[ Irving swallows slowly, but nods, applying Jack's guidance as best as he can manage, although it's still a bit of a struggle doing it to himself even apart from his own hangups surrounding self-harm-- er, self-pleasure, as his body is not exactly used to bending this particular way. It amazes him slightly his fingers can even reach as deeply inside him as he's getting them to.
He slows down, curls his fingers, shivers with his whole body again as it begins to (as promised) feel good, something that makes him moan more with shame than pleasure, but still he doesn't stop. The growing pleasure of it may be sinful and disgusting and whatever else -- it's getting harder and harder to concentrate on the litany in his head of all the things he should be feeling shame over -- but he also doesn't actually want to injure himself in his haste, because then it will have all been for nothing. ]
All right, I-I'm--
[ Irving chokes back a gasp behind the palm of his free hand, groaning low and quiet, mildly desperate, behind that barrier as well. It's beginning to feel a little too good... ]
H-how much more of this? I'd rather... [ Ugh, he hates to say it, but: ] I would rather it be you.
no subject
He slows down, curls his fingers, shivers with his whole body again as it begins to (as promised) feel good, something that makes him moan more with shame than pleasure, but still he doesn't stop. The growing pleasure of it may be sinful and disgusting and whatever else -- it's getting harder and harder to concentrate on the litany in his head of all the things he should be feeling shame over -- but he also doesn't actually want to injure himself in his haste, because then it will have all been for nothing. ]
All right, I-I'm--
[ Irving chokes back a gasp behind the palm of his free hand, groaning low and quiet, mildly desperate, behind that barrier as well. It's beginning to feel a little too good... ]
H-how much more of this? I'd rather... [ Ugh, he hates to say it, but: ] I would rather it be you.