The second that belt fell loose around his wrists, Conrad reached out, his fingers digging into Wesley's hips. He pulled him down firmly on top of him, forcing Wesley onto his cock, until Conrad couldn't possibly go any deeper. He tossed his head back and groaned, his own body still very much in motion, thrusting up and into Wesley's ass.
Conrad's veins hummed with an electric current, that white-hot heat building up inside him at an alarming rate. He didn't slow down, didn't ease up. He fucked Wesley with every bit of intensity that he had in his dreams; without the slightest hint of control or consistent pacing.
But this probably wasn't what Wesley wanted in terms of being touched, was it? Conrad, leaving finger-shaped bruises upon his thighs, yanking him down onto his dick. So Conrad finally snapped out of his self indulgent, lust-driven haze, his hand reaching between them to stroke Wesley's cock.
"Wesley.. Wesley Allan Gibson -- my dear, my darling -- I'm close -- Come for me. Come all over me. I want to watch you make a mess of me."