yes ma'am
Caleb Love and Deepspace Maintenance Man AU
<<< prev. incident #4 | incident #6 next >>>
summary: After hardly living in her apartment for the last six months, MC finds that it's practically falling apart at the seams. She'd been nagging her landlord to call the maintenance guy for even longer. Finally, he gives her his number so she can nag him instead. But, Caleb, the maintenance guy isn't some balding middle-aged guy. He's hot. Especially when he's fixing her stuff.
content warning: mutual masturbation, fluff, slight angst (?), mc uses vibrator, caleb listens outside the door (starting to think this is a theme in my writing), heavy teasing, and idk what else bc I'm bad at these :P (let me know if I missed anything)
author's note: I told you guys that I would repay you for the ending of the last one ;) I'm unfamiliar with writing actual smut scenes, so just bear with me until I get a feel for them lol. All I've done so far is mutual masturbation so I'm sorry if I disappoint.
I'm using this as practice to get more comfortable with writing in third person! Please feel free to comment any advice or improvements I could make. Liking and reposting is always greatly appreciated! More parts will be coming soon. Please enjoy!
Incident #5: the move
He didn’t think it would work.
Caleb thought that she’d find somewhere else to stay, but no. She actually accepted his offer. Let the next step of his plan commence.
There was no protocol for mold–Carl would never instate such a rule because it would cost him more money. In all truth, she would’ve been fine if she closed the door and swore to not go in that room until he got all of the affected parts out. He’d come up with the plan on their way back from the hardware store when thinking about how he could spend more time with her.
Here, now he had an indefinite amount of time with her huddled up in his apartment. He would get to see her in the morning when she woke up and before she laid down at night. If he’s lucky, he’ll get to see her in between too. And he couldn’t wait.
He didn’t expect her to come so willingly. Whenever she mentioned that she could ask the doctor if she could stay over at his place, there was no way that he was going to let that happen. Caleb would pay for a room before he would. Luckily, he didn’t have to worry about it since she’ll be in his apartment.
In his quarters.
Caleb kept a clean space. Everything was already perfectly neat as they walked into the living area. His unit was bigger than most since it was specifically intended for the long-time post of maintenance man. It was in a more secluded area on the bottom floor, away from all the other units.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” Although Caleb’s arms were filled with her bags, he still lifted them easily, welcoming her into his space.
She looked around, mouth gone slack.
“I’ve never seen a man’s space so… clean.” She commented, trailing her finger over the dining table–not a spec of dust.
And she thought Zayne’s house was clean. Of course it was clean, but he still had things like papers sprawled out on tables, and dirty coffee mugs not yet cleaned. But everything in Caleb’s apartment had a place, and that’s where it sat. Neat and organized. Not even a single pillow out of place. It made her think of all the dirty dishes in her sink during their first meeting, and she cringed. He must think my place is a pigstye compared to this, she thought.
He chuckled, opening the first door down the hall on the right. “I run a tight ship,” he admitted.
“You must hate coming to my place to see everything out of order then,” she commented, trailing him into the room.
The guest bedroom was bigger than her own master bedroom.
Caleb sat her bags down, then shrugged. “It looks good to me. Everything always seems neat, save for a pillow or blanket left out. But that’s no biggie.”
A grin crept onto her face. “So you have noticed,”
His expression mirrored hers. “Maybe a little,”
“Ugh! You’re gonna hate me by the time you’re done with my study,” she said, secretly hoping it would be the exact opposite.
“No, I won’t. If I have to, I don’t mind picking up after you. I know I’m pretty intense when it comes to cleaning up–I don’t expect you to be the same,” he reasoned, silently helping her unpack all of her belongings.
She packed enough for a week’s stay, since that’s how long Caleb estimated the repairs would take. That was more of an overestimation, but it was purposeful. He wanted as much time as possible with her, so fixing the room will be on the last on his list of priorities. That is, unless she complains about wanting to go home. Then, he will try to understand and get it done as soon as possible. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
After finishing with helping her unpack, he left the room, telling her that he would be in the shower if she were to need anything. Shower. Her brain short-curcuited at the word. That meant nakedness. He would be naked not even fifty feet away, separated only by a wall. When her brain finally rebooted, she found herself unable to sit still. Left to her own devices, she chose to take the time to give herself a tour around his apartment.
It wasn’t weird, right? She was the one in a new environment. One she would be in for the whole week. She has a right to get to know her surroundings. Except, she wasn’t doing that. If anything, she was snooping. She used the excuse to convince herself, but her true intentions were to get to know him.
One’s home reflects a lot about them.
He was clearly neat, precise, and maybe a little obsessive about it. That was clear from the moment she walked in the door. His windows were spotless–not a streak on them. The couch looked like stiff, unforgiving leather. Sitting down, she found that it actually wasn’t bad. One of the comfier leather couches she’s sat on. It looked brand new, but she could see one spot where it was more worn down.
“So he’s not a psycho who never sits on his couch, got it.” she whispered to herself.
His coffee table had few items on it, as expected. He seemed like the type of person to not like useless clutter. As opposed to her who loved to collect knick-knacks and store them around the house. The only things on it was a book about a war she knew nothing about and a model airplane. Wait, model airplane? A clue about him. He liked planes, or was proud of putting together this particular one at least.
Other than that, there wasn’t really much else to the living room besides a few lousy cushions and a television. Which led her to the kitchen. There were no dishes in the sink, so she assumed that he must order out a lot. The only visible thing on the counter was a bowl of apples, a coffee maker, and a can full of coffee grounds.
It made her think of the first time she talked to him–he said that he would take coffee as his payment. He must really like it if that’s the case. The real question was–what did he have in his cabinets? She felt like that was the most revealing thing about a person. Did he keep snacks? If so, which ones did he choose?
She opened the door to one of the cabinets, peaking inside. This one just had plain dinner plates and glass cups. So, she checked the next one, hitting the jackpot. It was full of various kinds of cereal, gummy snacks, chips, and even some candy. She giggled to herself–Caleb had the same diet as she did in elementary school. It looked like you handed a kid forty dollars to go and pick out whatever junk food they wanted, and this is what they chose.
Suddenly, a warm heat enveloped her along with his honeyed voice. “Hungry?” he asked, slight amusement in his tone.
She turned around with a smile still on her face, but upon taking him in, it dropped much like her (metaphorical) panties. There he was, hunched behind her not even a full foot away, clad only in a white towel and beads of leftover water. He was close enough that his hair, still wet, dripped onto her lip.
“Oops,” he chuckled, bringing his hand to her jaw, tenderly brushing the water droplet off of her lips much too slow to be friendly. “Must’ve not dried my hair good enough.”
MC was unable to speak, to think with him so close. The last time they were close like this, she’d been drunk and ready to pounce on him, mostly due to the alcohol. This time, she was stone-cold sober and he still had the same effect on her. Was this a taunt? Did he want her to touch him like that again?
The answer to both of those questions was yes.
Caleb smiled smugly, knowing that he had an effect on her. It was clear in her dilated pupils and her slightly parted lips that she wanted him too, and it made him feel better knowing that it wasn’t just because of the wine that day. But, she wasn’t the only affected one. He was too. Her too-tight short skirt and v-neck sweater had been taunting him all day. Not to mention that he couldn’t forget about how she’d answered the door in that robe he loved.
Blood rushed to his groin even after he’d just got off in the shower. Shit, shit, shit, he repeated in his mind, trying to think of anything other than her. A hard-on in only this towel would be glaringly obvious. The last thing he wanted was to freak her out. So, being the disciplined man he is, he straightened and backed away, but not without great effort.
He inconspicuously placed his hands over his groin–one, to hide his semi-hard on, and two, to control his hands. Otherwise, he might’ve taken her right there on the counter.
He swallowed thickly, picking up on the last thing he said. “If you are, I can make something for us.”
She blinked a few times, remembering herself. Trying to drum up a response, her brow furrowed. “Wait, you cook?”
He nodded, cheeks flushed. “Yeah, sometimes. I’m not a bad cook, I just really never have a reason to.” he reassured.
But he would, for her.
Maybe it wasn’t a pipe dream. Just an hour ago, she was fantasizing about just this–him fresh out of the shower, and a man willing to cook for her. Possibly, it wasn’t a fantasy she was living in right now. But damn was it close.
“Yeah, I’m a bit drained after today. And…” she clutched her stomach, hunger pains suddenly taking over. She said, absentmindedly, “I don’t think I’ve eaten today.”
Caleb’s eyes widened, a look of worry descending his features. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve gotten you something while we were out.”
She shrugged, uncomfortably hollow. “I just… forgot, I guess.”
Caleb pursed his lips, giving her a disappointed look. If she couldn’t remember, then he would have to remind her. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to have a snack, and while you’re getting ready for bed, I’m gonna whip us up somethin’ to eat. Sound good?”
While MC generally didn’t enjoy being told what to do by a man, when Caleb did it, she found it difficult to protest. He didn’t do it in a mean or demanding way, but in a firm way that ensured she would do anything he told her to. And she loved it. It made her wonder if he would be the same in bed.
She nodded, throat too tight to speak.
“Good. Which snack do you want?” he walked over to the cabinet that she stood below, halfway caging her in.
He started naming off the various things in the cabinet, attention steadfast on getting something into her growling stomach. But her attention wandered down his body from his chest, to his perfectly sculpted abs, and… oh god. Was that his cock? Better yet, was that hard or soft? If the latter, she feared for her safety. Even though she feared it, she had to fight the urge to not yank the towel down.
Caleb waited for an answer, but he found that she wasn’t paying attention to him, but little him. Her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth, brow furrowed, and cheeks aflame as she looked at it.
Panicking, Caleb blurted, “I’m not hard, I promise.”
A choked sound clambered out of her throat as she realized she’d been caught. “Sorry–I didn’t mean to stare,” she giggled nervously, feeling awkward. “It’s just–wait, what?”
Caleb couldn’t keep the smile off of his face now. He chuckled, also flushing a bright shade of red. “I think you heard me.”
They stood like that for a long moment, staring at each other. She tried to fathom how, if given the chance, she was going to take him. He was desperately trying and failing to keep himself at bay. With her eyes staring into his, he took the opportunity to hide his now hard member against the counter.
She cleared her throat suddenly, feeling parched. Breaking their stare, she said, “I’ll have cereal.” Then pointed to the box she wanted the most.
Before she could get the box down, he’d already grabbed it, along with a bowl. He turned around, carefully avoiding turning toward her. Looking down, his towel stuck out, a painfully stiff member underneath. He got the milk and poured it, making sure he was hidden the entire time. Once he put the spoon in the bowl, he walked away, leaving her to eat the cereal.
“I’ll be back in a minute, I’ve gotta change.” he said woodenly, trying his best to not turn around and ravish her.
She responded, but he had no clue what she said as he quickly shut his bedroom door behind him, yanking off his towel. His pulsing cock sprang free of its restraints, bobbing up and down. He gripped its base, wanting to strangle it for acting so irrationally and almost getting him caught. Stalking back into the bathroom, he turned on the vent, hoping it would drown out the sound of the shower.
Turning the knob all the way to the left, he hopped in and stood under the freezing water. Minutes ticked by, but his little guy didn’t seem like he wanted to go down at all. He tried to think of everything he could to get him to go down. Puppies–they’re so cute! He pictured one, and cuteness aggression seemed to override the overwhelming need for her.
But then a new picture came up–MC holding a cute little puppy, smiling, giggling, playing with it. Her smile alone was enough to get him standing right back up. He felt like a teenager all over again, but worse. He couldn’t recall a time ever being like this–painfully hard at a simple touch, a look from a woman. No, he’d never felt this way about any woman. But he did for her.
MC tried on various pajama sets, but nothing was working. What outfit was suitable enough for dinner and sleeping, but screamed “bang me on the counter,”? Although, the more important question she should be asking herself was if she was ready for that yet. It was no secret that she was still getting over Zayne. Plus, she still has to share a space with this man for a whole week.
There were so many reasons not to, so why did she want to so badly? It wasn’t just because of his looks, she’d been out with plenty of attractive men and been able to resist temptation. So maybe she was attracted to more than just his body or his face and was scared to admit it to herself.
She was attracted to Zayne certainly, but he never let her in far enough to really fall for him. He was closed off in that regard. Caleb was the complete opposite. She’d be willing to bet her next paycheck that he would open up to her if she wanted him to.
She caught herself thinking–falling for Caleb would be as easy as breathing.
Quickly, she erased the thought from her mind. She couldn’t be thinking such disastrous things. Having real feelings for someone was not something MC had ever experienced. Truthfully, the thing that bothered her the most about her breakup, if you could call it that, with Zayne was the rejection and the thought of what could’ve been. She felt something for Zayne, but it was more akin to great respect for him rather than love.
It made her think of what Caleb had said the night she stupidly told him everything about her lovelife–that she was lovestruck. She hadn’t stopped to think of what the term implied. Lovestruck. Struck, like lightning, brief but powerful. It didn’t mean that she’d fallen for him in a short amount of time. Hell, she’s had years of friendship to do that. No, struck just like it dawned on her that this could be a suitable partner.
So, pursuing it, she found that her and Zayne weren’t quite a match. And that was okay. Was she hurt? Yes, she was allowed to be hurt. Did it bruise her ego quite severely? Absolutely. But did any of that mean that she wasn’t good enough for him? Fuck no. It wasn’t his fault for making her feel that way–he’d never said explicitly why he didn’t want to commit to her.
If she was honest, that’s what bothered her the most.
She finally decided that she wasn’t going to try to impress him with some skimpy pajama set. She was going to be herself. No pressure, no expectations. Just real, raw her. So she chose what she would really wear to bed on a regular Monday night. Old, baggy sweatpants that she stole from a college hookup, glasses she never let anyone see, and a double XL hoodie. Don’t forget the frumpy grippy sock-slippers she insisted were the only thing that kept her feet warm during this time of year.
With her hair pulled up, she looked positively dressed to not impress any man. Fighting down the nerves of being her vulnerable self, she stepped out of her new room to “casually,” pad into the living room. Purposefully, she didn’t look at Caleb as he slaved away on their meal in the open concept kitchen. At first, he was too focused on quickly making her something to eat to notice her presence.
But when he heard the television suddenly flip on, his attention was drawn straight to her. He stilled. There she sat on the couch–not a stitch of makeup on, wisps of hair flying out of her updo, clothes swallowing her whole, and he was once again disproven. She really did get cuter every time he saw her.
It should be impossible.
But for her, it wasn’t. He didn’t know how she did it–continued to leave him speechless without a single word or even a look. She cuddled up on his couch under his knitted throw. It made his heart thump harder. This felt intimate. Way more intimate than the moment they’d had earlier. It felt like they were a real couple, both tired from a long day of work, but sought rest in each other’s presence and silence.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” what was meant to be a thought slipped from his mouth involuntarily as he admired her.
Her head whipped toward him, startled by the sudden speech. She tossed him an unsure smile.
“Yeah, I usually don’t wear them in front of people, but my head was hurting from my contacts.” she explained, looking uncomfortable.
“Why not?” he couldn’t help but be curious.
She gave another shy smile. “I don’t really like how they look on me,” she shrugged, unable to make eye contact with him. “They make my eyes look weird.”
He saw an opportunity, so he took it. “It’s a shame you think that ‘cause…” Was this crossing a line? Fuck it. “I think you look really pretty with them,” Her expression was stunned, but not disgusted or uncomfortable, so he trudged on. “But you’re always really pretty, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”
The woman was too stunned to speak.
Meanwhile, Caleb was too chickenshit to look at her after the declaration. He continued to plate their food quietly, hoping for some response.
“Thank you,” she said after a long, drawn out silence. “I think I really needed to hear that.”
For a moment, he was quiet, smiling to himself. Then he picked up their plates, carrying them into the living room where she was stationed. He sat her plate in front of her.
Getting bolder, he said, “You know, if you need to hear it some more I can do that. I’m quite passionate about the topic.”
She giggled. “Is that right?”
He then looked her straight into her eyes. “Yeah, it is.” he said, completely honest and serious.
She knew then that he wasn’t being funny or trying to make her feel better. He was very serious. He thought she was pretty. Really pretty, as he stated. Unable to shake the new knowledge, she couldn’t stop smiling. She smiled throughout their entire meal, chatting with him. Laughing with him–about life, work, her choice of show, a reality show that he made sure to tease her about, but got very invested in halfway through the episode.
It felt natural–like they were meant to do this. No awkward silences, comfortable ones that they could sit in between lulls in conversation. No pressure, no expectation. Perhaps the most important–no need to prove herself to him. She didn’t feel like she had to. He enjoyed the real, unfiltered her.
They sat on the couch parallel to the television. They’d started out on opposite ends, but as they ate their meal and chatted, their distance seemed to shrink. Neither of them noticed being too enthralled in the drama of the episode.
“So you’re telling me that Jason should’ve just–what? Pulled her off to the side and–”
“No, no, no!” MC exclaimed, pausing the show. She readjusted so she was facing him on the couch. “There is a certain way to do these things, Caleb.”
“Please enlighten me,” he said, completely enamored with her enthusiasm.
Just then, he noticed how close they were. Her knee was overlapping his thigh as she sat criss-crossed to his right. She clearly didn’t notice as she prepared to give her monologue about how to properly make a move on a person. The couple on the show were made to go out on a date, but MC believed that neither one of them were giving the correct social cues to let the other know they were interested.
Both of them wanted each other as they stated in their confessionals, but neither were making the proper moves to do so. Caleb believed, of course, that the man was showing all the proper cues, but he didn’t go further because the woman seemed like she didn’t want to.
“Okay, so they were sitting there–mind you, plenty of space on that sofa,” That made Caleb chuckle despite himself. “She turned toward him–the right social cue, but he just sat there with his hands in his lap like a nervous little virgin.”
She clearly couldn’t see the irony between the show and her current situation.
Caleb retaliated, making a calculated move to near her face. “But you’re forgetting that before that she said she wasn’t interested in a hookup, so that probably made him think she doesn’t want him in that way.”
“No, see, this is why men don’t get laid. They don’t listen,” The comment made Caleb throw his head back, chuckling. “She meant that she doesn’t sleep around, not that she was opposed to the idea of getting it on with him!”
“Then what should he have done? To let her know he was interested without making it seem like he just wanted a hookup.” Caleb asked, genuinely curious as to how her mind works.
“Something simple, but forward. Something clear.”
“Like…?”
She pondered on that for a moment, looking at the awkward couple on the screen. “Like… caressing her cheek or pulling her chin up to meet his eyes.”
“And if you were her, what would you do in response to that?” Caleb asked, no hint of amusement in his tone. His usually light tone turned into something heavier.
“Probably… g-get on top of him.” she stuttered out honestly, laughing.
Suddenly, a warm hand trailed along the side of her face, cupping it gently. Testing the waters. When she didn’t shrink away in fear, he took it a step further. Warm, rough finger pads gripped her chin softly, steadily urging her to face him. She did willingly, breath catching in her throat. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Both too afraid.
“Am I giving the right social cues? Because you don’t seem to be moving,” Caleb came off as confident, but he couldn’t mask the insecurity in his choice of words.
Her eyes flickered between his and his lips. Up, down, then up again. On one wobbly knee, she threw her other leg across his lap, straddling him.
Breathless, he smiled. “Now what should he do? To show that he’s interested.”
It was clear that they were no longer talking about the couple on the show.
Her heart hammered heavily against her chest so loud that he could probably hear it. “Touch her.”
His hands settled on her waist, pulling her down so that she was flush against him. She could feel all of him rub against her. She could tell that he was big even through the multiple layers of fabric holding him back. Her cunt salivated in response. Shameless, she rolled her hips against it, eliciting a barely contained moan.
He couldn’t help but groan, throwing his head back. With his hands, he guided her hips to do it again. She moaned, louder this time and involuntarily, his hips bucked up, causing a high gasp to fall out of her mouth. She continued rolling her hips, basking in the feel of his hard cock and the sounds he was trying and failing to contain.
Gasping for air, he asked, “What should be his next signal?”
Mind in a daze, it took her a second to respond. On a breathy moan, she said, “Fuck her on the couch.” She changed the motion of her hips to go up and down, making her want clear.
His laugh was breathy and fanned against her collarbone where he hovered. “Greedy girl, you don’t get my cock so soon.” He licked a solitary stripe across her collarbone before she could protest.
While she was distracted, he stilled her hips, not allowing them to move. She whined, trying to roll them again, but she was trapped in his grip.
“Not fair,” she whined.
“Maybe not, but I have to consider my feelings in this as well,” he said, looking like it pained him to stop. Her eyes finally opened, still blissed out. “You know how I told you that I’m not the kind of person to have hookups?”
She nodded shallowly.
“It’s because I can’t handle them. There’s somethin’ about connecting in that way with someone that… Well, I can’t just have it once. I’m not fuck-buddy material either. My feelings are strongly attached to my actions. Once I’m with someone in that way, I can’t just let it go. I have to let it play out,” he confessed. What he meant was–I can’t have you just once. “I’m telling you this because I want you to know what you’re getting into with me. I feel like I’ve made my feelings clear, but… I can’t tell what yours are.”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek at the confession, not knowing what to say back.
“And you clearly don’t know either,” he smiled, already knowing some of her tics.
She tried to cover it up. “No, it’s not that–”
He cut her off before she could fib. “It’s okay. I’m not going to stop likin’ you because you haven’t had the proper time to figure them out. I’m just putting myself out there, making my feelings clear. That way you’re not confused as to why I do certain things.”
She swallowed thickly. She’d never had a man be so straightforward before. It only made her want him more. But, she knew it wouldn’t be fair to her or him to do anything before she was ready–before she knew whether she wanted him in a relationship. She’d never been offered it so plainly before, or rather, never at all.
Here, sat just below her was the hottest, kindest guy she’d ever met, offering himself to her. It felt wrong to deny him like this. But, technically, she didn’t have to. He was willing to wait for her to know her true feelings. Already, that was more than any other guy had ever given her.
“Please say something,” he pleaded, trying his best to not sound as desperate as he was feeling.
Despite being annoyed over how worked up she was, she smiled down at him. “Thank you,” Then, she planted a kiss on his brow.
The place where she kissed him blazed with heat. He smiled back at her, satisfied in knowing that he didn’t scare her away with his confession. All of a sudden, she got off of his lap and shuffled toward the hallway.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked, following her movements.
Stopping, she tossed him a sly smile. “To take care of the mess you created.”
At first his brows furrowed, not knowing what she was talking about. Upon feeling the cool wet spot on his lap, his eyes dragged down to see the puddle she’d left in her wake. She soaked him. His eyes climbed back to her as she smiled evilly at him. There, he could see the damp outline on her pants, larger than his.
Seeing what exactly he’d done to her made him really regret not taking care of it for her.
Her smile widened. “Have fun by yourself, I know I will!” she said, dashing into the hall, into her room.
He hopped up off of the couch, but she’d already shut and locked the door before he could reach it. He knocked three times, more urgent than normal.
“Ma’am?” he asked, desperation now fully evident in his voice. “Please, I can take care of it for you,”
It was like music to her ears.
On the other side of the door, MC giggled to herself. She made sure every one of her movements could be heard. From the rustling of her clothes being taken off to the motions of getting her vibrator out of her bag.
“What’re you doing?” he asked from outside the door.
“Taking care of business.” she answered simply, a smile evident in her voice.
“Ma’am, please, I-I’m sure I can satisfy your needs much better,” Caleb begged. “Please open the door.”
She was silent for a few minutes, laying back on the bed. She hoped he’d be so needy that he knocked the door down. Instead, she was disappointed when she heard his footsteps walk away, and shut the door to his room. Little did she know that was part of his plan–he still stood right outside her door, listening carefully.
The vibrator lay next to her, taunting her. Knowing that she wouldn’t need any lube, she clicked it on, and started circling her clit with the tip. Caleb’s eyes widened as he heard the unmistakable sound, cock throbbing in his sweats. Would it be wrong to… take it out? If she was playing with herself, he could too right?
Slowly, she pushed the vibrator in, imagining it was him. She knew he’d be bigger than this–she’d felt it right against her core. Replaying the scene in her mind, a wave of pleasure crashed over her, gushing out of her. Pumping the device in and out, obscene squelches could be heard throughout the apartment from how wet Caleb had made her.
Outside the door, Caleb’s dick twitched in his palm, precum already spilling from his tip. Quiet, breathy moans floated out from underneath her door, making his palm pump faster up and down his slick shaft. He struggled to stay quiet himself as her moans progressively got louder, and the squelches got quicker. He cursed himself for not just giving in–what he would give to have her sounding like that underneath him right now.
However, she couldn’t hear anything but the vibration in her core. She imagined him brutally pounding into her for not opening the door when he begged her to. Writhing, her tits bounced up and down as she moved on the toy, her bed creaking with her movements. Not able to hear it, she couldn’t care less as she chased her high on the pink vibrator.
“I know you’re bigger than this stupid fucking toy,” she whispered, imagining it was him she was talking to.
And, she actually was talking to him.
His head fell back, imagining what he’d see if only he opened the door. What she would look like as he took the toy out and replaced it with himself. Would she scream for him? The answer was looking like a yes.
“I want your cock so bad,” she whined pathetically.
Caleb’s cock twitched at the words. “You can have it, all of it,” he whispered back, but she couldn’t hear him, too lost in her pleasure.
Her whimpers turned into cries, causing him to fuck his fist faster and harder.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum! C-Caleb!” she whisper-screamed.
“Ma’am, I’m g-gonna,” he said, unable to finish before he painted the inside of his boxers in white.
He leaned up against the door frame, trying to catch his breath. She laid bare on the bed, sweating, trying to see straight. Both were utterly lost in each other.
