usada pekora

I started to laugh. I couldn't help it, closing my eyes and laying back against my table, feeling the hot, sticky gift she'd just given me pooling inside my ass. The irony was just too perfect.

That was when Daddy moved into place behind me, just as I was really getting into it. He grabbed and lifted me by my hips, and I obediently pulled up my knees, holding myself up as he pushed himself into me again. I gasped loudly, and I guess the sudden exhale of breath over Mom's clit must have really felt good, because so did she. Either that, or she was finally coming to grips with the idea of Daddy fucking me, and she just liked getting to see it again. Maybe both, actually; I hoped it was both. Daddy started thrusting, and I wrapped my arms around Mom's thighs, holding tight and securing myself in place so the movement wouldn't make me accidentally hurt her with my teeth. It was so, so much harder than they made it look in porn, trying to concentrate on eating Mom's pussy while I was also getting fucked! But I found I was gradually getting better at it, and by the time Daddy was finally cumming in me again I think I'd managed to give her one for every two that he'd given me. Not as many as I'd hoped, but I think that was pretty good for my first time, and only having my mouth to work with instead of Daddy's miracle cock!

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.