おなまえ
Ｅメール
タイトル
コメント > “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.” The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.
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）

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. “Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?”

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. “Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!”

“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims. 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.

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.

ﾂ本ﾂ古ｪﾂつｪﾂ甘懃ｦ�
http://app.myprofilebuilder.com/nl/node/31158 http://vechirka.pl.ua/ad/use-dlya-domu/20210 http://www.le-cercle-des-sourires.fr/evnementunique/emsam-pancreatitis-dublin-buy-alabama

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

“Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis. He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.

“Damn it, son! Damn it! Damn it, you hit the mirror above the sink!” His father shouts as the bullets of cum shoot forth from his son’s cock and hits the adjacent mirror directly in front of the porcelain bathroom thrown. His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son.

“What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks. “I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words.

His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid. “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.”

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

He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

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. “Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly.

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. His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.

“Damn it, son! Damn it! Damn it, you hit the mirror above the sink!” His father shouts as the bullets of cum shoot forth from his son’s cock and hits the adjacent mirror directly in front of the porcelain bathroom thrown. “Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body.

“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.” 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.

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.”

All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed. He looks down. And then smiles at his dad.

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. His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.