bukaka in english term

“But I CAN’T make up for what I’ve done, don’t you understand? I can’t bring back the people I’ve killed. I can’t heal the people I’ve hurt. I can’t undo the damage I’ve wrought. One lifetime is not enough to properly repent for my sins, so why bother living? Maybe N-N-N-N… he… should have just killed me. I don’t deserve to live for what I’ve done. He said he would take everything from me, every sensation I can enjoy, every thought and feeling that makes me who I am, my hopes and dreams. He was right, it took it all, but he let me keep me life. I wish he hadn’t. I don’t deserve it.”

A few hours later, Sarah once again slipped into her father’s room. She only felt slightly guilty doing so, after all he said that was basically the same as giving consent, right? As the night before he was softly snoring under the machine attached to his face and was laid out flat on his back. She crept around to the side of the bed and stared at him. It was just a light white sheet spread out over her dad’s naked body. In the moonlight she could out the outline of his body easily. Though right now all she could focus on was his dick. She could see the lump right there, a small round bump right below his belly. She bit her lip apprehensively.

“Shhh…” I shushed Carol. “Let me do this. I’ll stop if you tell me.” I pushed my finger in farther, knuckle deep. Carol didn’t say anything else. She even moved her hips a bit, gently fucking my finger with her asshole. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I withdrew my index finger and started to push two fingers into her relaxed opening. Two fingers of my other hand were still inside her pussy. I could see Carol with her eyes closed, her cheek against the cold granite, concentrating on the feeling.