If Vasquez turns off the thinking parts of his brain, he doesn't have to spend too much time thinking about the lithe lines of his body in this changed state. He tips his chin upwards to catch Sweeney's eye, a determined look there even as he squirms a little, not wanting to admit that he's fucking nervous.

He's been fucked before, but not like this, and he's heard enough stories from whores and other women to know that a man without care can hurt them. Then again, given the attentions he's been getting, Vasquez isn't stupid enough to imply Sweeney would be like that.

Besides, a little hurt isn't so bad.

"Are you saying you don't want to fuck me?" counters Vasquez pointedly. "I never said no, nene," is his encouragement, bearing down on the bed to press Sweeney's cock an inch or two further inside.