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コメント > “Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly. “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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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.” “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

“What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad. “Once you plant that cock of yours in some squirmy hole and empty those warm balls of yours into a moist wet hole. Then you are on your way to becoming a man, and only then will you, come-of-age. But it is only a step onto the winding pathway towards manhood. It is my job to teach you what it means to be a man.” His father stands as he finishes his sentence. Loosening his belt and pulling his shirt out from the tucked confines of his pants.

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

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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.” He reaches and lets his hand glide over his swelled cock. Tickling the head of his bulbous cock with his rough fingertips which sends electric sparks through him and down to his toes.

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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. “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”

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