..” he said, inching his cock farther into my mouth. I moaned louder, muffled by Dad's cock, as Uncle Dan's tongue started delving deeper in my hole... Dad started slowly rocking in and out of my mouth. I tried not to gag when he got farther back into my throat. Then Uncle Dan stopped and backed away from me. I whimpered at the loss of his tongue, and couldn't look back to see what he was doing, until a minute later I felt the tip of his cock pressing against me. I was hard a rock myself at this. Dad spent most of his time at a bar, just so that he wouldn’t have to come home and hear her crying. I would play my guitar all night to drown everything out. I’d play a song until I had completely memorized it, then I’d just learn another. It was easier to ignore the pain in my fingers than my sister’s coughs. Even after she died, I still heard her voice, and I kept playing to try and drown it out. As I got older, it got harder and harder, so I started taking drugs. My life after that is one. More

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