into the fabric when Caleb’s full balls slap harshly at your engorged clit, causing jets of cum to squirt from your cunt. 

“F- fuckkk. . Yo- you’re squeezingme sooo tight—! Nnghfuck. . baby!” He chokes on a moan, fingers digging deeper into your plump hips, surely leaving purple marks behind, tugging you to meet his thrust halfway.

“L- leb’ haaah-! Sl- slow!” You squeal, voice muffled by the cloth.

The wet plap and fwopping sounds of Caleb’s skin meeting yours in deafening, mingling with the nasty squelch and slosh of your velvety walls stretching perfectly around his dick. Submitting to desire, a hand grabs at the globs of fat of your ass— fondling and greedily groping at the soft flesh that spills between his fingers. 

“Haah. .? W- what was that, baby —nngh!” Caleb groans out, pinching at your ass.

“Wa- want me to —ngh shit. . s- slow down? N- no. Yo- you’ve. been. teasing. me. all. fucking. day—!” He breathes out between loud moans and whimpers, each word followed by a delicious thrust that makes tingles course through your spine. . the creaking sound of the bed giving way slowly intensifies.

“Y- you’re gonna break —ohmygod. . t- the bed!” You attempt to reason, that doesn’t stop you from squeezing tightly around him as you buck your hips to feel him push in deeper into your pussy. 

Your words seem to go into one ear, exiting out the other. It’s like Caleb hasn’t really processed your words, mindlessly fucking his overstimulated cock erotically into your sloppy cunt. 

“G- gotta t- teach you a lesson. . hnng-!” Caleb hiccups, hands lifting in the air before landing on your asscheek, eliciting a delighted squeal. 

It’s louder and clear now— the sounds of the bed shaking, the faint cracks of the wooden frame giving way. Completely cock drunk, you struggle to push your ass back against Caleb, desperate to feel his cock burying itself deeper and deeper into your gooey walls until you're full of his thick cum. Another painful smack has you drooling and whimpering into the pillow, the dim pain melting into overwhelming pleasure.

“Haah. . Y’knew h- he was —holyshit. . fl- flirting with you, baby!” He whimpers out loudly, groaning when your walls spasm around his length when he brushes against your sweet spot.

Another loud smack, your poor asscheek is already beginning to turn a pretty shade of red— you’re loving every second. That familiar knot in your lower belly is getting tighter and tighter, you are soo close to cumming again. 

“Hnng—! P- please. . d- don’t stoppp!” You mewl, gasping in ecstasy when he pistons his hips to ensure he pounds into your sweet spot. 

You can tell he’s close too— the way his grip on your hips and ass tightens painfully, his thrust sloppily, cock throbbing and bobbing deep in your pussy, his moans and whines getting louder. You let out an open mouth scream into the pillow, cumming for the nth time around his cock, the ring of cum smearing onto his pelvis and the skin of your ass. Caleb whimpers your name loudly, pushing his hips flushed against yours, balls pressed against your puffy clit, cock spurting a copious amount of cum into your cunt, the excess dripping out of your stuffed pussy.  

“Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoui—“ Caleb babbles dumbly, rolling his hips against yours, the wet slosh of him burying his seed deeper into your pussy. 

He slowly pulls out with a wet pop, silently watching his cum pour out from your messy cunt. Caleb drags his cock through your swollen folds, back and forth, pressing himself back into your cunt with a wet squelchh. A weak attempt, you try to squirm and thrash from his grip but he keeps you still, hips smashing into yours. 

Not a single drop of regret bubbles in you— getting your boyfriend jealous might be your favorite occupation, especially when he’ll fuck you stupid and spank you until your ass is a pretty shade of red in response. 

⭑.RAFAYEL

Perhaps having Rafayel as a boyfriend has made a certain playful side of yourself develop—  you’ve been teasing him all week in numerous ways, knowingly riling up your poor boyfriend. Sitting on his lap randomly, grinding your ass against his crotch early in the morning, bending over to pick up something you accidentally dropped. It was inevitable, he’d eventually submit to his own desires.

He is in heaven— the feeling of plump, squishy thighs pressed firmly against the sides of his head, the scent of you is much more intense, and your sweet cunt for him to mindlessly lap at. So what if he easily fell for your little trap? How could he possibly care when he’d end up trapped between your thighs? Rafayel is nasty messy, dragging his tongue through your slickened folds— the noisy sound of his lips wrapping around your puffy clit, the wet squelch of his tongue dipping into your gummy entrance, and the muffled sounds of your boyfriend moaning into your pussy.

Each time Rafayel drags his tongue along your syrupy slit, perfect nose pressed into your clit— you’d buck, tremble, and hump his face weakly. . smearing your sticky juices all over his face. And every time you’d unconsciously press your pussy harder into his face, he’d let out a shameless moan into your core, the delicious vibrations coursing through your body. . making you moan even louder. Ooh fuck, and the way you’d let out a deafening squeal when he thrusts his tongue in and out of your velvety walls— your fingers darting to firmly grab at the purple strands of his hair, carding through his hair and occasionally tugging on it.

“Mmhp— ohhhfuck! Hung. . r- rafyie” you mewl out softly, voice hoarse and broken from how much moans and whimpers that Rafayel has ripped from you, you weakly roll your hips to grind your overstimulated pussy on his face. 

This is the first time you’ve ever heard your boyfriend soo quiet before, minus all the moaning and whining he’s unbashfully letting out into your swollen pussy, finally not babbling out praise and worship for you. However, that’s just because he’s proving his love in another way— keeping his mouth busy with lapping, sucking, slurping until you can’t help but cum into his mouth. Rafael slowly drags his thick tongue through your sopping folds, up and down in a dizzying manner, his nose pressing against your swollen clit. . lewdly inhaling your addictive scent that surrounded him.

The pressure on your clit has you crying out his name loudly, squirming lightly. Each time Rafayel glides his tongue through your syrupy pussy, your folds part, giving him the chance to taste the arousal that leaks from your messy hole. The grip on your hips tightens, a finger tapping on your plush flesh twice— you lift your hips up enough room for him to breath. 

“Haah. . ohmygod, my pearl” Rafayel breathes out between ragged pants, his warm breath fanning onto your spit and arousal covered clit.

“You taste sooo de- delicous, cutie. .” He says quietly, kissing at your puffy clit tenderly— chuckling softly when the bud throbs against his lips. 

Rafayel tugs you back down onto his face, fingers tightly digging into your plump hips. . forcing you to roll your hips, grinding your heat on his face. He glides his tongue through your folds two times, back and forth back and forth, before he plunges his tongue into your quivering hole— summoning a loud whine of pleasure. The feeling of his tongue dragging along your velvety walls has your toes curling, eyes rolling back, and a whine of Rafayel being ripped from you.

“Hnng-! I-I can’t —nghhh. . can't take anymore. .” You babble out, squirming and writhing, though to no avail.

He tilts his head upwards, lips engulfing your puffy clit— sucking harshly until he feels your hips jolt. Greedily, one of his hands grabs at your ass chick while the other one stays glued firmly to your hips. Rafayel plays with the supple flesh, squeezing and fondling at the globs of fat on your ass— giving it a soft smack. 

“Haah-! Nnghfuck. . t- too much. . raf’!” You sob loudly, tears clinging in the corner of your eyes.

The feeling of overstimulation has you whimpering and trembling helplessly,  but Rafayel can’t stop— he needs to coax out more and more of your delicious juices. Oh, he’s hooked on you. He’s basking in your reactions; every single time your moans become high pitched, he’d peer up from between your thighs.

“Mmhp—! Fu- fuck. . feels too Ra- Rafie! Wanna. .—nghh, cuum” you slur out dumbly between whines, squealing when he spanks to the flesh of your ass.

That knot in your stomach is getting tighter with every passing second, you are trembling violently now. Rafayel’s tongue delves through your sopping folds— tongue tracing through your creamy slit, driving you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. Maybe the lightheadedness, from the lack of oxygen and drunk off your taste and scent, finally got to your boyfriend’s head— perhaps that’s the only explanation of his cock throbbing violently in need.

Rafayel is widely bucking his hips into the air, fucking into nothing— caught between the option of eating you out until his jaw aches or giving into the need. . ultimately choosing to worship his girlfriend. The moment he suckles onto your clit, tongue smoothing the swollen flesh. . you’re letting out a loud sob, tears dripping down your cheek. You wail loudly, cumming around nothing, shakily rolling your hips as you ride out your orgasm.

“Haah—! Fu- fuck me. .” you sigh out softly, shakily lifting yourself off his face.

There’s thin strings of arousal connected between your pussy and his face, his face covered in your juices and arousal. Messy and nasty. 

“Haah. . yo- you taste soo good” Rafayel pants, it’s quite obvious he’s just as drunk as you are— pussy drunk. 

“—Need more. .” He murmurs out, gently spanking the warm flesh of your ass, dragging you onto his face again with the personality of man that intends to make you jelly boned and sobbing in ecstasy.

⭑.XAVIER

You are a complete, hot mess— fat tears clinging from the corner of your eyes, loudly whimpering and whining from the overwhelming pleasure, weakly and helplessly clawing at the soft fabric of a pillow before you. Eyes burning with hunger and need gazes at your body; skin covered in a slight sheen of sweat from the heat and ecstasy. . glistening in the dimmed lights to cast a pretty shining effect on your gorgeous body, scattered along the flesh of your neck and back are purple and red hickey marks from Xavier’s hungry mouth. 

If it wasn’t for the calloused hands, greedily grabbing at your plus hips with a firm grip, dragging you to meet Xavier’s rough thrusts halfway. .you would have already collapsed on the bed from the sheer exhaustion. You’re completely drunk from that additive feeling of intense pleasure, with each orgasm ripped from your body, the pleasure bleeds into overstimulation yet you still beg for more— perhaps this is what it meant to be cockdrunk. You are tumbling violently like a small leaf, you can barely hold your loud whines and tears every time his cock drags perfectly along your velvety walls. . easily pounding into your sweet spots.

The apartment room is deafening, surely the lewd harmony you both are creating can be heard perfectly. Each time Xavier gives you a frantic and rough thrust, his slender cock pushing deep into your gooey walls, an obscure squealchh and sloshing sound of your sopping cunt would fill the room along with the sounds of slick skin slapping against each other loudly. 

“Haaah—! O-ohfuckk. . f- feels sooo good” you mewl loudly, there’s a subtle burning sensation on your arms that’s planted on the bed, it must be from you trying to hold yourself up for soo long. 

“Nngh. . X- xavie!” You cry out his name loudly, earning yourself a pleased groan from your boyfriend. 

A noisy sob is ripped from your swollen lips when one of Xavier’s hands drags along the skin of your back to grab at your plump ass— needy fondling, squeezing, and smacking at the flesh until it turns to a pretty shade of red. In his eyes, he’s leaving his own mark on your delicious body. . just like what you did to his neck, except he’s worse and meaner. 

“Mmph haah. . yo- you knew he was —fuck. . staring a- at you. .” Xavier breathes out between ragged moans and grunts, hips noisily slamming into yours, the red, globs of fat jiggling from the impact. 

“We- were you tr- tryna’ . . nghfuuck so tight— make m- me jealous, darling?” Somehow, his thrusts become inhumanly and mercilessly fast. . causing a silent scream to be ripped from you and your head to become only a mush of thoughts while your white-coated walls quiver around his cock, eliciting a breathless whimper from Xavier. 

Oh godd, the way his cock drags along your sensitive walls has your body trembling from the overstimulation. The mess between your plump thighs is getting everywhere: the bed, the sheets, on your skin, and Xavier’s thighs and abdomen— the mess is starting to become worse and worse, your sloppy hole keeps leaking out a sticky mixture of your juices and his previous orgasms onto the bed below. Another rough spank to your ass has you bucking your hips towards him, weakly fucking yourself on his length. 

“oooh— fuckfuckfuckfuck! Nngh. . X- xavie! I- I. . f- feels amazing!” You squeal out loudly, fat tears dripping down your flushed cheeks— each rough thrust has a pleasurable wave of heat coursing through your body.

The sensitivity seemingly makes your senses sharper than usual. . everything feels more intense— the way Xavier’s slender’s cock throbs and jolts deep inside the warmth of your cunt or the way his balls slap, pwop, at your puffy clit til you’re gushing around his base.  

“I- I’m soo sorry— fuck!” You wail out, lips parting as strings of moans are ripped from you, eyes rolling back with a particular rough thrust. 

His hands cracks against your ass again, the sting melted into delicious and addictive pleasure, you gasp in response. Perhaps you did go overboard with making your dear boyfriend jealous, but getting fucking so good that you become cockdrunk. . you really wouldn’t mind doing it again. Those heavy balls of Xavier’s smacks against your engorged clit, heat pooling to your lower belly. 

“Haaah—! O-oh god. .” You drool, becoming awfully aware of that knot in your lower belly growing tighter and tighter. 

“Mmhp—. . a- and you —fuckkk. .” Xavier barely manages to get words out, groaning softly when you feel you flutter around his cock soo tightly.

“. .pretends l- like he wasn’t st- staring —holyshit, darling. . at y- you” he stutters out, another rough smack on your asscheek, eliciting out a yelp from you.

“X- Xavier—!” You voice is high pitched and deafening as you cry out his name, shamelessly moaning your boyfriend’s name. . there’s no way that man basically eye fucking you couldn’t hear from his room. 

“Hhng nngh—! Y- yes. . yesyesyes, scream out my n- name, starlight” Xavier encourages.

Xavier is so close to cumming; that rude and mean grip on your hip tightens ever so slightly, his thrust becoming sloppy and downright needy for an orgasm, and the way he’s just pulsing and twitching inside you. 

“C’mon. . s- scream out my name —gonnacum. . wa- want him to know y- you are all minee” he drools out, hips smacking painfully into yours. 

“X- Xavier —hnng, please!” You squeal, eyes rolling back as velvety walls quiver around his length, creaming around his cock for the nth time— the ring of cum around his base smears onto your skin. 

He lets out a breathless whimper, resting his weight on top of your body. . keeping you trapped against the bed. Xavier’s body is flushed with yours, cock spurting an overwhelming amount of cum into your stuffed pussy. Your eyes roll back, weakly gasping when he presses his hands onto your back, slowly thrusting his sensitive cock into your gushing and creamy pussy.

“X- xavie. . nooo! F- feel’s tooo good. .” You drool into the sheets, unable to make an effort to squirm away from the mind numbing pleasure. 

Even though Xavier is completely dumb from pleasure and overstimulation is biting at his flesh and mind. . he can’t stop— he needs to ensure that man knows you are his. . even if you spend all night fucking like bunnies.

⭑.ZAYNE

Your body feels extremely exhausted, skin sweaty and glistening, skin burning hot to the touch from the delicious heat that’s bloomed between you and your boyfriend. The addictive sensation of your ass cheek throbbing in pain from the countless spanks Zayne gifts to your flesh only serves to further heighten your sensitivity— each cruel swat to the red globs of flesh draws out a whiney whimper from your spit covered lips. Perhaps, acting like a brat towards you boyfriends wasn’t the smartest choice you’ve ever made. .

However; being forced to perch on top of his lap, feeling his hard cock pressing deep into your cunt, while calloused hands tenderly massage and roughly spank at the globs of fat until your flesh was raw and a pretty shade of red wasn’t something you’d object to receiving as punishment. Shakily and weakly, you roll your hip— eyes rolling back when you feel Zayne’s thick cock brush perfectly against your g-spot, whimpering when your puffy clit catches at the rough fabric of his pants. 

“Haah—. . ohmygod. Za- Zaynie!” You whine out his name in such a sweet voice, gasping erotically when he grabs at your sore ass cheek, firmly squeezing on the raw flesh while helping you bounce on his twitching cock. 

It’s a mess, tears clinging onto your lashes, drool seeping from your parted lips as you pant out warm air, mind set on one thing. . to finally cum after being edged for soo long. You quickly bury your fingers into Zayne’s shirt, bunching the fabric up between your fingers. . using it as leverage.

“Hnng—! C- can’t take it anymore. . b- baby!” You whimper out, trembling lightly in his arms.

Each time Zayne slams you back onto his lap, you swear, his cock reaches soo deep into your sopping cunt— forcing your pussy to make the nastiest and obscurest squelching sound. The wet squealchh and sloshing of sound of his dick reaching deep into your gooey walls can be heard from outside the closed room, along with the wet plap of skin meeting each other. 

“Nghh. . oooh, p- please, Zayne! N- needa’a cumm. . sooo badly. .” You beg in a whiney tone, sobbing when his cock massages your velvety walls perfectly. 

There’s a subtle burning sensation in your thighs from overexerting yourself, yet, you just can’t stop. . you really need to cum. Zayne groans out softly when he feels your walls spasm and flutter around his cock, dragging out a delightful moan of your name. 

“Z- Zayne. . c- can, anymore—“ you mewl, words barely making sense anymore. 

You are so close to cumming, that knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter than expected, the way your gooey walls spasm around his throbbing cock is enough to tell. Zayne huffs out between moans and groans, one of his hands on your plump hips dragging up your back— tugging you to be fleshed against his chest, fucking up into your messy cunt. 

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—! Wanna cum soo. . — Haah, need’a cum, please za- zaynie!” You babble out pathetically, burying your head into his neck— lips sucking at his flesh until a pretty bruise blooms at his skin.

You let out a loud cry when you feel Zayne’s hands gently smack against your ass cheek, a loud fwop, a silent reminder that he’s treating this like a punishment. You whimper softly when he fondled your ass cheek, pushing deeper into your sloppy pussy.

“You’ve been acting like a brat. . all. fucking. day. darling” Zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, each word followed by a toe curling thrust that makes a delicious wave of heat course through your body— earning a sob in response.

“You h- have clearly —nngh fuckk. . ha- haven’t learned your lesson, m- my beloved” he groans out between gritted teeth, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you trapped and flushed against him, angling his hips to graze against your g-spot.

“P- please, Zayne! I- I won’t tease you anymore —haah nghh, feels soo good”  you wail out, nuzzling yourself deeper into his neck, lips wrapping around his sensitive skin and sucking pretty bruises and love bites on his flesh— eliciting a breathless groan from your boyfriend. 

He knows you are lying. .

“P- please, j- just let me cum. . baby—“ you gasp out, weakly bucking your hips to meet his sloppy thrusts. 

How could Zayne possibly deny you when you’re pleading so sweetly, tears dripping 

onto his skin, muffled whimpers by his neck, gooey walls slamming around him. His thrusts become hurried and sloppy, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Oh fuckk, the way his cock drags along your velvety walls has that knot in your stomach tightening and your eyes rolling back. 

“Come on —nghhfuck. . c- cum for me, be- beloved” Zayne manages to breathe out between broken grunts.

One of the hands gripping firmly onto your hips dips between your bodies, finding where your two are connected— skilled fingers pressing and circling your puffy clit until you let out a loud cry. A loud moan is ripped from you as you gush around his cock, tears dripping down your cheeks from how intense your orgasm was, a ring of cum forming around the thick base of Zayne’s cock. 

“Haah—! F- fuk, Zaynie!” You drool, letting out a shaky breath when he buries his cock to the hilt of your cunt.

His cock throbs and twitches deep inside your sopping pussy, ropes of cum shooting into your gooey walls. Zayne grits out your name, slowly bouncing on his cock to help ride out both of your orgasms. You are a trembling mess in his arms, still recovering from your intense orgasm. 

However, Zayne is still bouncing you up and down his dick— overstimulation creeping over your body, you let out a soft whimper from the pleasure. 

“Nghh. . Haah, mhhp. . ‘M se- sensitive” you mewl out, that doesn’t stop you from rolling your hips to gain some of that delightful overstimulation. 

“You’ve been trying to get my a- attention all —fuckk. . day, darling” he mumbles, tilting his head to the side to press a warm kiss to your hair. 

“Surely this isn’t enough to satisfy you. .” Zayne teases, that tone alone is enough for you to know he isn’t done with you just yet. 

⭑.SYLUS

There was something soo enticing and entertaining about teasing your poor, oh so sweet, boyfriend restlessly. Ranging from innocently bending over in front of him wearing a pretty short skirt, gracing him the perfect view of your crimson panties. Purposely leaving the bathroom door wide open for Sylus to see you— naked and beautiful body covered in droplets of warm water, steamy air surrounding you inside the shower. 

You’ve even resorted to indulging him in his desires, plush lips firmly pressed against each other in a steamy kiss— your warm lips lightly peppering against his jaw to his neck. . sucking a pretty mark onto his neck before pulling away with an obvious excuse. Oh godd, you truly can be quite a little minx. It was inevitable; Sylus would eventually submit to his own desires and corner you. . like a predator finally capturing its prey.

“Mmhp. . doing soo —fuckk. . well f’me, kitten” Sylus groans out between rough and ragged groans, voice muffled slightly by the mounds of flesh on your chest pressed against his face— occasionally taking in your perky nipples into his hungry mouth to suckle and lap at the bud until you whimper.

Sylus has a brushing grip on your squishy and plump hips, calloused hands helping you to ride his cock— the loud fwopping sound of his skin meeting yours is loud. His fat cock easily pushes deep in your velvety walls, due to the amount of wetness you’ve produced, with a lewd squealchh. The sticky mixture of both your essence and his cum is smeared everywhere; his lap, abdomen, and your thighs and ass.

Gazing up towards you with hooded eyes and clouded with desire, everything about you was intoxicating to him— fat tears clinging to your eyes lashes and eyes glossy, lips parted as he rips strings of moans from your swollen lips, and the way your gooey walls squeezes around his cock. . it makes him feel dizzy from the pleasure. You tremble in his hands intensely, barely letting out coherent sentences besides his name over and over. Sylus is soo big; buried deep in your sopping pussy, stretching your walls out perfectly, twitching and throbbing inside your cunt— it has your body burning in ecstasy and creaming around his thick base with a loud squeal.  

Your thighs are beginning to have this slight uncomfortable burning sensation from spending such a long period of time being fucked dumb on Sylus’s cock, the pleasure has officially rendered you cock drunk.

“Hang mmhp—! I- I. . ca- can’t! t- too tired. . nghh!” You mewl out in a whiney voice, panting and breathing heavy from the heat.

Before you can even attempt to finish up your sentence, he’s bucking his hips to push deeper into your gushing cunt, pressing into your poor g-spot. That deep, unforging thrust he does has your eyes rolling back, and whimpering out your boyfriend’s name loudly. One of Sylus’s arms wraps around your back, pulling you closer to push your boobs closer to his face— he lets out a delighted groan into your perky nipples as he drags his tongue against the bud, drawing out a gasp from you.

“Y- you enjoy teasing —ohfuckk, so tight. . me, sweetheart?” He grunts out against your chest, engulfing both of your nipples into his hungry and insatiable mouth before sucking harshly, eliciting out a broken moan from you.

The only response he gains is an unapologetic and teasing giggle from you, it quickly melts into a loud and surprised moan when his hand on your hip swiftly cracks at your ass. Sylus swiftly spanks at the same cheek twice, summoning a loud moan, more tears brimming in the corner of your eyes. It shouldn’t excite you, but it does, the sticky cream that gushes from your cunt and forms around the base of his dick is enough evidence. 

Perhaps it’s the overstimulation that’s making you act so giddy and incoherent— besides, it’s not like Sylus’s tone carries any hostility, in fact, it seems he’s teasing you back. 

“Haaah—! Ohmyfucking. . godd, s- sy!” You wail out, velvety walls squeezing around his cock like a vice, that knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. 

“Mmhp nngh! I- I don’t know wh- what you're talking about, ho- honey!” You coo out softly, feigning innocence, whining out when his hands roughly massaged the reddened globs of flesh.

Another loud smack, your poor asscheek is already beginning to turn a pretty shade of red— you’re just in love.

“D- don’t fucking. . —nngh” Sylus starts, interrupting himself by lewdly slurping at your poor nipples, even gently nibbling at the flesh, electing a squeal from you.

Smack

“— act. . innocent with me, sweetie” he purrs out, miraculously speeding up his brutal pace when he feels our gooey walls quivering and flutter around his cock uncontrollably.

Smack. Smack.

You let out a loud wail, the little bossy word you wished to say dies at the tip of your tongue. At this point, there will be red marks on your poor ass cheek and a pretty bruise on your hips, serving as a sweet and lovely reminder of tonight.

“Oooooh. .  fuck! fuckfuckfuck. .” You gasp out loudly, scratching at his chest weakly, leaving only red marks on his skin— earning yourself a raspy chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Nngh—! C- can’t cum. . not again—!” You wail out, trembling violently in his arms. 

“Yes you can, kitten” Sylus murmurs against your swollen boobs, angling his hips slightly.

You drool, screaming out his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling— cumming around his thick cock for the nth time, sobbing when his hands spanks at your flesh again. You whimper, crying out his name when he stills fucking up into your messy cunt. You go limp in his arms, thighs trembling lightly.

“C’mon, sweetie. . — haah. . you’ve had your fun alll dayy” he draws out his words, pressing a soft kiss to the front of your neck, a complete contrast from how meanly thrusting up into your overstimulated pussy.

“Isn’t it fair I have mine. .?” Sylus teases lightly, fingers massaging at your red ass.

# All work belongs to only ME, jadestone2. Translating, plagiarism, copying, posting on another website, claiming as your work will NOT be tolerated, instant block⭑.ᐟ

⭑.[ AUTHOR NOTE ] Tehe. . betta weren’t expecting mommy to finally post hmm<33 but it did, mwah! Anywhores, I'm so so so rlly sorry for being absent, a lil summery, i did gain a leg injury and have already 2 weeks in the boot + i have to do another 2 weeks on ankle braces. . But I decided my babies deserve a long gift, I made to make sure I put my life in my writing<33 btw, if u say there’s obvious bias in how I wrote the characters, mommy is blocking you 4ever, tehe. I rlly love my new theme, I still have to change the whole blog but it’ll happen soon!

For weeks after, you starved. Really starved. The kind that made your vision tunnel and your tail throb from being coiled too tight under human skin. Sipping energy from strangers on the street was like drinking watered-down wine—thin, flavorless, barely a tease. You needed the real thing: stupid, trusting, virile boys who poured themselves out without knowing what they were giving.

So you scrolled Craigslist, stomach growling, desperation sharp in your throat.

"Looking for chill bro or bro-ette to split rent. Must be cool with loud video games and occasional shirtless cooking. No drama. Serious inquiries only. —Caleb"

You stood outside the address that Saturday, duffel bag at your feet, hunger gnawing at your ribs like a second heartbeat. The door swung open and there he was—six-foot-something of golden-tanned muscle, messy brown hair still damp from a shower, a grin so bright and guileless it should come with a warning label. Basketball shorts slung low on his hips, purple eyes, radiating so much pure, dumb vitality you nearly moaned out loud right there on the porch.

"Hey! You must be the new roommate! Dude, you look way cooler than your profile pic. Come in, come in—watch the step, it's kinda fucked."

He grabbed your bag like it weighed nothing, biceps flexing without effort, and led you inside like you'd known each other for years.

Oblivious. Wholesome. Delicious.

This was going to be torture.

The best fucking kind.

The first night in the apartment, you decided to ease into it. No need to scare off the golden retriever with too much teeth right away.

You waited until Caleb was sprawled on the couch in nothing but those damn low-slung basketball shorts, controller in hand, yelling at some pixelated enemy on the TV. Shirtless, of course—because why would the universe give you mercy? Sweat still clinging to the ridges of his abs from whatever “light evening lift” he’d done before you got home. You padded out of your room in the tiniest sleep shorts you owned and a cropped tank that rode up every time you breathed. Tail tucked, horns glamoured, but everything else screaming—come and get it.

You dropped onto the couch beside him—close. Thigh pressed to thigh. Arm draped casually over the backrest so your fingers could brush the warm skin of his shoulder.

“Long day?” you purred, letting your voice dip low, velvet-smooth.

Caleb didn’t even look away from the screen. Just flashed that big, sunny grin. “Yeah, dude! Crushed legs today. Feeling the burn. You should come to the gym with me tomorrow—spot me on squats?”

You leaned in, lips inches from his ear. “I’d love to watch you squat. Bet those thighs could crush me.”

He laughed—bright, oblivious, like you’d just told a great joke. “Haha, right? They’re getting huge. Thanks for the support, roomie!” Then he flexed one quad absentmindedly, the muscle jumping under golden skin, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from whimpering. “Hey, you want a protein shake? I made extra. Vanilla. Tastes like dessert.”

You stared at him. Blinked. “…Sure. Why not.”

He bounced up—actually bounced—ass flexing in those shorts as he jogged to the kitchen. You heard the blender roar to life. Thirty seconds later he was back, handing you a frosty glass with a bendy straw already in it. “Here ya go! Extra scoop for gains. You look like you could use some fuel, you’ve been kinda pale since you moved in.”

You took a slow sip, eyes locked on his while you dragged your tongue deliberately around the straw. “Mmm. Thick. Just how I like it.”

“Awesome! I blend mine with peanut butter too sometimes. Game changer.” He plopped back down, thighs spreading wide enough that his knee knocked yours. “You’re so chill, by the way. Most girls get weird about me walking around half-naked. You’re like… one of the bros already.”

You nearly choked on whey protein.

The next morning you upped the ante.

He was making breakfast—shirtless again, because apparently the concept of shirts existed only between 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. in this house—flipping eggs in nothing but boxer briefs that left exactly zero to the imagination. You sauntered in wearing his oversized hoodie you’d “accidentally” stolen from the laundry pile, the hem barely skimming the tops of your thighs. No panties. Obviously.

You hopped up on the counter right beside the stove, legs dangling, spreading them just enough that if he looked down he’d get an eyeful.

“Morning, big guy,” you drawled, letting one foot hook lazily behind his calf. “Sleep well?”

Caleb turned, spatula in hand, and beamed like the sun had personally complimented him. “Yo! Yeah, killer sleep. You were tossing around a bit though—bad dreams? You okay?”

His eyes flicked to where your bare thigh pressed against his hip. No leer. No flush. Just genuine concern.

“I was… restless,” you murmured, sliding a hand up his bare arm, nails grazing the swell of his bicep. “Kept thinking about you. All that muscle. How strong you are.”

He puffed up a little—proud puppy mode activated. “Thanks! Been hitting PRs on bench. Wanna feel?” Before you could answer he grabbed your hand and slapped it flat against his pec, flexing so the muscle bounced under your palm. “Solid, right? Like a brick.”

You squeezed. Hard. Dragged your nails down to the happy trail disappearing into his waistband. “So solid. I bet you could pin me down easy.”

Caleb laughed again—that big, dumb, happy sound. “Haha, yeah, probably! You’re tiny compared to me. Hey—want some eggs? I made extra. Gotta keep the calories up if we’re gonna be gym buddies.”

You stared at the ceiling while he plated food like nothing had happened.

By week two you were losing your goddamn mind.

You started walking around in lingerie “because it’s hot” (the AC worked fine). You “accidentally” brushed your ass against his crotch while reaching for a mug. You left your door cracked while changing, giving him full view of you bending over to pick up clothes. You sat in his lap during movie night “because the couch is small” and ground down just enough to feel him twitch beneath you—only for him to pat your head like a golden retriever and say, “You’re so cuddly tonight! This is awesome. Best roommate ever.”

You tried dirty talk. Straight-up filthy.

One night he came out of the shower with just a towel slung low, water still dripping down those ridiculous abs, towel clinging to the thick outline of—

You cornered him in the hallway, pressed your body flush against his, lips brushing his collarbone. “Caleb,” you whispered, voice wrecked with actual hunger, “I want you to wreck me so hard I forget my own name. Bend me over right here. Use me. Please.”

He froze for a second—finally, a reaction—then grinned so wide his dimples popped. “Whoa, intense! You must be really stressed or something. You need a hug?” And before you could process, he wrapped those massive arms around you in the world’s most wholesome bear hug, lifting you clean off the floor, cheek smushed against his damp chest. “There we go. Better?”

You went limp in his arms, defeated. Starving. Soaked. And somehow still unbearably fond of this beautiful idiot.

He set you down, ruffled your hair. “Protein shake? You look hungry.”

You groaned into your hands.

This wasn’t seduction anymore.

This was torture.

And the worst part was—you were starting to like the torture.

Days blurred into weeks, and somehow—against every predatory instinct you’d honed over centuries—you started getting used to him.

Caleb’s energy wasn’t just food anymore. It was background noise, warm and constant, like sunlight spilling through cracked blinds every morning. He woke up at 6 a.m. without fail, humming off-key pop songs from the ‘00s while he blended protein shakes that tasted like chalk and optimism. He’d leave one on the counter for you with a sticky note— “Extra scoop + banana bc u said u like sweet stuff!! 💪🍌” You’d stare at it, stomach twisting with actual hunger and something softer, uglier.

You kept trying. Of course you did. You were still a succubus, still starving, still wired to take.

One evening you waited until he finished his post-gym shower, towel slung dangerously low again, droplets tracing paths down the deep V of his hips. You stepped into the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but one of his hoodies—unzipped, sleeves swallowing your hands, hem barely covering the curve of your ass. You leaned against the frame, legs crossed, letting the fabric slip off one shoulder.

“Caleb,” you said, voice low and wrecked, “come here. Let me take care of you for once.”

He turned, towel clutched in one hand, hair dripping into his eyes, and lit up like you’d just offered him front-row tickets to WrestleMania.

“Yo! You’re up late. You okay?” He stepped closer—close enough you could smell soap and clean sweat and that maddening, rich undercurrent of pure life that made your fangs ache. “You look kinda… intense. Hungry?”

You reached out, fingers trailing down his sternum, nails catching lightly on the trail of hair below his navel. “Starving,” you breathed. “I want to taste every inch of you.”

His grin went nuclear. “Aww, dude! That’s so sweet. Here—” He darted past you into the kitchen, still basically naked, and came back thirty seconds later holding a thick slice of sourdough slathered with peanut butter. “Open up! Atta girl!”

Before you could protest, he gently but firmly shoved the bread into your mouth. “There ya go. Peanut butter’s got protein and healthy fats. You’ve been looking extra tired lately. Eat up, roomie.”

You stood there, mouth full of bread, peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth, staring at this beautiful idiot who thought “taste every inch” meant “feed me a snack.” He ruffled your hair with his free hand, beaming.

“Better?”

You chewed slowly. Swallowed. Felt something crack inside your chest.

“…Yeah,” you lied.

Mornings became routine torture in the sweetest way. He’d make breakfast for both of you—eggs scrambled with spinach because “greens are important, even if they taste like sadness,” bacon crispy the way you liked it even though you’d never told him. He’d slide a plate in front of you, then hand you the second protein shake he’d blended “just in case you wanted company drinking yours.” He did laundry on Sundays, folding your tiny lace things with the same careful focus he gave his gym socks, never blinking at the thongs or garters. “These are cute! You got good taste.”

He brought home flowers one random Tuesday—daisies from the corner bodega because “they looked happy, like you.” Stuck them in an old Gatorade bottle on the kitchen table. You stared at them until the petals started drooping, then quietly poured half a glass of water so they’d last longer.

On walks to the corner store he’d stop for every dog. Every. Single. One. Crouching down in the middle of the sidewalk, massive hands gentle as he scratched behind ears, cooing in that deep, dumb-happy voice—“Who’s a good boy? You are! Yes you aaaaarrrrereee!” Strangers smiled at him like he was personally responsible for world peace. You stood a few feet away, arms crossed, tail twitching under your glamour, hating how the sight made your chest ache.

You were genuinely starting to feel bad.

Not guilty—never quite that. But bad. Like you were holding a knife to the throat of the only person who’d ever treated you like you belonged somewhere.

Random men on the street still smelled wrong. Thin. Sour. Like recycled air and disappointment. You could feed off them if you had to—had done it for weeks after the frat shut down—but it was like drinking flat soda. No heat. No rush. No flavor that exploded on your tongue and made your wings want to unfurl.

Caleb smelled like summer. Like sun-warmed skin and clean cotton and the kind of stupid, uncomplicated joy that made you want to sink your teeth in and never let go. You wanted to drain him dry, ride him until he was boneless and smiling that same goofy smile even as his eyes fluttered shut. You wanted to take everything and leave him sleeping like the others.

But every time you got close—every time you pressed against him on the couch, every time you whispered filth in his ear while he played video games—he just… grinned. Offered more food. More hugs. More of that relentless, brainless affection that was starting to feel more dangerous than any starvation.

You were in denial.

You told yourself it was just hunger talking. That once you fed—really fed—you’d be back to normal. Cold. Detached. The way you’d always been.

But the longer you lived in his orbit, the more the lie tasted like ash.

One night you sat on the kitchen counter while he washed dishes, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, humming again. You watched the flex of his forearms, the easy way he moved, and something ugly twisted in your gut.

You were starving.

For the first time in centuries, you weren’t sure if it was for his energy…

…or just for him.

The need was still there, clawing at your insides like a living thing, and it was pure torture.

Caleb would walk past you in the hallway—muscles flexing with every casual step, tank top clinging to the sweat of whatever mini-workout he’d just finished—and you’d catch that scent again. Warm, golden, stupidly potent. Like summer rain on hot asphalt mixed with clean skin and raw vitality. Your mouth would water, fangs aching behind your glamour, tail twitching so hard it almost broke the illusion. You’d imagine a dozen ways to corrupt him: pinning him to the wall and riding him until he begged, draining him slow while he smiled that big dumb smile, making him yours in every filthy way a succubus could dream up.

But then your chest would tighten. A stupid, unfamiliar pang right under your ribs. He brought you daisies. He folds your laundry. He pets every dog like it’s his personal mission. And the mantra would kick in, sharp and automatic—“I’m an evil succubus. I take. I don’t care. I feed.”

So one night, when the apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and Caleb’s soft snores drifting down the hall, you gave in.

You slipped into his bedroom like smoke, door clicking shut behind you. The moonlight slanted through the blinds in silver bars across his bed, and your jaw dropped so fast it hurt.

Shirtless, of course. Always shirtless. Thick thighs spread wide even in sleep, the thin cotton of his boxer-briefs stretched tight over the obscene bulge between them. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his chest, catching the light, tracing the deep valleys between his pecs and down the center line of his abs. Low on his hips, the waistband rode dangerously down, exposing the sharp cut of his Adonis belt and the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath fabric. He looked like a fucking statue carved by someone with a very specific fetish.

You were drooling before you even realized it.

Tail swaying behind you—glamour half-forgotten in the haze of hunger—you crept closer. Leaned over him. Inhaled deep. Then dragged your tongue in one slow, fat stripe up the center of his chest, collecting that salty-sweet sweat. The taste exploded on your tongue—pure life, concentrated, better than anything the frat boys ever gave you. You moaned, soft and broken. “Fuck… so good.”

Your mouth found his neck next. Lips sealing over the pulse point, sucking gently, carefully—marking him with faint purple blooms you knew he’d chalk up to “weird gym rash” or “mosquito bites.” Your hand slid lower, palm cupping the heavy heat of him through the thin fabric. Fondling. Squeezing. Feeling him thicken and twitch under your touch.

He groaned in his sleep—low, sleepy, pleased—and you smirked against his skin. “Who can resist a succubus, hmm~”

You worked your way down. Licking. Sucking. Gentle nips along his collarbone, his pecs, the sensitive skin just under his nipple. Careful. So careful. He stayed asleep, breath hitching every time your tongue dipped into the grooves of his abs. Your fingers hooked the waistband of his shorts, tugging slow, reverent.

And then—

GRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The alarm on his bedside table screamed to life like a banshee on crack.

You yelped—actual cat-jump yelp—heart slamming against your ribs as you dove under the bed so fast you nearly knocked your head on the frame. Dust bunnies and a stray sock greeted you. Your pulse thundered in your ears.

Above you, Caleb groaned, long and miserable. “Fuuuuuck… five already?”

He swung those tree-trunk legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the floor with soft thuds. Yawned so wide you heard his jaw pop. Stretched—arms over head, back arching, every muscle popping in obscene relief. Then he stood.

And froze.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. “Why is my dick so fucking hard right now???”

You bit your lower lip so hard you tasted blood, peering up from your hiding spot. From this angle you had the perfect view—the obscene tent in his shorts, the thick outline straining against cotton, the way it jumped when he gave it a confused little pat like it was a misbehaving puppy.

He sighed. “Whatever, bro.”

Then—without hesitation—he shoved the waistband down.

Your mouth fell open.

It sprang free, heavy and flushed and huge. Thick veins running the length, flushed dark red at the tip, balls hanging low and full. A fucking horse dick. The kind of cock that belonged in porn or mythology, not attached to a man who still called protein shakes “bro-tein fuel.”

You stared, thighs clenching around nothing, pussy fluttering helplessly. How the fuck is he so dumb with a dick like that? Maybe God really did put all his brain cells into his cock and left the rest for smiling and petting dogs.

Caleb adjusted himself with a series of frustrated tugs—tucking, rearranging, grumbling under his breath. “Damn, bro, go down! It’s not the time! You’ll scare away the ladies!”

You gulped so loud you were sure he’d hear it.

Scare ladies away? Oh honey. You’d take that monster base-to-tip like the size queen you were born to be. You’d worship it. You’d choke on it. You’d ride it until your legs gave out and his stupid golden-retriever smile finally cracked into something desperate.

He pulled on fresh boxer-briefs, then basketball shorts, then a ratty tee. Secured the beast with one last resigned adjustment. Scoffed. “Fucking traitor.”

Then he grabbed his earbuds, his phone, and headed out—because of course this overgrown puppy went jogging at 5 a.m. like it was normal.

The front door clicked shut.

Silence.

You crawled out from under the bed on shaking limbs, skin fever-hot, pussy throbbing so hard it hurt. The only image burned into your brain was that thick, flushed length bobbing free, the way it twitched when he touched it, the sheer size of him.

You pressed your thighs together, a soft, needy whimper escaping your throat.

You were hungrier than ever.

Not just for energy anymore.

For him.

All of him.

You weren’t sure you could wait much longer before you stopped pretending this was just about feeding.

A few hours later, the front door swung open with the familiar jingle of keys, and Caleb barreled in humming—loud, off-key, gloriously unselfconscious.

“I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE! YOU OTHER BROTHERS CAN’T DENY—”

He froze mid-verse when he spotted you leaning in the kitchen doorway.

You’d chosen the outfit with surgical precision— one of his old band tees you’d “borrowed” (permanently), the neckline sliced so wide it slipped off one shoulder and barely contained your cleavage. Underneath? Just black lace panties that rode high on your hips. Bare legs, bare feet, hair mussed like you’d just rolled out of bed (you hadn’t). You looked like sin wrapped in domestic comfort.

Caleb blinked once. Twice. Then his face split into that blinding, brainless grin.

“Yo! Morning, roomie!”

Your gaze dropped immediately to the constellation of purple bruises blooming across the side of his neck—your handiwork from last night. Perfect little oval marks where your lips had latched on. You bit the inside of your lip so hard you tasted copper, thighs pressing together under the hem of the shirt.

“Morning, Leb,” you murmured, voice softer than you meant it to be.

His eyes lit up like Christmas lights. “Leb?! Awww, that’s so cute! You gave me a nickname!” Without warning he scooped you up—hands under your thighs, effortless, like you weighed as much as one of his protein tubs—and spun you in a lazy circle. “You deserve one too! Hmm… how about… pipsqueak! Yes! Suits you perfect!”

He set you down gently, ruffling your hair with enough force to make you squeak. “You’re so smol compared to me lol. Pipsqueak!”

You watched, half-dazed, as he bounded over to the stove to flip the pancakes already sizzling there. He kept talking over his shoulder, completely unbothered by your state of undress, by the way the shirt rode up every time you shifted.

“Yo, pipsqueak, don’t you think we’ve been having a ton of mosquitoes lately?” He sighed dramatically, gesturing at his neck with the spatula. “Look at this! They were eating me alive last night. Are you okay? Did they bite you too?”

You nearly choked on the sip of water you’d just taken. Coughed. Wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. A faint, traitorous blush crept up your cheeks—hot and unfamiliar.

You shook your head quickly. “Nope. Not a single bite.”

He nodded solemnly, like this was a serious public health crisis. “Good. Gotta get some bug spray or something. Can’t have my favorite roommate getting nommed on.”

Favorite roommate.

The words landed like a punch to the sternum. Soft. Warm. Stupidly sincere.

You hated how much you liked it.

Before you could spiral too far, you reached into the fridge and pulled out the protein shake you’d attempted earlier—vanilla whey, a banana you’d mushed in with a fork, a splash of almond milk because you’d seen him do it once. It looked… lumpy. But you’d tried.

You held it out. “I made it. Well… tried. For you.”

Caleb turned so fast the spatula clattered against the pan.

His purple eyes—god, when did you start noticing they were purple?—went wide. Lower lip wobbled for half a second, like a kicked puppy who’d just been handed a whole steak.

“For… me?”

The look on his face hurt. Not in your stomach, not in the usual hungry way. Deeper. In the chest. Your demonic brain short-circuited trying to categorize it—lust? Possession? Food?—but your heart knew exactly what it was, and it was terrifying.

You nodded, suddenly shy. “Yeah. For you. It’s not… as good as yours, but… figured you might like it.”

He snatched the shaker bottle like it was made of gold, popped the lid, and chugged the entire thing in four long pulls. You couldn’t look away from the way his throat worked—Adam’s apple bobbing, thick and prominent, veins standing out under golden skin. Sexy in a way that had nothing to do with feeding and everything to do with wanting to press your mouth there and feel it move.

He slammed the empty bottle down. “Woah! It’s good!!! You’re so sweet, pipsqueak!!”

Before you could process, he lifted you again—this time into a full bear hug, arms wrapping around your back, crushing you against the solid wall of his chest. Warm. Safe. Smelling like clean sweat and that maddening sunshine scent.

For the first time in… ever… you giggled.

Actual, breathless giggles.

Your arms looped around his neck instinctively. You nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder, cheek pressed to warm skin, inhaling him like he was oxygen. His heartbeat thumped steady and strong against your ribs.

Caleb’s breath hitched—just for a second. A tiny, startled sound.

Then his big hand settled on the back of your head, petting gently through your hair. Slow strokes. Careful. Like he was afraid he’d break you.

He set you down slowly. When you looked up, his cheeks were flushed pink—high on his cheekbones, creeping down his neck to join the hickeys you’d left.

He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “Uh… yeah. That was… nice.”

You smirked, slow and knowing.

Finally.

Something was working.

The way into his heart wasn’t filthy whispers or barely-there lingerie.

It was— affection returned for affection. A lumpy protein shake. A stupid nickname. Letting him spin you like you were weightless and precious.

You could still feel the gnawing hunger under your skin—the need to feed, to take, to drain him until he was empty and smiling about it.

But for the first time, the hunger didn’t feel like the only thing that mattered.

You leaned up on your toes, pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the underside of his jaw—right over one of your own marks.

“Pancakes ready yet, big guy?”

He swallowed hard. Nodded once. Voice a little rougher than usual.

“Yeah. Yeah, pipsqueak. Almost.”

When he turned back to the stove, shoulders tense, ears still pink, you let yourself smile—small, secret, almost tender.

Maybe evil succubi could learn new tricks after all.

For the next few days, your “sharingans”—as you’d started calling the little demonic glint in your eye whenever you caught him looking— were finally, gloriously working.

Caleb hadn’t changed—he was still the same big, dumb, sunshine-puppy version of himself— waking up at dawn to jog, humming anime openings while he blended protein shakes, texting you gym selfies with captions like “new PR on deadlifts 💪 who’s proud of me??” —you always replied with a string of fire emojis and a single drooling one he never questioned.

But you? You were changing. Or at least, the game was.

You started waking up earlier just to beat him to the kitchen. You’d stand on a step-stool to reach the oat flour —because of course he kept it on the top shelf like a giant, wearing nothing but sleep shorts and one of his hoodies that swallowed you whole. You’d crack eggs, flip pancakes, burn the bacon just a little so he could swoop in and “rescue” it with that proud grin. “Look at you go, pipsqueak! Teamwork makes the dream work!”

He’d bump your hip with his playfully. You’d bump back harder. He’d laugh like it was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Afternoons became “workout time.” You’d ask him—innocently, sweetly—to teach you proper form. Squats first. He’d stand behind you, hands ghosting over your hips to “correct” your stance.

“Like this, see? Keep your chest up, ass back—”

You’d drop low, slow, deliberate, then push back up with a soft, breathy moan that had nothing to do with effort.

His hands froze on your waist. You glanced over your shoulder, lashes fluttering.

“Feels… so good when you guide me, Leb.”

His ears went nuclear red. “Y-yeah? Cool. Uh. Good job. Ten more.”

You did ten more. Each one came with a little whimper, a little arch. By the end he was stuttering through counts and looking anywhere but at your ass.

Stretching was worse—or better, depending on how depraved you were feeling that day.

You’d lie on the yoga mat he’d dug out of the closet —“I used it once for foam rolling, bro, it’s basically new”, legs spread in a straddle. He’d kneel between them to help push your chest toward the floor.

“Deeper, pipsqueak. Breathe out—”

You exhaled slow, dramatic, letting your back arch and your hips roll just enough that your ass brushed the front of his shorts.

A soft, filthy moan slipped out. “Mmmh… right there… yes, Leb, fuck—deeper…”

He made a strangled noise. His grip on your thighs tightened, then loosened like he’d been electrocuted. Face scarlet, breathing uneven.

“Uh… yeah. That’s… good stretch. You’re doing great.”

Afterward you’d collapse onto your stomach, groaning theatrically.

“Ughhh my shoulders are killing me. Everything hurts.”

Like clockwork, he’d drop to his knees beside you. “Want a massage? I’m pretty good at them. Used to do it for the team after practice.”

You rolled onto your back first—just to watch his eyes flick down to where your shirt had ridden up, exposing the soft undercurve of your breasts—then flipped over again, presenting your back like a gift.

His hands were massive. Warm, calloused from barbells and life. He started at your shoulders, thumbs digging in with careful pressure.

You let your eyes flutter shut, let the first moan roll out low and needy.

“Mmmhhh… Leb… so good… ahhh yes, right there… yes yes oh~”

He froze for half a second,then pressed harder, like he could knead the sound out of you. His voice came out rougher than usual. “Yeah… yeah, pipsqueak…”

You arched your back, pushing your hips up just enough that your ass grazed his crotch.

He sucked in a breath. You felt him—thick, hot, straining against the thin fabric of his gym shorts—twitch against you.

You grinned into the mat, naughty and triumphant, leaning back further, grinding slow, deliberate.

His hands slid down,big palms gliding over your waist, thumbs brushing the sides of your ribs, creeping higher—dangerously close to the swell of your breasts, but never quite cupping them, teetering on the edge.

A breathless sigh escaped him. You could feel the tremor in his fingers. The hard length of him pressed firmer against your lower back now, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

He was finally aware. Not just blushing. Aware.

But he still didn’t cross the line.

That afternoon it got too hot—too close.

You were on your knees this time, back to his chest, his hands working the knots out of your lower back while you rocked subtly against him. Every roll of your hips dragged a low groan from your throat. His breathing turned ragged. His grip turned desperate.

Then—suddenly—he pulled away.

Hands gone. Body gone. Just cold air where his warmth had been.

You twisted around, confused.

Caleb was sitting back on his heels, looking down at the mat like it had personally betrayed him. Face flushed crimson. Massive bulge still obscenely obvious in his shorts, tenting so hard the fabric looked ready to split. Throbbing visibly.

He wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“…Pipsqueak…” His voice cracked. Small. “I think… you’re too good for me. Way outta my league.”

The words hit like ice water.

You stared at him—really stared. At the way his shoulders hunched. At the kicked-puppy droop of his mouth. At how his hands flexed and unflexed like he didn’t know what to do with them. At the way he was still hard, still aching, but refusing to take what was being offered on a silver platter.

Something cracked open in your chest again. Wider this time.

You crawled forward on your knees until you were right in front of him. Reaching out you tipped his chin up with two fingers so he had to look at you.

“Leb,” you said softly. No purr, no seduction, just quiet. “You’re an idiot.”

His purple eyes went wide, confused. Hopeful?

You leaned in. Pressing your forehead to his, breathing him in—sweat, soap, that golden summer scent that had ruined you from day one.

“I’m not too good for you,” you whispered. “I’m the worst thing that could ever happen to you. And I still want you. All of you. Every stupid, sweet, oversized inch.”

His breath hitched again, louder this time.

You pulled back just enough to smirk—small, real, almost tender.

“But if you’re gonna keep being a gentleman… I guess I’ll just have to keep wearing you down until you break.”

You stood up slowly, licking your lips with deliberate slowness, and let the glamour shatter like glass under moonlight.

One second you were still pipsqueak—soft curves wrapped in his oversized shirt, teasing smile, human enough to pass. The next, the air around you rippled, heat blooming off your skin as horns curled upward from your forehead in elegant black spirals, glossy and sharp. A long, sinuous tail unfurled behind you, spade-tipped and swaying with predatory grace. Your eyes bled from warm brown to molten crimson, pupils slitting vertical like a cat’s in the dark. The shirt dissolved into wisps of shadow; in its place clung tight, glossy black latex—barely-there straps and panels that hugged every sinful curve, leaving your breasts spilling over the top, nipples hard and obvious beneath the thin material, the thong so high-cut it framed your hips like a frame around a masterpiece.

Caleb’s eyes went wide. Breath hitching so hard it sounded painful. Mouth falling open in a perfect O of shock, fear, confusion, and something darker flickering underneath.

You purred—low, velvet, dripping with promise—and dragged your long, dark nails down the sides of your body, tracing the latex, letting it creak softly under your touch.

“See?” you murmured, voice deeper now, richer, threaded with the echo of something ancient. “I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, Leb.”

You giggled—the same light, bubbly sound he’d heard a hundred times over protein shakes and bad movie nights. The familiarity of it made his knees buckle.

He gulped, eyes darting frantically: your face, the curling horns, the flicking tail, back to your face. Finally the word scraped out of his throat.

“You’re… you’re…”

“A demon,” you finished for him, grin stretching too wide, fangs glinting sharp and pearlescent. You batted your lashes, slow and mocking. “Succubus. And I’m going to eat you.”

Caleb dropped to his knees like his strings had been cut. Hands clasped in front of him, eyes huge and glassy, already spilling over with that kicked-puppy desperation he wore so well.

“Oh no please don’t eat me,” he whimpered, voice cracking into broken little sobs. “I’m not tasty I promise! Please… I don’t wanna die…”

Your chest tightened again—sharp, unwelcome, almost painful. You smirked through it, leaning down until your cleavage hovered inches from his face. Tilted his chin up with one clawed finger. His gaze locked immediately on the deep valley between your breasts; cheeks flamed crimson.

“Awww, don’t worry baby,” you cooed, thumb brushing his trembling lower lip. “You are tasty, I promise. But… I’m not gonna eat you like that.” You winked, slow and filthy. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

He blinked up at you, lower lip still wobbling. “That way? What—”

You leaned closer, breath ghosting over his ear. “I’m going to fuck you raw, baby~”

He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Just a soft, strangled sound. His eyes were wild—fear and arousal crashing together so hard you could practically taste it rolling off him in waves. His dick twitched visibly in his shorts, thick and insistent, already leaking a dark spot against the fabric.

You purred again, pleased. “You’re gonna be a good boy and let me eat, right baby?~”

Your claws hooked the waistband of his shorts. One sharp tug and they were down around his thighs. He squeaked—high and startled—then felt the world tilt as you shoved him backward. His back hit the mattress with a soft whump. He didn’t know if it was magic or just the sheer force of your want, but God help him, he didn’t care.

“Pipsqueak?” he breathed, face burning scarlet, voice wrecked. His cock sprang free—huge, flushed, leaking steadily at the tip, veins standing proud. “It’s… it’s too big… it’s ugly… you can’t take it—”

“Shhhh, baby…”

You silenced him with your mouth on his. Soft at first—then deeper, hungrier. His lips parted on a gasp and you plunged your tongue inside, tasting him: clean sweat, protein-shake sweetness, and that golden rush of pure life energy that made your whole body hum. A low groan vibrated in your throat. You kissed him harder, filthy and claiming, tongues tangling in a dangerous, wet slide.

When you pulled back a glistening string of saliva connected your lips. You grinned down at him, dark eyes glittering with mischief.

“Oh baby, my Leb~” you purred, wrapping one hand around his shaft. “You’ve got no idea how much I can take.”

You pumped him once. Twice. Slow. Deliberate. Watching his face crumple into shameless pleasure, fingers clawing at the sheets.

Before he could stammer out another protest, you sank down.

One smooth, greedy swallow—taking him to the base in a single glide. Your nose buried in the soft brown curls at his groin. Throat stretching around the impossible girth. Eyes rolling back in bliss as the thick length filled your mouth, your throat, pulsed hot against your tongue.

Caleb choked on his own spit. Head slamming back against the pillow. “Ah—fuck—!”

You groaned around him, the vibration ripping straight up his spine. Pulled halfway off—slow, torturous—then swallowed him back down to the root. Again. And again. Bobbing your head with wet, obscene sounds, fingers rolling his heavy balls, massaging, tugging gently.

He couldn’t take it.

His hands flew to your horns—gripping tight, instinctive, desperate. Then he thrusted.

Whole length slamming down your throat with a choked, broken moan. “Ahhhh fuck… so good… my whole dick—ahhh…”

Your eyes watered. Tears streaked down your cheeks. You gagged—loud, messy—but didn’t pull away. Just let him use you. Let him fuck your face with frantic, uneven thrusts, drunk on the heat and the slick and the way your throat fluttered around him like it was made for this.

He pulled out halfway—gasping, dazed—looked down at you with glassy, drunken eyes. Gripped your horns tighter.

Then thrusted back in.

Back and forth. Merciless. Chasing the wet heat of your mouth like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

You were choking. Gagging. Drool spilling down your chin, over his balls. And he didn’t even notice—too lost, too far gone in the pleasure you were giving him.

His hips stuttered. Breath coming in ragged sobs.

“Pipsqueak—fuck—I’m—gonna—”

You hummed around him—encouraging, hungry, victorious.

And just like that, the big dumb puppy finally broke.

He came with a guttural groan that rattled the windows—deep, broken, animal. Hot ropes of cum flooded your throat, thick and endless, and you swallowed every drop like it was nectar from the heavens. The taste exploded across your tongue—pure, golden life energy, richer than anything the frat boys ever gave you. Months of hollow hunger finally sated—your taste buds singing, your whole body thrumming with stolen vitality. You pulled off with a lewd, wet pop, strings of spit and cum connecting your swollen lips to his flushed tip. Gave the half-hard length a playful smack with your palm.

He whimpered—high, shattered, adorable.

“Fuck, you taste so good, Leb,” you rasped, licking your lips slow and deliberate. “So fucking good.”

You stood up on shaky legs, claws hooking the thin straps of your latex thong. One tug and it slithered down your thighs, pooling on the floor like spilled ink. Caleb’s drunken gaze snapped wide when he saw you straddle him again—saw you drag your soaked pussy along the slick head of his cock, coating him in your arousal.

His big hands flew to your hips instantly. Fingers digging into soft flesh, covering your waist completely, thumbs pressing into the dip above your ass.

“Wait—pipsqueak—it might hurt,” he panted, voice wrecked and earnest even now. “I don’t wanna hurt you… it’s too big—”

You smirked down at him, tail flicking playfully before it coiled tight around the thick base of his shaft like a living cock ring. He gasped—back arching off the mattress, head slamming back into the pillow.

“I’m a succubus, Leb,” you purred, sticking your tongue out with naughty mischief. “I know exactly how to take a dick.”

Then you sank down.

One long, slow, greedy slide.

He filled you to the absolute brim—stretching you open, pressing hot and heavy against your cervix until the air punched out of your lungs in a shameless moan. His own breath choked off in a strangled sound, eyes rolling back.

“Oh shit—ahhh fuck… yes… oh god yes!!”

You started bouncing—slow at first, then faster, wet slaps echoing in the room. Your tail stayed wrapped snug around his base, squeezing rhythmically, the spade tip teasing lower—nudging, circling, pressing against his tight hole.

“Mmmhhh… you like that, baby?” you gasped, grinding down hard. “You like that? Fuck…”

Caleb choked again—hands clamping your hips like a vice. He thrust up to meet you, slamming his full length inside with brutal force.

“Hnghhhhh~”

The obscene bulge appeared in your lower belly—thick outline of his cock visible under your skin. You stared down at it, utterly fucked-out and pleased, nails digging into his shoulders.

Then the tip of your tail breached him—sliding in slow, slick, curling just right.

Caleb yelped—sharp, surprised, hips jerking wildly.

You leaned down, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your tits flush to his heaving chest. Drunk on the stretch, on the heat, on him.

“Ahhh Leb… you’re so cute, baby… my baby… my Leb~” The words spilled out, soft and wrecked. “I love you, baby~”

Three words you’d never said to anyone—not in centuries. Not like this. Not when your body was finally full and your heart felt like it might burst from how alive it suddenly was.

You could feel his heartbeat hammering against your breasts—frantic, unsteady. His head was thrown back, babbling drunken nonsense: “Pipsqueak—fuck—too good—can’t—ahh—”

You rubbed the tip of your tail against his prostate—firm, deliberate circles.

His whole body seized.

Back arching off the bed in a perfect bow. Eyes rolling back until only white showed. A scream tore out of him—raw, broken—as he came like a fucking fountain. Pulse after pulse flooding deep inside you, hot and thick, overflowing until it leaked down your thighs.

His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise—even through demonic skin. Body jerking, shuddering, riding the aftershocks.

Then—quiet. Breathless.

He blinked up at you through tear-wet lashes, voice barely a whisper, cracked and reverent before he saw black.

“I… love you too… pipsqueak…”

—

—

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the blinds and warmed your skin. You groaned softly, stretching in the sheets, body heavy and languid. The bed felt too soft—too comfortable—and then the memories crashed in like a wave— the way you’d taken him, drained him deep, pulled more energy than you ever meant to. In the past, when you’d gone too far, the boys never woke up the same. Sometimes not at all.

“CALEB?!?”

You bolted upright, heart slamming against your ribs, panting hard. The spot beside you was empty. Sheets rumpled, pillow dented, but no golden-tanned muscle. No sleepy grin. No heartbeat thumping under your palm.

Panic clawed up your throat.

You looked down at your hands—smooth, human hands. No black claws. No crimson skin. Just soft fingers trembling in the morning light.

Heavy footsteps thumped down the hallway. Then Caleb appeared in the doorway—shirtless, a ridiculous “kiss the cook” apron tied haphazardly over his boxers, spatula in one hand, flour dusting his cheek like war paint. Hickeys and bite marks bloomed across his neck and chest in vivid purple, but he looked… fine. More than fine. Radiating that same dumb, sunny energy.

“Yes, pipsqueak?” he asked, tilting his head, concern creasing his brow.

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then scrambled off the bed and stumbled to the full-length mirror on the closet door. Still naked and trembling.

You stared.

No horns. No tail. No wings tucked beneath glamour. Just you—human you. Skin warm and flushed, eyes the same soft color they’d been before the curse took hold thousands of years ago. You reached up, fingers brushing your forehead where the spirals used to curl. Nothing. You tried to summon them—forced the old shift—and nothing happened. They were gone. Not hidden. Gone forever.

Your eyes filled with tears so fast the room blurred.

You spun around. Caleb was still standing there, spatula forgotten, watching you with quiet worry.

“Leb…” Your voice cracked. “I’m… I’m finally free. I’m… not a demon anymore…”

The words tumbled out, small and broken. You didn’t even realize you were crying until hot tears spilled down your cheeks.

Caleb’s face softened. He dropped the spatula onto the dresser and crossed the room in two strides. You launched yourself at him—naked, shaking, desperate—and he caught you like always. Massive arms wrapped around your back, one hand cradling the nape of your neck, the other rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades.

He didn’t ask questions. Didn’t demand explanations. Just held you tighter, chin resting on top of your head, pressing soft kisses into your hair.

“Shhh, pipsqueak,” he murmured against your scalp. “I’ve got you.”

You buried your face in his chest, inhaling soap and flour and that warm, golden scent that had ruined you from the first day. Sobs shook your shoulders—ugly, relieved, centuries-old grief finally breaking free.

You’d forgotten. A thousand years under the curse, you’d forgotten the oldest part of the story— the succubus had been human once. A woman cursed to feed, to take, to be lusted but never be loved in return. Only true love—real, stupid, unconditional love—could lift it. Break the chains. Turn her mortal again.

You’d never believed it would happen. Never thought anyone could love the monster instead of the mask.

But Caleb had.

He’d loved your giggles over burnt pancakes. Your lumpy protein shakes. Your teasing. Your softness hidden under sharp edges. He’d never once hesitated—not when you were human-glamoured, not when you were horns-and-tail-and-all. He’d loved your soul first, and the body just came along for the ride.

That’s why he hadn’t flinched. Why he hadn’t run.

You clung to him harder, fingers digging into the broad planes of his back.

He kissed the top of your head again. Slow. Steady.

“Whatever you are, pipsqueak,” he whispered, voice thick with something tender and unshakable, “you’re still mine. Okay?”

You nodded against his chest, tears soaking into his skin.

“Okay.”

Something that felt suspiciously like home.

Your scent is quite enticing and addictive, he can almost taste you on his tongue. . It’s only been a mere few days since Caleb has licked himself in his house during his rut, embarrassingly struggling to quell that never ending desire his body has. Unfortunately for him, all of his previous efforts to keep you away and safe from this. . feral side of him was for nothing for managing to sneak your way into his home with no problem. 

The moment you enter his house, his scent is the first that greets you, it’s aggressive, pungent, practically enveloping you. The intensity of it coaxes your body to send a wave of heat through your body, warmth pooling to your abdomen. The once pristine state of Caleb’s house is tarnished, it’s a mess, furniture tossed and marked in scratches, shreds of clothes are littered on the floor and there’s a muffled. . lewd sounds that come from deeper into the house, his room.

The closer you get to Caleb’s room, the louder the obscure, wet squelching sounds, low whimpers, and breathless moans get. You don’t even need to push open the door to understand how suffocating his scent is, the smell of him leaks from his door. Quietly and slowly, you barely push open his door, knees going weak at the pathetic sight. 

The same pink, lacy panties that you’ve given up searching for, finally accepting that it was just lost, is held and pressed on his face, the inside of it is pressed against his nose as he sniffs and occasionally licks at the fabric while stroking his leaking and throbbing cock. Caleb is much bigger than remembered, perhaps it was the fact he’s in his rut. He’s thicker, fatter, and longer than before, cock heavy with blood, thin vein on the underside of his cock, red bulbous tip oozing fat beads of precum on his hand, balls pulsing and tensing with the desire to spill his cum somewhere. 

“Mmhp. . Hnng-! B- baby -fuck! Needa’. . ohgod” Caleb lets out a breathless whimper, laying his head against the sweat soaked pillow underneath his head. 

“Ne-need you sooo -ohfuck. . bad” he hiccups, squeezing his cock in his hands, pumping his drooling dick faster, the wet squelch intensifying.  

His cock violently throbs in the palm of his hand, more precum beads  from the top, trickling onto his length. He sniffs the air slowly, eyes snapping open once he catches the scent of you, stronger and less faded away. Caleb’s on you in an instant, slick hands greedily grabbing at your fat hips, tugging you into the intoxicating room, swollen lips already leaving kisses and love bites onto the sensitive skin of your neck. 

Once Caleb has quelled his rut, he’ll make sure his sweet mate is well fed and taken care of after doing such a wonderful job helping him endure his painful rut!

“Oooh. . - hnng. . fu- fuck-!” You sob loudly in a hoarse and whiney voice, nails digging into the soft fat of your thighs, tightly holding onto them as leverage, attempting not to squirm from the onslaught of the overwhelming pleasure. 

Plap Plap Plap. Caleb slams his hips into yours with a loud wet plap, hips flushed with yours and twitching cock buried deep in your sopping pussy. He grabs at your legs tightly to keep you still as he needy fucks your sensitive pussy in mating press, the veins on his arms are more visible from how tight his grip is, it wouldn’t be a surprise to see pretty bruises coated on your flesh afterwards. 

It feels like hours have passed since your boyfriend desperately clawed off your clothes, it has been hours already. Or perhaps it’s only been a mere thirty minutes . . your mind feels so empty yet fuzzy from mind numbing ecstasy, your vision is blurred from tears and dances with black spots. Your cunt is dripping and glistening in a mixture of yours and Caleb’s cum, clit puffy and swollen from how his thumb toys perfectly with it, a copious amount of his cum trickles down the fat of your ass, already soaking the sweat drenched sheets.

Your cry in pleasure into the soaked, torn up fabric underneath your body, weakly attempting to squirm from the overstimulation and the thick stretch of Caleb’s cock in your velvety walls.

“Mmhp-! Ju- just one more, baby. . p- promise!” Caleb whimpers through ragged breaths and moans, grip tightening on your poor thighs, keeping you still.

Just one more. . he’ll spew out through his haze of ecstasy. You know it’s a lie though, that doesn’t stop you from mindlessly nodding your head while gasping out, drool seeping from your parted lips. Caleb’s gone fully drunk on the way your warm pussy spasms and flutters around his fat cock, delirious on pleasure, completely oblivious to how his cock violently throbs in overstimulation.

“M- mine . . all mine” he mutters to himself possessively, angling his hips perfectly to where his cock massages your g-spot, eliciting a high pitch wail of pleasure from you, heightening the pleasure you're already experiencing. 

Caleb felt soo much bigger than before, the once painful stretch now makes you whimper and tear up from how delightfully full you feel, perhaps it was the rut that made your boyfriend swell up due to his natural instinct to breed. Through hooded eyes, you weakly peer down to your connected bodies, watching his cock reappear from your pussy, red and slick with your juices. Fat tears trickle down your sweaty cheeks, rolling down the flushed skin. 

“Hnng-! Fe- feels sooo good -mmhp. . c- can’t take. . anymore-!” You stutter between your loud moans, jaw agape as a string of quiet whimpers are ripped from you. 

“F- fucc. . s- save -fuck. . god! Sa- save mee!” You hiccup, tears clinging to your eyelash, back barely arching from off the bed as your gooey walls tighten around his dick. 

You’re starting to become lightheaded now, that familiar knot in your stomach twists and tightens with each and every passing second that’s filled with pleasure, it’s overwhelmingly good. A particularly harsh thrush prompts you to roll your eyes back, tongue lolling out while you pant, you looked so pretty like this. Purely fucked out.

Caleb’s pretty mate . . worried about him while he’s in his rut, coming over to make his rut pass quicker, letting him fill your raw hole in thick cum. 

Caleb takes the opportunity to let a stream of spit fall into your mouth, moaning in approval. The action was sacred for him, another way of claiming you as his mate, and only his. Every fiber of your being aches and is sore from having done this for several hours, body begging for a break from the mind numbing pleasure. 

Through glistening eyes, clouded eyes drink up the sight of the countless marks on your neck, opting to lean close to your body in order to bite more at your marked up flesh, earning himself a mewl. 

“Hnng waaah-! Mmmhp. . g- gonna. .” You can barely manage out what you were going to say, only incoherent babbles are able to be produced from you. 

You squeal out loudly, jaw going slack, tightening around him, pussy gushing around his cock for the nth time in the night. He moans out when he feels your slick walls hug him so perfectly, somehow going even faster, the break creaking in disapproval. The bed is shaking from how hard and fast Caleb’s thrusts are, you swore you heard the giant sounds of wood breaking. 

“Hnng-! L- leb’! Th- the bed. .” You manage out between your moans.

“Yo- you’re gonna - haaah. . gonna b- break it again-!” You squeal, teeth catching your bottom lip. 

“I- I know. . iknowiknowiknow. . mmmhp!” Caleb groans into the skin of your neck, drooling seeping from his lips, dripping onto the burning skin of your flesh. 

It didn’t seem like he was paying attention to what you said. . not that you can really lecture him when you’re being fucked soo well. 

“Ilove. . iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou, b- baby!” He rambles, hips smashing into yours loudly, cock throbbing and twitching inside your white walls. 

Caleb slams his hips into yours in a mere second, dumbly sucking on your slick neck, forming new bruises that will bloom to be beautiful. He grinds his hips against yours twice, bulbous tip practically kissing your poor cervix, ribbons of warm cum shooting deep into your cunt again, his excess cum trickling down the curve of your ass, making an even larger mess. You feel soo full.

“Mmhp. . Hnng. .” You pant, hands finding his back as he slurps at your neck desperately. 

“Haah. . j- just one more. .” Caleb sighs into your neck, grinding himself into you again, burying his cum deeper into your sensitive cunt. 

“I promise. . ne- need’s make sure. . you g- get. .” He doesn’t even try to finish his sentence, hips already moving again, slow yet deep thrusts that make you cry out. 

You can only let out a tired moan yet satisfied moan, opting to let your sweet boyfriend attempt to breed you full with a fucked out smile on your face.

ִֶָ☾. All work belongs to only jadestone2. Translating, plagiarism, posting on another website, claiming as your work, feeding to AI will NOT be tolerated, instant block ཀ ⛥ ༝

You lean against the door frame to his study to find a heavenly sight you can cum from alone. Caleb’s head is leaning back on his chair, shirt abandoned on the floor while his pants and boxers pool around his ankles, too desperate to have been taken off completely.

One of your lace panties, his favourite one— the red one with a cute apple trinket dangling from the waistband— is held tight in his fist to his face, wet pink tongue slopping up what remains of your slick juices from the day before. The other, a black pair that he slipped aside to pound you raw a few days ago, is wrapped around the base with the embroidered crotch rubbing his sobbing slit.

He’s panting, drooling, making a huge mess while he babbles about how much he loves you. “Looked so pretty this morning, couldn’t wait— ffuccck, need that pretty pussy—“ you can feel yourself leaking into your shorts, so damn short your ass is peeking out. 

His thick cock is soaked in white, a testament to his previous orgasms, swollen with overstimulation to the point where his seed just spills from his slit uncontrollably adding to the puddle beneath his throbbing balls. There’s splatters of white stained on his sculpted abs, his sharp collarbone, the muscles of his chest, his perked nipples, fuck, even his chin has a bit of damage.

“Taste so good,” He groans into the fabric and snorts your scent, pushing the flimsy lace as close to his face as possible. It’s like your scent is an aphrodisiac, pushing him deeper into a spiral to fist his cock harder at a cruel pace, squeezing so hard his hips start bucking up to fuck his hand like it’s a pussy. Your pussy.

Your hand sneaks down the waistband of your shorts on its own, meeting with your clit to rub it in slow, torturous circles. Thank fuck you decided to abandon wearing underwear today— well, that and he technically stole most of them, saying he’d “get them washed tomorrow.” Fucking liar.

Caleb’s getting closer, you can tell. His jaw is slack, tongue lolling out to whimper your name like he’s trying to summon you. His hands are moving sloppy, inconsistent with the rhythm just chasing pleasure. Those pretty sunset eyes keep threatening to roll back as overstimulated tears begin to fill his gaze.

A short moan slips through your lips as your fingers creep up your soaked cunt, snapping his eyes open at the melodic noise. “Nghh– there you are.”

His hands are still at work, pressing your used thong up his nose and the other sliding up and down his length like it’s a normal Tuesday. “Look at you, fingerin’ yourself like a perv while watching.” You watch him tighten his grip around his shaft, beads of cum spilling down the veins like tears. “Was wonderin’ when you’d come.”

“Speak for yourself.” You slip your shorts down slowly, turning around to give him a clear view of your plump ass, the strings of slick connecting your soaked, swollen lips to the fabric. Caleb groans deep and guttural, stroking himself faster, schlick schlick schlick filling the room. “You left the door open for me to find you ruining my panties. Again.”

“You love it.” 

You shrug, making your way to him while your hips sway left and right to entice him in a lust-drowned trance. “Such a shame you like fucking my underwear more than my cunt.” You dramatically sigh, running your fingers along your soaked core. They’re sticky and glistening with your juices, practically calling Caleb to have a taste.

“It tastes so much better when it’s fresh from the source.”

Oh, he is so easy to sway when you use the right leverage. With one more lick, Caleb tosses both lacy pieces aside like flimsy props. “C’mere then, pips. ‘ve been waiting for that sweet pussy.”

Straddling him without wasting time, you press his cock between your folds, grinding back and forth, smothering him in your heat and wetness. “Could’ve put that cum in me,” You grumble as white coats your coarse hairs. You grind his fat cockhead through your puffy lips until is glistening, covered in slick. “I could’ve kept it nice and hot inside.”

“Got lots more to give, baby.” Caleb presses hot kisses on your neck, dragging his tongue along your jaw. “That was just a warm up.”

His hands grip your hips nice and tight as he guides you down, slowly inch by devastatingly thick inch until you’re fully bottomed out, grinding your pretty fatty ass against his balls. Your greedy cunt pulses around him as you both curse loud into the air.

“That’s it.” He groans with a smile spreading on his lips, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “Missed this. Missed you choking my cock.”

“I haven’t been gone that long.” You pout, trying to move your hips or thighs, anything to feel him but his grip is so damn strong you’re stuck warming him up. Glancing down, you moan at the sight of his cock bulging gently through your tummy.

Caleb presses his palm hard on the print, rocking his hips to make you feel him. “You’ve been gone long enough.” His hips roll into you like waves, grinding nice ’n slow and brushing your swollen clit against his pelvis. “Need to show you how much I missed you.”

He lifts you up just until his tip is trapped in your suctioning cunt and slams you down hard. Your tits jiggle without restraint, going up and down and colliding together as he bounces you up and down on his cock. 

“You’re so deep.” You pant, drool dribbling off your tongue to your chin.

“I can do even deeper.” Caleb’s grip on you is so hard you can feel the bruises forming already. Hell, his hickeys have barely healed yet, spots of purple, red, and green staining his neck, arms, and torso like constellations. “ ‘m going to need your help, yeah?”

You brace yourself, holding his muscular sweat-soaked shoulders to use you knees to bounce harder, clapping your ass hard on his thighs in a fast, wet rhythm. His hands are moving around you like a snake, one twisting your nipples and tugging one into his mouth to suck and lick while the other slams on your ass, groping and squeezing as you use his cock like a toy.

“Mmhn— fuckin’ love these.” He moans, sliding his tongue around your areola and sucking bruise after bruise into your flesh. His muscles are shining in a layer of sweat, keeping you close enough to bury himself between your mounds and motorboat you, tongue out slobbering your skin. “Yer pussy’s so sloppy— ahh— you hear how she’s squelchin’ and slobbering up my cock?”

The chair’s creaking beneath you, sliding on its wheels until you hit the wall behind you, still fucking without a care in the world. “So wet she’s drippin’ on my balls.” Your thighs are shaking, almost sore from moving so much but you don't want to stop. “She keeps suckin’ me in, baby. Can’t even pull out.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” You gasp, growing breathless as you throw your head back. His length keeps hitting that sweet spot, rubbing that vein you love to lick at the same pace as he bucks into you wild like he’s in heat. “Want you to pump me full, nice and deep.”

Caleb shoots to his feet, half-carrying half=dragging you to the soft rug with him. He flips you on your hands and knees on the soft rug on the floor. You whine as your back instinctively arches, sweet cunt gaping and clenching on air.

“Floor’s much better.” Soft, wet kisses travel down your spine, reaching your ass to desecrate with his affection. He lines his tip with your cunt once more, reuniting you in a lewd swift thrust.

“Fuck!” Your cries rip right out your throat, only getting louder as he picks up his speed. The angle here is so much deeper, your cervix is being kissed— no, pounded by his mushroom tip every time he bottoms out in you, grinding his hips against your ass between each wet, sloppy thrust. 

Your vision flashes hot white, rolling your eyes halfway back into your skull. Your cream mixed with his pre squelches so obscenely between you, leaving out so much you can hear it splatter all over the floor.

His hand sneaks down to your clit, rubbing mean circles into it to hear you scream for him. “C’mon, pips. Need you to cum around me, need you to choke my cock. I need it— oh, so good— need you so bad, pips, please.”

All the words you try to ramble come out in mindless moans, whimpering “Caleb, Caleb!’ and “wanna cum so bad, cock’s so good—“, neither of you are thinking straight. The brutal rhythm of his hips smacking your ass, his balls slapping your clit as his fingers tease you, the combined wetness dripping down your thighs and the smell of sex and love just filling up the air all sends you into a frenzy.

Deep guttural moans turn your voices hoarse, coated with filthy praise and devotion to each other, hands clawing flesh, tongues and teeth clashing in sloppy kisses, and the delicious sting of your lovemaking build up that familiar tightness in your core. 

“ ‘m so close,” You whine, bucking your hips back to meet with his thrusts. “Gonna cum, ‘leb!”

“I’m there— oh, shit, I’m gonna fill you till you leak, gonna breed you so good—“

It’s more than enough to snap that tightly drawn coil, sending your back into the meanest, sluttiest arch. A mind-shattering wave brings you to orgasmic trembles, clamping your cunt down hard on his shaft. Your cries sound like heaven in his ears, driving his hips in frantic, short thrusts, breaking his rhythm to chase his climax.

With a loud moan of your name, his cock plunges deep into your cunt, swelling up and throbbing as fast as his pulse to spill ribbons and ribbons of hot, thick cum flood your walls, painting everything a milky white. Caleb collapses over, still rutting his cock as his seed spills into you. His hands keep rubbing your clit even after your orgasm, tensing your cunt to squeeze him till it hurts.

“Too much!” You whimper, trying to wiggle out of his grip. It’s too fucikin’ good to run away but it’s so much that your poor cunt can’t handle all that overstimulation.

“Just… a lil’ more…” His hips stutter, wet and slick from your combined juices leaking out of you, and tips you into another orgasm, clenching and shaking in his embrace.

You’re both gasping as you slow down, completely spent. Caleb wraps his arms around you, pressing weak kisses as far as he can reach, covering the expanse of your back and nape and jaw with his lips and praises.

“Please don’t confiscate my panty stealing privileges.” He pouts, gently grinding his half-hard cock up your cunt. “I promise I’ll only take one per day.”

“Maybe,” You hum, circling your ass back with just as much fervour. It’s enough for him to get rock hard once again, plugging you with his girth. “But you’ll have to show me why you deserve to keep ‘em.”

“Zayne!” 

He has such a moanable name. It almost tastes sweet just to say it. Zayne. Zayne. It’s becoming addictive, and you barely know him. He’s moaning shamelessly in your ear, gripping your hips like his life depends on it, fucking you so hard you bend over the sink.

“Pussy’s sucking me in,” He mouths the shell of your ear, slowly sliding his tongue up your skin. “I think I like seeing you wet.”

One hand reaches for your tits, tugging and pulling at your sensitive buds making you cry out from the stimulation. His cock’s ramming so deep into you that you can barely think without crossing your eyes while he fucks you dumb.

To be so honest, ending up like this didn’t take that long. You’ve got a knack for finding really good dick, it’s like a process that gradually builds up the tension just moments towards it snapping.

First it was his muscles that caught your eye. Then it was the unmistakable bulge straining against his slacks. Then it was the way he kept glancing at you as if he was failing to restrain himself and remain professional while he worked.

The first twenty minutes were pretty tame. You showed him every affected room and offered to give him the space he needs to get his work done. You did assume your thin tee and shorts weren’t a good idea to wear in front of a stranger so disappearing into your room looked like a smarter move.

“I might need you to see if my work is to your liking.” He had said. It’s not like anything would happen right?

Heh. Totally.

He was busy twisting pipe after pipe with those strong, scarred hands, diligently attentive to his work while you fought every urge you had to stuff your fingers into your cunt right behind him. That man is your type and more, how could you not want him to rearrange your guts?

He had called you over asking for your help. That ended up with you leaning over the sink with the tap on to see if anything would flow out. Zayne was kneeling down, twisting the pipes bit by bit, checking in every so often.

One wrong twist and your clean, dry set of clothes was soaked again. The only difference is that your hardened nipples were on full view for him to consume with hungry eyes. And the shameless boner between his legs told you his sentiments were the same.

And now he’s fucking you senseless with no goal other than to make you scream out his name.

He stuffs his fingers in your mouth, pushing back and forth making you gag around him. Your core is on fire, thighs trembling and sensitive from two of your holes being filled. You wrap your lips around his digits and suck, swirling your tongue between each one, tasting your juices right on your tastebuds.

It’s too good not to clench your walls tight around his shaft. Zayne can feel your walls fluttering around him like butterflies squeezing and jerking his cock closer to his release. His sacks are tight, sorely begging to release the load brimming right at his cockhead as it kisses bruises onto your cervix.

“Gonna cum.” He groans, licking a wet stripe of saliva across your jaw. “Gonna stuff this pussy full, okay?”

Rhetorical or not, you frantically nod with a dazed smile, leaning into his touch and bucking your hips back to meet each thrust. His cock slides in deep and fast, probing through your every sensitive nerve again and again until you finally tip over the edge, vision going hot white.

Your knees give out completely as a silent cry escapes your lips. Your juices froth up from him fucking you through your orgasm, marking creamy rings around the base of his thick cock and mixing into his trimmed hairs.

Zayne slithers his hand down to your swollen clit and rubs mean circles into your poor nub of nerves, shooting shocks of pleasure right up your spine. “Z-Zayne! Too much!”

“Not even close to being enough.” He corrects, slowly pulling his cock right out of your cunt to slap the underside right on your ass. He rubs your cum and his pre all over your skin, still leaking like a faucet from his slit. “Fixing these pipes will take a lot of work.” He slides his cock between your cheeks and moves up and down, squeezing them together with both hands. “I’ll need you to work this pipe so I can do my job right.”

All you can muster is a weak whimper, partly grateful he’s giving you a break and partly frustrated that he’s teasing you. Your hole is gaping and clenching on air, spurting out your slick honey dripping and splatting onto the wet floor. Hasn’t she gotten enough? 

“You can do that for me, right?” He coos, pressing wet kisses up your spine, tugging your skimpy top higher and higher to taste your sweaty skin.

“Yeah— mmh fuck— yeah, I will,” You pant, grinding your ass into him, impatiently trying to manoeuvre his cock back into you. “Just put it back in.”

“What, you want me to stuff you full again?” Zayne feigns shock, cupping his hand over your weeping cunt. He slowly pulls away only to lightly spank it, delighting in the lewd squelches it makes. Your folds are swollen, practically hugging his fingers as they slide through the wet expanse of your pussy, ghosting over your clit before stuffing your hole.

“You know you want to.” You pant, bucking your ass back and forth. Fuck, his cock is so hot and heavy! How does he hold back so well? “I can feel you dripping on me. ’s just you and me here, don’t hold back. Fuck me.”

And that just does it.

He slams in quick, leaving you no space to even think before the first thing on your mind is his cock disappearing deep into your cunt. “So fucking greedy.” His voice is muffled in your shoulder as his hips piston in and out of you, barely pulling out his fat mushroom tip before diving back in to kiss your cervix.

His hands are tugging you closer and closer like he wants to be melded into you. The sheer force of his pounding forces your back into a delicious arch, giving him such a better angle to fuck your cunt raw. 

“Such a greedy cunt for a greedy girl.” You’re half-moaning half-crying at his words, incomprehensibly agreeing. You are greedy. You deserve to be. It’s been so long since you’ve been dicked down this good, why wouldn’t you want more of it? “Busy swallowing me whole, tightening up to keep me deep inside you. ’s like you want me to stuff you like a pie.”

You’re nodding like a bobble head, scalding tears flowing from your eyes as your throat goes hoarse from all your moaning and screaming. His hands curve up from your waist to squeeze and fondle your tits, torturing your nipples as his heavy cum-filled sacks slap your clit.

His cheek is pressed right next to yours, gaze heavy-lidded watching your fat mounds bounce in the hold of his palms, catching huge drops of your tears and drool as he squeezes them into a slutty cleavage. 

“I do!” You whine, shameless and desperate. “Oh fuck! Stuff me full, please, please, please!”

All you really have to do is ask nicely to get Zayne to do whatever you want. He pushes his cock as deep as it can go in a brutal thrust, his heavy balls twitching as his hips go sloppy. 

Your cunt chokes him just too tight, making him stiffen with one final thrust, his cock erupting in thick, hot ribbons, filling you up from your cervix, painting you full of his seed to the brim. You grind your ass deeper, clenching around his girth so tight it overflows and splatters onto your thighs, your ass, and the floor.

Zayne wraps his hand around your jaw, tilting your head up into a hot, wet kiss, tongues dancing and teeth clashing through the shocks of your climax. Your fingers curl around his muscular forearm, dragging your sharp nails gently across his skin, leaning into his embrace.

“Was that the working you needed?” You ask in a sultry tone. Zayne’s lips curve into a small smile as he brushes his thumb on your lower lip.

Something about how it’s glistening with sweat and spit just makes his softening cock twitch back to life inside you. He rubs the pad of his thumb around your mouth, circling closer and closer for your lips to part just enough for him to push his digit in. 

“No,” He says, voice thick with lust. “We’re not done yet.”

He slips out of you fast, gently turning you around to push you to your knees. Your clit is getting hypersensitive, your pussy lips puffy and swollen so much that any friction between your thighs can make you quiver and throb.

Zayne slowly pumps his cock, stroking a thick vein with his thumb as his cock springs above you, dripping his creamy juices right on your face. “Clean up your mess.”

Gingerly wrapping your hand around his shaft, you press his leaky tip on your lips until they’re coated in pre. You suck around his mushroom tip, lips stretching around him as your tongue flicks up and down his leaky slit.

“Juuust like that.” Zayne moans, tossing his head back while you work him with your mouth. Your hands twist and stroke what your lips haven’t reached yet, using your mixed juices as lube to move fast and slick while your slurp up his pre.

The taste is addictive, spreading across your tongue like a taste of something you can’t forget. You hollow your cheeks, sucking harshly at his tip, moving your tongue to the underside of his cock to tease and pump more pre down your throat. 

“Go…fuck. Go deeper.” He pants through gritted teeth. Just you suckling his tip like that is enough to make him bust instantly. He bucks his hips forward, fisting your hair and pushing you further down his shaft. “You can take more than that.”

Your throat tightens as his cockhead taps your uvula, slowly gathering thick spit to slick up his length for you to suck. Loud, wet glurks echo around the kitchen, partly muffled by the squelches of your fingers stuffing your clenched cunt. 

It’s all so fucking lewd, you just have to give your poor pussy the attention she needs. It almost hurts to leave her alone, clenching on air to keep his cum inside you.

He feeds more inches into your mouth, watching you bob your head back and forth, throat fully opened up to take him in deep. His lower lip is trapped between his teeth, curving into a smirk. You look so sexy in this angle, eyes brimming with tears, lips stretched wide to accommodate for his size, and a mix of your own spit and his pre bubbling a the corners of your lips… he might as well just stuff himself deep into your throat.

But you beat him to it. 

Growing impatient with slowly easing your way in, you relax your jaw and take in as much air as you can through your nose before slurping all of him till your nostrils brush against his trimmed pubes. 

“Oh… gods.” Zayne’s eyes roll back as his hands securely grip your head to keep you in place. Your throat’s so hot and tight, flexing around his cock like a reflex to trap him there. “Take it. Take my cock like a good girl.”

He pulls out like it burns to stay any longer, his tip leaving your lips with a pop, hands still holding your head in place for him to slide back in. His hips roll into your mouth in a broken rhythm, frothing up his pre all over your face, covering even your lashes in webs of white, stringy arousal. 

Your hand grips his thigh to stay in place while he fucks your face relentlessly, the other still stuffing your cunt with as many fingers as it can take, spilling droplets of cum into your palm. It’s getting so messy and filthy that you forget about the mess he’s making on your face.

Strings of saliva and cum drip down your chin, landing on your bouncing tits, trickling down from your pebbled nipples to add onto the mess beneath you. Bubbles foam out from your lips every time he pulls back, spilling globs of your spit down to his heavy sacks as they smack your chin with each thrust.

Zayne’s babbling praises to you as he fucks your throat so incoherently you can barely get anything outside of how good you’re being and how close he is to spilling his load. Your cunt throbs at the thought, tightening in warning to cum hard around your fingers.

You’re quickly pushed away just as his shaft twitches and throbs violently over your tongue. Panting and gulping for air, you watch him squeeze his cock tight at the base until it turns an angry red, holding back the cum literally dripping out his slit.

“So good for me,” He grins in a daze, sliding his shaft up and down your cheek, lathering your skin in his juices. “Got me losing my grip just from seeing your wet tits.” The friction alone makes him groan, feeling his own body threaten to collapse from the pleasure. 

He slides himself across your face, patting his tip on your kiss-swollen lips, connecting a string of cum between you and him. It takes him squeezing his base harder to stop himself from cumming when you slide your tongue to taste him.

“Taste soo good.” You slur, lips smacking together as you speak. “Wanna taste more cum.”

It’s too much for him, too much for you. You grab his shaft and stick his tip in, pushing it to your cheek until his print sticks out from the side. You trace the singular vein traveling up his shaft with your tongue, almost tasting his pulse throbbing through it.

Swallowing the groan building up, Zayne guides your head to take his cock deeper, deepthroating him in swift thrusts while you squeeze and fondle his sacks, kneading them like you’re milking out every single drop. The stickiness and wetness push his eyes rolling back into his skull as he shoots a heavy, thick load down your throat in near-endless ropes. Your cheeks swell from the rate that he pumps you with his cum, choking you mid-gulp while he fucks your throat through his climax. 

“So good,” It’s like he’s a broken record, moaning your name loud enough for the neighbours to hear. “So fuckin good!”

There’s just so much, you can’t keep up. Drops of cum and spit gargle out your mouth and bubbling out of your nostrils as your eyes cross over, feeling so filled that your pussy spasms around your fingers. Your muffled moans, shoot vibrations right into him sending another load down your throat in thick, steamy waves. 

Just as you pull away, too full of his cum, Zayne’s calloused hand grips your jaw, gently guiding your gaze to his. “Swallow.”

Scooping up whatever spilled onto your chest, you swallow as much as you can with a saccharine grin, and lick the excess from your fingers. “Good.” Leaning down, Zayne plants a heavy, overwhelming kiss on your lips, cradling your face in his hands as he lowers himself to hold you.

“Still need that pipe fixed.” You whisper on his lips, peeling your eyes open to glance at the kitchen sink. You wrap your soaked fingers around him, stroking up and down, grazing your thumb over his slit. “Should probably get that cash ready.”

“Don’t worry about paying for the rest of this,” He murmurs between your wet kisses, lifting you into his arms for you to straddle him. He lowers you slowly, aligning his tip with your cunt once more. “It’s on the house.”