iruma x shiida

The second error is taking silence for an answer. When you pray to God and get only silence, that is neither a yes nor a no. It is simply the absence of a response. Whether or not God has heard your prayers is impossible to know, so however you interpret the silence, it is due to your own feelings. If you do something wrong and God doesn’t punish you, does that mean your actions are condoned or forgiven? How could you possibly know if God doesn’t explicitly tell you? God hasn’t deemed you unworthy; you deemed yourself unworthy. Do not try to find meaning in silence. All you hear is your own conscience.”

“And do you know the best part?” she asked, reaching down to slowly stroke my dick again, giving me another, slower lick. “The best part is, all you ever had to do was ask! I had such an enormous crush on you, back in high school! I'd have sucked you off gladly, any time you wanted! I'd have done so much more than that... I'd have done my makeup, and dressed up like a girl for you! I wasn't very good at it, yet, but I'd have done it for you, if you'd wanted me to. I'd even have given you my cherry, let you be the first one to fuck me in my ass—anything you wanted, I'd have done it, if only you'd asked! But you never did that, never gave me the choice. You and your friends decided to force me, instead. So now, you don't get a choice! You get that, Brianna? You belong to me, now, just how I used to belong to you! So, I'm going to go upstairs now; it wouldn't be safe for me to let you drive yet anyways, not until the drugs I gave you work their way fully out of your system. I'm going upstairs, and you can just stay down here and think about it. Think about how this is all happening to you just because you never had the courage and courtesy to ask! I'll be back in maybe an hour or so, once I'm ready to go again!” She paused, staring deeply into my eyes, then suddenly kissed me, deep and passionate, full on the lips! I was still trying to recover from my shock as she was walking out the door, closing it behind her.

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.