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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.”

“Here. Like that. You’ll make me cum.” She withdrew her hand and began to paw at my belt buckle. She opened my pants roughly and plunged her hands through the waistband of my underwear, grasping my ball sack with one hand, wrapping the fingers of her other hand around my shaft, stroking me hard. If I hadn’t already jacked off twice that day, I would have cum right there. Mrs. B. was staring me in the face, looking stern, but her face was reddening and her breathing more rapid with her oncoming orgasm.

“You should tell them you’re going for tacos.” As the phone started ringing, I looked over at Carol on the bed. She was on her back, facing me, legs spread wide, with two fingers spreading her labia exposing her bright pink labia. She mouthed the words “eat tacos” as I tried to talk to my Mom. Mom was fine with me not being home, but she always tried to tell me all about her life. I have no idea what my Mom said. My eyes were fixed on Carol’s slender fingers massaging her clit. I had dropped my towel and was stroking my now fully hard cock furiously as I watched Carol’s back arch as she came quietly. A significant wet spot appeared on the comforter. Mom prattled on on the phone.