Another child will die. So be it- death is but an illusion. I concede- neither an illusion nor a believer be. ‘Hush little one- for those bad, bad ...en are many miles from here’ The saintly woman cried. The corpse was rotted and its putrid smell inflamed the very last of our senses. Yet tears are not to be shed for what remains of this, the last remnants of our humanity- for the child has no conception of pain. (Not then and not now) For on bended knee their faith is never in doubt, never in. You reach under and palm your pussy, taking the wetness and sliding it on my cock as you guide it right to where you want it. The second it slides it you let out a long moan “ohhhhhhhhhmygoddddd Daddy, It feels so fucken big! Yessss, fuck my white pussy, shove it deep, longggggg slow strokes!” To which I abide, feeling your pussy tighten as my cock slides in and out, from tip of head to the base, each time I re-enter feels deeper and deeper and each time I fill it you rub my balls on your. More

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