nagpurpolice Chapter 279- Gaining Acces to Pussy and Heart Both
Chapter 279- Gaining Acces to Pussy and Heart Both
Sugar, at the console.
Still handcuffed. Still collared. Still leaking. Now covered in Nano’s squirt, her hair damp with it, her skin glistening under the laboratory light.
She looked at them.
At his back.
At Nano’s face over his shoulder — the demolished, glassy, flushed expression of a woman who had said she would kill him and was currently kissing him with every available surface of her mouth.
Sugar looked at the collar on her own neck.
At the handcuffs on her wrists.
At the forty-six hours and thirty-seven minutes on the suppressor monitor.
That no longer applied to him.
That now applied to her.
She exhaled.
Looked at the ceiling.
"I hate you," she said.
To the ceiling.
To the laboratory.
To the forty-three screens.
His voice came from across the room, muffled against Nano’s mouth:
"No you don’t... atleast your pussy don’t."
"Mmmf— Hnnnghh~!!"
Nano cried as he stayed buried.
His cock pulsing in long, deep throbs inside Nano’s clenching walls, each pulse firing another rope of seed against her cervix with the patient, comprehensive intent of a man who intends to finish what he started down to the last drop.
Her petite body twitched beneath him.
Small, violent aftershocks moving through her frame — her hips jerking upward with each throb, her flat stomach pressing against his, her brown nipples dragging across his chest with the friction of two bodies still pressed fully together.
Then he pulled out.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Every inch of the withdrawal announced with the wet, obscene ’schlurp’ of a tight cunt releasing something it had been gripping with everything it had.
The sound filled the laboratory.
Bounced off forty-three screens.
Nano’s pussy — the moment his cockhead cleared her entrance — sealed.
The puffy pink lips pressing together again with the specific, almost prim closure of a body that had just had its architecture permanently rearranged and was attempting, unsuccessfully, to return to its previous configuration.
Thick seed ran from the closed seam immediately.
Mixed with the thin red of her blood.
Mixed with the clear slick of her arousal.
All three running together in a slow, warm rivulet down between her cheeks, soaking the chips packets crushed beneath her.
She felt every degree of it on her skin.
Hot. Present.
His.
She covered her face.
Both small hands pressing over her cheeks, her fingers at her forehead, her palms blocking the laboratory light and the forty-three screens and his face from her vision simultaneously.
She sobbed into her hands.
Not loudly.
The quiet, continuous kind — the sound of a woman who has been comprehensively undone and is processing it in the only private space left available to her, which was a two-centimeter gap between her palms and her eyes.
’He is still here.’ ’He is right there.’ ’I can feel his heat above me.’ ’My pussy is leaking his seed.’ ’My hymen is gone.’ ’In this life too.’ ’Because of him.’ ’Again.’ ’I did this.’ ’I clicked that tab.’ ’I let him in.’
She sobbed harder.
Her breasts — small, perfectly round, the nipple-marks from his teeth standing out vivid in the screen-light — pressed together by her arms as she curled slightly.
Her legs still spread.
The white panty still around her left ankle.
Her pussy still pulsing.
He looked at her.
The dark, flat satisfaction of a man surveying something he has finished and found exactly as good as he expected.
His cock hung heavy between his legs.
Semi-hard. Glistening from base to tip with their combined evidence — her slick, her blood, his seed, the foam of the extended use, all of it coating his shaft in the filthy, honest record of the last hour.
He chuckled.
Low.
The sound of it filling the laboratory with the specific warmth of genuine, uncomplicated satisfaction.
"No." Sugar’s voice came sharp and immediate from the console. "Don’t you dare come near me."
She had been watching.
The whole time.
Her eyes carrying the specific, compressed fury of a woman who has been watching something happen and has had no functional means to stop it, her handcuffed wrists pressing flat against the console edge, her cum-soaked thighs pressed together.
"Don’t." Her jaw was tight. "Don’t even—"
He moved.
One motion.
Crossed the laboratory in the casual, unhurried stride of a man who has heard the words "don’t come near me" enough times in enough lives to understand their actual operational meaning.
His hands found her waist.
She kicked.
Her heels finding his thighs with the specific, ineffective impact of kicks thrown by a woman whose wrists are cuffed behind her back.
He lifted her.
Her body leaving the console surface like it weighed nothing to him — her large breasts slamming against his chest with the impact, her nipples dragging across his skin, her legs kicking in the air below her.
"You bastard—" Her voice broke on the word. "You cheated on me. You betrayed me. Again. In this life too you just—"
"But weren’t you the one," he said, "who spread her legs in the SUV?"
She went rigid.
"I did not—"
"Eagerly." His voice carried no inflection. "The word I’d use is eagerly."
Her face went scarlet.
"You—"
His hand found the front of her, between her thighs.
His fingers closing around the thin, dark hair there — sparse, uneven, the evidence of a woman who had started a maintenance task at some point and had either finished early or changed her mind partway through.
He pulled.
Lightly.
"You tried to shave." He looked at the evidence in his grip with the flat, cataloguing interest of a man finding something unexpected. "Changed your mind at the last moment, hmm?"
"AHHH~!! Don’t pull there—" "You pervert—" "Let go—"
He tossed her onto the bed.
She landed beside Nano.
Both of them suddenly occupying the same narrow surface — Sugar’s larger, curvier frame pressing against Nano’s small, trembling one, their bodies making contact at the shoulder, the hip, the thigh, skin against skin.
Both looked at each other.
The distance between their faces approximately four centimeters.
Nano’s eyes red.
Sugar’s jaw tight.
A beat.
’Her pussy smells like him.’ Nano noticed before she could stop the thought. ’She is covered in his seed.’ ’We are the same right now.’ ’I hate that we are the same.’
’She is tiny.’ Sugar registered. ’And she is crying.’ ’And she has his marks on her breasts.’ ’The same marks.’ ’We have the same marks.’ ’I hate this.’
"You fucking slut—" Sugar started, voice low and furious.
"Shut up, you—" Nano hissed back immediately.
The bed dipped.
He landed between them.
The mattress protesting with a full, structural creak.
Both women cried out as his weight settled — his body between theirs and over them simultaneously, his large hands finding both their chests at the same moment.
One hand on Sugar’s breast.
One hand on Nano’s.
Squeezing.
Both nipples pressing between his fingers with the same proprietary certainty.
His thighs sliding between their legs.
Both their entrances making contact with his skin — Sugar’s slick and full with his earlier seed, Nano’s freshly sealed and still pulsing with the aftershocks of her first orgasm in this body.
He pressed upward.
Both.
Simultaneously.
"Ahhnngg~!!" — ’Nano.’
"Ounghh~!!" — ’Sugar.’
Both cries at exactly the same pitch.
Both their hips pressing downward against his thigh with the involuntary, helpless motion of bodies that have been sensitized past the point of managing their responses.
He pulled their hair.
One fist in Nano’s shorter, softer hair.
One fist in Sugar’s longer, darker hair.
He pulled both faces toward his.
Sugar first.
His mouth sealing over hers with the same hungry, wet dominance of every kiss he had given since the rooftop — his tongue pushing past her teeth before she finished deciding whether to let it, the sloppy, wet sound of it filling the laboratory.
"Ummhh~!! Slurrpp~!!"
She kissed back.
Furious.
Her mouth pressing against his with the specific anger of a woman who is kissing someone she intends to bite and is, involuntarily, not biting.
He broke it.
Turned.
Found Nano’s mouth.
Her eyes went wide at the direct approach — then his tongue pushed in and her eyes rolled and her hand came up and grabbed his jaw and she kissed him back with the broken, desperate hunger of a woman who has been trying not to want this for the entire length of the laboratory scene and has run out of the architecture to maintain that position.
"Slurrpp— Ummhh~— Cruxius—"
Sugar watched them.
The specific expression of a woman watching someone kiss the man she intended to hate exclusively.
He broke the second kiss.
Pulled both their faces toward his chest.
His mouth went down.
Found both their breasts — pushing them together with his palm, the soft flesh compressing, the nipples forced into proximity.
His mouth closed over both.
"Mmmphh~!! Slurrpp— Gluck~!!"
The suction of it drawing both peaked tips inward simultaneously, his tongue pressing flat between them, the teeth finding both at once in the specific, efficient cruelty of a man who has decided not to do one thing when he can do two.
"AHHH~!!" "HIIEEK~!!" — together.
Their breasts bouncing with each motion.
Red marks blooming.
The chips packets crackling beneath them as both frames writhed.
"Set up." His voice against their wet nipples. Low. Carrying the flat certainty of a man issuing a directive rather than making a request. "Both of you."
They looked at him.
At each other.
"You are both going to be bred by the same cock tonight." His mouth against Nano’s nipple pulled. "Don’t you like that?"
"You perverted bastard—" Sugar’s voice was hoarse.
"You’re disgusting—" Nano’s voice cracked on the word, her hips grinding against his thigh.
He chuckled against their breasts.
The system notification appeared.
Visible only to him — the floating, clean text of a system that had been running its own accounting in the background while the laboratory managed its own chaos.
[Ability Acquired: Nano’s Hacking Protocol — Upgraded to S-Class]
[Synergizing with Sugar’s Containment Field...]
[Dual S-Class Abilities Unlocked: Perfect Suppression Override + Quantum Breach]