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It's honestly the silliest predicament Jester has ever put herself in — and she did put herself in it. She can think back and recall every single seemingly unrelated choice she made, each leading her one step closer to this very moment and these very words in gloriously vivid detail.
"I have never, ever said this," Jester pants, trying to keep her head on straight for long enough to express herself completely while the night is still young, "but if you talk dirty to me I might fall asleep."
Caleb Widogast's head rises from between her legs. He's even more handsome in real life than he is on YouTube, freckled head to toe with a tiny little scar denting the side of his nose that his camera never picked up and his auburn hair tussled from her hands running through it ever so gently.
"What?"
"Not in a bad way!" Jester says. She really should've started with that, huh? But Caleb had been sucking the head of her dick so sweetly while she tried to put her words together — how was a girl supposed to speak eloquently when faced with hostile conditions like this?
"In... what way, then?"
"Well, I watch your book reviews, obviously, I would've been way too shy to say hi to such a hot guy if I hadn't had such a great conversation starter to hit you with." She pauses to make sure Caleb is following, then a moment longer to delight in the pleased, kind of bashful smile that appears on his lips. "But I don't really watch them for, like, the content? I mean, they're great! Super knowledgeable and stuff! But mostly I watch them because I sometimes have a hard time falling asleep and your voice is so soothing in them that I basically can't get through one without passing out, so..."
Caleb just starts laughing. He laughs! It's the perfect laugh, so handsome Jester might explode or kiss him to death the next time she can drag him back up to her face. Maybe both?
"So I may lull you to sleep if I talk too much," Caleb says once he's done laughing, with a smile like he might start back up again the second he's told he's right. "Because you use my literary critiques as ASMR."
Jester nods rapidly in confirmation, a little embarrassed and a little giddy. He doesn't seem put off at all, even ignoring that laughter and that smile — in fact, he's eyeing her crotch again with a thoughtful gaze that makes Jester squirm against his sheets, fighting off the hot and shivery urge to snap her legs shut. He's hard too, gloriously so, pressing insistently against his boxers with a damp spot in the plaid right at the head, and that makes resisting so much easier.
"I suppose," Caleb says slowly, lowering himself back down in tiny increments like he's doing something sneaky, "that the only solution here is for us to keep my mouth as consistently busy as humanly possible."
Jester can totally get on board with that.