ted wiggins the lorax

“She was crying, begging me to stop, saying that I was hurting her. I just laughed, telling her she should be grateful to receive my affection, and that nothing in her life would compare to the glory of bearing my child. Galvin always told me that it didn’t matter what happened to the weak; it was our birthright to take what we wanted because we were superior in blood and magic. I wanted to believe him, because with him, I wasn’t alone. We had fun, we laughed, and we dismissed everyone and everything that got in our way. I wanted to believe that there was nothing wrong with us, even if, deep down, I knew the truth.

You’re still here because you’re strong, maybe not strong enough to win, but strong enough to live. How many knights and soldiers can say that? How many people in history do you think have clawed their way through the mud, gnashing their teeth and howling in pain, all for that little victory? You being here, after all that bloodshed and horror, is an accomplishment you shouldn’t dismiss.”

Her mouth never left her father’s cock, the tongue stuck to it as if glued by his precum. Sarah’s tongue pressed hard against his cock, even more precum pooling against it. She folded it up and scooped all her daddy’s pre with it and brought it into her mouth. She let it coat her tongue, appreciating the flavour and then leaned forward so it would all gather in one place again, before titling her head back to swallow.