sao sortiliena

“Good girl, Brianna! Good girl!” she purred, moving her hand back to my shaft. “And since you asked so nicely...” she laughed and started thrusting again, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed. Whatever she'd given me, whether it was Viagra, or ecstasy, or some cocktail of the two with who-knows-what thrown in on the side, it wasn't long before I started noticing the effect. I could feel the pressure building and building, like a heat at the base of my shaft, growing to a fire, then an inferno, searching for a release.

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

If you want my judgment, here it is: let your guilt be your penance. Bear it, suffer under it, burn in it. Work even harder now, so that you can help more people than Bella hurt. That is how you pay for your sins, by making a difference, not by sitting in a dungeon. Sophia Rosege, I hereby sentence you to a lifetime of hard labor, bringing mankind into the next age. That is the punishment I bestow upon you. Just make sure you don’t neglect Alexis or anyone else.”