I tried to get it out of my mind, but I just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. As Michael watched tv, I watched the video over and over on my...phone. I kept thinking of how my fantasy was no longer going to happen.Several days went by. I didn’t watch the video at all. It was still on my phone, but it was hard to watch knowing it was never going to happen for me. I was feeling so down.Then one day at lunch one of the guys at work told me he had seen the video on my phone. I felt myself. I found it difficult to keep my tongue in check, but I managed. I was ready to challenge that dorky comment, but figured it wouldn’t help me get inside any faster—and might just have the opposite effect.It wasn’t long before I had expert hands probing all over me, the best frisking experience I’ve had. They knew their way around a body and even lingered on the crease where God split me, traveled up there to cup my balls. I couldn’t keep my soldier from standing at attention through that. Hell,. My cock was getting rather hard and the bulge was obvious. Nancy's fingers starting to touch the outline of it and really starting driving me crazy. She told me she wanted to do something, but first I had to promise to never tell my wife what she was going to do. I could barely talk but somehow said sure. She then told me to stand up. When I did she loosened my belt, pulled my pants down and started to play with my cock. She took it in her mouth, and licked the head of my cock while playing. She had no clue the girl is on the spectrum. Mental health arrived while I helped the girl bathe, as had her father. Even though the girl was completely calm, they attempted to heavily sedate and medicate her so they could lock her in a padded room. I met patients in the physical therapy area, each locked in sound-proofed rooms and doing their darnedest to be as uncooperative as possible. The techs know of their being Autistic, so they gave them a lot of slack as they tried to get them to do.