Her fingers continued to draw soft grunting sounds, moaning whimpers, restless groans, and he didn't even try to stifle them, but let them go, let himself just be, washed in pleasure and the amazing woman between his legs.
She pulled her fingers from him and he sighed, a mournful sound in the sudden silence of the room, then he felt it. The smooth, hard roundness of her, teasing, pressing, then oh gods fuck pushing into him.
Stretched. Wanted. Ohgods full of her... His breath escaped in a low, long, moaning cry, and he arched eagerly, inviting her deeper, spreading his legs to give her room, bracing his feet against the edge of the bedframe. Her body pressed against his; he could feel the smooth leather of the harness. George bit his lip, stifling a darker sort of cry and let his hands run over his body, squirming against the delicious pressure of her for a moment before opening his eyes.
The woman before him was incredible, beautifully overwhelmed in what had to be the strangest wash of sensation, and he reached to touch her, caressing the curve of her hip. "It is," he agreed, then smiled warmly, moving against her again, sighing at the sensations the squirm caused. Sharp and aching and full and delicious, deep inside him, surging into his chest and to his toes.
"Take your time," he said quietly, the smile not fading as he watched her face; he could almost see what she was feeling. "Then... do whatever feels good. Touch. Move. This... it's something I love..." George shifted his hips, pulling her gently by the waist, moaning delightedly at the subtle changes in pressure.
"I'm glad I picked this one," he told her, fingers drifting between them to brush against the cock she wore. "You're so deep inside me. God, it feels good..." He wanted her to move, and now, and hard, but refused to rush her. Let her enjoy the sensations, adjust as she wanted, be as gentle or as forceful as was good for her. He coudln't stop himself from squirming against her though. That felt too good...