"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."
The stretch coaxes a hiss out of Alfred, his hips winding...but then Herbert is talking. He's talking, and the words are sincere, sweet, so gentle and loving and caring.
Despite the situation, he finds the presence of mind to shift his restless grip on the free hand, holding it firmly against his still heart with both of his own slender, work-worn hands. He tears up a little bit, but not with pain, not at all.
"...That - that's so...so beautiful, my moonlight. You're...you're my everything. No matter what we are doing, how we are doing it I - ah - I love you. You make me feel...complete."
"Oh, mon cheri," Herbert sighs, and leans down to kiss him. As they kiss, he nudges a third finger against him. Silently asking permission to give Alfred more.
He takes one of Alfred's hands to kiss it, then gently pulls his hand away to reach for the oil again. For what they're going to do, he wants Alfred to be nice and relaxed and slick. So he gets a little more oil and spreads it around where his fingers are breaching Alfred's body.
Alfred hums a little into the kiss, happily - a noise that rises in pitch as he feels that third finger. While Herbert pulls back, fetches more oil, he shudders, wordlessly nodding his head and trying to still his hips.
The stretching is - it's a new feeling, but so far, something he's been relaxed enough to tolerate. Herbert is being very gentle, very sweet about it...and, well, he knows what he is doing.
So he lays there, head lolling back a little against the pillows as he waits to be pushed a little further still.
"Easy now, love. Just keep relaxing and enjoying yourself." The third finger gets worked in slowly next to the others, and he stays there for the moment, three fingers buried deep inside Alfred's body. Allowing his lover to adjust to the new sensation.
While he does, he strokes Alfred's hip gently, peppering his face with soft, sweet little kisses.
It's a funny sort of hiss that leaves Alfred at the slide of that third finger - his eyes shut for a moment, just to let himself focus on how it all feels. The stretch of himself, the sensation of being filled, the gentle touches and kisses that Herbert lays upon him.
It takes him a minute to let himself fully relax to it - and it's evident that he does when he rolls his hips very slowly, just once or twice, whimpering softly.
"Oh, my darling, I'm so glad you like it. I've been dying to do this for you for ages but I'll admit I'd been a little hesitant about shortening my nails." Still, they'll be nearly grown back by tomorrow night. He just hadn't done this in so very long that it feels so new to him, too.
Herbert hums his approval at the way Alfred rolls his hips, squeezing his thigh encouragingly. "Just like that, love. Move in whatever way feels good to you."
"I - mhhhnhhh - I'm glad you - you did," Alfred pants, trying to be coherent and beginning to fail at it. "Means a lot th-that you would...go...to the troubleeeAAAH-"
His words come to a halt as he tries a different movement, letting the three slender fingers hit him a little deeper. Instinctively, he starts to move a little more, the bucking of his hips trying to find a bit of a rhythm.
This is so new to him - but he likes it. He finds himself wanting more of it.
Oh, Hebert looks overjoyed. Like he just found a new toy and he can't wait to play with it all day. Or night, as it were.
He crooks his fingers just a little, keeping them against that spot deep inside Alfred to let him work himself against it. "It's alright if you finish, my darling. We can give you a breather afterwards before I make love to you properly."
Well, that's it. There's no coming back from that.
Herbert's motion, his words - they're rewarded with the sight of Alfred whining, the careful bucking quickly dissolving into desperate, writhing motions as he fucks himself on his lover's hand.
He's getting so CLOSE, he can feel it - and without even touching himself, despite the throbbing of his cock.
"H-Herbert," he whines, hands twining in the bedsheets to give him more leverage. "Oh, Herbert-"
He barely has to move his hand, with all the moving and squirming Alfred is doing against the bed. It's quite sight to see, and Herbert is enjoying every moment of it. He strokes his hand over Alfred's thigh, down to cup and squeeze his ass as Alfred thrusts against his hand.
"I love it when you stutter like that. It means I'm doing something that feels good to you."
In spite of the - situation - he is currently in, a lopsided little smile tugs at Alfred's lips. Herbert likes his stutter. Like so many other things he had been told were wrong about himself...Herbert loves those things.
"Feels - so good, it feels SO good," he whines, back starting to arch, thigh muscles and ass tensed under Herbert's hands. "Love - you-"
With a shuddering cry, he comes, spilling all over his own bare chest and abdomen until he relaxes again, trembling and panting through breaths he doesn't need.
And Herbert carefully takes his hand away and wraps him up in a tight embrace, letting him shudder and pant his way through the aftershocks of it all. "Now you see why I'm so demanding of you," he teases gently, nuzzling at Alfred's jaw. Pressing the softest of kisses to his neck. "That's how good it feels when you do it to me."
A little hiss escapes him as Herbert's fingers slide out - now that he's gotten used to the sensation, he feels...strangely empty. Calming (though, yes, still jolting through those aftershocks here and there), he twines himself around Herbert in return, feeling dazed enough that he rather absently tilts his head to give Herbert all the access he wants.
"Yes," he mumbles, voice a little hoarse. "Yes, it - oh it felt - I do understand now, why you like it. I...I like the thought...that I make you feel like that."
He could swear he's still seeing stars, after being touched in That Spot for the first time.
"Oh you do my love, you do. Every. Single. Time." He drops soft kisses to Alfred's neck and shoulder between words, smiling widely against his skin. He slides his fingers over Alfred's back, down to squeeze his ass playfully. "I love that you know, now. That you know why I'm always in your lap. Always pawing at you, pulling you into hallway corners or into my bed. Because it gets addictive, once you know how it feels."
Alfred purrs at the kisses, squirming a little under the tender caress that passes over his backside - and he giggles a little at the squeeze, breathlessly pressing back against Herbert's hand. Idly, he plays a little with the ends of his lover's hair, running slender fingers through it and watching the way it shines.
"I - yes. I can see how. I am...I think I am still...glad to give that to you, most of the time, but-" He swallows hard, mouth still dry from all his hissing and moaning.
"But this is...nice. And I...love you. And love learning this with you, every bit." He bites his lip a little, dragging his fang against it and dropping the volume of his voice to a sultry whisper. "And I...I know we aren't...quite done, either."
"Oh, you eager little thing," Herbert purrs, spidering his fingers over Alfred's sides. "No, we're not done yet. I would still love to make love to you.
That is," he says with a mock pout, "If you're not bored of me, yet."
The words make him groan softly, writhing a little under the hands against his ribcage. He would be a little embarrassed about just how eager he is...but he can't bring himself to be, not really, not anymore. He knows Herbert likes it.
"Never, Engel," he chuckles. "I could never be bored of you."
"In that case..." Herbert stretches out on top of Alfred, lying between his legs, their hips pressed together. One hand comes up to stroke his cheek tenderly as he presses a delicate kiss to his mouth. "Would you permit me to make love to you, my sun and stars?"
The feeling of his lover sprawling over his body, the firm weight of the larger man settling against him...they make him groan a little, a placid smile pulling at his lips even as he returns that soft kiss.
"Yes...yes, Herbert. Please. I would love for you to. I would - love to feel 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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Despite the situation, he finds the presence of mind to shift his restless grip on the free hand, holding it firmly against his still heart with both of his own slender, work-worn hands. He tears up a little bit, but not with pain, not at all.
"...That - that's so...so beautiful, my moonlight. You're...you're my everything. No matter what we are doing, how we are doing it I - ah - I love you. You make me feel...complete."
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He takes one of Alfred's hands to kiss it, then gently pulls his hand away to reach for the oil again. For what they're going to do, he wants Alfred to be nice and relaxed and slick. So he gets a little more oil and spreads it around where his fingers are breaching Alfred's body.
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The stretching is - it's a new feeling, but so far, something he's been relaxed enough to tolerate. Herbert is being very gentle, very sweet about it...and, well, he knows what he is doing.
So he lays there, head lolling back a little against the pillows as he waits to be pushed a little further still.
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While he does, he strokes Alfred's hip gently, peppering his face with soft, sweet little kisses.
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It's a funny sort of hiss that leaves Alfred at the slide of that third finger - his eyes shut for a moment, just to let himself focus on how it all feels. The stretch of himself, the sensation of being filled, the gentle touches and kisses that Herbert lays upon him.
It takes him a minute to let himself fully relax to it - and it's evident that he does when he rolls his hips very slowly, just once or twice, whimpering softly.
"Mmnh, this - this is - oh, Herbert-"
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Herbert hums his approval at the way Alfred rolls his hips, squeezing his thigh encouragingly. "Just like that, love. Move in whatever way feels good to you."
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His words come to a halt as he tries a different movement, letting the three slender fingers hit him a little deeper. Instinctively, he starts to move a little more, the bucking of his hips trying to find a bit of a rhythm.
This is so new to him - but he likes it. He finds himself wanting more of it.
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He crooks his fingers just a little, keeping them against that spot deep inside Alfred to let him work himself against it. "It's alright if you finish, my darling. We can give you a breather afterwards before I make love to you properly."
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Herbert's motion, his words - they're rewarded with the sight of Alfred whining, the careful bucking quickly dissolving into desperate, writhing motions as he fucks himself on his lover's hand.
He's getting so CLOSE, he can feel it - and without even touching himself, despite the throbbing of his cock.
"H-Herbert," he whines, hands twining in the bedsheets to give him more leverage. "Oh, Herbert-"
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"I love it when you stutter like that. It means I'm doing something that feels good to you."
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"Feels - so good, it feels SO good," he whines, back starting to arch, thigh muscles and ass tensed under Herbert's hands. "Love - you-"
With a shuddering cry, he comes, spilling all over his own bare chest and abdomen until he relaxes again, trembling and panting through breaths he doesn't need.
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"Yes," he mumbles, voice a little hoarse. "Yes, it - oh it felt - I do understand now, why you like it. I...I like the thought...that I make you feel like that."
He could swear he's still seeing stars, after being touched in That Spot for the first time.
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"I - yes. I can see how. I am...I think I am still...glad to give that to you, most of the time, but-" He swallows hard, mouth still dry from all his hissing and moaning.
"But this is...nice. And I...love you. And love learning this with you, every bit." He bites his lip a little, dragging his fang against it and dropping the volume of his voice to a sultry whisper. "And I...I know we aren't...quite done, either."
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That is," he says with a mock pout, "If you're not bored of me, yet."
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"Never, Engel," he chuckles. "I could never be bored of you."
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"Yes...yes, Herbert. Please. I would love for you to. I would - love to feel you."