If you've been snipped, you can cum in me

She says it plainly, no performance in her voice — just that specific kind of permission that lands somewhere behind your sternum and stays there.

You know what you've done, what that appointment cost you, and now it pays out in the most direct currency imaginable: her pulling you closer instead of holding a breath, her hips rising to meet yours without hesitation or calculation.

The arithmetic is simple. You qualify. She wants exactly what you can give her — all of it, nothing withheld, no interruption at the edge.