[By now he's accustomed to Cy's absurd use of humor, so he feels nothing more than an urge to slap his hand over the man's mouth at those highly stupid words — but the lave of a tongue across one sore, leaking nipple is enough to hijack his immediate attention. His cunt clenches over that thickening length, and he rolls his hips just to feel the slick union of their bodies, Cy's cock buried deep.]

Mm. Would you have me knocked up properly by the end of the week?

[Given current circumstances, yes, this is a fixation. The shudder that Cy's teeth on his nipple inspires is visceral.]

As my birthday present, you can make me a machine like that. And I'll endure everything you do to me.