Even take away their cell phones was not an option. I felt that my c***dren’s sexual future was at stake. Visions of Bobby turning out like Raymond ...r Chrisa accepting demeaning or abusive treatment was breaking my heart. For the next two days I weighed my options including seeking professional help. There was no way that I could afford a psychiatrist and anyway having those pictures did not mean Bobby had mental problems. This is when I first considered teaching them what loving sex really. "This your brother?" "Brother? Try her fucking husband," he snarled. What the fuck...."Husband? Your muthafucking husband?" I asked, looking from him to her. I went slap-the-fuck off. "Bitch you trying to get me fucking killed? You're married...and married to a fucking gun-toting fucking policeman," I shouted, opening the car door. Keith --her husband, the police officer-- jumped back and drew his weapon. I pushed open the door and shoved her ass up off my dick, out of my lap, out of. More

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