[This, particularly, isn't something that Peter has done - has had done to him - in a while. It would be something to adjust to even without the added layers of this encounter. Without the heightened sensations and this particular tingly substance Jim is using to prep him with.
So. He starts out relatively relaxed, though the squeeze is tight. As Jim works his finger in, Peter tips his head back and lets out a long, shaking exhale. It's nice. He's even able to appreciate the discomfort. He's not sure how much of that is his own inclination and how much of it is the fyrra. The feeling runs up his spine, both pleasure and pain. Peter shudders, gripping onto Jim just a little harder.
Then the oil starts really setting in. All of a sudden. He should be ready for it. He isn't. The result is that Peter's body suddenly jerks, arches, as he lets out a strangled sound. It's a lot. The pressure and the tingling and the burn of it all. The warmth. It's inside of him, and it feels like it's coiling in his stomach. Something good, but tight and tense.
If he's not careful, it will certainly be too much, too soon.
...Oh, there was a question, wasn't there? Peter's breathing sounds harsh even to his own ears, rapid panting that registers only after a delay. His stomach is...a little wet...? Ah. He's already dripping a bit.]
...Ah. [A bit of a dazed sound, not made any better by the fact that Jim is still working his fingers inside him. But he can collect himself enough to answer, surely.] Good. Intense. [It's got to be, if Peter is reduced to short phrases. He swallows, finding his throat dry, and tries for something more complex.] A little....slower...if you wouldn't mind...
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So. He starts out relatively relaxed, though the squeeze is tight. As Jim works his finger in, Peter tips his head back and lets out a long, shaking exhale. It's nice. He's even able to appreciate the discomfort. He's not sure how much of that is his own inclination and how much of it is the fyrra. The feeling runs up his spine, both pleasure and pain. Peter shudders, gripping onto Jim just a little harder.
Then the oil starts really setting in. All of a sudden. He should be ready for it. He isn't. The result is that Peter's body suddenly jerks, arches, as he lets out a strangled sound. It's a lot. The pressure and the tingling and the burn of it all. The warmth. It's inside of him, and it feels like it's coiling in his stomach. Something good, but tight and tense.
If he's not careful, it will certainly be too much, too soon.
...Oh, there was a question, wasn't there? Peter's breathing sounds harsh even to his own ears, rapid panting that registers only after a delay. His stomach is...a little wet...? Ah. He's already dripping a bit.]
...Ah. [A bit of a dazed sound, not made any better by the fact that Jim is still working his fingers inside him. But he can collect himself enough to answer, surely.] Good. Intense. [It's got to be, if Peter is reduced to short phrases. He swallows, finding his throat dry, and tries for something more complex.] A little....slower...if you wouldn't mind...