Would my son go though his life with perpetual blue balls?It made me speak to a physical therapist I trusted one afternoon while another therapist was...working with Michael.“I have a ... weird ... question for you,” I told the woman.“Ask away,” she said.“The other day, I noticed my son had an erection. Do you ... do you know if that might be a source of frustration for him?”The therapist eyed me seriously. “Not sure I understand.”“You know ... other fifteen year olds can ... take care of. Now he’s going to take over the writing.With that, Cock-Master pulled his feet down and used the chain between the tit clamps to drag me to my corner where he left me on my knees facing the walls. I could hear him continue the e-mail.Yo, master…this slave boy of your is a real fuck-up. He’s slow to obey, and gets hard at the drop of a hat. He’s got a tiny penis and is a slow learner. Are you sure you want him as a shithead slave? OK, I’ll presume you still want him, so here are some suggestions. Sandra’s pussy is now only a moment away from being exposed and the Driver sees the blonde curls of her pubic hair peeking thru the fabric. He runs his hands over her pubic mound and slides his fingers under the sheer lace fabric. With a quick yank, Sandra’s pussy is exposed and in full view of her children’s eyes. Her pussy is neatly trimmed with bald lips and a nice little patch of hair above her vulva. The Driver bends over and runs his tongue over her lips and pushes it thru to the interior. " I promise that if we do it again, I'll take my time and be gentle. Something came over me just now. I wasn't myself."She laughed. Her laugh was rich and melodious. Her eyes, her entire face, seemed to be laughing. "If that wasn't you, I want to meet that other guy who just about killed me."Deirdre was a playful, delightful lover. Humor is such an integral part of her person, and it seemed to come out even more in the bedroom. She has a sweet relaxed way of dealing with everything.We held each.