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As carefully as she could and listening to her dads breathing above, she moved her hand through the patch of pubic hair, the thick hair rustling under her touch. She moved her hand back and forth enjoying the sound and feeling of it under her hand. Once she had given it a thorough tousling, she brought her hand back to her face and inhaled. It was like a lightning bolt shot through her from her head to her feet. The smell was much stronger than she was expecting, the same smoky familiarity to it, but like his underarm hair it had its own particular scent to it, and it was better than all the rest. Sarah trembled as she smelled it, her legs locking together around her dad’s, and though she panicked thinking it might wake him, she couldn’t help it.

I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.

I ran from my guilt, immersing myself deeper in Galvin’s lies, telling myself that my power protected me from all accountability. The things he did were even worse, the things he did to women, but he was so sure that it was his right, that any wrongdoing could be dismissed, and I wanted that assuredness. I wanted to never have to worry about what I was doing, to never doubt or question myself, because as long as I thought what I did was right, I wouldn’t have to fear failure or be afraid of making mistakes. But that was the true mistake, my greatest failure, and so many people suffered for it.”