[So slight, so thin, so eager; it's so easy, too easy, to reach all the way around your back, hands meeting and fumbling at the small of your back. He upends the bottle over his fingertips and palm, cups his hand down, reaching around the long way but there's plenty of reach and his first blunt finger pushes in to the second knuckle, slippery and sudden.]

[A groan, a shudder against you; he clumsily sets aside the bottle, grips his shaft with his other hand, hooks his fingertip against your ring and strokes himself roughly in the same motion, greasing his length, making a muffled sound of want into your hair as his touch shakes you both]