hi! i see ur requests are closed so u can let this sit in ur inbox until they open up, i just wanted to say this before i forgot lol. could u maybe do something along the lines with simon and reader and she ends up accidentally spilling that nobody could ever make her cum before, and he takes action (hehe💋)
You'd yet to confess your feelings of attraction and deep-rooted desire to Simon. It weighed heavily in every limb, sinking to the depths of your stomach with a searing heat anytime you'd cross paths. It seemed to intertwine itself in your mind, unable to focus on anything else when Simon was in your vicinity.
When you'd met him, he terrified you- a chilling stare and body built for violence- but then you'd heard him speak. The buttery tone of his deep voice, encompassed by his gruff accent; it made your innards flutter.
Most found him to be blunt, harsh, even a bit of an asshole- whether it was delusion or lust, you didn't see any of it. He was kind, maybe a bit aloof, but his eyes softened when he looked at you, his shoulders relaxing when he heard your voice.
It wasn't difficult by any means to fall into the waves of longing that tugged you under. It was far too easy, and proved to be inconvenient when you tried to hold a conversation- your cheeks filled with blistering heat, seemingly weighing more than usual, your stomach flipping before uprighting itself when you'd retreat to safety.
Simon, lacking social know-how and tact, had a bit of trouble spotting a crush when it was staring him in the face. He had an inkling- a spark that fizzled out quickly due to his own deduction, but he hadn't shown a speck of suspicion. In fact, his behaviour hadn't changed since meeting you- save for a few moments he kept to himself when he stared at you from across the canteen.
He liked indulging the pleasing view of your face, your body; it wouldn't hurt anyone that didn't know. He couldn't help his gaze, slowly drifting to you, drawn to you, as if you were all that existed.
He admired you- if not for your personality, for the appearance you displayed to the world. Your physical appearance drew testosterone from the depths of his body to the surface. It would strike a match that lit up into jealousy when you showed any attention to male colleagues; whether possession or attraction, Simon couldn't tell the difference.
You were interesting, intriguing; something not yet stained by the gunpowder and blood of his life. You were pure, unencumbered by anything other than the regular trivialities of everyday normalcy. It captivated his attention.
Regardless of the unknown, yet requited, feelings brewing between you, it sat heavy in the air, stagnant, still, untouched. You were becoming tired of hopeless yearning, and the uncertainty that came with it, but had no inclination to act on any of it. There was no more you could do but to watch, and wait.
Simon perched over his drink beside you, already a few in, though no different to his usual demeanour. You, on the other hand, didn't have the years of experience with holding your liquor, and it had begun to show. Simon noticed you weren't entirely sober- you were touchy, more brazen than usual.
Any excuse to graze his arm, feel the heat of his body beneath your fingertips, you took. He didn't seem to mind- his eyes were locked on your hands as you wrapped one around his forearm. You'd leaned in closer, feigning interest in the ongoing conversation, but your heartbeat in your ears prevented you from paying much attention.
Simon's teammates noticed the interaction- silently pushing the two of you together with smug grins and subtle winks in Simon's direction. Had he really been so oblivious before? Had he not realized you were attracted to him? Wanted to know him? Touch him?
"That's the worst you've ever had?"
Johnny's words stuck out like a red flag, waving in your face- your ears perked up.
"Nothin' like yours," Gaz replied, sipping the blonde ale in front of him.
"Don't think I've ever had a bird fake it," Johnny paused, pursing his lips as he searched his memory.
"Probably have," Gaz nodded, a short chuckle leaving his lips, "Not like she'd tell you."
Johnny's gaze landed on you, a grin forming over his face as he saw the glassy look in your eyes, lazy blinks between subtle hiccups. An idea- one that would potentially open the doors for Simon- popped into his head.
"You ever faked one?" Johnny asked, leaning into the table.
You furrowed your brows, your lips parting in confusion.
"Faked what?" Your eyes darted between Johnny and Gaz, before looking up at Simon briefly.
He was watching intently, peering down at you from behind the stained and battered mask. He wore no discernible expression, at least not in his eyes, though his heart had begun to speed up as Johnny phrased his question to you.
"An orgasm," Johnny said, locking eyes with you as he sipped from his glass.
You shut your eyes, reminiscing on the past sexual experiences you'd had with a heavy sigh. You'd faked more than a few- not for your own benefit, and regretfully so. You contemplated revealing the embarrassing truth for a moment, weighing the risks, but ultimately you couldn't hide behind a lie- it was written on your face.
Your cheeks were already flushed with heat, but the personal question triggered the same response in every limb. You exhaled, avoiding Simon's gaze as you nodded.
"I've faked it a few times," You blurted, your eyes snapping open. "No one's ever made me orgasm before."
The men before you looked shocked- as if it were unheard of.
"Never?" Johnny asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
You shook your head, clearing your throat. It was uncomfortable being the centre of attention, especially during such a sensitive debate.
"That's bloody terrible," Gaz huffed, sitting back.
You shrugged softly, sipping your beer. "More common than you think."
Simon's eyes hadn't left you. He was busy, too busy imagining the assholes you'd slept with before, who hadn't made your thighs shake, your face wet with tears, your pussy sore and sensitive.
It provoked another confusing bout of jealousy and anger inside him, something he itched to resolve. It nearly burst from his chest, but he contained himself- not without the discomfort he'd created whilst imagining the expressions you'd make when he'd slide inside you.
The evening came to a close, laxity and lazy grins as you bid goodnight to Simon's teammates. The two of you sat alone, under the dim, yellowed light, Simon's heavy, daunting gaze reminding you of the shameful secret you let loose at the table.
It was uncomfortably quiet, heartbeats nearly audible as you eyed one another, waiting for anything to come along and break the silence. More than a few drinks in, his gaze wandering to your chest, your thighs, those sparkling eyes that teased him, he sighed.
"You stayin' here tonight?" He asked, standing to his feet.
You swallowed, your face lifting to find his eyes. You nodded.
"I'll walk you," He said, waiting patiently for you to finally stand and follow.
Your bunk wasn't a far walk- a few turns down empty, dingy hallways and you'd arrived. You wanted to invite him in, to forget about consequences and the fear of rejection settling in your stomach, but you couldn't.
He leaned against the door frame, and as you turned to thank him for walking you back, he leaned in, enough that his voice could be kept low and discreet.
"Was it true?" He asked, his heel squeaking as he moved closer. "No one ever make you cum before?"
Now that he'd truly registered your feelings, or at the very least, attraction, he was emboldened, and dead-set on digging to the truth. Maybe even showing you what an orgasm truly felt like when he was inside you, if you'd let him.
You'd spoken multiple times, shared jokes, felt comfortable enough to greet each other when passing by- but hearing him ask you such a personal question made heat bubble in your abdomen. The words from his lips hung in the air, repeating in your head like a broken record; it sounded alluring, inviting coming from him.
You looked up at him, eyes empty of everything but lust. Your heartbeat thumped against your uvula, ears ringing as he studied your expression.
"It's true," You nodded.
"Shame," He muttered.
Your eyes were drawn to the thickness of his fingers as they spread out over the frame- wide veins stretching the length of his hand, callouses formed along the crest of his palms. Butterflies tickled the lining of your stomach, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes again.
"Why's that? Aside from the obvious," You offered a sheepish smile, one of discomfort and awkwardness.
"Can't imagine leavin' you unsatisfied."
He gauged your reaction, waiting for rejection or protest of any kind, though your lips were frozen apart, your voice sealed away by utter disbelief.
"Some people aren't as selfless, I guess," You offered, nearly stuttering over your words.
He sat with your answer for a few moments, before lifting his head to stare at you.
"Y'deserve better than that."
He leaned in, stoic and stealth-like, invading your personal space. His hand reached your waist, warmth radiating through his palm, his fingers barely squeezing down. He inched further down, clasping his hand around the meaty flesh of your hip.
Your mouth was agape, watching the scene unfold in front of you within mere moments. He was so close you could smell the tobacco emanating off his equipment. The whites of his eyes stood out against the charcoal paint across his face, with dark irises reflecting the image of you, flustered and frozen.
"Are you suggesting... you'd do better?" You asked, nearly stuttering as you gathered what little composure you had left.
He paused, tilting his head, "Only if you're interested."
Your hands were fumbling together, your body on fire in his grasp. If he were any closer, surely he'd hear the pulse roaring in your throat.
He stared you down, his eyes flickering between yours, waiting with baited breath as you organized your thoughts; the offer was tempting, nearly impossible to reject, but he was intimidating. Regardless of how long you'd been pining after him- intimacy was a daunting thought.
His hand pulled your body in, "You interested?"
On instinct, your hands landed against his armoured chest. Even through the barrier between you, you could feel the heat emanating from his skin. It only reminded you that beneath the equipment and gear was a man- was Simon.
Without a second thought, without the normal reasoning and judgement you usually filtered through, you blurted out a quiet 'yes'. Whether it was the liquor reinforcing your backbone, or the adrenaline in your veins, you followed his lead as he guided you back into your bunk.
His hand shut the door, hardly turning his attention from you before he lifted his mask in order to kiss you- soft, apprehensive, but his hands had landed on your waist and kept you stuck in place in front of him.
You'd met him on your tip-toes, slinging an arm around his neck when the kiss turned from gentle curiosity to pure need. He was generous with tongue, greedy with his hands as he grabbed every part of you he could reach. His hand stretched across your cheek, fumbling slightly as your knees hit the edge of the bed and you crumpled beneath him.
He hovered over you, lavishing your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses that gave you tingles in your stomach.
"Christ," He groaned, sitting back to lift the vest over his head. His shirt went with it, exposing the carved muscles of his chest and navel that made your thighs squeeze together. "You smell so bloody good," He muttered, returning over you to nuzzle his nose against your jaw. "Always do," He added. "Might just have t' taste you, too."
Your heart leapt at his suggestion, and suddenly you were leaning on your elbows, watching him unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. His hands guided your thighs over his broad shoulders, sliding calloused palms over the smooth skin of your legs until he was perched right where he wanted to be.
He leaned closer, fleeting kisses against your inner thighs provoking gentle gasps from your chest, and light giggles when he squeezed the fat of your legs. The rough stubble of his jaw rubbed against your thighs as he lifted your panties out of the way, and buried his face against you.
A loud gasp echoed around the room, another following when his tongue slid between your folds, flattening against the silky skin of your pussy. He gave quiet, brief grunts of pleasure, squeezing down harder when his tongue would glide from your hole to your clit.
When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue lapped against it, your hand reached for his head, steadying him against your warm, wet pussy.
"Oh my-" You groaned, guttural and genuine, likely the first you'd experienced of pleasure from a man devouring you. "Simon," You breathed, fingers gripping the fabric of his mask.
He was gentle and yet firm, a technique you'd not experienced before, and it made your stomach clench.
"You like that, sweetheart?" He asked, lifting his head to find your watery eyes and flushed skin. With an enthusiastic nod, he hid a smug grin. "You like when I fuck you with my mouth?" Another enthusiastic nod.
You bit your lip- saving yourself a bit of humility by refusing to moan to his words. Filthy as they were, they didn't compare to the wetness of his tongue flicking over your clit, or his soft lips gently pulling against it.
He continued down the path of success, until you were on the verge, likely longer than he'd expected but his stamina hadn't been affected.
Your thighs and legs twitched with anticipation, tense muscles preparing you for the full-body contractions and overwhelming pleasure- when he stopped. Your back flattened against the mattress, lifting your head out of curiosity.
"Is something wrong?" You asked, chest heaving as you caught your wind.
He loosened the buckle of his belt, dropping his jeans low enough that his cock- hard and throbbing- sprung against his stomach.
"Nothin's wrong," He answered, climbing over you, sliding a hand beneath your head as he situated himself between your thighs. "Just rather feel you cum on my cock," He said.
Your eyes widened as he breached your entrance, his girth stretching your pussy, feeling the plush muscles inside you with closed eyes and a low groan. He exhaled harshly in your ear, a deep shudder that sent shivers down your body.
"Fuckin' hell," He breathed out.
His other hand yanked your thigh to his side, holding you firmly until he could trust you'd keep it there. His first thrust was deep and long, bottoming out inside you, before changing the angle and driving even deeper than before.
His lips, situated beside your ear, released strained exhales and short moans, unable to hide the grunts of exertion and expression of pure pleasure. He had you straddling his body, limbs wrapped around his in an effort to keep you close, plunge his cock deep inside you, where no one had reached before.
Your back had arched against the mattress, and he suddenly sat back to watch you take him. Your half-shut eyes and awe-struck expression only drove him to please you, to see exactly how you looked.
His hands lifted your shirt over your head, large fingers yanking your bra off your chest before he cupped your breasts with calloused hands. Squeezing and teasing, running his hands down your sides as he memorized every curve of your body.
You'd been repeating his name from swollen lips and breathless lungs, gasping and panting while he rutted into you. Your gaze dropped to his hands, and you watched with anticipation as he lifted his thumb to you lips, urging you to take it in your mouth.
"D'you want me to play with you while I fuck you?" He asked. You nodded. "Then get it nice and wet, sweetheart."
You sucked softly, your tongue wetting the pad of his thumb, in turn pulling a low groan from Simon who wanted nothing more than to watch your lips tighten around his finger. He pulled away, a string of saliva following as he dropped his thumb to your clit, rubbing back and forth softly across the sensitive bud.
You gasped softly; your eyes widening at the sensation of his cock gliding in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit. His other hand had found its place on your hip, holding you steady against his side as he rocked his hips, slamming them into the flesh of your thighs.
"Please," You whispered, searching for a coherent sentence, anything to enjoy the relief of your orgasm. "Need to cum," You said.
He grinned, "Go on- squeeze my fuckin' cock, sweetheart," He leaned closer, his eyes poring into yours when your lips parted, your body froze.
The sensation was new, no longer fluttering around nothing, now he was deep inside you, your pussy pulsating around the hard flesh of his cock. It felt better- so much better- than your own fingers.
He didn't relent while you writhed on his cock, not even when your pussy squeezed him so hard he nearly came inside you without a second thought. Instead, he leaned closer to spit on your pussy, rubbing your clit thoroughly while your legs struggled to remain clamped against him.
"Fuck," You choked out, your entire body trapped in a tense, frozen position as your orgasm overtook you. "Shit, Simon."
"You feel so fuckin' good," He grunted, a flash of a grin over his face. "One more- for good measure," He ordered.
Your body was limp, though Simon meant it; he watched you gasp for air, push at his chest when it was all too much. He himself was near his climax, but he could push it to the back of his mind if he focused entirely on you, especially as you cried out his name. He owed it to you.
Simon leaned in closer, his gaze glued to you as he thrusted inside you, wrapping his free hand around the circumference of your thigh. Your entire body rocked with his weight, feeling his fingers rub back and forth while his cock massaged your walls.
Another orgasm quickly approached- Simon was entirely invested and particularly good at learning new things- especially where your pleasure was involved. He watched you unfold, slowly at first, before your head fell back against the pillow and you cried out.
He could feel you shake, feel the sweat dripping down your thighs, the slick liquid leaking from inside you and drenching his cock and pelvis. Thick, coarse hair now covered in your arousal, his cock soaked with the creamy evidence of how hard you'd climaxed on him.
"'M close," He grunted, eyes flashing from the view of his cock sliding in and out of you to meet your gaze. "Fuck, I'm close," He breathed.
Your hands reached his shoulders, pulling his sweat-covered body against yours, your own skin slick with perspiration.
"Cum in me," You whispered in his ear, still catching your breath.
Without hesitation, and with your permission- he climaxed, every muscle tensing, his testes tightening as his pelvis slammed against you and he released every drop of his cum deep inside you.
It was still for a moment, still feeling his cock twitch as he exhaled, catching his breath.
"You alright?" He asked, staring at you from his position.
"Yeah- you?"
"Fine," He replied. "Any better?" He rolled to the side.
You pursed your lips, turning to meet his eyes. "I faked it," You hid a growing grin.
"'Nother go, then?" He tucked his arm behind his head, cocking it ever so slightly as he eyed you down.
"I could give it another try," You feigned disinterest, smiling softly.
"Come 'ere," He nodded, helping you over his hips. "Make yourself cum this time."
hi! i see ur requests are closed so u can let this sit in ur inbox until they open up, i just wanted to say this before i forgot lol. could u maybe do something along the lines with simon and reader and she ends up accidentally spilling that nobody could ever make her cum before, and he takes action (hehe💋)
You'd yet to confess your feelings of attraction and deep-rooted desire to Simon. It weighed heavily in every limb, sinking to the depths of your stomach with a searing heat anytime you'd cross paths. It seemed to intertwine itself in your mind, unable to focus on anything else when Simon was in your vicinity.
When you'd met him, he terrified you- a chilling stare and body built for violence- but then you'd heard him speak. The buttery tone of his deep voice, encompassed by his gruff accent; it made your innards flutter.
Most found him to be blunt, harsh, even a bit of an asshole- whether it was delusion or lust, you didn't see any of it. He was kind, maybe a bit aloof, but his eyes softened when he looked at you, his shoulders relaxing when he heard your voice.
It wasn't difficult by any means to fall into the waves of longing that tugged you under. It was far too easy, and proved to be inconvenient when you tried to hold a conversation- your cheeks filled with blistering heat, seemingly weighing more than usual, your stomach flipping before uprighting itself when you'd retreat to safety.
Simon, lacking social know-how and tact, had a bit of trouble spotting a crush when it was staring him in the face. He had an inkling- a spark that fizzled out quickly due to his own deduction, but he hadn't shown a speck of suspicion. In fact, his behaviour hadn't changed since meeting you- save for a few moments he kept to himself when he stared at you from across the canteen.
He liked indulging the pleasing view of your face, your body; it wouldn't hurt anyone that didn't know. He couldn't help his gaze, slowly drifting to you, drawn to you, as if you were all that existed.
He admired you- if not for your personality, for the appearance you displayed to the world. Your physical appearance drew testosterone from the depths of his body to the surface. It would strike a match that lit up into jealousy when you showed any attention to male colleagues; whether possession or attraction, Simon couldn't tell the difference.
You were interesting, intriguing; something not yet stained by the gunpowder and blood of his life. You were pure, unencumbered by anything other than the regular trivialities of everyday normalcy. It captivated his attention.
Regardless of the unknown, yet requited, feelings brewing between you, it sat heavy in the air, stagnant, still, untouched. You were becoming tired of hopeless yearning, and the uncertainty that came with it, but had no inclination to act on any of it. There was no more you could do but to watch, and wait.
Simon perched over his drink beside you, already a few in, though no different to his usual demeanour. You, on the other hand, didn't have the years of experience with holding your liquor, and it had begun to show. Simon noticed you weren't entirely sober- you were touchy, more brazen than usual.
Any excuse to graze his arm, feel the heat of his body beneath your fingertips, you took. He didn't seem to mind- his eyes were locked on your hands as you wrapped one around his forearm. You'd leaned in closer, feigning interest in the ongoing conversation, but your heartbeat in your ears prevented you from paying much attention.
Simon's teammates noticed the interaction- silently pushing the two of you together with smug grins and subtle winks in Simon's direction. Had he really been so oblivious before? Had he not realized you were attracted to him? Wanted to know him? Touch him?
"That's the worst you've ever had?"
Johnny's words stuck out like a red flag, waving in your face- your ears perked up.
"Nothin' like yours," Gaz replied, sipping the blonde ale in front of him.
"Don't think I've ever had a bird fake it," Johnny paused, pursing his lips as he searched his memory.
"Probably have," Gaz nodded, a short chuckle leaving his lips, "Not like she'd tell you."
Johnny's gaze landed on you, a grin forming over his face as he saw the glassy look in your eyes, lazy blinks between subtle hiccups. An idea- one that would potentially open the doors for Simon- popped into his head.
"You ever faked one?" Johnny asked, leaning into the table.
You furrowed your brows, your lips parting in confusion.
"Faked what?" Your eyes darted between Johnny and Gaz, before looking up at Simon briefly.
He was watching intently, peering down at you from behind the stained and battered mask. He wore no discernible expression, at least not in his eyes, though his heart had begun to speed up as Johnny phrased his question to you.
"An orgasm," Johnny said, locking eyes with you as he sipped from his glass.
You shut your eyes, reminiscing on the past sexual experiences you'd had with a heavy sigh. You'd faked more than a few- not for your own benefit, and regretfully so. You contemplated revealing the embarrassing truth for a moment, weighing the risks, but ultimately you couldn't hide behind a lie- it was written on your face.
Your cheeks were already flushed with heat, but the personal question triggered the same response in every limb. You exhaled, avoiding Simon's gaze as you nodded.
"I've faked it a few times," You blurted, your eyes snapping open. "No one's ever made me orgasm before."
The men before you looked shocked- as if it were unheard of.
"Never?" Johnny asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
You shook your head, clearing your throat. It was uncomfortable being the centre of attention, especially during such a sensitive debate.
"That's bloody terrible," Gaz huffed, sitting back.
You shrugged softly, sipping your beer. "More common than you think."
Simon's eyes hadn't left you. He was busy, too busy imagining the assholes you'd slept with before, who hadn't made your thighs shake, your face wet with tears, your pussy sore and sensitive.
It provoked another confusing bout of jealousy and anger inside him, something he itched to resolve. It nearly burst from his chest, but he contained himself- not without the discomfort he'd created whilst imagining the expressions you'd make when he'd slide inside you.
The evening came to a close, laxity and lazy grins as you bid goodnight to Simon's teammates. The two of you sat alone, under the dim, yellowed light, Simon's heavy, daunting gaze reminding you of the shameful secret you let loose at the table.
It was uncomfortably quiet, heartbeats nearly audible as you eyed one another, waiting for anything to come along and break the silence. More than a few drinks in, his gaze wandering to your chest, your thighs, those sparkling eyes that teased him, he sighed.
"You stayin' here tonight?" He asked, standing to his feet.
You swallowed, your face lifting to find his eyes. You nodded.
"I'll walk you," He said, waiting patiently for you to finally stand and follow.
Your bunk wasn't a far walk- a few turns down empty, dingy hallways and you'd arrived. You wanted to invite him in, to forget about consequences and the fear of rejection settling in your stomach, but you couldn't.
He leaned against the door frame, and as you turned to thank him for walking you back, he leaned in, enough that his voice could be kept low and discreet.
"Was it true?" He asked, his heel squeaking as he moved closer. "No one ever make you cum before?"
Now that he'd truly registered your feelings, or at the very least, attraction, he was emboldened, and dead-set on digging to the truth. Maybe even showing you what an orgasm truly felt like when he was inside you, if you'd let him.
You'd spoken multiple times, shared jokes, felt comfortable enough to greet each other when passing by- but hearing him ask you such a personal question made heat bubble in your abdomen. The words from his lips hung in the air, repeating in your head like a broken record; it sounded alluring, inviting coming from him.
You looked up at him, eyes empty of everything but lust. Your heartbeat thumped against your uvula, ears ringing as he studied your expression.
"It's true," You nodded.
"Shame," He muttered.
Your eyes were drawn to the thickness of his fingers as they spread out over the frame- wide veins stretching the length of his hand, callouses formed along the crest of his palms. Butterflies tickled the lining of your stomach, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes again.
"Why's that? Aside from the obvious," You offered a sheepish smile, one of discomfort and awkwardness.
"Can't imagine leavin' you unsatisfied."
He gauged your reaction, waiting for rejection or protest of any kind, though your lips were frozen apart, your voice sealed away by utter disbelief.
"Some people aren't as selfless, I guess," You offered, nearly stuttering over your words.
He sat with your answer for a few moments, before lifting his head to stare at you.
"Y'deserve better than that."
He leaned in, stoic and stealth-like, invading your personal space. His hand reached your waist, warmth radiating through his palm, his fingers barely squeezing down. He inched further down, clasping his hand around the meaty flesh of your hip.
Your mouth was agape, watching the scene unfold in front of you within mere moments. He was so close you could smell the tobacco emanating off his equipment. The whites of his eyes stood out against the charcoal paint across his face, with dark irises reflecting the image of you, flustered and frozen.
"Are you suggesting... you'd do better?" You asked, nearly stuttering as you gathered what little composure you had left.
He paused, tilting his head, "Only if you're interested."
Your hands were fumbling together, your body on fire in his grasp. If he were any closer, surely he'd hear the pulse roaring in your throat.
He stared you down, his eyes flickering between yours, waiting with baited breath as you organized your thoughts; the offer was tempting, nearly impossible to reject, but he was intimidating. Regardless of how long you'd been pining after him- intimacy was a daunting thought.
His hand pulled your body in, "You interested?"
On instinct, your hands landed against his armoured chest. Even through the barrier between you, you could feel the heat emanating from his skin. It only reminded you that beneath the equipment and gear was a man- was Simon.
Without a second thought, without the normal reasoning and judgement you usually filtered through, you blurted out a quiet 'yes'. Whether it was the liquor reinforcing your backbone, or the adrenaline in your veins, you followed his lead as he guided you back into your bunk.
His hand shut the door, hardly turning his attention from you before he lifted his mask in order to kiss you- soft, apprehensive, but his hands had landed on your waist and kept you stuck in place in front of him.
You'd met him on your tip-toes, slinging an arm around his neck when the kiss turned from gentle curiosity to pure need. He was generous with tongue, greedy with his hands as he grabbed every part of you he could reach. His hand stretched across your cheek, fumbling slightly as your knees hit the edge of the bed and you crumpled beneath him.
He hovered over you, lavishing your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses that gave you tingles in your stomach.
"Christ," He groaned, sitting back to lift the vest over his head. His shirt went with it, exposing the carved muscles of his chest and navel that made your thighs squeeze together. "You smell so bloody good," He muttered, returning over you to nuzzle his nose against your jaw. "Always do," He added. "Might just have t' taste you, too."
Your heart leapt at his suggestion, and suddenly you were leaning on your elbows, watching him unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs. His hands guided your thighs over his broad shoulders, sliding calloused palms over the smooth skin of your legs until he was perched right where he wanted to be.
He leaned closer, fleeting kisses against your inner thighs provoking gentle gasps from your chest, and light giggles when he squeezed the fat of your legs. The rough stubble of his jaw rubbed against your thighs as he lifted your panties out of the way, and buried his face against you.
A loud gasp echoed around the room, another following when his tongue slid between your folds, flattening against the silky skin of your pussy. He gave quiet, brief grunts of pleasure, squeezing down harder when his tongue would glide from your hole to your clit.
When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue lapped against it, your hand reached for his head, steadying him against your warm, wet pussy.
"Oh my-" You groaned, guttural and genuine, likely the first you'd experienced of pleasure from a man devouring you. "Simon," You breathed, fingers gripping the fabric of his mask.
He was gentle and yet firm, a technique you'd not experienced before, and it made your stomach clench.
"You like that, sweetheart?" He asked, lifting his head to find your watery eyes and flushed skin. With an enthusiastic nod, he hid a smug grin. "You like when I fuck you with my mouth?" Another enthusiastic nod.
You bit your lip- saving yourself a bit of humility by refusing to moan to his words. Filthy as they were, they didn't compare to the wetness of his tongue flicking over your clit, or his soft lips gently pulling against it.
He continued down the path of success, until you were on the verge, likely longer than he'd expected but his stamina hadn't been affected.
Your thighs and legs twitched with anticipation, tense muscles preparing you for the full-body contractions and overwhelming pleasure- when he stopped. Your back flattened against the mattress, lifting your head out of curiosity.
"Is something wrong?" You asked, chest heaving as you caught your wind.
He loosened the buckle of his belt, dropping his jeans low enough that his cock- hard and throbbing- sprung against his stomach.
"Nothin's wrong," He answered, climbing over you, sliding a hand beneath your head as he situated himself between your thighs. "Just rather feel you cum on my cock," He said.
Your eyes widened as he breached your entrance, his girth stretching your pussy, feeling the plush muscles inside you with closed eyes and a low groan. He exhaled harshly in your ear, a deep shudder that sent shivers down your body.
"Fuckin' hell," He breathed out.
His other hand yanked your thigh to his side, holding you firmly until he could trust you'd keep it there. His first thrust was deep and long, bottoming out inside you, before changing the angle and driving even deeper than before.
His lips, situated beside your ear, released strained exhales and short moans, unable to hide the grunts of exertion and expression of pure pleasure. He had you straddling his body, limbs wrapped around his in an effort to keep you close, plunge his cock deep inside you, where no one had reached before.
Your back had arched against the mattress, and he suddenly sat back to watch you take him. Your half-shut eyes and awe-struck expression only drove him to please you, to see exactly how you looked.
His hands lifted your shirt over your head, large fingers yanking your bra off your chest before he cupped your breasts with calloused hands. Squeezing and teasing, running his hands down your sides as he memorized every curve of your body.
You'd been repeating his name from swollen lips and breathless lungs, gasping and panting while he rutted into you. Your gaze dropped to his hands, and you watched with anticipation as he lifted his thumb to you lips, urging you to take it in your mouth.
"D'you want me to play with you while I fuck you?" He asked. You nodded. "Then get it nice and wet, sweetheart."
You sucked softly, your tongue wetting the pad of his thumb, in turn pulling a low groan from Simon who wanted nothing more than to watch your lips tighten around his finger. He pulled away, a string of saliva following as he dropped his thumb to your clit, rubbing back and forth softly across the sensitive bud.
You gasped softly; your eyes widening at the sensation of his cock gliding in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit. His other hand had found its place on your hip, holding you steady against his side as he rocked his hips, slamming them into the flesh of your thighs.
"Please," You whispered, searching for a coherent sentence, anything to enjoy the relief of your orgasm. "Need to cum," You said.
He grinned, "Go on- squeeze my fuckin' cock, sweetheart," He leaned closer, his eyes poring into yours when your lips parted, your body froze.
The sensation was new, no longer fluttering around nothing, now he was deep inside you, your pussy pulsating around the hard flesh of his cock. It felt better- so much better- than your own fingers.
He didn't relent while you writhed on his cock, not even when your pussy squeezed him so hard he nearly came inside you without a second thought. Instead, he leaned closer to spit on your pussy, rubbing your clit thoroughly while your legs struggled to remain clamped against him.
"Fuck," You choked out, your entire body trapped in a tense, frozen position as your orgasm overtook you. "Shit, Simon."
"You feel so fuckin' good," He grunted, a flash of a grin over his face. "One more- for good measure," He ordered.
Your body was limp, though Simon meant it; he watched you gasp for air, push at his chest when it was all too much. He himself was near his climax, but he could push it to the back of his mind if he focused entirely on you, especially as you cried out his name. He owed it to you.
Simon leaned in closer, his gaze glued to you as he thrusted inside you, wrapping his free hand around the circumference of your thigh. Your entire body rocked with his weight, feeling his fingers rub back and forth while his cock massaged your walls.
Another orgasm quickly approached- Simon was entirely invested and particularly good at learning new things- especially where your pleasure was involved. He watched you unfold, slowly at first, before your head fell back against the pillow and you cried out.
He could feel you shake, feel the sweat dripping down your thighs, the slick liquid leaking from inside you and drenching his cock and pelvis. Thick, coarse hair now covered in your arousal, his cock soaked with the creamy evidence of how hard you'd climaxed on him.
"'M close," He grunted, eyes flashing from the view of his cock sliding in and out of you to meet your gaze. "Fuck, I'm close," He breathed.
Your hands reached his shoulders, pulling his sweat-covered body against yours, your own skin slick with perspiration.
"Cum in me," You whispered in his ear, still catching your breath.
Without hesitation, and with your permission- he climaxed, every muscle tensing, his testes tightening as his pelvis slammed against you and he released every drop of his cum deep inside you.
It was still for a moment, still feeling his cock twitch as he exhaled, catching his breath.
"You alright?" He asked, staring at you from his position.
"Yeah- you?"
"Fine," He replied. "Any better?" He rolled to the side.
You pursed your lips, turning to meet his eyes. "I faked it," You hid a growing grin.
"'Nother go, then?" He tucked his arm behind his head, cocking it ever so slightly as he eyed you down.
"I could give it another try," You feigned disinterest, smiling softly.
"Come 'ere," He nodded, helping you over his hips. "Make yourself cum this time."
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