dora márquez

My tongue pushing against her asshole, she guided my finger to her G-spot and resumed stroking her clit. She pushed her ass hard onto my tongue as her body built to another orgasm.

“What can I say?” Daddy replied, gently starting to thrust, and even without twisting to look at him I could hear the wicked grin in his voice. “Like mother like daughter, I guess!” He spanked my ass, nice and hard, making me squeal and giggle. I reached my hands up from the bed, squeezing her big, jiggly boobs from the sides, smooshing them around my head and into my face, giving her a soft, slow kiss.“But... but how?” she asked, still in disbelief. “Why?”

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.