those few first initial thrusts at the beginning, the ones where the guy gives that sigh of almost relief as his hands tighten around you, fingers dimpling your skin, eyes glued to where you two meet absolutely lost in the sauce makes my head spin because simon savors nothing. not the smokes he puffs down to the filter in less than a minute, the energy drinks he guzzles down more than he does water, not even the damn food. if he could just swallow it whole without risking death he would but you (and your pussy)???
like the guys sitting around a safe house waiting for dawn to break to exfil and they're just talking about what they miss about home the most. they all say generic stuff, miss their beds, pets, family, whatever so when it's simon's turn they all assume it's food because he's talking about a specific little burger joint that, in their opinion, sounds like a hovel, but no one's ever thought simon has sane taste but then when kyle asks him what does he like off the menu the most his eyebrows furrow and he looks almost repulsed.
because he is.
"the food's bloody terrible. couldn't make me eat there even if it was the last place on earth."
no, he explains, my bird makes up for it. best damn pussy he's ever ate.