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コメント > лечение алкоголизма в крыму [url=http://www.xn-----7kcablenaafvie2ajgchok2abjaz3cd3a1k2h.xn--p1ai]лечение алкоголизма в крыму[/url] .
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“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly. That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.”

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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. “This is what a man looks like, son.” His father says as his pants fall to the floor. From his waist out pops his representation of a 40-year-old-man. And father of two teenage boys. His cock.

“I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.” “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”

“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.” “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

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. He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.

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. 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.

“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.” “I ain’t a-talking ‘bout how big ya cock is, boy. I am talking ‘bout ya, weight. Your height.” His dad says. “I kinda figured on how big you are down there. That’s obvious. It makes me proud of you. My son. Of what I created, along with ya mother.”

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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. “I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words.

“This is what a man looks like, son.” His father says as his pants fall to the floor. From his waist out pops his representation of a 40-year-old-man. And father of two teenage boys. His cock. “What are ya now, by the way?”

Exactly a week after, daddy texted me with a different tone saying, “ get your ass ready tonight cause daddy is coming to your place tonight.” He was usually really sweet and nice, I was shot when I got the message. But automatically I said, “ yes daddy!” I guess I am a slutty whore for him right at the beginning as I knew my place where is always going to be inferior. “That’s it! That’s it! That’s it!” His father bellows.

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“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims. His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid.