Just as I was panting and moaning, begging for more, the sound of a door opening cut my gasps down to quiet whimpers. Footsteps shuffled in again, and this time I was aware enough to try to estimate. A dozen? Two dozen? More? There were at least twenty voices filling the room, like a small party. Beers cracked open, banter bounced from person to person, and I was a sticky, struggling, helpless mess in the wall, ass presented like a trophy, vulva pink and puffy, pussy still dripping creampies from the countless loads I'd just finished taking a few minutes before. I was a cum soaked slut, desperate, stuck in a hole in the wall, waiting to be fucked by dozens of cocks.

Each little squeak and sob made more blood rush to my cock. I reached down to unzip my fly. The sound made her struggle even more, and she tried to kick backwards; all she succeeded in doing was falling to the floor of the elevator, still stuck, but now on her hands and knees. I could hear her sniffling now; I wondered briefly if she’d ever had sex before, if she’d ever been touched like this. Her vulva was in the open air now, labia squished together as her thighs were bound by her leggings. I pushed her knees forward so that her ass was propped up in the air and ran a finger from her asshole down to her clit, barely touching.

Not for the first time in his long life, he wondered how much of a hand the TARDIS had in landing him here. He had definitely not programmed the coordinates for Luna University. He had certainly not meant to turn up in River Song’s university bedroom in the middle of the day. And, though he couldn’t say he minded, he hadn’t meant to turn up while she was… well…

Beg me to stop.