boats and hoes

“Oh, that’s boring. Come back here,” she said a bit too loudly. “Let me show you some nice pants.”“Uh, I don’t think…”“What size are you? You look like a 33 by…36 maybe?”“But it’s not for…” she handed me a random pair of pants.

Maybe you and I do deserve to suffer for our wrongdoing. If that’s so, then it means that when things get painful, when things get difficult, we don’t have the luxury of quitting. We don’t get to end our lives to escape what we did. Whatever form the pain takes, we bear it, we endure it, we welcome it, all while we try to make this world a place where people like us, like how we used to be, have no place, and the people who would be hurt can instead live in peace. The next time you encounter an obstacle you cannot overcome, when you just want to curl up into a ball and quit on the world, remind yourself that you don’t deserve the peace of surrender. You have to keep working, to keep fighting, to keep suffering, until the day when you’ve fully repented.

“Let me rest a minute. Put some more oil on that thing.” I poured the olive oil in the crack of her ass and watched it run down to where my dick was penetrating Carol’s asshole. I massaged it around my shaft. For the next ten years, I got a huge boner every time I cooked with olive oil. I started sliding back and forth and inch or so, working some of the oil into her anal canal. My cock began to slide easier.