It was bedtime but Emma hadn’t taken off her pre-sex things yet. Did that mean she didn’t want sex or that she wanted Nils to strip her? She was intent on something on her tablet. Maybe that was it.

“What’you reading?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just this thing about the Birds Aren’t Real movement, or whatever it is.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“Kind of an anti-conspiracy thing, or a way to defuse irrational protests. Something like that.”

“Birds aren’t real?”

“I know. Kind of crazy, huh? But it sounds like sometimes it works.”

“I don’t get it,” Nils said.

“I know,” Emma told him. “It says you have to be Gen Z to get it.”

“I’m not even sure what Gen Z is,” Nils said.

“I know,” Emma said.

“But what does it even mean?” Nils went on. “If birds aren’t real are dead birds not really dead? Okay, I’m not sure there is a certain relationship between reality and life and death, but what about eggs?”

“What about eggs?” Emma asked. “Oh, guess what I discovered yesterday? One big advantage to brown eggs is that you can easily tell when peeling a hard-boiled brown egg if there’s some unpeeled shell.”

Nils snorted. “I suppose by extrapolation we can consider the advantages of certain colored feathers when it comes to plucking chickens. Have you ever plucked a chicken?”

“A chicken is only one kind of bird,” Emma said.

“What do you mean?” Nils asked.

“I mean when there are chickens and then there are cocks.”

“Wait a second,” Nils said. “Are you saying cocks aren’t real?”

Emma chuckled in that way she had.

Nils grabbed her legs. He wrested her panties down. He dragged her to him, half lifting, and pulled her onto his cock.

“This isn’t going to prove...” she started to say, and he peeled her shirt up over her head and off.

“Does it feel real?” he said. He didn’t move. He remained motionless, his cock fully buried in her cunt.

She moved. Her hips undulating. Her cunt clenching. “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” she groaned, grinding and clenching, and after three or four minutes of it, coming.

“That wasn’t...” she started to say.

“Really?”

More clenching and grinding and groaning. More coming.

Nils stared at her, his cock implacably hard, impossibly deep.

“Oh God,” Emma whimpered. More coming.

It took her several minutes to catch her breath. “That was ... that was ... that was unbelievably amazing.”

Nils smiled. “I guess that proves...” Then he frowned. Then he said, “So from now on we buy brown eggs?”

Emma laughed.

“Now you’re really going to get it,” Nils said.

“For real this time?” Emma said.

Nils didn’t answer. He just fucked her for all he was worth.