Will was sitting in a chair in the corner of her room when she came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body, still dripping wet. She didn't jump when she saw him, just carried on with her post-shower routine for a few minutes without a word.

Helen knew it was coming, she'd seen the tension in him building over the past few weeks as it always did, but over the past couple of days it was obvious to everyone that he was holding something back from them all. Holding something back that was hurting him almost. She knew he would come to her, she never had to go to him to stop him from snapping and taking out his feelings on someone else.

This was all she could give him, all she would give him, she daren't get any more involved with Will than this arrangement already meant.

She dropped the towel, standing naked before him in the light of her lamps, and glanced at him, his eyes locking with hers as she lay down on her bed. His eyes were dark, and his jeans already tented, but he hadn't moved since she'd come into the room, hadn't moved to touch himself. He just watched as she ran her hands down her damp body, over her neck to her breasts. It wasn't like she didn't want this, didn't want Will, she liked to be watched as much as he liked to watch her, she just didn't get exactly the same needs met that he did. She sighed as she cupped her breasts, her nipples already hard from the colder air in her bedroom, and she heard him moan quietly when she circled her fingers around one. She looked over at him again, his hands were in his lap now, still, and she closed her eyes to concentrate on herself.

She tried not to imagine anything or anyone when she performed for him like this, because if she was going to imagine anyone, she might as well just let Will make love to her, and she couldn't do that, instead concentrating on every move and touch of her own hands.

She heard Will's zip when her hands moved down to her centre and she pressed her fingers down, moaning softly.. Oh perhaps she did need this, she thought, running her fingers through her dark hairs, finding her clit. She was so wet, hard been so since she'd noticed Will sitting in her room waiting patiently for a show, knowing his eyes were on her body. She could barely keep her eyes open when she did this for him, so she never knew exactly where he was looking. Were his eyes on her breasts? Between her legs? Watching the expression of pure pleasure on her face as she pushed two fingers deep into her body, hips arching up a little to meet her hand?

She wanted to look over at him again, but concentrated on her fingers moving in and out of her own tight body, one hand on her breast, pinching her nipple hard, crying out quietly. She wanted to make noise, wanted to scream, but never had in her own Sanctuary, never would. Helen Magnus was far too private for that, but she would masturbate in front of her friend and protégé because he needed her.

Helen suspected he was in love with her, and came to that thought, crying out, thumb pressing down on her clit, fingers deep in her body. She shook through it, just able to hear Will's harsh breaths and groans over her own.

She waited for him to finish and leave as usual, listened to his broken cry of 'Magnus' and feeling her arousal building again a little. She didn't open her eyes, didn't want to see the tension of the past few days drained out and turned into sadness. Tomorrow morning things would be back to normal.

She heard him move, and expected the door to open and close, but instead felt his presence next to her as he leaned over, his mouth next to her ear.

"I wish you'd give me a chance," he whispered, kissing her chastely on the cheek.

When he was gone she started to cry.