I am sick of Souls teasing, in the heat of it I had stormed out trying desperately to get away from it. It's not that I liked him or anything, just sometimes I got distracted and he just so happens to be doing something other girls might find attractive, then he has to go and make a big deal about it. As I'm walking home I come up with a plan to give him a piece of my mind, tell him exactly how he makes me feel, which is the opposite of what he thinks. Upon opening the apartment door I don't find Soul where I had left him, in the living room, laughing at the fact that I had spaced out just as he was walking to his room in a towel after his shower. I do how ever find his bedroom door closer. I try the handle, locked...well I'll show him. Removing a hairpin from my pigtail.

I begin to pick his lock, there is no way he's going to get away with his teasing anymore. I have full intentions of making him pay when I get the door open. And as I succeed I triumphantly turn the knob quietly, planing a sneak attack. I find him lounging on his bed with his headphones on, in just his jeans. At first I think he's sleeping but upon closer inspection I notice his breathing change, his fingers are playing invisible keys on his chest. His hips move in a way that seems to be a stretch of some kind but then I notice the bulge. A low internal moan draws my eyes back up to his face, his eye brows raise and then lower. His fingers cease there tapping for a second before his whole hand begins it's southward trek. I watch knowing I am violating every right he had, I mean I had broken into his room for one and for two I am continuing to watch his actions as some kind of pervert. But I can't turn away I can't blink, there was something about what he is doing, what he is about to do that intrigues me and I can't make myself leave.

His fingers slowly work at his belt, pulling the leather strap free of it's hold. Graceful digits getting the loop of denim off the round metal fastener. As his thumb and pointer finger grasp the zipper pull and begin to work it down, his hips rock upward thrusting himself into his palm, a forced breath escaping his lungs. He rubs himself with his hand, quietly grunting at the contact. Slowly he continues, rocking his hips and grinding against his hand. His thumb hooks into the opening in his boxers as he releases himself from the confining fabric. Lips parting with a held exhale.

I watch as his fingers wrap around his member and begin to stroke it slowly and skillfully. His breathing changes into something more erratic, his chest moving up and down with heavy breaths, guttural low moans reacting when his palm slowly rubs over the head of his erection. He licks his lips before breathing hard adding in an extra stroke a few times before returning to his carefully paced execution. I watch his chest rise and fall as his whole body seems to move if only in the slightest. His hips seem to be thrusting into his hand more then his hand is moving and to be extremely honest, his movements are making me wet. My finger tips twitch at the hem of my skirt. His movements are so rhythmic that I become curious as to what he's listening to, knowing some of the smoother music he listens to to just chill, I can begin to imagine the soothing ups and downs of the tempo.

His head starts to arch backward into his pillow giving him the most beautiful body line I have ever seen. I never thought that watching a man pleasure himself could be so sensual, everything I had ever seen on the subject was through glimpses of porn and that was differently nothing like what I am witnessing, he made it an art, something as pleasurable for the eye of the watcher as it was for himself.

His hands pace picks up a fraction of a second as his hips keep moving in their slow thrust. I watch as he bites his lower lip, a groan held back by the act. His other hand that had been still up until now, laying in wait on his chest, desperately reaching over to the other side of his bed grabbing the box of tissues, placing it closer for easy access before disappearing on the other side of him.

He slows everything down bringing his hips to a rest, teeth letting go on his lip and a low moan is released. His brow furrows as he tilts his chin further up. His chest is heaving at this point, breath hitching ever so often on an inhale. His hips thrust slowly again and he sighs before picking up speed.

Between my legs is throbbing and aching to be touched. I hadn't noticed until now that even my breathing is elevated. Watching him and waiting for his climax is almost to much. I clench my thighs wanting to kill the urge to touch myself.

His body seems to relax for a second as he rubs the tip, breathing steady but quick. His hand stills as his hips thrust upward, breathing cut off by a moan before his hand starts it's ministration. He licks his lips once more tilting his head back into the pillow once again his brow creases and he bares his teeth as he growls, low and guttural. His hips slowly come to a stop as his hand works the bottom half of his shaft before coming to a strained rest at the base, another growl before I watch the messy evidence of his task spill onto his chest in a large spurt, his fingers moving slightly upward causing more to spill out and his growl becomes a groan before turning into labored breathing. He releases his hold on his spent member as it lays tiredly on his lower abdomen. He lays his hand, palm up on his bed next to him as his breathing begins to slow down.

Before I can retreat his eyes open as his other hand reaches for the tissue. And as he is taking the tissue into the hand that did all the work he looks right at me standing at his door way, just a bit disheveled.

"Fuck." He lays his head back down on his pillow, closing his eyes, he removes his headphones. "How much of that did you see?"

"Sorry, just walked in."

"Bullshit." He breaths as he proceeds to wipe up his mess.

"Ok..." I watch as he puts himself back in his boxers.

He sits up and looks at me. "Did you like what you saw?"

"I didn't see anything."

"Lier." He said it with a straight face.

"What would you like me to say?"

"How about the truth."

"Fine, I picked the lock on your door." He stands up, jeans still undone causing them to ride low on his hips. "And I watched you from start." He walks towards me, "to finish and..." His left hand reaches up, fingers sliding along my skin as he cradles the back of my head.

"And..." He pushes, voice low.

"And I liked it...a lot." I swallow.

He leans down and kisses me. I just about melt into him. His arm is around my waist holding me close to him. I moan softly into his mouth and he pulls back.

"Do I get a show? I mean since got to see me, or would you like me to help?" His breath is hot against my lips.

I blush unable to control it, "you could um..."

"Lend a hand?" He offers.

I nod slowly.