#thinking out loud..........................

the breakerbox boys make good use of the club's surfaces 👍🔞

you've got used to simon’s silence when he's deployed. no calls. no texts. he simply vanishes from your shared life.

before his last mission, you’d pressed a small, matte black disc into his palm.

“what th’ fuck is this?” he’d grumbled, eyebrows knitted together.

“pocket pussy,” you’d deadpanned back. “best one i could get. you fuck it, i feel it. means i know you’re still alive… and we can both get off while you’re gone.”

his ears went red, but he’d tucked it into his bag without another word.

now, almost every night, you feel him.

thick fingers parting your folds, brushing over your clit until you’re soaked and trembling. then comes the stretch - his cock pressing into you from halfway across the world. you recognise every ridge, every vein, the perfect shape of him. 

sometimes he fucks you hard and fast, like he’s angry at the distance, hips snapping until your back arches and you cum with his name falling from your lips. other nights he’s slow, teasing your clit with absent circles of his thumb while he edges you, leaving your legs shaking and your voice hoarse from begging even though there's no way for him to hear you.

you’ve even felt him in the middle of the day - once when you were doing the big shop, having to pretend to be closely examining the nutritional information on a packet of cereal whilst your legs trembled. once in the shower, knees buckling as he thrust into you without warning, the stretch absolutely obscene. 

but every time he uses that little black disc, relief floods you.

he’s alive and he’s thinking of you.