With my wife sitting astride me and my head between my son's legs there was nothing I could do to get away, and I gagged as my own son forced me to fe...late him, his superior cock violating my throat until his balls were resting on my nose. I couldn't stop it; as my gullet struggled helplessly around his thick fleshy shaft I felt my cock jerking about as I came, my balls dribbling what was left of their contents onto my stomach."Oh my god, that's hot!" I heard Sarah say as she lifted her weight. Now I didn’t have her. I wonder if she was thinking of me. I had to think she was, but who knew.Abigail decided to walk me back to my place. Strange, I thought of the house, the guest house as my place. A year earlier I wouldn’t even have considered such a thing, but I did now, and not in a bad way. I guess I was getting over my anger about Abby’s betrayal of me. The two of them had done so much to help me. I was in the throes of not only forgiving, but also forgetting all of the bad. Well hope. I got the picture.“If I show you mine, you have to show me yours,” she teased.“Can’t,” I said, taking more pictures. “You’d scream bloody murder.”“Why?” she asked. The look on her face was avid interest and I took a picture. I honestly wasn’t thinking too hard about what was being said. I was looking for something special on her face and that took the majority of my concentration.Her eyes dropped to my groin. Then they widened in shock. I got that picture.“Oh my gosh!“ she squealed. “Do you. Cultures and races were lost in the simple and universal picture of a family. As I sketched, I memorized. The softened line of his jaw beneath a little extra weight and slightly puffy eyes that nonetheless looked with love on his wife and child. Her exposed breast and the baby’s sucking cheeks. The pattern of her sari. The dot in the middle of her forehead and her dark, sparkling eyes.I wasn’t really finished with the drawing, but Clarice tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention. I pulled.