[ He lets his mouth be coaxed open by Jack's thumb, a needy whine escaping him the moment his lips part enough to let the sound out. Irving's eyes, too, are coaxed open slightly by the praise, glazed but focused on Jack's face with an intensity that their pale color makes seem strangely innate, like he's hoping to find answers to how he's supposed to feel about any of this there-- then drops his gaze quickly once Jack thrusts in deep, startling a moan out of Irving, loud and vaguely prim.
No holding back now; he couldn't keep quiet if he tried. ]
You-- [ He huffs, breath hitching sharply. ] You also-- also feel... g-good.
[ The last word is nearly whispered, but he gets it out, just barely, the whole sentence sticking in his throat the whole way for how impossibly difficult it is to say. Irving feels as if, perhaps, he owes him at least that much honesty, for everything else Jack's so far offered him in return (in more ways than one), because it does genuinely feel good in a way Irving never thought sex actually could feel; as much as he's never wanted to "figure it out," right now that's all he wants, to feel and get his fill of all the specific sorts of pleasures he's deprived himself of for so long.
It makes a difference, pushing back while Jack is always pushing forward, magnifying the experience almost overwhelmingly so. His fingers dig into Jack's hair more deeply, gripping and pulling it as Irving rocks in place trying to match the pace Jack's set, all the while gasping and whining and clinging tight against the other man. ]
D-don't stop, [ Spoken between pants. ] Please don't stop.
no subject
No holding back now; he couldn't keep quiet if he tried. ]
You-- [ He huffs, breath hitching sharply. ] You also-- also feel... g-good.
[ The last word is nearly whispered, but he gets it out, just barely, the whole sentence sticking in his throat the whole way for how impossibly difficult it is to say. Irving feels as if, perhaps, he owes him at least that much honesty, for everything else Jack's so far offered him in return (in more ways than one), because it does genuinely feel good in a way Irving never thought sex actually could feel; as much as he's never wanted to "figure it out," right now that's all he wants, to feel and get his fill of all the specific sorts of pleasures he's deprived himself of for so long.
It makes a difference, pushing back while Jack is always pushing forward, magnifying the experience almost overwhelmingly so. His fingers dig into Jack's hair more deeply, gripping and pulling it as Irving rocks in place trying to match the pace Jack's set, all the while gasping and whining and clinging tight against the other man. ]
D-don't stop, [ Spoken between pants. ] Please don't stop.