[ The praise has a warming effect on Irving's tension, relaxing him enough that he doesn't flinch against the touch this time but leans into it, not even fighting against having his head turned so that he's looking Jack in the eyes. They've reached a stage where even he can recognize there's no point in fighting against every step, in not just submitting to the pleasure while it's happening-- he'll have to account for any and all of his sinful behavior later as it is, might as well just worry about it then.
Irving stares back, eyes half-lidded with weary pleasure, and nods slowly. ]
Y-yes, [ His voice is low, quiet, but clear. ] I do.
[ He wants it so badly he probably looks stupid, but Irving remains undeterred, moving toward Jack and pausing only to consider the physical logistics at hand, such as: which way should he face? Irving's instinct is, as usual, to face away, although climbing backwards onto Jack's lap seems significantly more complicated than the alternative, so he relents and climbs on the easy way, facing Jack, since Jack is apparently keen on watching Irving's face while buggering him anyway.
(Which Irving doesn't get at all, personally; looking at others while nude or engaged in anything remotely carnal only makes him want to look away, and being looked at doing same only makes him want to hide. Being looked at while he sits on Jack's cock is somehow even more nerve-wracking to him than the act itself.)
Straddling Jack's hips, Irving avoids eye contact as he carefully lowers his own, guided by Jack's erection bumping itself against the cleft of his ass. The next step, actually fitting inside him, is less straightforward, but Irving manages to figure that out on his own, reaching behind himself to hold Jack's cock still as he aligns himself with the head of it and lowers down about an inch. His other hand, meanwhile, presses over his mouth as his breathing begins to hitch faster. ]
no subject
Irving stares back, eyes half-lidded with weary pleasure, and nods slowly. ]
Y-yes, [ His voice is low, quiet, but clear. ] I do.
[ He wants it so badly he probably looks stupid, but Irving remains undeterred, moving toward Jack and pausing only to consider the physical logistics at hand, such as: which way should he face? Irving's instinct is, as usual, to face away, although climbing backwards onto Jack's lap seems significantly more complicated than the alternative, so he relents and climbs on the easy way, facing Jack, since Jack is apparently keen on watching Irving's face while buggering him anyway.
(Which Irving doesn't get at all, personally; looking at others while nude or engaged in anything remotely carnal only makes him want to look away, and being looked at doing same only makes him want to hide. Being looked at while he sits on Jack's cock is somehow even more nerve-wracking to him than the act itself.)
Straddling Jack's hips, Irving avoids eye contact as he carefully lowers his own, guided by Jack's erection bumping itself against the cleft of his ass. The next step, actually fitting inside him, is less straightforward, but Irving manages to figure that out on his own, reaching behind himself to hold Jack's cock still as he aligns himself with the head of it and lowers down about an inch. His other hand, meanwhile, presses over his mouth as his breathing begins to hitch faster. ]