Mr. Richard lets out a low groan as Connor's fingers brush against his nipple, hardening instantly beneath the boy's touch. He arches his back slightly into the contact, pressing their bodies even closer together. "That feels good," he pants, sliding one hand down to caress Connor's thigh before moving higher, slowly stroking the soft skin of his inner thigh.
"Connor," he whispers, leaning in close once more. "Would you like me to touch you there?"