With one gloved hand holding my cock to one side, she pressed on my scrotum to coax my left testicle between her thumb and forefinger. "Turn your head...and cough," she requested. I did. My cock pulsed with involuntary reflex. "Again." I repeated the reflex, cock pulsing. "Nice," she said. Then she moved my cock to the other side, pressed on my sac again to free my right testicle and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. "Again," she asked. Cough. Pulse. "Once more please." Cough. Pulse.. Leather straps at her wrists, above and below her elbows, buckled tightly and pad locked, ensured that her arms would stay trapped. Another set of straps pulled under her arms, across the tops of her breasts and back over her shoulders to buckle back on to the top of the arm binder to ensure the arm binder had no chance of slipping down off of her arms. Her shoulders ached in pain as they were pulled back harshly. Almost to the point of dislocating. No amount of shifting around allowed for . “Tell me all about it then.” My cock was stiffening as I began to finger her juicy snatch. “Mike Came round one evening you were working and Chris was at Elaine,s (Chris, friend). He said Chris was coming back to see him, but later he admitted he came to see me. He said one time when he was in our house with Chris he had to go to the toilet and when he came out I was dressing and had on only a pair of knickers and that he was fascinated by my boobies and that he had to go in the loo and have a. They were totally incompatible with each other and worked more at cross-purposes rather than as a functioning team. The two males were called Donald and Oscar and I labeled them “Donald Duck and Oscar Wilde”. Actually it was more an insult to the beloved cartoon character and the sexually confused Poet. They both started some private interrogations of the younger girls in the family using some strange techniques that were illegal in most civilized countries.I got stuck with the more mature.