cleolina

“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.

This was an experience Sarah had yet to feel, and the novelty of it sent a shiver through her body. She was so used to getting her fulfillment by pleasuring her sleeping father that she hadn’t thought to touch herself during her nightly duties. Sarah inched herself further down his body, stopping as his hard cock pressed up against the outer edge of her labia. The heat of it in such a sensitive place almost made her moan, but she bit her lip, she was too close to her father to risk making such a noise. Slowly and gently, she pushed herself lower, his cock pushing hard against her lips until finally a drop of precum formed at his tip. With the added lubrication his cock slid past and stopped just at her quivering opening. It wasn’t in just yet, but his head pressed against her, and she could feel the heat against her own.