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コメント > The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. > https://arturzasada.pl/ - porno dla dzieci > “Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.”
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His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.
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“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

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.
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“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

“What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.
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Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.

The pre-cum leaks, like a babbling brook, from the boy’s erect and pulsing cock, depositing its tiny droplets of juice onto the arm-hairs of his proud father. His father squeezes the nuts of his son, tighter and tighter, releasing more of the youthful essence.
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All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.

He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel.
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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.

“I figured you did.” His father says. “You play on a team, so you know the purpose of teamwork.”
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“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

“What are ya now, by the way?”
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“Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says.

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.
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“Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.
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“Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil.

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock.
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“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.

His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.
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“You guys jerk off together, these days?” His dad asks, “Back when I was in high school me and several of my friends would jerk-off in our trucks in the parking lot. We were so horny we could barely sit in our seats. You ever do that Garrett?”

“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.
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“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

“Back in the day, back before we turned into a modern society, a man would grab another man’s balls and swear an oath on them in his hand and state his words to be true. To be a friend” His father says. “Do you know what I mean, son?”
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“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.”

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.
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He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

“What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.
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“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.
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“Do it!” His dad orders.

“That you are, son. You are busting at the seams with your youth and muscles. Rippled from those vigorous physical workouts and stroking sessions. I bet.” His dad says. “You are gonna hafta to take care of that or you are gonna be miserable. You know that son, doncha. You know, I am right.”
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Daddy smiled and said, “ that is my good boy. Don’t even want to leave your daddy’s Ripe socks on the floor. That’s the respect I love boy.” I then was told to clean his left foot. “Scrub these whitish paste out in my toenails. I want you to smell and place them in your mouth and let me see.” Daddy commented. It smelled and tasted like Brie cheese. Then I moved my tongue in between daddy’s toes. I cleaned up so well. Just thought I was finished. Daddy said,” the sole is clammy. It has nature feet oil after a whole day in the shoes, you think you finished fag. Keep working on that.”

“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection.
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“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock.

“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock.
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“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.”

“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.”
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He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel.