I could hear him starting to moan and say things like "God that feels good!"His father started coaching him, telling him "Take a hold of her head by h...r hair. If she's making you feel good, let her know by pushing all the way into her mouth. That's it, don't worry, she can take it all. She'll swallow it down her throat."He was doing everything his dad was telling him, holding my head firmly in his lap, gagging me slightly as the head touched the back of my throat.I heard Christopher say to his. He always ended up wanking, only a few minutes into one. He has no self control, that's one of his problems. No self restraint. But I can easily control him. Restrain him. Of course, he didn't come right out and ask for my help. He hardly ever does. But I always know what he wants.Chris was sitting on top of one of my old blankets, on my couch. The white, mental hospital issue straitjacket kept his hands safely away from his dick, which was completely exposed. I looked down at the pathetic. More

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