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[Too late to suggest going back to fingering. Larry is sure if they let up now he would fucking die.]
I...gotta go slow just-[there is an exasperated, shattering sigh] until I fit.
[Shallow shaking thrusts start like a knocking writing for the right slip to let him in.]
Relax. Breathe.
[Fat chance. He can hardly keep it together. Precome helps slick the way at least.]