Simon catches you masturbating.
You dropped the towel from around your body and flopped onto your bed. It had been a stressful day, a stressful few weeks and you needed some relief in any form you could get it. The solar shower had been lukewarm, the water more of a trickle than a stream and as it had tickled along your body you'd thought about one thing. You let your knees fall open against the mattress, your hand eased between your thighs and with a satisfied groan you pressed your finger against your swollen clit.
You needed release and you lost yourself in the chase of it. You didn't even notice your door opening or the man standing at the foot of your bed until he groaned, his silence impossible as he watched you work yourself over.
Your eyes sprang open, your fingers sliding from your pussy as it tightened towards an orgasm. "Simon," you gasped watching his gaze fixed directly between your legs, his breathing deepening.
"Don't stop on my account," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours for the briefest moment before it flicked back to your hand, urging you to carry on. You were already so close that the idea of not finishing was painful and having Simon watching you only made your need even greater. Arousal coated your fingers as you slid them back inside, the palm of your hand cupping your mound as you fucked yourself over the edge, your toes curling, your back arching and all your tension fizzling away in one long orgasm.
You lay panting, Simon never looking away as you trembled with aftershocks. "Your turn," you whispered and his eyebrows arched with interest before his lips turned into half a smile.
"My turn?" his voice was hoarse, his hand toying with his belt.
"I wanna watch you jerk yourself off," you said, sitting up in the bed, propping your cushion against the wall and getting comfortable.
"Fuckin' A," he laughed, unbuckling his belt and easing his jeans down just enough to free his hardened cock.
You lit one of your precious cigarettes, even though you'd been rationing them it wasn't every day you got to enjoy a live show and you wanted to savour it. You inhaled the smoke, blowing one long stream towards him as he began to touch himself.
Simon pumped his shaft, starting at the base before gliding over the end, making his hand slick with precum before it tightened around him. His grunts of pleasure turned you on, your clit tingling to be touched again, your body wanting to feel him inside, sliding his cock in and out of you instead of his hand. But you remained impassive, smoking your cigarette and memorising the image of him jerking off with your body as his inspiration. He didn't take long, his grunts became more intense, his hand pumped harder and suddenly he was groaning loud, his rhythm slowing as he caught the come that shot from his cock.
You pressed your thighs together, saving the feeling for later and forcing you voice to be even as you asked, "so what did you wanna talk to me about?"
"What?" he said, his voice breathy.
You stubbed your cigarette out, grabbing a tissue from the box by your bed, "you came to my room to tell me something didn't you?"
He let his soft cock slip from his hand, cleaning himself with your tissue, "I erm…" he racked his brain before laughing quietly, "I forgot."
"You forgot?"
Simon laughed a little harder, "I was thinking about something else." He eyed up the man sized space on the other side of your bed and you'd be a liar if you said you didn't consider it. But men, relationships, people, they were complications you weren't interested in.
You grabbed the scrunched up tee from your nightstand and pulled it over your head, "you should leave then."
His face fell but desire still lived in his eyes, "that's it?"
You shrugged your shoulders, you were a Savior and you took care of yourself. In every way. When Simon relented, stepping into the hall with his head low, you told him, "and next time…"
His eyes lit up.
"Knock on the fucking door."