Nathaniel spreads both Anders' round, golden cheeks and inhales deeply.

"It pleases your lord," he answers, pressing and prodding with the pad of one finger, unable to resist. Then he mounts, aligns himself, and pushes in with a snap of his hips, as hard as Anders begged him for. No preparation, no lubrication except Anders' saliva. Then he pauses, because the roleplay is fun and all, but he has to be sure he isn't hurting Anders.