Considering the only place he was really touching her was where he was sliding into her and couldn't really avoid touching her, impersonal was a good word for it. It did feel slightly anonymous and almost disconnected, even to him.

He didn't really know if he liked this activity but that way but he was too far gone to really stop and talk about it. And that would have done neither of them any good.

His breathing had gotten louder and it almost sounded like roaring in his ears. The fingers on her wall flexed and he gripped the sheets between the fingers of his other hand, kept jerking his hips as hard as he could into her. It was almost painful for him, the pace he'd chosen so he half hoped she was feeling it too.

And the other half of him hoped she'd end up coming hard and long and soon because he couldn't keep the pace for too much longer.