Nate still remembers his first few times, the way it felt wrong and right at the same time. The sensation of almost pain, but not quite. At Matt's request, he presses forward, sinking another inch or so before he pulls back, just giving a few slow, shallow thrusts to get him used to the feel of it.
"It feels so good Matt. Better than I could have imagined." His hands run over Matt's back and hips, lovingly caressing him, trying to add those additional sensations to make this a positive experience.
There's no specific effort that needs to be made in holding back the quips he'd usually come up with. It's all he can do just to keep breathing, and when Nate starts to move a little, however shallowly, he lets out a slight noise, an almost moan, if somewhat pained. He bites into his lip. But it actually feels pretty good, and it's almost weird how much it suddenly turns him on to be on the receiving end.
"Shit."
He grips a little into the pillow, and then lets out a small laugh.
"I can't believe we're fucking doing this," he manages, before adding, "what's the view like from there?"
"You're beautiful." He says without a single moment of hesitation. Nate's not as chatty as Matt can be, and what he wants to convey here is more about encouragement than anything else.
"Just a bit more." Well, about half to go. As Matt had observed, Nate was fairly long, but he was taking it slow, easing Matt into this. This time, when he pushed forward, he allowed himself to sink another inch or so deeper.
"How's it feel? Too much?" He knows it can be overwhelming. And if it is, he'll slow down even more. He wants everything about this to be the best experience possible.
The next inward movement has Matt biting back another moan, this one a little richer than the last, a little more full. The question earns him a little focus, and he takes a moment before answering entirely honestly.
"It fucking hurts," he says on a breath. But then there are lots of things that hurt, and a lot of them can be good too. Pain is a funny sort of thing, and this feels good too. He still can't quite get his head around that.
He can't help at the same time feel almost guilty, because although up to now he's been purposefully fairly gentle with Nate, he's still had sex with him with enough gusto. Now he's on the other end of that, maybe he has earned a brand new appreciation for just how intense that could be.
"But it's good," he adds on, on an outward breath before that twists more to a moan. "Your cock feels so hard."
Nate wishes that it didn't have to hurt at all. Part of him wants to stop all of this just to stop Matt from feeling any pain associated with him. But he knows this is just how it goes, and that it does get easier. You get used to it. And Matt's telling him that it's still good, so he has to listen to that.
"It is hard. So, so hard and all for you." His hands move softly over Matt's hips, moving up over his back. With a soft grip, he holds onto Matt's hips and pulls him back to meet his next slow thrust.
"Feels so good to be in you. Never could have imagined it would feel like this."
He'd be lying if he said he'd ever thought about doing this. He hasn't. It's about as far from the things he fantasises about as anything could be. Maybe then that makes it even more surprising that as he gets used to the pain and the discomfort, that beneath that? There's something much more pleasurable.
As Nate pulls him back against him he lets out a slight cry. The pain seems to mix with something else, and it makes it hard to define, all he knows, is he's not about to ask him to stop.
No sooner than he's called out he follows it up with a breathy, "I'm fine," knowing that Nate would worry, knowing how much he cares.
"Fuck," another breath, overwhelmed, and even more so as his words sink in. "Keep going babe. Go on. Fuck me."
Each noise Matt makes sends a jolt through him, turns him on but worries him all at once. The reassurance is good, a clear understanding that this isn't too far, that it doesn't hurt too much. The very last thing he wants to do is hurt him.
"Still trying to call the shots, are you?" He says with a breathy laugh. "I'll take care of you, don't worry." He knows it's just a matter of word choice, but... Nate doesn't want to fuck Matt. This is the very definition of making love, as far as he's concerned.
He does pick up the pace a little, holding onto Matt's hips as he starts to move with a bit more purpose.
By now, Matt finds himself letting go. Giving in, if that's the right term for it, he can't really think straight right now, so finding words is way off the menu.
There's something nearly a laugh in response to Nate's comment, but that's short lived as it gives way to something much richer and deeper.
A hand grips tightly into the sheets, each inwards thrust more intense in a frankly wonderful way. He pushes his palm agains the bed and tries to reach his hand back to grab hold of him in any way that he might be able to.
"Nate," he manages his name, breathy, desperate, and loving --if he can manage that--. This should be terrifying, but it's not. It just feels right.
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"It feels so good Matt. Better than I could have imagined." His hands run over Matt's back and hips, lovingly caressing him, trying to add those additional sensations to make this a positive experience.
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"Shit."
He grips a little into the pillow, and then lets out a small laugh.
"I can't believe we're fucking doing this," he manages, before adding, "what's the view like from there?"
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"Just a bit more." Well, about half to go. As Matt had observed, Nate was fairly long, but he was taking it slow, easing Matt into this. This time, when he pushed forward, he allowed himself to sink another inch or so deeper.
"How's it feel? Too much?" He knows it can be overwhelming. And if it is, he'll slow down even more. He wants everything about this to be the best experience possible.
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"It fucking hurts," he says on a breath. But then there are lots of things that hurt, and a lot of them can be good too. Pain is a funny sort of thing, and this feels good too. He still can't quite get his head around that.
He can't help at the same time feel almost guilty, because although up to now he's been purposefully fairly gentle with Nate, he's still had sex with him with enough gusto. Now he's on the other end of that, maybe he has earned a brand new appreciation for just how intense that could be.
"But it's good," he adds on, on an outward breath before that twists more to a moan. "Your cock feels so hard."
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"It is hard. So, so hard and all for you." His hands move softly over Matt's hips, moving up over his back. With a soft grip, he holds onto Matt's hips and pulls him back to meet his next slow thrust.
"Feels so good to be in you. Never could have imagined it would feel like this."
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As Nate pulls him back against him he lets out a slight cry. The pain seems to mix with something else, and it makes it hard to define, all he knows, is he's not about to ask him to stop.
No sooner than he's called out he follows it up with a breathy, "I'm fine," knowing that Nate would worry, knowing how much he cares.
"Fuck," another breath, overwhelmed, and even more so as his words sink in. "Keep going babe. Go on. Fuck me."
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"Still trying to call the shots, are you?" He says with a breathy laugh. "I'll take care of you, don't worry." He knows it's just a matter of word choice, but... Nate doesn't want to fuck Matt. This is the very definition of making love, as far as he's concerned.
He does pick up the pace a little, holding onto Matt's hips as he starts to move with a bit more purpose.
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There's something nearly a laugh in response to Nate's comment, but that's short lived as it gives way to something much richer and deeper.
A hand grips tightly into the sheets, each inwards thrust more intense in a frankly wonderful way. He pushes his palm agains the bed and tries to reach his hand back to grab hold of him in any way that he might be able to.
"Nate," he manages his name, breathy, desperate, and loving --if he can manage that--. This should be terrifying, but it's not. It just feels right.