My dad returned home a few days later. I now had her hair tightly wrapped around my hand by the time she finished her diatribe regarding my female classmates. “Which type are you, mom? “They can’t blame themselves, they have to follow directions when their hair is pulled this tight.” I forced her face down to my cock, “They are not responsible for their own actions, mom, they have to do what they are told.” I pulled my mother’s face down to my lap, and rubbed her cheek against my insanely hard cock. Or the feeling when you pull your shaft back and feel the pop of the head of your cock leaving her throat. I raised the duvet and slid under it, wedging myself between my mother’s legs. I’m saying that some girls hate having their hair pulled in any way, and others can’t get enough of it.” I pulled my hands up so that her face was level with my own.
