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“You can say that again!” I agreed, nuzzling into the side of her breast. “But Mom... don't tell Grandpa about any of this, okay? At least not yet.”

I kept kissing her through my last couple of aftershocks, but as I looked up into her eyes there was no disguising the bashful eagerness I saw; she wanted it this time, I could tell! I crawled up to give it to her, and I was barely even in range before she was grabbing my ass and yanking me onto her mouth, forcing her tongue as deep as she could reach! I squealed and laughed, Daddy coming up behind me once again to cuddle me and play with my boobs. But amazing as it all was, I was really starting to get worn out! I managed to hold out for three, since Mom seemed to be enjoying herself so much, but that was it for me; Daddy even had to help move me, I was so worn out, snuggling me down against her while he did the same on her other side, draping his arm over us both and holding us tight with his hand cupping my ass.

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.