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“All I ever wanted was to change the world, to make it a better place where the weak wouldn’t be stepped on and enslaved, where freedom was a right instead of a privilege. I pushed myself, I struggled, I suffered, all for that goal, and survival is the best I could accomplish? If I have to focus only on survival, to be grateful just for staying alive, then how am I supposed to change anything? How am I any different from those who do nothing to fix this broken, corrupt reality?”

Once she’d finally found a good spot, she remembered what she was trying to do. Slowly and steadily, she brought her hand up and over his chest, the light sheet rippling above her the only thing keeping them from the warm autumn night. Again, she brought it down past the end of the hair on his belly and only stopped once she felt that rough patch of hair just above his groin. With only the moon filtering through the sheet above she could barely make it out as she peered over her dad’s waist. Short and curly, much curlier than his armpit hair, pitch-black, though most of his hair was with only a bit of grey poking through.

“Oh, good boy, Brucie!” I moaned as he started to cum, filling me up with that lovely doggie heat. “Cum for me, Brucie! Fill my pussy with that hot doggie cum! Good boy, Brucie! Good boy! You're cumming in me so good!” My words were more for Mom, than they were for Bruce, though I was sure he enjoyed the praise. I just wanted to make sure she knew exactly what he was doing inside me. He soon stopped shooting, holding still and panting for a moment, before he twisted around and tried to pull away.