Ughhhh, stop making up words! No one's told me that — [ they have, she's just forgotten ] — because not everyone's a crazy bitch!

[ She blows harshly at a lock of hair plastered to her face, the air flipping it up before falling back over her furious eyes again. Aki's fashioned her into a pretzel, is what it feels like being shoved into her mattress with no mechanism of getting out. That's distressing on its own, but what's even more so is how her slag superior has stopped warming Denji's cunt with her hands, her suctioning kisses, her excessively skilled tongue that knows just where to lash her just right. Did she really have to stop to lecture her?

From under Aki, she strains to arch her back, wiggle her ass, do anything at all to hurl her off her high horse, but nothing quite does the trick. Finally, she slams down, tired, panting dryly into the covers, a hint of a whine edging into her breaths. Her inner thighs are horrendously drenched, belly chomping at the bit to rub, press, take something hot and insistent inside her. ]

Nngh, if I did it wrong — then show me. Show me the right way you're s'posed to fuck with something.