She lay, wrist covering eyes, stretched out, awake.

He was in the bathroom.

Her legs were arched, gash open, the wild dark blonde hairs, the red lips. She began to touch herself, gently, rhythmically.

She could hear him moving around the room. She kept at it, wrist over eyes, hand flicking.

His movement stopped.

But she didn’t, and almost too soon, her body tensed and shook and softened.

And then his sound, like someone coming up for air.

She opened her eyes, and she saw him, hand dripping, cock dripping, mouth open, eyes closed.

They smiled at each other.