He hears that hiss, that near moan, can feel the falter in Dodger's movements and then the way he speeds up and he winces a little, but gasps too. He can't help it; he feels rather pleased with himself for having brought on such a reaction. When Dodger moans and laughs and praises him, he grins outright. His grin is crooked being half bleary with lust, but still, proud of himself.
So many of his own moans and noise have been lost between their kissing. But now, as Dodger grips him, as he feels that press, there's nothing to hide it and he groans loud. More, more, more, his body is stretched and then filled. Dodger, as he recalls, is hardly small, but somehow he takes it all as he knew he would. The rush of it makes his eyes water, but it's not so much that the pain eclipses all else. He's aware of the brilliant heat inside him and of the way Dodger grips his hips and he feels crazy for that sensation alone. He can't catch his breath, and it seems, neither can Dodger.
He thinks about that question. As much as he can while his head spins that is. He asks himself honestly.
"I can handle it," He decides. He doesn't know if it's because it will be happening to him and no one else, or even if it's what he'd really like, but he's intrigued by the idea and the way the thought sends a shiver through him despite the heat.
He decides to add, just to see what would happen; "Please."
If they're being honest he'd expected another falter, another moment where Hector couldn't quite follow his pace. His head swims with the feeling of Hector's body tight around him, and he nearly comes on the spot at the sound of that please
But he catches himself, gripping into the headboard until he hears it buckling a bit, thinking about boring conversations or tax laws or anything that will cool him back down.
He lets out a low moans as he finally starts to move. One hand grips into Hector's hip and the other slips up to grip his shoulder, but his first few thrusts are slow for his own benefit as well as Hector. He works himself up steadily, lifting Hector's hips up a bit so he has just the right angle.
He wonders if he's done wrong, hearing the headboard creak above him. He's still catching his breath and in that he waits for Dodger to start, his heart racing with the thrill of his own uncertainty.
And then at last, he's gripped. His moan joins Dodger's in a faint chorus. He's surprised but grateful for the slower build-up. His arms reach up for Dodger, to touch, to lock around his neck, whatever he can do. There's no rocking his own hips back while gripping like this, but he tries to help, shifting his body whatever way he can to give what Dodger's looking for. Until another moan rings louder than the last.
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So many of his own moans and noise have been lost between their kissing. But now, as Dodger grips him, as he feels that press, there's nothing to hide it and he groans loud. More, more, more, his body is stretched and then filled. Dodger, as he recalls, is hardly small, but somehow he takes it all as he knew he would. The rush of it makes his eyes water, but it's not so much that the pain eclipses all else. He's aware of the brilliant heat inside him and of the way Dodger grips his hips and he feels crazy for that sensation alone. He can't catch his breath, and it seems, neither can Dodger.
He thinks about that question. As much as he can while his head spins that is. He asks himself honestly.
"I can handle it," He decides. He doesn't know if it's because it will be happening to him and no one else, or even if it's what he'd really like, but he's intrigued by the idea and the way the thought sends a shiver through him despite the heat.
He decides to add, just to see what would happen; "Please."
no subject
But he catches himself, gripping into the headboard until he hears it buckling a bit, thinking about boring conversations or tax laws or anything that will cool him back down.
He lets out a low moans as he finally starts to move. One hand grips into Hector's hip and the other slips up to grip his shoulder, but his first few thrusts are slow for his own benefit as well as Hector. He works himself up steadily, lifting Hector's hips up a bit so he has just the right angle.
no subject
And then at last, he's gripped. His moan joins Dodger's in a faint chorus. He's surprised but grateful for the slower build-up. His arms reach up for Dodger, to touch, to lock around his neck, whatever he can do. There's no rocking his own hips back while gripping like this, but he tries to help, shifting his body whatever way he can to give what Dodger's looking for. Until another moan rings louder than the last.