[ This is admittedly past where he'd usually tarry, at least as the one in charge, and the more unknown it gets, the more he doubts himself.
But Olivine shows no signs of discomfort. Immense desire, even. He catches that shift and redirect of a hand. Good.
If the name is a slip up, then it is a fortunate one. Something about it grounds him, reminds him that he isn't just this role -- one he isn't particularly good at. It's the delivery, really, not something he thinks about, but something he craves. Being wanted, being good.
Maybe it's not the rules of this game, but he pulls his hand out before discarding his meager undergarment. It's...odd, feeling exposed like this. For a moment he tenses, ears straining for the sound of people in the hall. But he shakes his head to clear it, reaching for the lubricant. They won't be free if they don't finish with this, and it would be rude to leave Olivine in this situation without relief.
He doesn't even notice how his mind skirts around and consideration of his own want or need, even as he lathers his hardened cock in slick oil.
It's too bad, he realizes, that the harness he wears is not on Olivine. It would give him something to pull on and guide. Alas. He'll make do with the leash, pulling it taught so that Olivine's neck is cut into lightly.
He then takes Olivine's hips firmly, lining himself up and easing in. He can be rough in a moment; he isn't going to risk this doing damage, and he wants the other to adjust to him before he moves harder. ]
Will you be able to handle me until I've finished, Olivine?
[ Perhaps the first real question he's asked, though his finishing is no concern to him. Still, he holds the leash taught with one hand, the other digging into Olivine's flesh as he starts to rock, harder, faster. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-01-24 12:05 am (UTC)But Olivine shows no signs of discomfort. Immense desire, even. He catches that shift and redirect of a hand. Good.
If the name is a slip up, then it is a fortunate one. Something about it grounds him, reminds him that he isn't just this role -- one he isn't particularly good at. It's the delivery, really, not something he thinks about, but something he craves. Being wanted, being good.
Maybe it's not the rules of this game, but he pulls his hand out before discarding his meager undergarment. It's...odd, feeling exposed like this. For a moment he tenses, ears straining for the sound of people in the hall. But he shakes his head to clear it, reaching for the lubricant. They won't be free if they don't finish with this, and it would be rude to leave Olivine in this situation without relief.
He doesn't even notice how his mind skirts around and consideration of his own want or need, even as he lathers his hardened cock in slick oil.
It's too bad, he realizes, that the harness he wears is not on Olivine. It would give him something to pull on and guide. Alas. He'll make do with the leash, pulling it taught so that Olivine's neck is cut into lightly.
He then takes Olivine's hips firmly, lining himself up and easing in. He can be rough in a moment; he isn't going to risk this doing damage, and he wants the other to adjust to him before he moves harder. ]
Will you be able to handle me until I've finished, Olivine?
[ Perhaps the first real question he's asked, though his finishing is no concern to him. Still, he holds the leash taught with one hand, the other digging into Olivine's flesh as he starts to rock, harder, faster. ]
Will you let everyone know how good you feel?