╱╲ 18+ stuff below. Explicit and foul language. Orgasm-controlling freak named Caleb. mdni thanku.
I’ve been thinking about Caleb and control. ‘Cause it never really felt limited to life-or-death situations. It feels… systematic. Like something that would sometimes… seep into other moments too.
So… I reckon Caleb’s the kind of guy who pulls back when you’re both about to cum just to edge you for another thirty minutes purely because he likes how tight you get when you’re about to cum. Because he likes knowing you could… but you won’t. Not when he’s decided otherwise. So I call em like I see em: Caleb’s the type to shatter your soul right when you’re about to cum.
We’re talking: voice breaking, breathing rough “ah— nnnh— ah… ah-ah-ah-ahhhh… gonna—”
He doesn’t even finish the sentence properly; he buries his face between your tits with this strangled, helpless sound. That’s how close he is. He’s swallowing his cussing, his eyes are all rolled back and your brain’s melting. You swear he’s right there with you—you’re so. gonna. cu—
Dude pulls out with a sadistic chuckle. An asshole chuckle. It’s long. Filthy and rumbling deep in his chest. “—heh ehe…I know-I know, pips... I know what I said.. but… You feel insane like this.”
So there you fucking are: A leaking cunt and a raging hard dick chasing absolution, but nah—denied. Gates slammed shut. And the sound of his laughter doesn’t let up. “Ah-hahaawhh… you… You grip so fuckin’ tight on the edge… please—please. Suffer with me a little longer. Sh-shhh… I know it hurts. That’s the point. Mm… You’re a good girl—riight?” He forces back in—ahh—goddd—buries to the hilt just to watch you sob, then holds perfectly still. “Hehe—f-fuck… that’s iiiit—ahh… s-slowly… mhm… god, you’re the cutest when you listen to me.”














