lala manning

I left her there, naked and bleeding, and the next time I saw her, she was at the base of the west tower, having jumped to her death. Galvin told me not to concern myself with her, that she was simply a broken toy, and that I would find another. But I knew different. She wasn’t a broken toy, and though she made her choice, it wasn’t suicide; it was murder. I killed her. I hurt her, I violated her, and made her life so painful that I might as well have pushed her off that tower myself. I knew it, but I didn’t want to accept it.

“Here, let me show you something. Give me your finger.” Carol sat up, slid a finger inside her pussy and took my finger with her other hand. She guided my finger inside her and touched what I later learned was called the G-spot. “Rub right here, finger me here while you eat my pussy. I’ll cum for sure.” She smiled at me and pecked me on the cheek. “I’m so glad that you want to learn how to do all this. Your girlfriends of the future will thank me.”

Noah took a sip of tea. “I can understand why you would come to me for this, why you sought my judgment, but I am the wrong person to go to for ethical counseling. I have no moral code, no righteous instinct. I have done truly wicked things in the past, and the only regret I feel is the effort I wasted on amoral endeavors that failed to bear fruit. I’m in no place to judge you for what happened.