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She walked up to the mirror and opened her phones camera and hit record. In the bathroom mirror she looked like quite a mess, no make up on her face but a shiny layer of cum and drool covered her mouth and chin. She turned her face left and right getting a good look and seeing that she had truly plastered her lower jaw. Next, she opened mouth and angled her chin down. Sitting in her open mouth was a pool of thick white cum. Her father’s cum. The thought made her squeeze her legs in ecstasy.

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.

“Nobody ever did that,” she replied, not answering my question. “I have a class in 45 minutes and I’m a mess. And I still haven’t sucked your cock.” I was still on my knees behind Mrs. B., idly running my tongue along her taint. As I stood and grabbed my cock, I noticed that Mrs. B. had bent over further, her elbows on the desk. Her dress was up around her waist, revealing her pretty, cute ass and the legs I had lusted over all year. I knew instantly what I wanted. Mrs. B. started to stand upright, and I pushed her back down.