entomophilia

She lay there perfectly still for a long while, feeling her racing heartbeat against her fathers which steadily slowed with each passing breath. After what seemed like an hour, a muffled snore erupted from her father’s mouth and Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She was dripping with sweat from the stress, but her pussy was even more wet. The entire time she had lain there, her father’s cock was filling her entirely, throbbing slowly, teasing her to the edge despite the fear. She barely dared to move as she knew that if she slid off his cock now, she would surely orgasm and collapse on top of him. And if that happened, he wasn’t going to sleep through that.

“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?”

“Don’t be sorry. He is a huge dick, and not in a good way. He also has enough money to pay for our house and generous child support, so I am good.” We pulled into her driveway. A modest split-level home in a nice neighborhood. Good place for kids to play. Mrs. B hit the button on the garage door opener and closed it behind us before I could get out of the car. “Nosy neighbors,” she said to no one in particular.