おなまえ
Ｅメール
タイトル
コメント > “Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?” “That’s it! That’s it! That’s it!” His father bellows.
ＵＲＬ
削除キー	(記事を削除時に使用。英数字で8文字以内)
投稿キー	（投稿時 を入力してください）

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son. “I knew ya couldn’t keep your hands off it.” His dad says. “Men can’t do it, we are drawn to our cocks, like a moth to a flame, and usually that burning sensation that a man feels is the cum boiling up in our balls. You know that feelin’ doncha son?”

His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face. “What are you now, son?”

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.

“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. “Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.”

“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.” I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were.

The now lukewarm water streams through the curls of his hair rinsing away the last vestiges of the soapy lather. It all goes down the drain in a swirl of bubbles. “My hard-on. Somewhat. But I have them all the time. You know that. You’ve made enough comments about me sportin’ boners in the morning when you see them at breakfast.”

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

[url=https://gates-of-olympus-wiki.ru]http://www.gates-of-olympus-wiki.ru[/url]

last news about gates of olympus
<a href=https://gates-of-olympus-wiki.ru>www.gates-of-olympus-wiki.ru</a>

His dad’s cock does not curve like that of his son, it angles like a fishing rod looking for fish under rushing river waters, from the deep furry patch between the father’s legs. The sound of the shower echoes throughout the empty house. The bathroom door is open. He knows he has privacy. He is alone. No older brother. No father. Or mother. It is just him.

Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock. “It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.

“That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway. “Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.”

“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” “Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.”

He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. His dad’s cock does not curve like that of his son, it angles like a fishing rod looking for fish under rushing river waters, from the deep furry patch between the father’s legs.

“But you didn’t though, did you, son?” He dries himself but his throbbing cock continues to pulse as it grows harder because of his youth. The sensation intensifies. The feeling is wonderful. He can hear his cock throbbing in his ears.

“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom. “You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says.

“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. “Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!”

After I serve daddy’s left one, I was about to move to the right foot. While He stopped me, stood up, and walked towards the couch, he said “Crawling right after me.” I followed daddy. My nose was where daddy’s ass was. I was staring at that crotch while I was crawling, and I didn’t realize daddy stopped one of a sudden in front of the bathroom. My nose is slightly right into that dreaming ass crack. The one shower after his workout and practice had been a good start. But the walk home had tired him. But the massaging jets of water caressing across his muscular frame takes the weariness from his bones from this stressful day.