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.” “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway.

“Do it!” His dad orders. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

The pre-cum leaks, like a babbling brook, from the boy’s erect and pulsing cock, depositing its tiny droplets of juice onto the arm-hairs of his proud father. His father squeezes the nuts of his son, tighter and tighter, releasing more of the youthful essence. Garrett nods to his father.

The innovative method developed by French scientists Biot and Peroz enhances sugar crystallization, increasing yield from 50 to 95 pounds of refined product. Additionally, they’ve devised a new technique to extract sugar from beets using water filtration, improving efficiency and reducing production costs. Just as in the slope game, where precise moves lead to victory, these advancements strategically optimize sugar production, benefiting the industry significantly.

“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 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.

“What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks. The one shower after his workout and practice had been a good start. But the walk home had tired him. But the massaging jets of water caressing across his muscular frame takes the weariness from his bones from this stressful day.

“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.

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

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