Any pictures you would expect to be there are missing, any notebooks you would think I had aren't there. It feels like any evidence someone grew up he...e vanished. This would be a nonissue, if it weren't for the fact I cannot remember anything about myself except my name.I'm feeling very frustrated. Over the last few days, I've been trying to remember anything about who I am, where I am, anything. I've seen a couple of things about this place, and it's very weird. I'll try and summarize what. He wondered how they had time to dry and braid their hair in pigtails, too. Suspecting that something wasn’t quite right, he tried not to let his suspicions show.“So tell me what the problem is with the TV, Sheila.” He did not hide that he wasn’t looking at her face, but at the unbuttoned shirt that Sheila was wearing. The hard-on that had just eased was growing full force again. She had no bra on either. One tug at the knot in the shirt, and it would be “Hello, Papa”. He smiled as he finally. With her jaws relaxed, she took all of the six inches Jason junior in her throat on the first try while Jason let her mouth take full control of his cock. Soon she was pumping the full man rod up and down with her mouth while her nails scratched Jason’s thighs. Strangely, Jason’s fingers had also jumped in action and they were pinching his own nipples. His toes were tingling very bad and Jason was scrunching them attempting to keep him from cumming. He knew that he had to pace because reloading. I would leave my door slightly open, and peek into my moms bedroom, Bill liked to leave the door open, and I could see my mom getting fucked. He was worse than John, he liked to slap her, spank her, insult her, and he made her do anything he wanted. The first time I saw Bill fuck my mom, was in the living room. Bill had taken us to the mall, my mom had been wearing high heels, sexy hooker stockings, a loose miniskirt that went just below he butt, and a small tank top showing her big tits. As.