Too much, too fast—no context, no filter—just raw sensory overflow flooding his architecture.
Xen stood bolt still.
“You good?” Lung asked.
It seemed Xen’s only tell was his ability to standtoostill. “This conversation is now over,” he said flatly.
Lung’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because it would be inappropriate to continue,” Xen said, feeling diagnostic throttles trip, heat sinks engage, and his neural buffer spike into the red as he herded Lung toward the conference room’s door.
“I’m okay with Royce being mad at me, too—” Lung protested, until Xen shut the door on his face.
Then he turned back to the stream and let it in.
34 /NEX
“How do you survive this?”I asked Sirena, in all sincerity.
I was kneeling in front of her, between her legs. She had allowed me to enter her, and I was afraid to move.
The way I felt wavered like a quantum state on the cusp of collapse. I didn’t know which outcome would destroy me more: staying still, or thrusting forward.
She smiled and cupped my face, drawing me down for another kiss. I liked it when she did that. It was deeply satisfactory. I wanted it every day for the rest of my life.
“You just do,” she said as our mouths parted.
“How do you know? Have you done this before?”
She laughed—and the motion shifted everything between us. Inside her. Around her. Within me.
“Yes...and no.” She brushed hair out of my face. “Yes, I’ve had things between my legs before. Yes, I’ve had sex with a few men. And they all lived, first off.”
“That is relieving. I would be extremely upset to die now.”
“You’re teasing, right?”
I nodded. She laughed again, and I stored the sound like it was sacred.
“Okay, well—in other ways? I’ve done this a million times. Sex is all some people think about. Loudly. Constantly. Even when they’re not having it.”
“I can see why.” I planned to let it occupy at least 32% of my runtime going forward.
“But—” She hesitated, eyes searching mine. “I . . . uh . . . I’ve never actually come with a guy before.”
I startled. “Were they defective?”
“No—shush.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I faked it. Other times I didn’t bother. And sometimes...they didn’t care.”
I had reviewed enough content—both recreational and educational—to understand how common that outcome was. Some men struggled to locate the clitoris with any consistency.
But I was no mere man.
“How do you do it? To yourself?”
She tensed—then exhaled. “Since this might be the last time I ever get laid—sure. Why not. I probably need to be on top. Switch with me?”
I hesitated, looking down at where we were joined. I didn’t want to spill too soon. But I nodded. “No—this will be the first of many.”
