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I blushed. Missy Yeager was this cute cheerleader that everyone wanted to fuck, but she was just a tease. She would get you all hot, rubbing your cock through your pants and talking shit, then send you home. All the guys complained about her. I learned years later that she spent high school blowing the wrestling coach almost daily. Anyway…“No! I want to fuck you again. I just can’t believe you mean it.”

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.

“I’ve thought about sucking your dick and fucking you every day. We don’t have much time.” She dropped to her knees and swallowed my dick, sucking furiously. I grabbed her hair and held her head, thrusting my cock into the back of her throat. “Gaa! Gaa! Gaa!” she tried to be quiet but she gagged each time my dick hit her throat. She pulled off. “Don’t muss my hair too much. My boss will know I fucked you back here.” She put her head on my cock and resumed sucking, slower and more deliberate this time. Saliva dripped from her mouth onto my balls. My cock was turning red as her lipstick rubbed off onto my shaft. Fucking hot. She stopped again. She lifted my cock and sucked one of my balls into her mouth. That was new. And pushed me over the edge.