All those little kisses and nibbles and touches are building, leaving Alfred flushed across the chest and shoulders when he's finally bared. He smiles sweetly, letting Herbert have the reins this time, even moreso than normal.
His hands move to his lover's bare chest, tracing the lines of his pecs, his collarbone. Softly. Learning the shapes, again and again.
"I'm going to be ever so gentle with you tonight," he promises, pushing a stray curl off Alfred's face and kissing his forehead. "Only the softest of touches. And you must swear to tell me to stop, if it's too much. I only want to make you feel good."
"I will, I promise I will," he murmurs, leaning into the kiss, grinning around his crooked little fangs. "I trust you. I...I want to try this. I really do."
"Why don't you finish undressing and hop onto the bed, and I'll meet you there in a moment, hmm?" He tickles under Alfred's chin and nipping his lower lip lightly. He finds those crooked little fangs adorable.
Nodding in agreement - a little too enthusiastic, maybe, after that nip at his lower lip - he obediently works himself out of his trousers, his stockings, and then his briefs, neatly setting them all off to one side. (Tidy, almost always so tidy.)
Climbing onto the bed, he waits there, watching Herbert and twiddling his fingers together with nerves.
Sometimes, he just wants to look at Alfred. Now is one of those times. Naked, hard, spread out on the bed. All for him to take.
Herbert strips quickly and grabs the oil, kneeling between Alfred's legs and starting to oil his fingers up. "Tell me when you need a break, all right?"
This is...well, it's new, and he can't help but be a bit nervous. He trusts Herbert, of course, deeply and dearly, but...there is still a lot he is getting over, in terms of personal repression. It's a challenge.
But he's also excited, watching his lover with wide eyes, licking his lips absently.
"...Yes, I - of course, my moonlight." Almost whispered.
He slicks three of his fingers up and reaches between Alfred's thighs to circle a fingertip around his entrance. Both testing the waters and making sure Alfred is slick, as well.
His free hand rests against Alfred's chest, above his heart. Feeling the coolness of his skin and the sculpted muscle of his pecs.
Edited (vampires don't have heartbeats) 2022-02-20 07:28 (UTC)
He doesn't need to breathe, he doesn't - sometimes his lungs actually protest how much he still does so out of pure habit; but still he gasps as he feels Herbert's finger traces around him. The feeling of getting slicked down makes him groan, hips twitching as he struggles against the impulse to squirm.
But he holds still. He holds still, and he waits, one hand wrapping over Herbert's on his chest.
"You're doing wonderfully, my love," he purrs and carefully working his finger into Alfred, then holds his hand still. Letting Alfred get used to the intrusion. Letting his love's body relax a little.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips, thinking about how if all goes well, he could very well be inside Alfred tonight.
The yelp isn't one of pain - just reflex, his head lolling back as he breathes through the feeling. He had tried to do this before, like he had said...but he hadn't gotten very far at all with it before shame had made him abandon the idea.
But having someone else do this, having HERBERT do this...he whimpers, softly and sweetly, skin all flushed red.
"That - oh, Engel-"
He's not...quite coherent. But perhaps that's not a surprise.
"Well that is a good sign." He starts moving his hand in slow, even strokes. Rocking in and out of Alfred's body, his eyes trained on Alfred's face. Watching carefully for any potential flinches or cringes.
The sensation is new, but after a few strokes, he starts to calm a little - Herbert will no doubt feel him start to relax a little around his hand, his expression slowly moving from taut with nerves to lax with pleasure.
It feels good, and there's no shame in that for him. He feels safe, he feels loved.
"I - I like it," he groans in a way that suggests that is rather an understatement.
"Well I'm glad to hear that." He reaches up with his free hand to stroke Alfred's cheek, pleased to feel him relaxing a little. To see him enjoying himself.
He keeps at that pace, patient and steady, eager to show Alfred more but not wanting to rush him, either.
Obediently, he nuzzles the hand against his cheek - one of those catlike little moments from the younger vampire, when he's got his guard down, when he's at peace with things.
Experimentally, he rocks his hips a little - just a little - swallowing hard at the feeling of being stretched a little. He's beginning to understand why Herbert likes this, now, and he resolves to bear all these feelings in mind the next time their positions are reversed.
"There you are. Yes, move however makes you feel good. Move how your body tells you to." He nudges his second finger against Alfred's entrance. Just barely nudging.
He hisses a little as he tries rocking just a little harder - it doesn't quite hurt, but there's almost a burn to it, something that makes him grasp at the bedsheets. He bites his lip for a moment, shivering, and then -
His voice rises in a high whine at the intrusion - his hands clench, thighs shaking a little as he tries to adjust. Once the moment of initial tension passes, Alfred's hips twitch again, seeking some sort of friction against his erection and finding none.
The long pause between the whine and Alfred actually being able to speak again is a good sign. It means he's enjoying himself, which is clear from the expression on his face, the way that his hips twitch.
"Tell me, my love," Herbert croons, curling his fingers just so. "Will you want me to make love to you tonight? Or would you prefer just my fingers."
The curl of Herbert's fingers nearly makes Alfred see spots - it's a sensation he has never felt before, and it has him immediately rolling his hips, trying to get More of it. When he remembers how to speak after a moment or two, he, looks down at Herbert, face completely flushed, jaw taut through another moan before he manages a reply.
"I - I want - I want...to feel you. Yes. I - ah! - I want for you t-to take me. P-please."
Ah yes, there it is, he's found just the right spot. He beams, pleased with himself and with Alfred's delectable reactions. He curls his fingers again, rubbing back and forth over that spot just to drive Alfred a little higher, wind him a little tighter.
"Then I will more than happily make love to you, mon cheri," he purrs, stroking the fingers of his free hand over Alfred's chest. "I haven't been with anyone like that in over a hundred years. I'm delighted to share that experience with you."
And wind him tighter he most certainly is - the rubbing is rewarded with panting, with twitching, with Alfred's hands not really knowing where to go or what to do and clutching desperately at the bedsheets, at his lover. The pleasure pulsing through him is white hot, making him squirm and writhe in ways he has no control over whatsoever.
The admission that Herbert hasn't topped in over a CENTURY snaps him out of it for just a moment, a look of wonder crossing his face amidst the desire...but the fact that he is willing to do this, willing to step away from his habits for Alfred's sake?
It makes him feel special. Loved.
His hands meet the hand wandering over his chest, pulling it up so that he can kiss the back of it, the palm. "I - I would love that, Engel. I - hnnnn - I want to understand what...what you feel...when I'm making love to you...."
"When you make love to me..." Herbert muses, spreading his fingers wide and twisting them to stretch Alfred further. His expressions softens to something a little more thoughtful. Quietly adoring.
"When you make love to me, everything in the universe narrows down to just us. To all the places our bodies meet. You become the only thing in the world that I could possibly be bothered to care about.
And you make me feel so -- so full. Physically, yes, but emotionally too. Like there's no space in me left for anything but you."
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But this? This is quite fun, too.
It takes him a bit, between kisses and nibbles, but eventually he does manage to devest the both of them of their shirts.
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All those little kisses and nibbles and touches are building, leaving Alfred flushed across the chest and shoulders when he's finally bared. He smiles sweetly, letting Herbert have the reins this time, even moreso than normal.
His hands move to his lover's bare chest, tracing the lines of his pecs, his collarbone. Softly. Learning the shapes, again and again.
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Climbing onto the bed, he waits there, watching Herbert and twiddling his fingers together with nerves.
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Herbert strips quickly and grabs the oil, kneeling between Alfred's legs and starting to oil his fingers up. "Tell me when you need a break, all right?"
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But he's also excited, watching his lover with wide eyes, licking his lips absently.
"...Yes, I - of course, my moonlight." Almost whispered.
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His free hand rests against Alfred's chest, above his heart. Feeling the coolness of his skin and the sculpted muscle of his pecs.
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But he holds still. He holds still, and he waits, one hand wrapping over Herbert's on his chest.
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His tongue darts out to wet his lips, thinking about how if all goes well, he could very well be inside Alfred tonight.
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The yelp isn't one of pain - just reflex, his head lolling back as he breathes through the feeling. He had tried to do this before, like he had said...but he hadn't gotten very far at all with it before shame had made him abandon the idea.
But having someone else do this, having HERBERT do this...he whimpers, softly and sweetly, skin all flushed red.
"That - oh, Engel-"
He's not...quite coherent. But perhaps that's not a surprise.
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Oh, his boy blushes so beautifully.
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It feels good, and there's no shame in that for him. He feels safe, he feels loved.
"I - I like it," he groans in a way that suggests that is rather an understatement.
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He keeps at that pace, patient and steady, eager to show Alfred more but not wanting to rush him, either.
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Experimentally, he rocks his hips a little - just a little - swallowing hard at the feeling of being stretched a little. He's beginning to understand why Herbert likes this, now, and he resolves to bear all these feelings in mind the next time their positions are reversed.
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"When you're ready, tell me."
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He hisses a little as he tries rocking just a little harder - it doesn't quite hurt, but there's almost a burn to it, something that makes him grasp at the bedsheets. He bites his lip for a moment, shivering, and then -
"...I'm - I think I'm ready. P-please."
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"Still feeling good, my love?"
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It takes him a minute before he can even speak.
"Y-yes - ah - yes, it's...it feels...it feels good...."
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"Tell me, my love," Herbert croons, curling his fingers just so. "Will you want me to make love to you tonight? Or would you prefer just my fingers."
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The curl of Herbert's fingers nearly makes Alfred see spots - it's a sensation he has never felt before, and it has him immediately rolling his hips, trying to get More of it. When he remembers how to speak after a moment or two, he, looks down at Herbert, face completely flushed, jaw taut through another moan before he manages a reply.
"I - I want - I want...to feel you. Yes. I - ah! - I want for you t-to take me. P-please."
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"Then I will more than happily make love to you, mon cheri," he purrs, stroking the fingers of his free hand over Alfred's chest. "I haven't been with anyone like that in over a hundred years. I'm delighted to share that experience with you."
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The admission that Herbert hasn't topped in over a CENTURY snaps him out of it for just a moment, a look of wonder crossing his face amidst the desire...but the fact that he is willing to do this, willing to step away from his habits for Alfred's sake?
It makes him feel special. Loved.
His hands meet the hand wandering over his chest, pulling it up so that he can kiss the back of it, the palm. "I - I would love that, Engel. I - hnnnn - I want to understand what...what you feel...when I'm making love to you...."
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"When you make love to me, everything in the universe narrows down to just us. To all the places our bodies meet. You become the only thing in the world that I could possibly be bothered to care about.
And you make me feel so -- so full. Physically, yes, but emotionally too. Like there's no space in me left for anything but you."
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