Yes, somehow

I yank the zipper on my pants, freeing my cock. It extends fully, raring to go. I try not to think about how it throbs, or how the breeze flows across its head. I take a step towards Lilah. I don't think about her. I don't think about that juicy ass, that winking butthole, that tender pussy. I take another step. I don't think about her embarrassment, or all the people watching us. I think about the job. I think about what I must do. I am steel. I am unmoving.

Another step, and my glans brushes against her lips. I move forward mechanically, grasping her hips and pushing forward. She seems to suck me right in. It's tight and moist--so much better than my hand--and...No! I can't think about that. I am steel. I am not a penis fucking a vagina. I am a jackhammer doing roadwork. Pounding and pounding away against the cracked surface...

The surface starts to moan. Lilah is pushing back against my thrusts, her soft ass cheeks bumping against me. I am impervious. I am steel. I am a jackhammer. I can do this all day. I grip her hips all the tighter. Her own hands reach back and clasp my wrists as she hangs on for dear life. I keep pounding. Her moans increase in volume, transform into screams.

With a piercing shriek, she shudders and slumps further down, only held upright by my hands. I allow a single thought to break through the discipline of my consciousness. Holy shit! I just made this hot girl come! And my first time fucking, too!

That's enough. All my pent-up lust and desire comes surging back, coursing straight towards my cock and balls. With a roar and thrust--the deepest yet--I shoot an entire load straight up Lilah's clenching pussy. She hasn't objected to me ploughing her raw, so I assume she must have some protection of her own. If not, that's her problem.

Gradually, I come down from the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced by far. When I extract my softening cock from Lilah's pussy, it's drenched in her juices. I don't try to clean it. I just give it a quick wipe with my boxers, then tuck it away.

"I'm satisfied," I tell the cops. They nod at me wordlessly and leave in their car. The rest of the crowd disperses, too. Lilah remains slumped over for a few moments longer, but eventually she comes to her senses and puts on her clothes. She gives me one final look--her expression filled with humiliation, but also a hint of perverse respect--before resuming her journey down the sidewalk.

I jump back on my bike and head for home. If I came out of the Bureau office feeling like a million bucks, now I'm a straight-up billionaire.