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last news about play doghouse
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I didn’t move and I didn’t want to move because the smell in there is so toxic. I can smell daddy’s unwashed ass in there. I was also so happy as daddy sat on the toilet to released his scent just for me to sniff. Just when The scent faded away I heard the daddy say, “Come here, boy.” I saw daddy sitting on my couch with nothing but a white brief on. The bulge was staring at me. I knew I was going to be having a wonderful night. His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.

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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. “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

“Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.” “Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.”

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“What are you now, son?” “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.

Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.” “You are grown. Yes. Physically. Yes, my son. But a full man. No! No!” His father, says, sharply. “You have much more to grow, to mature, before you are a man, before you can call yourself. A man.”

“FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region. “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

“But you didn’t though, did you, son?” His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face.

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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. Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.”

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“And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.” He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.

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“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks. He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.