Sam honestly wishes he could see about now. He's well and good at feeling things out, but visual ques would certainly help in this.

He works slow, stopping from time to time when he feels Cyril tense up at certain points, then continuing when the Elf groans and insistently pushes his hips back. Having to concentrate on this has calmed him down a lot. Enough so that he can think and isn't desperate to reach the end.

Leaning forward, Sam presses his nose to Cyril's shoulder and kisses it lightly. "Doing alright?"