He lifted one leg. Hooking it over his hip. His cock, hard and ready, pressed against her pussy. The head, finding the entrance, pushed. She was wet. Still wet. The night's fluids, still inside her, served as lube.
Her pussy, already a gaping slit, was open. Well enough. The lips, swollen and loose, parted for him. He slid in. She moaned.
"Not... not my pussy," she gasped. "It is too..."
He chuckled. Leaned. Kissed her shoulder. The kiss, gentle and warm, was a contrast to the cock inside her.
"I want you to give me permission to enter the level three library," he said. The words, spoken into her skin, were muffled but clear.
She stared. The request, delivered mid-fuck, mid-morning, mid-breakdown, was so absurd that her brain couldn't process it.
"You have everything," she said. Her voice, breathless and broken, came in gasps. "Just take it."
