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@conorhbu
A laugh bubbled from the prince’s chest, his first real one since waking. Cindy was quite the woman and Ben absolutely adored her, thinking of her as one of his favorite people — even if their meetings had never been any longer than a full twenty minutes. However, he honestly did enjoy her hat, though he was quite akin to seeing them and not liking them would just make things difficult, so he obviously took the easier root. “Best bird’s nest I’ve seen today, then.” His arms crossed over his chest, glancing around a little impatiently to try and find the other male, wanting some form of normality — something his life generally lacked if Conor wasn’t around. The moment the woman hollered out the prince’s gaze shot up, honestly rather surprised, thanking the heavens that his mother hadn’t been around for that. His eyes widened just slightly more than they had been previously, but he adverted his gaze, not too long before a snicker caused his cheeks to puff out just slightly. Looking up when a new pair of shoes joined in, he smiled once more, eyes ravishing over his boyfriend as he hardly paid mind to what he was saying to his mother. It was a bad habit, zoning out until he was actually addressed, but as a kid he was always taught that he should do just that; but now things were getting a little different. He was supposed to listen, but his habit wasn’t anything near close to being broken.
Coming back to he quickly shook his head. “Course not, my mum would have me out for it — today she’s have me out for just about anything, but nonetheless. She wasn’t that bad, now was she? Oh, let’s be honest, they probably do, if you pay enough attention you’ll hear all sorts of shit statements floating around; chances are nobody believes a single thing. Gossip, s’all it is.” Rather boldly he grabbed his lover’s hand, running his thumb over the paler knuckle. “You found food? I think you should lead the way — haven’t ate and I’m absolutely starving.” In all honesty he was hungry, but he wasn’t as much worried about that as he was getting to have a few minutes to at least talk to the blond before someone pulled him away for something that he had no cares about. Looking up to the other’s mother, he gave a small nod. “Thanks for coming out today, it’s rather amazing having you here. By the way, gran will be over that way,” he gave a point to the place the Queen was normally found, “tell her you’re Conor’s mum, I think she’s been wanting to meet you — well I know she has.” With a small nod of his head he didn’t plan on wasting any more time, pulling lightly on Conor’s head and pulling him back the way he came, in hopes that he’d take the lead and show him to the food.
"It's no problem, really -- it was Conor's father that had us dressed up and dragged all the way to this little Island," his mother confessed, nodding her head a little bit. She didn't mind half as much as she led on, but she wasn't very fond of planes and had quite the episode on the way over to England. The blond didn't care to mention his mothers behavior -- or interrupt the tiny conversation. His attention was falling on those around them, trying to make sure that nobody was trying to eavesdrop into their conversation or that anybody would come and interrupt them. There were a few of Conor's friends mulling about the party and he had already seen them giving him a few, knowing looks. It wasn't until Ben grabbed his hand that Conor re-entered into the conversation. His gaze fell on his mum who had only heard a second later which way the Queen was; her head popped up among the other hats and she looked like a meerkat coming out of a hole. Conor leaned into Ben, trying his hardest not to laugh at how excited his mum looked and sounded when she spoke, "she wants to meet me? Conor, where's your father?" He hardly had any time before his mum was pushing past him and trying to escape their conversation and find her way towards the Queen. "I don't want to know why she wanted to meet your gran," Conor stated, shaking his head, "probably wants approval to drag England into a collision with Ireland, or something." Without much thought, he started towards the food table he had come from only moments before. When he managed to squeeze his way through, he set the plate he had down and started picking up the food that he recalled enjoying. Finally, he let his attention fall onto Ben, his smile rather fond as he spoke in a sing-song voice, "I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. -- S'about we blow this popsicle stand for a bit, huh? Doubt anybody would miss us." He looked back at the crowd for a moment, catching the glimpse of only a few passerbys. Nobody that he knew.
Buckingham Palace was all a-tizzy with preparations, it had been since last Tuesday, but as far as the Benjamin was concerned: today was utter hell. Of course, it always was during any event, but somehow the garden party that kicked off the summer was the one that had everyone acting like they had just gotten new batteries. Wanting to avoid it all he took to his room all morning, trying on outfits until his mother stormed in, tossing him the one she picked out and he had forgotten about, not to mention she made sure to give a speech. “Benjamin Frederick, there will be no kissing while you’re in line, you got me? Wait to sneak off and make out with Con,” He had almost shuddered at the nickname, not enjoying it, but he wasn’t going to speak up when his mother was being stern, instead he just nodded and gave small ‘mhm’s to each command that she gave, in the end acting as if he were interested in whichever hat she and her sister had planned to wear, matching no doubt. By the time he was in line he was zoned out, as well as he could be anyway. It was difficult, he wanted to ask so many things of the people that were coming through to shake hands with his family, but any time he tried his brother would stomp his toes or his mother would politely butt in. Shake. Smile. Be Polite. Manners. Wave. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. That’s all it was to him, and he almost hardly noted when Conor was at his brother. Never failing though, his voice popped the bubble his mind had made and allowed his smile to become real. “Pleasure’s all mine, Conor Kelly.” His eyebrow cocked a little, excited to have at least one person here, other than Ollie and Cat who were sure to try and pull him away.
Still going through a treacherous line of people he zoned back out, this time thoughts of his blond lover bouncing in his head. Thirty minutes later his father tapped on his shoulder, telling him that Charlie and he could just slip out, they had suffered through enough. With the utmost politeness he excused himself and his twin from the line, muttering something along the lines of, “Keep Ollie and Cat away for as long as possible.” Before trying to find his boyfriend in the mess of hats and colors. It took three wrong tries before finding Conor’s mother, but when he did he looked up at her a little wide eyed, “Conner around? I love your hat, by the way; my favorite — don’t tell my mum I said that. She’d have my head for it.”
Stupidly, the blond had forgotten to take note what hat his mother had been wearing before he excused himself from her running about the garden, looking for the Queen. He had wandered away and began looking around the grounds as if he hadn't seen them more than once before. Eventually he came to an opening in the midst of hats, open long enough so that he could see the refreshment table. He made a mad dash for it, stopping quickly when he almost bumped into somebody. "Sorry," he spoke quietly as he picked up a small plate and began filling it with small bits of food. Eventually he found himself at the end of the table, stuffing foods into his mouth as he watched the party moving around him. It was strange, he thought, how they all moved in one giant wave, as if nothing else in the world mattered. Perhaps nothing did matter. A lot of them were well off. Nothing more to worry about than 'what if that hat looks like mine'. He snickered a bit before letting his head lull a bit. That's about the time that he heard a familiar voice pick up. It was his mothers, and she was talking rather loudly. "You're a sweet boy; Conor told me it looked as if a bird planted a nest on top of my head -- " she leaned forward a bit, as if she was telling a secret. "And between you and me, I think the same thing." When she lifted her head again, she looked around the party; standing on the tips of her toes to see overs piles of hats. Not too subtly, she shouted Conor's name above the noise. The blond followed the voice -- moving through the crowd a bit more nervously than he regularly would have, completely aware of the opinion of others; he was nothing more than a common boy, suited in a stuffy costume. When he finally spotted his mother, it didn't take long for him to spot Ben. Coming behind his shrieking mother and boyfriend, he held the plate up, completely aware of other people watching. "Mum, we're at a party, not a derby match." He let a hand raise to his mouth, as if he was shushing her. He still let out a laugh though, not caring much more than that. A moment later, he turned his attention to Ben; small smile tugging the corners of his lips as he focused on the male, speaking only loud enough for him to hear, "you didn't encourage her turning into a banshee, did you babe? Reckon they'd start calling the Irish absolutely mad."
On the rare occasion that the Kelly family be invited to Buckingham Palace, each of them wore something suitable for a party. In Conor's opinion, he thought they were dressed in stuffy clothes and couldn't quite understand why his mum had worn a hat as large as the one sat on her head. But he didn't question it, not fully understanding the competition of hats he was about to walk into. When he got out of the car, he followed behind his mother through the grand entry way (that never looked quite as grand as it did at that moment) and smiled at people waiting at the door to greet whoever walked in. He assumed that they were supposed to be lined up, greeting people into their home. Sighing deeply, he followed his parents down the line of people, shaking their hands as well, figuring it would be rude not to. He'd hardly noticed when he had gotten far enough down the line to find Ben's family. It wasn't that he was completely dazed; he was still listening to what his mum said. It wasn't until he looked up to who he was shaking hands with that he realized it was Ben. Conor lit up a little before he copied his mum, "Prince Benjamin. Pleasure."
It wasn't long before Conor had shaken the hand of Ben's family, then made his way fully down the line and was able to branch off and into the abundance of hats. All in which he was quick to get lost in -- not to say that he didn't stick close to his mum, who seemed to have made it her mission to find the Queen.
S&M → Valentine's Day.
Making literally no effort toward trying to cuddle up with his boyfriend he just sat in his sex hungover haze, licking over his lips. He didn’t mind the time between the question and answer, it was something he kind of loved. They were both tired now, sticky, and close — gross, but definitely comforting and nice. The words back a little pout push at his lips, almost forming a glare at the blond at his side, but he couldn’t muster it up. Instead he moved to get a little closer, resting his head on the boy’s, letting out another laugh. He wasn’t much sure his words would be completely noted, Conor seemed very much asleep, but he said them anyway, like an after thought. “Reckon I’ll have to seduce you before then.” And that was it. Pressing a kiss to his lover’s forehead he laid back, a please smile on his lips before his eyes fluttered shut.
When there was nothing to be said, Conor didn't dare open his mouth. His body heavy with sleep, he moved a bit from the sticky mess of the others body, but didn't move quite far enough. Before he could think of how he needed to clean himself before he woke up the next morning (no doubt to his mum barging in and getting more than an eye full), he fell into a light sleep without a single care in the world.
S&M → Valentine's Day.
Lips wanting to upturn into a pout he looked down when we felt an emptiness at his backside, realizing then that it would have needed to happen anyway. He was intent on watching the hand on his boyfriend, teeth chewing on the side of his cheek. It was very attractive, all of this had been, but he couldn’t help his never ending fascination with the way his boyfriend moved when he hit his high. Emerald orbs just ran over the pale skin, hand, up his arm, collar bones, neck, jaw, lips — fucking beautiful lips, to his eyes, all closed with pleasure. A chill sent down his spine, an accidental moan slipping out when his boyfriend finally peaked. A pleased laugh pressed from him when Conor was laying over him, his mind still clouded with everything that just unfolded. His lips were pressed in a fond grin, eyes trained up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling a little harder than normal. He hadn’t bothered with looking over yet, not knowing what to say, not until it left his lips as his head fell to the side, looking over his boyfriend. “Wh-When do we get to do that again?” Sure it was probably the most innocent thing he’d ever blurted, but he was serious; that was the best thing he’d ever felt and wanted it again, all with Conor. Because that Irish boy was his and for once he was going to take advantage of it.
The lazy smile that laid across his face only grew larger when Ben finally broke the silence between them. He made a small effort to move his shoulders a bit to show that he had been listening. Conor used the last bit of his arm strength to lift himself off of Ben, only to snuggle into his side when he settled back down. He let out a small puff of air that he hardly realized he had been holding before he let his eyes shut. A small sound came from his mouth, as if he were trying to form words without using his brain--finally, he managed something that made a bit of sense. "Yer coronation. M'made to please the King." Conor opened his eyes to steal a glance at Ben. He let a soft laugh escape him before he let his eyes fall shut again.
S&M → Valentine's Day.
He’d never felt so completely selfish before, never wanted to feel total pleasure like this, but it was all he was thinking about. Ben had all of twenty, almost twenty-one years to feel a want as strong as thing, but nothing came close. His lower stomach ached, harder and harder and he knew what was going to happen, but he was doing everything he could to hold it off, to feel this for just a little longer. Listening to Conor he tried calming down, but it only made it worse, so much worse. Those curses, the accent, praises, moans, it was all too hot and the prince’s mind was having a party, starting to push him on the edge. No, he couldn’t, not yet, he needed to wait. He focused on himself, that didn’t help a damn thing. He was in flames, tingling all over, writhing over the sheet on Conor’s bed. This was fighting a loosing battle and the moment the blond wrapped his fingers around him — it was game over. He lasted just a few strokes before letting out a grunt, his hips very reflexively pushing upward at his lover’s hand, spurts slipping from his tip. “C-Conor — so good — fuck. W-Want you t-to… j-just…” There was no point in words so he stopped, letting out a whine, hoping the boy would follow right after him.
Breathing wasn't optional anymore. The blond felt his heart beating quickly as his mind focused on chasing the feeling that was beginning to take over his insides. He forgot to breathe for short spurts of time and when he did, every sound he made came out in short gasps. He felt Ben tense underneath him and he let his hand speed up only a bit. A short string of curses fled from his lips when he felt the warm substance between them. Bottom lip abused by his teeth, Conor sped up only a bit; his hand let go of Ben, knowing the boy underneath him would grow sensitive. It only took a moment before he was pulling out, something he did after an argument he had with himself, and let his hand replace not a second later. Eyes closing tightly as the feeling took over his body, Conor let out a low moan with the prince's name laced into it. The moment he was gone, he let his arms give out and rested halfway on top of Ben; his poor attempt to land on the bed next to the boy, but not having enough energy or strength left to do so. Skin sticky to the touch, Conor worked up the energy to move a bit more off of the boy. He stayed silent for a moment, basking in the pure satisfaction. His lips quirked into a lazy smile and he turned his head to gaze at Ben.
Annual Ireland and England meeting takes place on March 25th, 2014 - Conor Kelly, son of Irelands presidant and boyfriend to Prince of England, pays his respects to the Queen.
S&M → Valentine's Day.
Though it had taken too long for his liking, he was slowly getting used to the added member inside of him, growing fond at the way it all felt. It was very obvious, you see, because by this point his lips were parted and low moans were pushing from the back of his throat and out. If he had any actual control of his thoughts at the time he would have loved the way his voice and Conor’s managed to mix; it would have been one of thing he wished he were talented enough to write about, but it simply went ignored. The only thing he could actually focus on was the pain that had just subsided into pure pleasure. His head was reeling and he hadn’t realized that this level of euphoria was actually real; he knew what it felt like when they had fooled around, but nothing; absolutely nothing, could dare to compete with this. His hand moved up, running up Conor’s stomach to his chest, finally settling on his shoulder and pulling him toward him a bit, more out of instinct than anything. “F-Feels am-amazing — Conor, faster.” Was all he actually managed that had any significance, everything else was profanities and his name. His tongue flicked over his lip, trying to keep it wet, but it only kept drying out with the hot breaths that managed to come out hot and come in hotter, his chest burning from it, but in the best way he could imagine. He was almost writhing under him, his back arching up and off the bed in a desperate attempt to be closer, something he wasn’t much aware that he wanted, but his body was.
The blond had once read in a book that time was a slut but in this moment, the blond hardly understood what they had meant; his time slowing to a stop and the only thing keeping himself going was the unsteady heart pounding in his chest. He tried to keep his breathing steady for the sake of both of them, but his mind was becoming clouded with his own wants and needs-- his hips moving faster than before, even without command. Occasionally, he would snap out of his own world to gaze at the boy underneath him; Ben was beautiful. There wasn't a damned thing in the world that could convince him otherwise. His lips turned up in a foolish grin when he heard the request and nodded, but in consciousness, he only moved his hips a bit faster, not wanting to harm the other boy. When he felt his insides heating up and his body tensing a bit more than it had before, Conor knew what was coming. He didn't want it to come. He fought against it; slowed his hips and bit at his bottom lip. Finally, he cursed quietly and let his hand fall between the two bodies. He found a grip along Ben's member and gave it strokes that matched the snap of his hips.
Typewriter Series #103
217 letters that Conor never sent Benjamin.
Letter number 157 || November.
S&M → Valentine's Day.
With his refute already piecing together in his mind, he was ready to recite the fact that he was ready, the look on Conor’s face gave away that he was going deny him. So, it came by surprise when his fingers pulled out from Ben; causing a small purr to lurch from his lips. He let his legs fall, ignoring the new feeling that sat between his legs, he wasn’t used to being relaxed like that, but he wasn’t complaining. "I-I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life." He lied, in actuality he had been way more prepared for things; what he meant to way was that he hadn’t wanted anything more than he had this. Moving with the blond was nearly effortless at this point, just knowing that he was that close to him, completely prepared to press into him. Pushed up on his elbows once again he enjoyed the presses to his skin, letting each little bit of caress set his stomach a-flutter and cause his mind to ignite with thoughts that were surprisingly raunchier than they had been a moment ago. Each one designed around the blond and each way he could ever take the brunet. His eyes managed to flutter shut, more little cries dropping from him, only stopping when their lips had found one another for that short moment. It was something Benjamin would never get used to; having his mouth fall from the other’s. He never wanted it to happen, because he only wanted to be that close to his lover every second of every day; despite how inconceivable that idea was. The comment was only returned with a soft mewl and a darker red on his cheeks. Knowing that Conor was over him and thinking of him as an attractive being was just unfathomable at that point, he was very aware of the glossy skin he wore, hair that had to have been disheveled, but he couldn’t bring himself to consider ugly, because his boyfriend said it was good. He hadn’t realized that he should have helped adjust himself around, but when he did there was a tiny chuckle from his throat as he moved, making sure to get comfortable, even though he was almost positive that it didn’t matter what position he started out in. "Mhm, good." His words were soft, almost something that would have been said by the Ben back in Barbados, quiet and shy. His head only nodded when he was ready for more, nervous breaths coming in and shakey ones pulling out. Choking a little from the sting of pain that shot through him he shook his head, his brows knitting together while he did his best to relax and adjust, knowing that tightening up would only make things bad for them. Both hands shot up to grip at Conor’s biceps, demanding something to hold onto to keep him calm. The raw feeling that came from this made his thinking stop completely, which was only a blessing for him. After finally finding it in himself to push up toward his lover he peeked his eyes open, searching over him. “Y-You can move,” had been the only brilliant words he could say, but he wasn’t too worried about saying anything else just yet, knowing that in a few moment his mouth would be full of sinful comments.
The small requests for the others body to relax a bit more seemed ridiculous falling from the Irish boys mouth when all he could do it tense his body and try to push the dark sky that threatened to take his vision, away from his mind; spots of stars still made it through his vision, making it harder for him to breathe. The little cries emitting from the boy underneath him made him pause momentarily as if he thought he were bringing harm to the other. He would pause for exceeded amounts of time before continuing. When he lifted a hand from the bed, he thought he was going to collapse over; he felt weak and shaky, but when he didn't, he let his hand rest on the one that gripped his arm. "You're doing so good," he commented. He was watching Ben through lazy lids that matched the smile on his lips. Occasionally, his lips would find the other skin; leaving small, reassuring kisses over the others skin. His body was still tense and the beating in his ears was steadily increasing, but he still worked on listening to every command of the prince; paid steady mind to everytime Ben would tense then relax undearneath him. When the statement reached Conor's ears, he couldn't believe his own senses; he stared at the other for a brief second before he confirmed that he had heard correctly. The hand he had lifted to reassure Ben for a few minutes, found a firm spot on the bed again and he shifted around only a bit, knowing he shouldn't move too much without being ready. Still, soundless breaths would push past his lips everytime he moved even a bit inside of Ben; he thought he was pathetic for not being able to keep his composure, but he hardly cared at this point. When he was ready he drew his hips back slowly. "Relax, baby -- you're alright." Everytime he would draw his hips out a bit further, he would let them snap back a second later a bit faster than the last; he kept at it until he was at a steadily increasing pace. His shoulders were still tense and his body was beginning to feel like it was set on fire. It wasn't an abnormal feeling -- it simply carried more feeling than it had with anybody else. Moans were bubbling in his throat, finding their way into the open air. He was anything but embarassed at how easily he started to relax with his movements. "So good -- so tight." He didn't mean to blurt it out, it just sort of did. He didn't redden though. He hardly noticed his words with how many profanities were leaking from his lips.
S&M → Valentine's Day.
Laying there in utter, mind-numbing bliss, Benjamin wasn’t capable of many things. He could only whine and whimper each time Conor’s finger hit a spot that felt excellent, wince when a new finger was added, but most importantly he could only focus on the breathing that came from the other. That was keeping him down to earth, because without that he’d very probably be a mess on the bed, not knowing which way was up. His chest rose and fell in very uneven manners, faster each time a movement was tried out, slower when he adjusted, and faster again when he was feeling pure ecstasy in its simplest form. It didn’t make much sense to him how this was able to put him on cloud nine, mainly because this wasn’t even supposed to be the pleasing part. Swallowing hard he finally looked up, glancing through heavy eyelids to see the most amazing sight he’d ever been graced with. Conor was amazing and Ben would say that every day until he died, but this was different. It was him seeing his lover be incredibly caring and considerate in a manner he didn’t think was humanly possible. As he went to speak the only thing that slipped out was a desperate moan, which caused him to feel a little embarrassed, but he pushed past it, taking a deep breath before trying again. "F-Feels so good, b-but I need you; bad." He didn’t care it if was impatient or if begging for the blond now would only make it harder on himself, it’s what he wanted and he wasn’t planning on waiting much longer. "I-I know you’re just getting me ready, but please, baby?" Biting on his lip he made sure to keep quite the next moan that threatened to bubble in his throat.
The blond wanted to let the minutes tick by and for the moment to imprint in his mind but he was steadily growing uncomfortable and couldn't do much more than rid his thoughts enough to keep his wrist flicking at a steady pace. Still, he couldn't help but admire the way that Ben's back would arch off the bed and his body would shift down as if he were wanting more; becoming a beautiful mess on the bed. Blue eyes traced down the others body -- he knew almost every part of it and yearned for the day that he'd know it all like he knew the back of his hand. His tongue poked out to wet his lips as he listened to the others broken moans. Conor settled his free hand on Ben's side, trying to keep him from pushing farther from the bed as he listened to the request. He twisted his face into an expression to show that he was going to say no -- that Ben wasn't ready, but the truth be told, he wouldn't have said no. Not to Ben. He slid his digits out carefully and let long legs fall from his shoulders. While his hands roamed the bed, he spoke up, "you're sure you're ready?" He picked up the packaged condom and opened it carefully. He worked it onto himself; eyes flickering to look over Ben for a moment. The loud thumping in the blond's ears had come to suddenly that he thought somebody was at the door but he was quick to dismiss it as his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He found his place again before he pushed legs apart. Settling between them, he didn't bring legs up to wrap around his shoulders again, but rather leaned forward and planted soft kisses to whatever exposed skin he could find until he reached Ben's lips. He kissed him for a moment and when he pulled away, he smiled. "You look so good." He couldn't find the words to explain how he saw Ben; how he knew he'd never love anybody else for the rest of his life. After he gave another kiss, he broke it then sat up. He lifted the others legs up and positioned himself (with a fair bit of fumbling and an awkward groping of himself.) "Good?" He questioned. Though he may have received a response from Ben first, he waited until his heart beat was settling down just a bit. Swallowing hard and holding his breath, he pushed in a bit -- but not enough to cause any discomfort for Ben. He waited for the go-ahead before he moved again. He kept waiting until he bottomed out. Trying to keep a straight composure, he let his breath go before breathing another in. "Fuck." His features were blushed with pink and his brows were furrowed.
S&M → Valentine's Day.
Nerves rippled through the older male, but luckily for him: he could conceal it. The moment Conor started to initiate things a little bit of his nerve started to melt away, leading to a small grin pushing at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t worried about any of this; he knew what would happen, knew that it wouldn’t be the most pleasant feeling for the first bit of it; but he also knew, or more assumed, that it’d feel better near the end of it. His lips easily pressed back against the boy’s, no thinking about it as he nodded his head to the question. "Absolutely. Don’t think I’d be too much good giving it… just yet, anyway." He was near the verge of relaxed, calming himself down as well as he could at this point, small breaths in from his nose, going out of his mouth. Moving as the boy touched him he simply looked up, jaded eyes almost glued onto the Irish male. He chewed at his bottom lip, trying to keep his breathing even as he watched. Somehow it was even anxiety inspiring as he just watched a packet of lube be opened, and he had no clue why. "Y-Yeah, have at it." He didn’t mind much about sounding dumb and overly eager, because he was and he had no problem with it. The moment Conor’s hand moved between them he braced himself, trying to keep as relaxed as possible while his mind went into a frenzy of some sort, but through it all: he had no doubts. A sigh pulled from his lips the moment he actually felt the boy’s finger, his brows knitting together while he simply let himself get adjusted, already thankful that Conor was being tenative about it all. After a moment he let out a breath he hadn’t been really aware that he was holding, nodding at the question once again. "Mhm, think so. Think I’m more nervous th-than it actually hurts or feels… different." He propped up slightly on his elbows, pressing his lips in a thin line as he looked up at the male, giving a small nod to tell him he could actually move his hand a little more. When he did, it felt just a little odd for the first moment; he wasn’t quite used to feeling someone inside him, and even he had only fingered himself a few times. However, eventually the sting of odd had pulled into a nice pleasure and he let a moan fall from him; even though he realized that he should anticipate a second finger eventually.
It was as if he were studying every movement, breath and sound that Benjamin was making, the blond stayed silent beside his breathing; uneven still, but he tried to settle it a bit. The first moan that emitted from the boy beneath him replayed over and over in his mind, as if he never wanted to forget it -- he probably never will. The corners of his lips quirked up in a small smile and a bit of relief washed over him. His movements never ceased; eventually he pulled the single digit out and joined it with another, pushing back in. When he had, he move much slower than he had been. There was still a slight fear that he would harm the boy, but after the light sounds he had been making, Conor was sure that the other could handle it failry well. "You're doing so good," the words were almost mumbled. What he couldn't share in affectionate kisses, Conor showered Ben in quiet compliments about the way he looked; how good he was for him. Time ticked by slowly but never once did the blond bother to complain. Seven minutes after he had let the second finger slip inside of the other, he let his fingers stretch a bit more, almost scissoring; he had read how to do this only a few days before. Needless to say that watching the boy underneath him was making him embarrassingly hard. Though he struggled to ignore the aching feeling, his mask was slowly beginning to falter.