i_speak_softly | Forty-Fifth Theory [Voice/Action]

[Don reverses the grip, bringing Robert's hands to his knees. From there he leads them up the outside of his legs, then over his thighs to continue up the inside curve. When they reach the inner point of the angle made by his body, he guides Robert's hands slowly, slowly down, until his fingertips rest on Don's tail.]

[And he looks up.]

[Robert willingly cooperates with this, letting Don guide his hands over his body with slow tenderness, revelling in the sensation of his warmed skin under his fingertips. He leans forward a little to brush his lips softly against Don's smooth plastron in the process of touching him...

... And then when he feels Don's tail against his fingertips - a little fuller-feeling than the rest of him - he looks up as well, meeting his gaze with a steadiness that he can only achieve with Don. Everybody else he'd have to look away from when the familiar fear kicked in.]

... Pl-please tell me if... i-if I am... s-succeeding in the endeavour...

[And so Robert begins to very gently - cautiously, like Don'll break if he's too hard - stroke his fingertips over the surface of Don's tail, in little rhythmic patterns. It's subtle, but he notices Don's cloaca, and is carefully tracing around the edge of it... probably more gently than he should be, but he's never done anything quite like this.]

[Don takes his hands away, using them to steady himself as he shifts position a little, leaning back on his shell more to take his weight off his tail. That should help things along - and indeed, Robert may notice that Don's tail is gradually enlarging.]

You can - do more - if you want.

[And he weaves his fingers around Robert's, demonstrating some moves he knows to be effective. A squeeze around the thick base of the tail, a rough stroke along the length, a slow pinch to the tip.]

[There probably aren't too many humans who would objectively find this situation as erotic as Robert finds it right now; his stomach is full of the hypothetical butterflies and he's all-too-aware of his own arousal pressing up against himself. But he doesn't pay any attention to it; instead he takes in Don's own masturbatory techniques and emulates them himself with his small, slender fingers - probably so different from Don's own, at least in such a sensitive place. ... Well, comparitively sensitive, anyway - turtles aren't exactly as sensitive as humans are.

He licks his lips occasionally, both from concentration and from the very human urge to get his mouth involved, but he doesn't yet - after all, Don hasn't given him permission to do anything like that.]

I... I-I would love to... b-but wh-what... what a-are you comfortable with...?

[He still can't forget Don practically having to suppress panic at having his plastron stroked, and it makes logical sense that somewhere like his genital region would provoke even more panicking.]

[It is different. On the sensitive skin of his tail, Don can more easily discern individual contact points, and the sheer number of them now is unfamiliar and strange. But they are the fingers of his partner, the person he trusts intimately, and Don finds himself enjoying these sensations that he could never create for himself.]

Keep doing that.

[And it's about now that Don notices how far Robert's own arousal has progressed.]

Oh, but you're -

[He reaches forward through the water. He stops short, not sure whether he should touch, but the ripples from his hands press up around Robert's body.]

[Robert's breathing hitches again as Don's hesitant near-touch hovers around his inner thighs. He gently catches his bottom lip in his teeth and smiles nervously.]

... P-Please, f-feel free if... i-if you would like to...

I-I'm certain you... y-you will be w-wonderful.

[He continues stroking Don, the warm water lapping at his forearms as his fingers caress more enticingly - well, he hopes so anyway - and trace across Don's vent.

He isn't sure how similar Don's genitals are to the average turtle's, but he figures they're probably close enough that he can assume some convergency.]

A-Am I... am I p-pleasing you effectively...? B-Because, because I could do... s-something more involved if, if you w-wished... though some of it m-might require g-getting out of this bath...

[Specifically, anything oral. Robert doesn't exactly want to half-drown himself; that isn't sexy.]

Very. [In fact, he may have somewhat underestimated how pleasant this could be. But a moment later:] If I don't move now, I won't be able to.

[He won't touch Robert yet, so as not to leave him hanging if they are about to take a momentary intermission.]

Th-then... then perhaps we ought to... th-though I know how pl-pleasant the water must be, but u-unfortunately there are some r-rather notable space constraints...

[Robert cannot stop rambling even when aroused as hell.

In any case, though, he leaves off on the touching long enough to get out of the tub, making sure he doesn't trip and smack into the floor, and dries himself off with an almost-reluctance. It was nice in there, he just... didn't know how effective it would've been for much other than masturbatory things...

At any rate, when he's dry he'll concentrate on assisting Don dry too, although it won't be entirely platonic, what with Robert's penis pressing insistently into Don whenever they're close enough - this might prompt a few small, soft sounds from Robert as well.]

One of these days I'll get you in a lake.

[And he climbs out of the tub. He wouldn't even bother to dry off, but he doesn't want to get Robert's bed wet. ~~That will probably be the least of Robert's laundry concerns, soon.~~ Robert's apparent proprioceptive difficulties bewilder him, and he tries to get the drying done as quickly as possible so they can move on to something more comfortable for both of them.]

[Don looks decidedly uncomfortable as he walks back to the bedroom, though, his stance stiff and almost bow-legged. He lowers himself onto the bed with a groan.]

[~~Oh, Robert's bed is going to get wet, alright. That's one thing he isn't completely prepared for.~~

... And they aren't quite difficulties so much as Robert actually liking the sensation, though, yes, delays are bad at this point.

The scientist does notice his partner's stance, and for a moment he's genuinely concerned until he realizes it probably has to do with the fact his tail is very swollen. This just makes him more determined to relieve his partner's pent-up arousal, of course, and he drops his hands back to Don's tail when the turtle is situated.]

D-Do you... [He hesitates a moment, blushing, before his epic bluntness kicks in.] ... W-Would you m-mind, perhaps, if... i-if I... p-performed oral sex on you...?

[He doesn't know if "fellatio" quite works in this context... maybe?]

I, er, w-would do my... u-utmost to be gentle...

[Don grunts a little in surprise when Robert is so quick to touch him again. He would have thought his partner's OCD tendencies would compel him to straighten up some already-pristine part of the room first.]

Not yet. [He runs a thumb past his vent - now that they're out of the distorting effects of the water, Robert might notice that the opening is slightly dilated from the barely-visible slit it normally is.] I'm -- it's supposed to come out.

[OCD only goes so far - though those sheets are looking a little odd, but right now Don's more engrossing than they are.

Studying Don's slightly-parted vent with definite interest, Robert traces his fingers very cautiously around it.] In that case, is... i-is there some way I can assist the process...?

[Damn, Robert didn't think he'd ever find a horizontal slit so appealing.]

Like this. [Don demonstrates another move - a sort of forward-pressing kneading motion, almost like milking a cow. Not that either of them would notice the similarity.]

[Robert nods and kneads carefully at Don's engorged tail, suppressing the urge to bend his head and kiss it (and instead kissing at Don's chest some more) while he encourages his partner's trapped phallus to slide out.

Part of him is more than a little nervous about trying to handle what he knows will be a rather sizeable organ (to put it lightly), but he is determined to attempt it, hopefully without dislocating his jaw. At any rate, the prospect is... strangely sexy, like the rest of this thing is to him.]

Your s-skin feels so nice here...

[And slide out it does, a few moments later, possibly propelled by the huge sigh that escapes Don as it emerges. The nerves of his penis, suppressed somehow when the organ is retracted, sparkle to life as it hits the air.]

[This skin may feel less nice to Robert, slick as it is with lubricating fluids. Don casts around for something to wipe it off with.]

[Don doesn't have to worry - Robert is actually not perturbed (at least, not much) by the slickness, judging by how quick he is to bring his hands to the slippery skin to stroke it slowly.

He definitely looks... well, awed is probably the word, though mildly intimidated could work as well... at the sheer size of it, though. It definitely dwarfs his own penis, not that that bothers him any (he would've been far more bothered by the alternative). This doesn't stop him from lovingly bowing his head low to the glistening skin, giving Don a downright smouldering look as he does.]

... Sh-shall I...?

[He may look a little hesitant from the combination of not being entirely certain if he should have these foreign fluids in his mouth, and not being sure if he can even fit any of Don. His jaw isn't very wide...]

[That look. Don hadn't known Robert could achieve that intensity of expression.]

Just - just a little.

[With his fingers, he indicates "an inch or two".]

[The little scientist nods gently and then lets the spade-shaped tip of his partner's penis trace his lips and cheek slowly, gauging its size and the sponginess of it (it's definitely more yielding than his own) before cautiously trailing his tongue over the crown.

He whimpers faintly - far, far too long since he's done this, is he going to fail miserably at it? He hopes not - and widens his mouth to carefully take the slick phallus' tip in his mouth, nuzzling and stroking the remainder with his shaky fingers.]

M-mmm...

[This is completely different from anything Don has felt before. Coherent thought fizzles out for a moment. When it comes back, he leans forward, as best he can with the awkward strain a full erection places on his abdominal muscles.]

Be careful... for yourself...

[It does occur to Robert, vaguely, that at some point - assuming Don's anatomy is indeed like most turtles' - the already-girthy shaft in his mouth is going to get a lot wider very quickly, and he doesn't think he has the skill to handle that without choking.

Still, it seems alright for the moment, so he dares to take Don a bit deeper, flushing with the effort and the wantonness of the actions (it's a bit late to think unprofessional but the word creeps unbidden into his consciousness). He's been fantasizing about this for far too long to feel too ashamed about it, though, so he just concentrates on keeping his jaw slack enough to allow for any thrust-like motions, and sucks him carefully, letting his wet palms stray all over Don's tail and phallus.

He mumbles something that might be muted assent around the organ in his lips.]

[No. Too far. Too dangerous. Don pulls backwards, as carefully as possible, even as he tries to mentally forbid the building pulse of blood from speeding southwards to swell his glans.]

Stop - Robert --

[Yeah, bad idea. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for Robert to figure out that he's misjudged the time it would have taken, and he carefully pulls his mouth off of Don - but not away. Instead, he angles his head so the glans rest against his cheek and mouths carefully at it, licking at the skin with the utmost gentleness.

As he does so, he murmurs muffledly:]

I-I'll... h-have to... g-get used to th-that time frame, I s-suppose...

[... Though, he can see this definitely having some interesting possible applications at some point. For now, though, he just wants to lick Don as much as the limitations of their respective anatomies will allow.]

[The blood, ignoring its owner's will, goes to its destination, and Don's glans unfolds rapidly in all directions. As it does so, Don slumps, collapsing backwards onto his shell. This may cause his tail or penis to brush across some part of Robert's face. If Robert follows it, Don will stop him.]

Wait - don't -

[The rapidity was a little unexpected, to be certain, and Robert does indeed get several inches of slick turtle phallus dragged wetly against his cheek, lips and chin.

He does pause at Don's entreating, though, looking up at him with a chastised expression.]

D-Did, did I d-do something... s-something wrong...?

I, I d-don't wish to... t-to hurt you or c-cause discomfort... [Said while looking longingly up at Don.

He is utterly dishevelled now, by the way. His glasses have flecks of various fluids on the lenses, his cheek has a silvery stripe running the entirety of the lower half of his head, and his soft lips are wetter than usual... perhaps he almost looks cute like this.]

I-I apologize if, if I have...

[One hand presses over his eyes, while the other fumbles blindly for Robert.]

Not you. That - that's never happened to me before.

[A wave of tension passes through his whole body.]

Ow...

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