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You can't believe it.
Just your luck that when you get to campus for your three hour class, you see the email that was sent earlier. The professor was sick and the lecture was cancelled.
What a fantastic waste of a commute. A hot commute, too - good thing you wore shorts instead of full-length pants or you'd be melted onto the campus walkways.
At least this gives you a chance to help out more with chores today. Caleb is back home for the week now that his midterm exams are finished, and it doesn't seem fair that he's home alone doing housework while on break. Even though he reassured you that it was fine, saying, “It's good practice for when I have my own place. Besides, you were the one who always used to shove your chores on me when we were kids”, it still feels wrong to leave everything for him to do now.
You get inside and set your things down before heading towards the back of the house, where the laundry room is. Caleb had asked you for your laundry bin this morning, so chances are, he was going to be doing laundry. Maybe there was some stain treating or handwashing or something you could help with.
It turns out that you were totally right, since Caleb was in the laundry room, with a few piles of clothing sorted on the floor around him.
Then you see it. And you freeze.
Caleb must have not noticed that you came home. But there's no mistaking what you walked in on.
He seems to be completely in his own world, standing there with his pants off, holding a pair of underwear - your underwear - to his face. Panting. And his other hand is moving rhythmically, wrapped around… Woah. That's his… so that's what it looks like.
Damn…
You know that you can't stay here watching him. You know this is wrong to do.
But you can't take your eyes off of this scene, either. Especially not when you hear him moan and whimper. It's shocking, but the longer you watch, the more turned on you get. Shit.
“Shit!” Almost as if he heard your thoughts, Caleb curses. Your eyes snap up to his face as he begins scrambling to cover his dick with the underwear he was holding.
You mentally slap yourself back to reality. “What the hell are you doing, Caleb?!”
“What the hell are you doing?! Why aren't you in class?”
“It was cancelled. I thought I'd come home and help with chores, but apparently–”
“I was doing just fine before you got here, meimei.” He cuts you off as his face reddens. (Almost to the same shade as his–)
“Yeah, it sure seems so, you weirdo. You probably–”
Before you manage to sling another quip at him, there's a sound of a car pulling up. Both of your heads turn towards the door, hearing slow footsteps approach.
Oh no. Your mind begins to race with a thousand ‘what-if's and your eyes snap from the door to Caleb. “Grandma. She can NOT see you like this. Go, go, go!” Hurriedly, you push Caleb into the closet where all the laundry and cleaning supplies are kept, then quietly pull the door shut behind you.
“Hey! What're you–?” Caleb whispers before you cover his mouth with your hand.
You both listen intently as Josephine enters the house and calls out for Caleb, asking if he's seen her grocery store loyalty card. Getting no response, she calls out again as her footsteps near the laundry room.
“Caleb?”
She's just outside the closet door.
You hold your breath.
And you hear her tut, “Tch, that boy always leaves the laundry half-finished. Caleb!”
A moment later, she chuckles. “Ah, there it is. Never mind! But come finish getting the clothes in the wash! I'll be back soon with those ingredients you wanted for supper.”
And then, she's gone. Hearing the car pull away, you slowly pull your hand from Caleb's mouth only for him to say, “Why did you come in here too? Dummy.” He flicks your forehead.
“Ow! I don't know, I panicked!” You look up at him, and it's only then you realize how close you are to each other in this cramped little closet. There's a broom handle poking your side, a shelf right behind you, and Caleb nearly pressed to your front. Well… one part of him is pressed to your front, firm and hot and slightly damp against your bare thigh. Forcing yourself to ignore it as your cheeks warm, you reach for the door. “Let's just...”
You grasp the doorknob… but the knob won't turn.
You try turning it again, the way you need to to open this specific, janky doorknob that only turns one way. “Why won't it open?” You look up at Caleb's face in the tiny, dark room. Then, you try the knob again.
“Here, let me.” He reaches over, and tries to open the door, too. Still, it won't turn. “Dammit.” He lets out a sigh. “Looks like we're stuck in here. Great thinking there.”
“What? No. ” You try opening the door, again with no luck. Then you groan, “Well that's just great. Now what? I don't even have my phone on me, so I guess we need to wait until Grandma gets home? But then she'd see… all of this.” You trail off.
You swallow, suddenly feeling Caleb's presence more than ever before. His warmth, his scent, his…
No.
You can not be thinking about that right now. Or how it's twitched against your leg a few times.
Caleb lets out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I bet she'd tear me a new one. You too. I can already hear her scolding us for gettin’ stuck in a closet like children avoiding their chores. And worse. Makes me wanna crawl into a hole.”
You both go quiet.
A couple of minutes pass.
The broom starts to poke into your side uncomfortably.
The shelf presses into your back.
Eventually, you need to readjust. So you shift over just a bit, relieving the pressure from your side and back, leaning into Caleb a bit more. But he groans and his hand grips your arm. “Fuck, Pipsqueak, don't… do that.”
“Sorry, the broom…” You begin apologizing before you realize what happened. You didn't hurt him. His breathing is heavy. He's biting his lip. And he's blushing.
He lets out a shaky breath and loosens his grip, shifting his weight to his other leg in order to make a little space between you. But in the process, his thigh moves forwards, pressing between your thighs, right where you're most sensitive.
When he feels - and hears - your reaction, his eyes widen. The hitch of your breath and barely stifled moan. The dampness. The heat.
“Pips, you're not… turned on, are you?” Caleb asks, stopping in place, thankfully. But also, why did he stop right there? With his thigh still between your legs?
Now you're the one who feels like crawling into a hole. “No,” you lie. You know that he can tell it's a fib, and not just because he's able to feel it against his skin. Because this is Caleb, and he always knows when something is up.
So, reluctantly, you meet his eyes. Your voice comes out meeker than you wanted it to. “I'm not not turned on?”
Hearing that, he visibly swallows, Adams' apple bobbing at the same time something else bobs, lower down.
Now, you have a choice to make, and there are two ways this could turn out. Really well, or really badly. You hope that this choice you're making will end well.
So you shift forward again.
And Caleb lets out the most delicious groan, his entire body stiffening as his thigh grinds against you even firmer than the first time. “Hngh~ Ah. What... are you doing?”
Before he gives you a chance to respond, his hand clings onto your arm again and his head drops to your shoulder, breath tickling your skin. It's clear he's trying to hold back from moving like that again. “Listen, I need you to think. You actually wanna do this? Because if you keep moving like that… I don't know if I'll be able to hold back from doing other things.”
You feel a sudden surge of confidence seeing how much you've affected him. In a slightly singsong-y voice (not unlike the one you've heard from his lips) you murmur, “Welllll... don't hold back then.” You grind your hips forward again and this time, you also let out the sound that bubbled up from your chest. Caleb lets out a hot breath against your collarbone, then his hands slide down your arm and to your hips, then around to your lower back… then lower.
And cupping your ass, he pulls you towards him with as much force as he can muster in this cramped closet, angling you slightly so his length slides between your thighs.
And he moans. Loudly.
He gives a tentative roll forwards, his leaking tip sliding against the damp fabric between your legs. “Mmh… fuck~ You good, Pips?” he breathes, voice significantly lower than usual.
Ohhhh, is it good. Better than good. You let out a soft “Mmhm… soooo good…” as you do your best to mirror his movements. “You?”
Caleb chuckles, then shudders and lets out another beautiful moan, rocking forward again with even more confidence now that he's heard you like it. “So, so good. You have no idea.” Then, he rolls his hips again.
It doesn't take long for you both to find a rhythm, moving in-sync as though you've done this before. Feeling his hands supporting you, his hardness grinding against the throbbing of your core through your clothes, his breath on your throat, and his moans on your skin. As well as his filthy, lewd words spilling out in a constant stream.
“Yeah, like that… just let me hold you like this and I'll make you feel so good, baby.”
“I've wanted you for so long. Can't believe it.”
“You're being so good for me. So wet and needy…”
“Maybe next time, these clothes won't be in the way… Fuck, I'd love to feel that. Wouldn't that feel good? Your skin against mine, your wetness dripping directly onto me?”
The closet feels so hot, and he's so close, but not close enough, and that last comment puts even more thoughts into your mind. Hardly able to tell whether you're just thinking or actually speaking as your brain conjures images; “Feeling your fingers… feeling your bare chest against mine… feeling you inside me…”
“Mm, you want me inside you next time? Filling you up?” Through the haze of the darkness, Caleb's voice cuts through and nearly melts your brain. You manage to stay grounded enough despite the tension building inside you and the shake of your legs to plead, “Yes. Yes, Caleb, please.”
Caleb curses under his breath. “Fuck. I'm not gonna last much longer, baby. Not with you saying things like that and you finally being here and–” he lets out a loud moan, his hips bucking forwards erratically and his hand tightening on your ass. “‘M so close. Gonna… I'm gonna…”
Caleb buries his nose in the crook of your neck as he gives a couple more tense thrusts, then finally lets out a needy whine as he spills between your legs. His cock twitches against your clothed hole with every wave of his orgasm, his cum soaking into the fabric of your shorts and dripping onto the floor. And as he slowly comes down from his high, you feel a small rivulet begin to drip down your thigh.
Caleb takes a moment to catch his breath then softly, he kisses your forehead. “Wow, that was… intense…” Then he drops his head lower against your neck again and murmurs, “Your turn now, baby.”
With some difficulty due to the cramped space, Caleb positions his hand where his cock just was. Right at the apex of your thighs. Teasingly, Caleb whispers, “Can't leave you pent-up now, can I? I just hope this will do for now, despite how badly you seem to want something else.” His fingers curl slightly and he presses his palm right where you're aching, not seeming to care about the fact that his hand is getting covered in his own cum.
And then he pulls back ever so slightly, making you whine. “More, Caleb, please.” You buck against his hand, making him chuckle.
“Keep doing that, baby. Use my hand to make yourself feel good.” Your hips roll forwards, grinding against the heel of his hand, seeking friction. “Juuust like that.”
You continue riding his hand, not able to move as well as you'd like to because of the shelf behind you, but eventually you get the right amount of leverage to grind harder, faster, finding exactly what you need. Letting out breathy whimpers and moans and low groans.
The tension inside you builds.
And builds.
And builds.
Almost there.
And builds.
So… so close…
Until Caleb murmurs in your ear. “You're doing so good, meimei. So good for me.”
And that sends you hurtling over the edge into a mind-numbing orgasm. Your hole clenches around emptiness while your entire body trembles in his arms as wave after wave of pleasure takes over you.
Finally, you collapse in Caleb's arms, hardly able to stand but feeling so, so good. For a moment, you both just stand there in the silence of the dark cleaning closet, only hearing your heavy breathing.
Caleb eventually whispers, “You okay?” You nod and lean into him just a little more. “Good. Me too.” Slowly, your mind begins to clear of the endorphins that had just been flooding your system. And you realize something.
“Hey… umm…” You take a deep breath, centering yourself a tiny bit more. “This closet has the doorknob that only turns to the right, right? Because right from the outside is–”
You reach over shakily and turn the doorknob to the left.
The latch clicks. And the door swings open.
Caleb blinks. Then in the light coming in from the laundry room, a smile comes to his face, and then, he chuckles. “Huh. So it was open the whole time?”