The final procedure was not medical.
It was the last act of ownership I could perform before the world ended at our door.
I kept Justin on his knees as the clinic shook with the impact of explosions. The neutral sensitizer pulsed through his veins in its highest dose yet, sharpening every nerve until even the vibration of distant gunfire felt like a caress on raw skin. His thighs shook violently. Sweat rolled down the hard planes of his chest and abdomen in heavy rivulets. His c**k hung heavy and flushed between his spread thighs, the head swollen and glistening, leaking in thick, rhythmic drops that fell onto the sheets with soft, obscene sounds.
I straddled his lap and sank down onto his throbbing length in one slow, claiming glide until he filled me completely. I stayed buried deep,
