He pushed deeper.
The sound her throat made was dense and wet and continuous—'PHAALP—PHAACKK'—the specific sounds of a passage being required to do something it had done before but not yet completely adapted to. His cock pressed down her throat, the bulge of him visible from outside—the column of her neck distending where the shape of him moved through it, the skin pressing outward as he advanced.
She could feel her oesophagus.
She had never had occasion to feel her oesophagus before. She was feeling it now, comprehensively, in real time, as it was asked to accommodate something it had not been built to accommodate in the original architectural specification and was learning to accommodate through direct instruction.
Her hands went to his thighs.
