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One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

“Oh, that was nothing, Mom,” I laughed. “Don't worry! It's just his knot stuck inside me, is all. You'd think, with how long I've been letting him do this, that he'd have figured out by now he can't pull out right away! But you can't fight instincts, I guess. Now I just have to wait until he shrinks down enough to get it out again. It shouldn't take too long.”

I’ve spent my life since then working to repent for my crimes through my actions, to help and protect people, and to strengthen Uther so that the Profane won’t succeed in their ambitions. To walk the path of light doesn’t mean to be without a shadow; it means to walk with your shadow behind you as you strive for brighter days and illuminate the shadows of others.