Quentin sat there even after the man left, leaning back and using one hand to bring a congratulatory drink to his lips. He tilted it back, grinning despite the momentary burn. His other hand was still at her head, still rapidly dragging her up and down and making her choke on his bulbous cockhead for the thrills it sent through him. He'd found her throat involuntarily squeezed to try and push him out whenever he went too deep and - though 'too deep' was getting gradually further back in her mouth - he kept hitting that spot and then some, to hear her trying to gag him out. Better yet, he knew there was a wet and lewd mess that was spilling from her lips as she occasionally, momentarily lost control over her jaw and spilled some of the filthy pre-cum/saliva mixture. He didn't even care that it fell onto his lap.. He'd have her tongue it up afterward, and besides it wasn't like he couldn't change.<br/><br/>His hand was still dragging her, slowly but hard, when he began to gloat over his victory to her once-dear father. "Stupid fellow, your father... I have a little respect for him trying to save you, but really... Brains beat guts in the world of business, and your dull-witted father was sadly lacking. Still..." His hand puashed some of her hair up and out of the way, so that he could see where her mouth was bobbing up and down his now thick, aching erection. "You're happier here, aren't you slut? You betrayed your flesh and blood to stay... Perhaps it's time I were more grateful for you, what do you say?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>