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コメント > “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.
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“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.”

“You guys jerk off together, these days?” His dad asks, “Back when I was in high school me and several of my friends would jerk-off in our trucks in the parking lot. We were so horny we could barely sit in our seats. You ever do that Garrett?”

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 managed to lift nearly two hundred today. I believe.” He explains. “But I strained a lot to do it. I was moaning. Groaning.”

“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.”

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.”

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.

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His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid.

“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?”

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

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“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.”

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

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ﾂ本ﾂ古ｪﾂつｪﾂ甘懃ｦ�
http://fluchdesfalken.de/node/6708 http://en.sp-journal.ru/article/17079 https://createc.mhesi.go.th/node/3389