Thanks to SexyKitty_B for editing.
Note from author
: If you're not in the mood for a long intro, skip to [End of intro]
Life, by its very definition, isn't always fair. But for some, life can be especially hard. Such was the case for my godchild Karina -- my brother's daughter. I guess it all started shortly after she'd just finished her freshman year in college.
With her nineteenth birthday just around the corner, her life was suddenly turned upside down when her father, Tim, lost his well-paying job. Shortly thereafter, her mother, Angelique, suffered a massive burn-out, which made her extremely irritable and standoffish.
Not surprisingly, their relationship quickly succombed under the increased stress and by September - right at the start of Karina's sophomore year - they were in couple's therapy. As soon as Karina's classmates got wind of her home situation, they dropped her like a ton of bricks, and even started bullying her.
As a result, she started getting into fights, several times a week, which quickly earned her a bad reputation. That, combined with her good looks, caused her to get noticed by the wrong type of guys, for all the wrong reasons. She turned them all down, which, unfortunately - once again - made things worse.
False rumors started circulating about her sexual appetite and preferences, depicting her as either a hardcore lesbian, a gangbang slut or a whore for hire. She swiftly dropped to the bottom of the social ladder and became even more isolated.
I tried to help out wherever I could and did my best to be a positive influence on her and the whole family, but there was only so much I could do. Despite my best efforts, I watched Karina go from a happy, normal teenager to a bitter, miserable wreck.
She started thriving on conflict, deliberately going against the will of her parents, challenging their authority at every turn. The following months were dark and gloomy. There were times - quite a lot of them, to be frank - that I doubted if they were going to make it as a family.
But, shortly before Christmas, things seemed to be looking up. Tim and Angelique landed better jobs, reducing their stress levels. And, having succesfully worked through their marital problems, they no longer needed therapy.
Because of their new dynamic, they were able to spend more time with Karina, giving her the attention and support she so desperately needed. But then, just as she was getting back on her feet, when she was at her most vulnerable, fate intervened.
While returning home from their first party in many months, Tim and Angelique's car was hit by an intoxicated driver. They were declared dead at the scene. I got the call from the hospital in the middle of the night -- as I was still Tim's emergency contact.
I jumped in my car and drove straight to Karina, vowing to be there for her, no matter what! The next couple of weeks were a living hell. Poor Karina. I had never seen anyone cry so much before.
I tried to help her out as much as possible -- I took care of most of the paperwork, such as police reports, insurance questionaires etc -- while also being there for her emotionally. Unfortunately, that turned out to be the easy part.
Next came the funeral arrangements. Picking out a casket to burry Tim was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do. Luckily mom and dad weren't around anymore to witness the end of their oldest son. I managed to keep it together and continued to be there for Karina.
I realized that the only way to honor my brother, his wife and my parents was to provide my godchild with the best possible future and to ensure her happiness. I would soon get my chance. About a week after the funerals, a social worker dropped by to discuss our current situation and more specifically, Karina's future.
It soon became apparent that without additional financial support, she wouldn't be able to finish her college education. The house and the car was hers and Tim and Angelique had saved some money, but not enough to live off and pay for college.
Before Karina could even consider giving up her studies -- and most likely end up in a dead end job -- I offered to help her out. Luckily, she quickly and happily accepted -- probably realizing that it was her best chance at a promising future.
I moved out of my appartment and into Karina's guest room. With the money I was now saving on rent -- and dipping into my savings a little bit -- I was able to pay for her tuition and make ends meet. Luckily, my employer was very understanding and let me work from home most of the time.
Over the next couple of weeks, Karina and I tried to pick up the pieces. She still regularly needed a shoulder to cry on, but things were definitely looking up. Sometimes, she even managed a small giggle or a chuckle. Some small measure of peace and happiness was creeping back into our lives.
But then, we received a phone call from her headmaster, who kindly -- but compellingly -- advised us to schedule an appointment at 'our earliest convenience' to discuss Karina's grades. Two days later, we sat down with him and the guidance counselor.
After offering their condoleances, they made it clear that they didn't believe that Karina would be able to pass her exams, now less than two months away. They were, given the circumstances, of course, willing to give Karina all the extra time she needed but even with all that leeway, they didn't think she could make it.
Eventually, the headmaster proposed Karina should quit and forget about the current year. He advised her to take the time to grieve properly and try again the following year. Well intended as his little speech might have been, it only accomplished one thing: it completely destroyed Karina's self-confidence - even to the point that she simply stopped trying.
On top of that, she also started exhibiting typical adolescent behavior. She became withdrawn, bitter and angry, again. She was never in a mood to talk anymore. Pretty soon, we only saw each other at the dinner table -- whenever she didn't eat over at one of her friends.
She was always on her smartphone, even during dinner. If I called her on it, or on anything else, we'd end up fighting. Pretty soon, she started hanging out with the wrong people and they began rubbing off on her. She became even angrier at the world than she already was. I feared the worst...
She didn't want to talk and she didn't want to listen. There simply was no getting through to her anymore. Although I never screamed at her, she was always yelling at me, always angry and always blaming me for whatever was wrong with her life. After another two weeks of living hell, I was ready to throw in the towel.
But then, things changed... again. For the better this time. And, it was because of something simple. A variable I hadn't even considered up until that point: my fat cock!
[End of intro]
That Friday night, we'd been fighting for the millionth time. She was going to a party, for the fourth time that week -- courtesy of her so-called friends, who were in fact party and drinking machines -- and I had dared to ask if she thought that that was a good idea. She had exploded in anger and stormed out of the house, slamming the doors.
After calming myself down, I got comfy in front of the tv, put on a dirty movie and started tugging my fat cock. I hadn't touched myself in several days and I was feeling pretty damn horny. Ever since I had moved in with Karina, I had put my social life on hold, not wanting to complicate things any further. The only action I was getting these days, was rubbing one out in the privacy of my bed, or under the shower.
I had been stroking it for about twenty minutes, when I suddenly heard the front door open and slam shut again. I quickly muted the tv and pulled a nearby blanket over me, figuring she would just storm upstairs as usual, and I could just resume what I was doing.
