[With Oren's hand out of the way, he can wrap his own more firmly around them both, stroking up and down with more control over the motion now that he's not worried about their efforts clashing. It's steady, purposeful, makes his eyes squeeze shut as his head tips back and his breath hitches once more.]

God- no, no, not- not like that. Wouldn't ask if I didn't- know what I was doing.

[His words are broken both by shaky gasps and sheer distraction-- it's hard to focus on answering properly, to not just immediately blurt out everything on his mind. How good it feels, how much he wants it. (And how he's not some clueless virgin, thanks.)]

Fuck me, Oren. [It comes with a slower, firmer stroke along both their lengths, his voice consistently breathy now.] Come on, you want it too, don't you--