おなまえ
Ｅメール
タイトル
コメント > перко турникеты <a href=http://sigmavision.ru>http://sigmavision.ru</a> .
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）

“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

“What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face. His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.

“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 father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds.

Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap. “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

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. “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.”

He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them. He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.

“Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice. “You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son.

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters.

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid.

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. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

“What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants. He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.

“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.” Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.

He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them. His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.

“Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad. “Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection.

“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?” “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

<a href=https://dzen.ru/news161ru>www.dzen.ru/news161ru</a>

новости ростовской области
<a href=https://dzen.ru/news161ru>www.dzen.ru/news161ru</a>

His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass. 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.”

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “I don’t wanna jack-off, dad.” He says flabbergasted to his dad as he turns off the tap to the hot and chilly water in 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. Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.