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'"Then Harry said, 'I had talked to Joe earlier and he said he was in her pants not two weeks ago, ' " said Sue.Barb added, "I said 'Bullshit, Harry, Dorothy wouldn't sleep with Joe'."Then Barb said, "Harry replied, 'Joe said he could prove it, ' that you have a little brown mole on the right side of your bush next to your pussy. Like we'll get a chance to see that," Barb laughed.I was in panic mode and started crying. Barb and Sue tried to console me. They said, "We know Joe's lying. Everything will be alright."I looked at Barb and Sue and said, "I do have a mole, but how did Joe know it?" I then asked them if I could bunk with them that night. I don't think I wanted to be with Paul then, nor Dixie and Joe. Not till I got some answers.Sue went over to Paul's room and picked up my clothes. She said Paul was pissed but let her have them. I then called my son Mike's room. When he answered the phone I asked him if I could ride home with him in the morning.He just said, "Sure, mom, we. I rammed into her pussy like piston of a formula 1 car at its top speed. She was moaning, crying as loud as she could but demanded more of it. She was craving endlessly for it. Although the music was loud, it was not loud enough to hide her voice. So I put the dupatta which was around my neck deep into her mouth, now she couldn’t scream. She started panting like a thirsty bitch in heat. She engraved her 1 cm long nails in my buttocks. She begged me to explore her depths. She pleaded me to enter harder. The room was filled with the sound of thap-thap, thap-thap, my thighs on her thighs, my scrotum on her ass. I fucked her deeper and deeper and suddenly I felt a gush of watery liquid on my member. She reached her orgasm, she was squirting perhaps. I was also near my edge. I tried to pull my dick but she insisted me to ejaculate inside her, this time her nails dug deeper. I did as she commanded. Our love juices met. It was warm and humid inside. I pulled it back. I was never satisfied.
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Thumbing through the pages, he also noted that often restraints were used to ensure lack of escape from an instrument of punishment. ‘Boy,’ thought Gerard, looking at his mother, ‘if I could just get my hands on some of this stuff.’More time passed, more days returning home with mom asleep on the couch (usually alone), more time thinking of how to help Tim until THE day came. Shortly after his eighteenth birthday, Gerard had applied for legal custody of his younger brother and now, a little over a year later, just before his mom’s 40th birthday, it was granted. He had finished college; obtained a fairly well paying job; spoke to countless workers about the bad influence his mother was, and now he won their freedom, leaving only one thing unfinished, vengeance on his mother for Tim. A few days later, Gerard walked in the door carrying two bottles of vodka, his mother’s favourite. ”Happy Birthday.” He called out entering the door, but it wasn’t needed, she was already passed.

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