The mission had been long and tiring, she needed to wind down with a nice hot bath.
The heat of the water instantly relaxed her body, she could finally be alone with her thoughts.
'How many missions are you going to fail before you leave him?'
That comment from some boy had really been bothering her. So what if they failed every mission? She had her own reasons for staying with him. It was proven as her hands slid down her body.
The task of bathing after a long day was suddenly and subconsciously forgotten, as a hand pinched and massaged her breasts the other finally reaching her painfully hot core. A gasp passed her lips as the words of her favorite song once again rang true.
She would never allow or want another to wield her no matter what form she was in. He was the only one who would hold her. "Ohhhhh!" She moaned.
In her mind they weren't just miester and weapon. The fingers thrusting in and out of her were not her own. Her moans and whispers of pleasure were being heard by my more than an empty room.
It was all him.
She always played that song when she took a bath.
Every time he asked why she liked it so much she would blush and say:
'Because its the truth.'
Then go and cook dinner, leaving him standing there confused even more by her interest in the odd song.
On some level he had to agree with the woman. When he was left alone he thought about her, when he closed his eyes she plagued his dreams, he would die for her...she was his number one fan and he was her's. He thought as he started stripping down subconsciously.
Who was she thinking about when she listened to this song?
Did she think about him when she touched herself?
He sure as hell was!
He wasn't sure how or when he'd ended up in his room naked, or when he'd started stroking himself...but right now in his mind it was her doing these wounderful things to him.
'BLACK STAAAARRRR!' She screamed inwardly as she found release.
.
'TSUBAKIIIIIII!' He some how managed to keep the groan in his head as he came.
They both finished what they were doing before the music possessed them, going about their nightly rituals. Only when behind the closed doors of their bedrooms did they each stop to wounder if the other thought about them when they touched themselves.
A/N: R&R
We own nothing but the plot.