Thread by @FastHankconSmut

✨Possibly ❌disturbing smut, grizzled with layers, upon layers of super nsfw, and lots of pining

And soooo cliche

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Connor curious about sex goes looking for a man like Hank. A man that’s all the things Connor loves about him.

Big, hairy, tall, strong, a little older, maybe confident and serious, but with a a mouth on him. And, uh, tattoos...

Finding a guy like that turns out to be a little difficult, because Connor is a tall man himself and keeps being overlooked in the way he’d like to be.

No one has stepped up to bat yet, but it’s only been a month of searching, if that.

Finally, he strikes out and finds a guy with almost all of Hank’s incredible, alluring features.

The thing is, this is all pretty new to Connor, sure, but he’s not entirely positive he’d be able to hold his own in the immersive, incredibly daunting world that a guy like Hank seems to dwell most often even if he wasn’t.

This guy brings him to a sexclub with more ‘bears’ in one place than Connor has seen in every bar and pub he’s gone looking.

He’s willing to try to get into whatever headset comes with being a Bear’s tight plaything, and if he’s going to date one to fill the lonely void of one big Hank Anderson, Connor will have some pretty extreme challenges to face.

When all is said and done, and he’s been thoroughly introduced to the toys he’s going to meet quaint with, Connor swallows his uncertainty and gets ready for the next step.

His first ever experience with sex involves sounding.

Connor‘s coming in blind on how to even finger someone, much less something, if he’s being truthful, that makes him a bit...nervous.

He thinks he’s pretty sure nothing is supposed to go *in* there, as he eyes the silicone sound pinched between his ‘boyfriend’s fingers.

He’s lubing it up and giving it a little flex, just before he turns and gives Connor this sly little smile.

Connor knows he’ll stop if he tells him to, but he’s grounding himself to the bed and telling himself he has to try. Just try and see.

His boyfriend tells him it’ll ruin sex for him forever, make him crave the fullness and stretch and Connor’s pump nearly ejects. But he clears his head and wills himself still, laying back on his elbows with his legs spread.

He wishes it was Hank- wishes the hand holding his thigh down and touching his cock for the first time was Hank’s. He has to remind himself to focus.

There’s a little rod about to go some places it really shouldn’t. Just as the man lines the tip up with his slit, he thinks he’s about to break.

He’ll have to pay for the sheets he’s ripping.

His head is tipped forward, watching everything intently, as something anxious and heavy settles in his ‘stomach’. He wants *something*, maybe not this, but something, and if he waits any longer for that something to happen, he might wind up with nothing at all.

So, he’ll take this. He’ll be brave and scared at the same time, and if this ‘ruins sex for him’ forever, at least he can say he’s had it.

This is sex, right?

Then the tip of the sound pushes through, and it’s so slow and easy, he doesn’t even notice for a millisecond.

His processors feel all clogged as he tries to push away the head rush. He’s able to break through the fog when he realizes the man’s hand has gone still, and Connor forces himself to look.

The silicone is almost an inch of the way in, gravity helping it slide *down*.

He locks up, joints going stiff as steel when he sees it. His boyfriend shushes him, pets his thigh, asks him if it hurts, and Connor...he doesn’t know what to say.

He’d blocked off the feeling down there, cheating the system a bit.

It was a waste pretending his motive wasn’t the anxiety lighting up his wires, and he wonders if he should just lie, and say it’s great. Tell him he can handke it- but, he doesn’t know what exactly he should be experiencing from this.

Is he letting on that he can’t feel it?

His partner doesn’t know enough about androids to know the difference it seems. Not enough to know that Connor can keep his cock proud and straight, and not enough to notice his fluttering red LED is his giveaway.

When Connor looks again, he’s shocked to find the thin rod is further along than before. His eyes follows where the man’s hand curves down and under his backside and feels the odd sensation there- that he’s *touching* Connor.

He hadn’t realized how far down he’d shut his sensors off in all his panic, but he judges that the numb, gentle prodding is coming from his backside, around his hole, and sucks his bottom lip in.

His eyes meet his partner’s, worried, because he’s sure he’s given himself away that he can’t feel anything, now, and makes the split decision to let go. He’s touched himself there before, and he knows that it’s pleasurable. He *knows*, and his boyfriend knows.

He has to let go.

Connor gets lost in the moment as he pulls back the sensory block he’d enabled with a shaky breath, scared of what ferocious thrill awaits him.

Certainly not something he’ll be able to stifle- yet he feels defeated to face the heavy tide, and the ridiculously poor decisions he’s made. He’d dug himself here when he hadn’t settled for anything less than Hank. No one could fit between the space in his chest, but *Hank*.

His receptors fill with Thirium, and react instantly.

He feels it now, thick fingers pushing apart the wet ring of muscle in his ass, slipping inside. They go easily, making Connor nearly jump out of his plaster.

He can’t control it when his legs jerk and shiver, knees coming up and bending, as he pushes himself off the bed through his heels.

He’s never had someone else *in* *there*. He’s never gone that *far*.

He wishes it was Hank- he wanted his first time to be with *Hank*, but the thought is embarrassingly brief.

All his sensibilities immediately leave, torn and thrown from his heavy, metal skull into the in the furthest point of the abyss. All that matters now is every receptor coming to life past his hole, and *up*.

Up to the head of his dribbling prick, where the hollow sound is leaking fresh cum- which had come rushing out in the flux of sensation.

Now he knows what he‘s supposed to be feeling, and part of him is completely abashed at his sudden behavior. He can’t stop his moan.

It shoots through him, passing by in quick, confusing tangle of pulses- all tight and sharp and *deep*. So deep, right in his cock, like it’s *inside* of it.

It is, he registers fleetingly, and lets his systems get shocked. He’s cut from all other sensations, his hole, being pressed and pumped, a forethought. He doesn’t hear his partner rumbling praises in the distance.

All he knows is the scalding, electric pinch and quiver coming from between his legs.

It’s impossibly *deep*, pushing through his core, and touching something at the back of him that’s throwing him for a loop trying to figure out *where*.

His circuits go haywire and light up at his expense, despite having cum some time ago.

He’s thankful his partner can’t record him, because he doesn’t think he wants to know. He’s sure he hadn’t made a pretty sight, even with the man’s insistence they do this again.

While Connor dresses, limbs as steady as a baby calf, he thinks about that.

There’s so much to unwrap here, not just the highlight of what he’s experienced. He can hardly identify most of it in the state he was in, and that’s quite a lot to think about already.

But, there’s the matter of what this means about sex- at least what he knows about it. Maybe what they’ve done- what Connor has allowed him to do- wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and that doesn’t sit right.

He’s not sure how deep he’s dug himself here, but he knows he might not be entirely at fault.

He pulls his pants on, one leg at a time, almost sluggish, and begins to feel something sharp prick the plastimetal on his insides.

He thinks that in a sense, perhaps, he’s been taken advantage of.

He could have stopped things from developing further, and wonders if he should of. He could have said no.

But, he didn’t, at the end of all this, Connor reminds himself that he *didn’t*, and it’s not fair for him to blame it on this man.

He wishes that was enough to dull the pricking.

Where logic like that worked well for him before- dissecting his own ulterior motives, which were to act out a scenario with a Hank lookalike, and working through his feelings on the matter- didnt work anymore. In fact, they worked like shit as a deviant.

All the sudden, thinking ‘rationally’ wasn’t cutting things out so clearly for Connor.

‘Emotions screw everything up’

He tried to focus on what he did know- or thought he knew.

He couldn’t store away the memory of his first orgasm via sounding properly, as his receptors had scattered and scrambled while he was tried to catch enough of it- tried to decipher what his synthetic nervous system was even doing at the time while reacting.

He could only remember a mess of shocks and pulses and a dull buzz at the base of his ‘spine’.

But he knew that he...he definitely *liked* it.

It was nothing like when he touched himself.