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“We’re going to need some of this,” she said, unscrewing the cap. “Lubrication,” she said with a smile, seeing the confused look on my face. She poured a generous handful of oil and slathered it onto my shaft and my balls. She spied the label as she set the bottle down. “Hmm…extra virgin. That’s the only thing in this house tonight that is virgin anything.” I laughed nervously. I remember now my clueless mom never figured out why her bottle of olive oil kept appearing in my bathroom.

Edging a bit at a time, she moved as slowly as she dared, her pussy spasming and forcing her to stop an inch at a time. Sweat dripped off her face onto her father’s chest while her juices dripped down and soaked his bush. Finally, she had only his fat cockhead inside her while she squatted above him ready to make her dismount. But she was also at her limit, and she was unsure how much more teasing her poor pussy could take. Not wanting to risk it another moment, Sarah pushed against the bed with her heels and came up into a standing position over her dad. His cock popped out with a wet slurp as it flipped back to his stomach, and it tipped Sarah over the edge.

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.