lainey wilson gyatt

“Okay, sweetie,” she agreed, leaning down to kiss me softly in my hair. “We won't tell him, not until and unless you're absolutely, one hundred percent sure you want him to know. And if you decide you never do, that's okay too. Whatever you want.”

“Okay, good,” I sighed with relief. I knew Mom would understand, but it was still good to have her word that she'd keep my secret until I was ready. “But, uhhh... in the meantime, whenever you go over to his place, if you wanted to make sure he fills your pussy with a nice big load just before you come back home... that would be okay, too.”“Is that so?” she chuckled, squeezing me tight under her arm and kissing my hair again. “I'll see what I can do.”

If you want punishment for you and Cyrilo, tell me this, what will it accomplish? What’s done is done. The dead are already in the ground, and no amount of flagellation will bring them back. Whether you receive punishment or not, nothing changes. None of it matters. It’s all pointless. If you were a violent criminal, unrepentant, or even pleased with the carnage Bella wrought, then for the objective sake of society, I would say you should be locked away or executed. However, that isn’t you. I see your guilt and pain, so it’s not like there is any grand lesson for you to learn by being punished. If you think sitting in the dungeon will make you feel better, relieve you of your guilt, and bless you with a clean conscience, then the punishment is for your sake, not anyone else’s.”