His hand remained there. I had no idea what he would do next. Still more silence.Then he quietly called me a whore. How could I possibly do that? With...our son? He always knew I was twisted ... but this? More silence. Hubby then took his hand from between my thighs. He brought it to my face and smeared our son's cum all over my mouth. If I hadn't felt overwhelmed with guilt and remorse, I might have enjoyed this gesture. But not this way. He repeated that I was a whore. A filthy one. More. He intuitively realized that if they figured it out, he’d be forever surrounded by ‘friends’ trying to get him to +brain things to their advantage. He made sure they never noticed. And besides, it was exhausting. Moving things with his brain was a lot like moving them with his muscles — the heavier the object, the more tiring. It required far more energy to move things with his brain. When Brian was in the 7th grade, he found a book on parapsychology at the public library. He learned that he. More

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