Daddy dick (m/m/f)

[LawrenceJ]

She met him at the gym - not a crowded, shabby, council-run gym, but the gym of businessmen and women. A steely, solid, serious-minded place. She had been using it for years because it was handy for the office. It was her private place, The would in which she could devote herself to her body. Feel strong and alive and fiery. In the silence of her shower, she would let her fingers roam up her taut belly to caress her 34C titties, and then down to her shaved pussy: just enjoying her firmness, softness and sweetness. What with the high of endorphins from her workout, it was no wonder she sometimes got aroused while she was still on the gymnasium floor, particularly when there were men like William walking around. He was in his twenties m, built like Chris Hemsworth and just as tall; what really attracted her to him was the way he wore a hooded sweattop and baggy jogging pants. She knew from these that he was serious and building his body, not just about showing it off - and she guessed, quite correctly, that he was not gay.

She struck up conversation by the water cooler. It was easily done. She knew she was good looking, and here she was in spandex, directing all her energy at him. She didn’t look eager: this was a serious business. But she wanted him to fuck her into the middle of next week. And although the conversation was all about the heat of the showers, he interpreted her correctly from the start.

Things had to be done right, though.

He took her out for dinner. He looked even bigger and stronger in a Savile Row suit. He had one of those haircuts that are the province of.young men: like a pomaded Mohican. He was serious about treating her like a lady. He ordered steak and demolished it like a machine. He said all the right things about business. They were both, after all, in the money making business. They were both serious and successful.

His big hand brushed hers as they shared a dessert. He bent low, bringing his mouth to the spoon, lapping salty caramel with precision and delicacy. He was showing her what he could do. When he was done, the spoon gleamed and her panties were wet.

He wanted her.

He invited her to his house on the Sussex Downs, and she demurred - it was one of those months when there was too much to do, her diary was packed, stuffed full. She would be exhausted. He would have to wait.

This he seemed happy to do. He told her he would welcome her in a month’s time, after all the hard work. He would help her relax. Unwind. Become herself again.

And when the time came, the weather was blazing hot. The Downs were drying out in the sun, trees glistening, the air thin and yielding. He had told her - not asked her - to bring swimwear. Now he showed her the pool, surface glittering in the sunlight. She arrived on the poolside in a black bikini top. He was in a bathrobe, but he dropped it. He was tall, hairless, sculpted. He looked hard but she could not be sure. She longed for contact.

Their mouths, first. Their tongues intermingling in the heat of the day as they stood on the brink of the pool. She could smell his lust for her. She could feel him raging to invade. Now his mouth worked down her throat, stubbles chin lightly brushing the tops of her breasts. Kissing slowly downward until he was pulling at her bikini top with his lower lip. Then the top had slipped and his firm teeth were ever so gently on the sensitive tit.

She purred.

“Sit,” he told her.

There was a wooden bench piled with cushions. She sat, looking at him. He knelt, kissed her again, travelling from mouth to nipple to belly to grin. He began to attend to her. In a serious fashion. Slowly, deliberately, listening to her and responding or teasing as appropriate.

Now he stood, and rugged down his swimming trunks. She couldn’t help a slight feeling of disappointment at his size. Everything about him was the ultimate in sexuality and she had been imagining something of seven or eight inches to match. Still, it made it slightly easier to blow him, and she worked with some of the same attentiveness he had shown her.

She had just undone her bikini top and thrown away her bottoms when the phone rang.
“Jesus,” he said, getting to his feet.
“Leave it,” she told him, precum on her lips, a longing to be touched in every limb.
“We both know there are some calls one can’t ignore,” he said, smiling and pulling up his swimwear. “But I won’t take long over it.”
And he was gone.
She was slightly pissed off. She tried to enjoy simply sunbathing on the poolside. But her body was pulsing. Her pussy had been primed by his supple tongue. Her fingers drifted down to it, just to keep the fire burning.
She could hear him, very remotely, talking on the phone. So, what was that footstep on the patio?
A man stepped out into the sunlight. “Oh,” he said.
She gasped, and withdrew her fingers from her wet hole to cover up her large tits. She could smell her juices as well as her sweat and felt certain he could scent them too. He was silhouetted against the sun. He made no move to withdraw, as though it were his right to look her up and down in this (or any) state.
“Do pardon me for interrupting,” he purred. “My son did ask that i avoid him today but as I heard him on the phone, I naturally assumed you were not here yet. A gentleman ought not to leave his lady for something so tawdry as business.”
“I have to agree,” she said. “Perhaps you were a poor role model.”
He laughed urbanely and sat in a chair close by. He couldn’t take his eyes off her body. She took him in. Somewhere in his forties with the same genetic disposition to height, handsomeness and strength as his son. She found she didn’t mind his gaze.

“Maybe,” he said. “But if anything, I have always been too attentive to the fairer sex. They have always had a hold over me. I can’t resist.”

She drank him in. He was approaching fifty but as groomed, virile and athletic as his son. He wore a crisp Lacoste polo shirt and cream-coloured chinos, belted sigh tan leather. His eyes were hidden behind Aviator sunglasses.
And, she realised suddenly, he was hard. Supremely hard. She could see the long thick shape of his erection stretching down the leg of his smart trousers. It was obscene: longer and fatter than any she had seen before. It seemed to grow twitchingly larger as she watched, and her eyes were fixated on it. Hypnotised, her right hand went back to her cleft; her left hand tweaked her right nipple. She bit her lip and tried to look away, back to his face.

He was smiling a dirty smile. “Ah,” he said, “you noticed.” He threw a glance back toward the house, then returned his attention fully to her. “Well,” he said, “what shall we do about it?”


To be continued...

 

[Dave K]

Great start!

 

[pants73]

hope you don't let us wating too much for the next chapter.

 

[LawrenceJ]

Great start!

Here comes part 2!

 

[LawrenceJ]

hope you don't let us wating too much for the next chapter.

Here comes part 2!

 

[LawrenceJ]

“Do?” she said. “I’m not doing anything.”



“Too late,” he said, adjusting very slightly in his chair. “We’ve already begun.”



“Erm,” she said, “no, we haven’t.” And she looked away.



“I’ve heard that one before.” His voice, when she wasn’t looked at him, seemed to vibrate with even more timbre, like the resonance of thunder when the storm is virtually on top of you. She felt her pussy muscles throb, her skin tickling with electricity. He was all the sexual potency of his son, all the muscularity, height and masculinity, cooked long and slow into the ultimate urbane specimen. But if he thought he had claimed her with a few words, she would show him her steel.



“You must have played this trick with other women, then,” she said. “That’s why your timing is so precise.”



“I’ve never gone against a maiden’s consent.”



“Well, take my refusal for what it is.”



“I’ll willingly listen to your words,” he purred. “If you’ll also let me read what your body is saying.”



Her nipples were stiff as if the air had the sharpness of winter, in defiance of the sun’s blaze. She put up an arm to cover them, and her own touch, skin on skin, only aroused her the more. Her lips were dry. Her heartbeat pounded. She felt his eyes on her – and knew she should stir, walk away, out of his sight. But there was pleasure even in the invisible, pulsing beam of his close attention on her flesh, her response and her resistance.



Her resistance only drew his attention with a more powerful gravity. But she knew she must resist, if only because – and yes, it was only because – the danger of discovery was too great.



“You’re a very attractive man,” she admitted, her voice cracklingly husky.



“Now your words and your body appear to be in agreement,” he said. “I did tell you we had already begun. As soon as a connection happens between two people, it’s unstoppable. I wouldn’t proceed if I hadn’t read the look in your eyes, you cock-hungry slut.”



“I don’t need to be hungry,” she told him. “Don’t forget your son.”



“He’ll leave you hungry,” he told her. “You know it. However far he takes you. However much he gives you. You’ll always be empty. You’ll always be wanting more.”



“Maybe that’s happened in the past –”



“Yes,” he said. “No maybe’s. It always happens. Once they know what you know.”



“Oh?” It was meant to sound coy. The sound emerged, instead, like a groan of need. From right down in the hot, wet cave of her vulva. Still, she refused to look at him. Still, she saw him. Cream-coloured chinos. Creased along one thigh. Stretched taut around that gun-like shape. The grotesque squared mushroom bulge some distance down his thigh. The tiny dark stain of pre-cum on the clean, starched material.



“Once they know,” he said, “What you know.”



“What you’ve got,” she muttered, drawing back her arm so that the sweaty forearm raked against her angry nipples and sensitive breasts. Slipping a hand back between her legs, but at the final moment, holding back from touching – just resting there. Just holding back from satisfaction. Still, she would not turn her head.



“Go on.”



“What he’s got.”



“Go on, my dear.”



“And what you can give me – that he never can – your own son…”



“And what you want to receive. What you need.”



She couldn’t resist. She unwound to him. She turned back to him, opened her legs, took a nipple of each of her titties between finger and thumb. “But not right now.”



“Yes, now.”

“But not right now – he’ll catch us…”


“He’s on the phone. He left you and I came along.”



“But he’ll know.”



“He’ll know when it happens, anyway. He’ll see that you’ve been taken by a bigger alpha than him. He’ll read it in your eyes, your touch, that juicy little pussy of yours. He’ll smell me on you.”



She found she ached for that discovery. To cuckold the young buck and remind him of the supreme power of woman and man in their ascendant. If only he was watching this exchange now, she thought. Her trembling seduction. Her deepening thirst.



“Are you sure?”



“It doesn’t matter what either of us think, or him for that matter,” he said, getting to his feet and unbuttoning his chinos. Reaching inside. “This is beyond girlfriend-boyfriend, beyond family. It’s animal. I can’t wait – and neither can do.”



And she knew he was right.





To be continued…

 

[pants73]

Great you need to tell more.....I can't wait to know what happens next.

 

[1760]

Fantastic!

 

[LawrenceJ]

He stood over her, blotting out the sun. She felt almost feverishly hot anyway. Heat came in waves through naked form, radiating from between her legs, where the juices trickled. She looked up at him: he stood, impassive, waiting for her to begin. It was like sitting at the feet of an amazing religious totem. The rest of the world, her morality, her choices seemed to shape themselves around this encounter: her yielding, his erectness, her submission, his size.

She reached out, tentatively, as though to touch a hotplate, for the bulge in his trousers. Now that he stood, it was defined sharply against the smooth tautness of his chinos. It looked urgent and imperious. It looked as if it was waiting to be freed.

It was hot too, she found. Heat met heat. And as touch met flesh, even through the starched material, she felt it respond. It hardened. Like a muscle flexing after a workout, it swelled and strengthened.

Just for a moment, it grew.

She ran her fingers up and down the bulge, trying to estimate the size of the thing. She had never known one like this. Of all the partners she had had, the biggest had been half the size of this daddy dick. She had thought that one was big; she had thought it was thick. Yes, she had fantasised about it now and again and fingered her little pussy thinking about it. Yes, perhaps she really was a little cock hungry slut like he had called her.

She pressed her face to his crotch and felt the heft of his bulge, fabric-wrapped, between her lips. She put her face under the buttons of his trousers and felt the soft hugeness of his ballsack. She was filled with longing,

She undid the top button of his trousers.

She saw his Calvin Klein waistband, moulded onto a rock-hard ridge of flesh inviting her down.

She unbuttoned, slowly. She was increasingly conscious of it, the ‘elephant in the room’, even if she could not free it yet, could not see it all. It was still wrapped in cloth and strapped down to the thigh by his clothing.

She pulled the trousers down to his knees, and jerked back in shock.

The huge purple head of his hard-on erupted unexpectedly from the end of his boxer-briefs. In fact, there were several inches of cock as well as the head. The underwear didn’t adequately cover it at all, just pinned it against his thigh. The head of the cock was a royal pink-purple and flared in an elegant, shield-like shape, round as an apple. It was bigger even than she had expected.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “That is some daddy dick.”

“You like that daddy dick?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You think it’s the biggest you’ve ever seen?”

“Mmmm.”

“You want to belong to this daddy dick, you dirty little slut…?”

She reached for it with her tongue outstretched, but he grabbed her hair.

“Young lady,” he purred, “I asked you a question. Do you want to belong to this juicy piece of daddy dick?”

“I want to get owned by it,” she said. She had no idea where the words came from. She was inspired by the atmosphere of the moment.

“And when I own you, you won’t take any smaller dick without my permission?”

“Oh no,” she said. “I promise.”

If the board of any one of her businesses could see her now, she thought, what would they think? She was known as inviolable, powerful, wise, strong, even dangerous. She had made a lot of money. She was also beautiful, slender and well-built where it mattered.

But perhaps they would understand if she submitted to a monster daddy dick like this one. One that radiated heat and the smell of hot flesh and precum.

Her ‘Daddy’ peeled off his boxers and the mighty cock sprung free. She measured it against her forearm and yes, it was bigger. She grabbed it at the base, put another fist around it, and still there was room for a third hand on the shaft, never mind the head.

She opened wide and let it slide into her throat.

As she began to fuck her face, she opened her eyes to look up at him: his sinewed muscle, his height, his sophistication. She caught a movement in the distance.

She gagged as he thrust deep into her throat, and he withdrew, a length of precummy drool connecting them now like the chain of a slave. Gasping, she looked up at the house – had she seen what she thought she saw?

Yes, it was the son, no longer talking on the phone, but watching from an upper window. Watching his dad own her with his monster fuckstick.



(To be continued)

 

[LawrenceJ]

Great you need to tell more.....I can't wait to know what happens next.

I just posted the next section.

 

[LawrenceJ]

Fantastic!

The next part is now available, mate.

 

[Dave K]

He stood over her, blotting out the sun. She felt almost feverishly hot anyway. Heat came in waves through naked form, radiating from between her legs, where the juices trickled. She looked up at him: he stood, impassive, waiting for her to begin. It was like sitting at the feet of an amazing religious totem. The rest of the world, her morality, her choices seemed to shape themselves around this encounter: her yielding, his erectness, her submission, his size.

She reached out, tentatively, as though to touch a hotplate, for the bulge in his trousers. Now that he stood, it was defined sharply against the smooth tautness of his chinos. It looked urgent and imperious. It looked as if it was waiting to be freed.

It was hot too, she found. Heat met heat. And as touch met flesh, even through the starched material, she felt it respond. It hardened. Like a muscle flexing after a workout, it swelled and strengthened.

Just for a moment, it grew.

She ran her fingers up and down the bulge, trying to estimate the size of the thing. She had never known one like this. Of all the partners she had had, the biggest had been half the size of this daddy dick. She had thought that one was big; she had thought it was thick. Yes, she had fantasised about it now and again and fingered her little pussy thinking about it. Yes, perhaps she really was a little cock hungry slut like he had called her.

She pressed her face to his crotch and felt the heft of his bulge, fabric-wrapped, between her lips. She put her face under the buttons of his trousers and felt the soft hugeness of his ballsack. She was filled with longing,

She undid the top button of his trousers.

She saw his Calvin Klein waistband, moulded onto a rock-hard ridge of flesh inviting her down.

She unbuttoned, slowly. She was increasingly conscious of it, the ‘elephant in the room’, even if she could not free it yet, could not see it all. It was still wrapped in cloth and strapped down to the thigh by his clothing.

She pulled the trousers down to his knees, and jerked back in shock.

The huge purple head of his hard-on erupted unexpectedly from the end of his boxer-briefs. In fact, there were several inches of cock as well as the head. The underwear didn’t adequately cover it at all, just pinned it against his thigh. The head of the cock was a royal pink-purple and flared in an elegant, shield-like shape, round as an apple. It was bigger even than she had expected.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “That is some daddy dick.”

“You like that daddy dick?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You think it’s the biggest you’ve ever seen?”

“Mmmm.”

“You want to belong to this daddy dick, you dirty little slut…?”

She reached for it with her tongue outstretched, but he grabbed her hair.

“Young lady,” he purred, “I asked you a question. Do you want to belong to this juicy piece of daddy dick?”

“I want to get owned by it,” she said. She had no idea where the words came from. She was inspired by the atmosphere of the moment.

“And when I own you, you won’t take any smaller dick without my permission?”

“Oh no,” she said. “I promise.”

If the board of any one of her businesses could see her now, she thought, what would they think? She was known as inviolable, powerful, wise, strong, even dangerous. She had made a lot of money. She was also beautiful, slender and well-built where it mattered.

But perhaps they would understand if she submitted to a monster daddy dick like this one. One that radiated heat and the smell of hot flesh and precum.

Her ‘Daddy’ peeled off his boxers and the mighty cock sprung free. She measured it against her forearm and yes, it was bigger. She grabbed it at the base, put another fist around it, and still there was room for a third hand on the shaft, never mind the head.

She opened wide and let it slide into her throat.

As she began to fuck her face, she opened her eyes to look up at him: his sinewed muscle, his height, his sophistication. She caught a movement in the distance.

She gagged as he thrust deep into her throat, and he withdrew, a length of precummy drool connecting them now like the chain of a slave. Gasping, she looked up at the house – had she seen what she thought she saw?

Yes, it was the son, no longer talking on the phone, but watching from an upper window. Watching his dad own her with his monster fuckstick.



(To be continued)

Hope u don't take too long to continue...

 

[pants73]

Now we need know what is next. That is one of the amazing story I have ever read.

He stood over her, blotting out the sun. She felt almost feverishly hot anyway. Heat came in waves through naked form, radiating from between her legs, where the juices trickled. She looked up at him: he stood, impassive, waiting for her to begin. It was like sitting at the feet of an amazing religious totem. The rest of the world, her morality, her choices seemed to shape themselves around this encounter: her yielding, his erectness, her submission, his size.

She reached out, tentatively, as though to touch a hotplate, for the bulge in his trousers. Now that he stood, it was defined sharply against the smooth tautness of his chinos. It looked urgent and imperious. It looked as if it was waiting to be freed.

It was hot too, she found. Heat met heat. And as touch met flesh, even through the starched material, she felt it respond. It hardened. Like a muscle flexing after a workout, it swelled and strengthened.

Just for a moment, it grew.

She ran her fingers up and down the bulge, trying to estimate the size of the thing. She had never known one like this. Of all the partners she had had, the biggest had been half the size of this daddy dick. She had thought that one was big; she had thought it was thick. Yes, she had fantasised about it now and again and fingered her little pussy thinking about it. Yes, perhaps she really was a little cock hungry slut like he had called her.

She pressed her face to his crotch and felt the heft of his bulge, fabric-wrapped, between her lips. She put her face under the buttons of his trousers and felt the soft hugeness of his ballsack. She was filled with longing,

She undid the top button of his trousers.

She saw his Calvin Klein waistband, moulded onto a rock-hard ridge of flesh inviting her down.

She unbuttoned, slowly. She was increasingly conscious of it, the ‘elephant in the room’, even if she could not free it yet, could not see it all. It was still wrapped in cloth and strapped down to the thigh by his clothing.

She pulled the trousers down to his knees, and jerked back in shock.

The huge purple head of his hard-on erupted unexpectedly from the end of his boxer-briefs. In fact, there were several inches of cock as well as the head. The underwear didn’t adequately cover it at all, just pinned it against his thigh. The head of the cock was a royal pink-purple and flared in an elegant, shield-like shape, round as an apple. It was bigger even than she had expected.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “That is some daddy dick.”

“You like that daddy dick?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You think it’s the biggest you’ve ever seen?”

“Mmmm.”

“You want to belong to this daddy dick, you dirty little slut…?”

She reached for it with her tongue outstretched, but he grabbed her hair.

“Young lady,” he purred, “I asked you a question. Do you want to belong to this juicy piece of daddy dick?”

“I want to get owned by it,” she said. She had no idea where the words came from. She was inspired by the atmosphere of the moment.

“And when I own you, you won’t take any smaller dick without my permission?”

“Oh no,” she said. “I promise.”

If the board of any one of her businesses could see her now, she thought, what would they think? She was known as inviolable, powerful, wise, strong, even dangerous. She had made a lot of money. She was also beautiful, slender and well-built where it mattered.

But perhaps they would understand if she submitted to a monster daddy dick like this one. One that radiated heat and the smell of hot flesh and precum.

Her ‘Daddy’ peeled off his boxers and the mighty cock sprung free. She measured it against her forearm and yes, it was bigger. She grabbed it at the base, put another fist around it, and still there was room for a third hand on the shaft, never mind the head.

She opened wide and let it slide into her throat.

As she began to fuck her face, she opened her eyes to look up at him: his sinewed muscle, his height, his sophistication. She caught a movement in the distance.

She gagged as he thrust deep into her throat, and he withdrew, a length of precummy drool connecting them now like the chain of a slave. Gasping, she looked up at the house – had she seen what she thought she saw?

Yes, it was the son, no longer talking on the phone, but watching from an upper window. Watching his dad own her with his monster fuckstick.



(To be continued)

 

[LawrenceJ]

What were her options? She could come fully to her senses, step away from this situation, get a cool head. But how could she explain herself to William? How could she ever come back from getting in this situation with William’s Dad? How could she entirely break off from this humiliating subjugation by William Senior, and William Senior’s monster cock? And when it came down to it – she pulled away from a moment, panting for breath – did she really want to break off from this Daddy dick?

Didn’t she really, really want – didn’t she need – wasn’t she bound, now, to this huge slab of hot, hard, manflesh?

She had been dirtied by it, she had been degraded by it, reduced to a slut.

And she felt deeper pleasure than she had ever felt before.

She glanced back up at the handsome, bearded young man’s face at the window. If she was watching, then fine – give him a show. She angled herself better, so that every detail could be observed. She looked up at the window, looked the young man in the eye, and simultaneously extended her tongue to caress the huge, solid roundness of his father’s dick. The taste was exquisite; the feel of it, as she pressed her lips to it like a kiss, was delicious. The sensation, as it filled her mouth, excited her down to her belly and deeper. She communicated all this pleasure to William. At this angle, the thrust of the cock bulged out her cheek.

See, her look was saying. This is what I really want.

The young man stared back, almost impassively. Then, one huge hand reached up and flicked the nipple on his huge right pectoral. The other hand bobbed into view, and she realised he was very slowly, with perverse satisfaction, wanking over the sight of her with his father.

The vision of her going down on that extra-big dick. Right down to the balls. Till she gagged. Withdrew. Tried again. Slurping. Choking. Moaning. Withdrawing again, and gasping.

“Oh, aren’t you the fast little learner?” purred the man behind the Daddy dick, grabbing the back of her head and pulling her down onto it. He hissed with pleasure. “You can almost take it all, can’t you? Perhaps I should push you further…” He thrust deep into her throat again, caressing her neck. “Harder…” Thrust. “Deeper…” Thrust.

She closed her eyes with pleasure, and let him use her.

A footstep sounded to her right, and here was William Jr., still wanking his dick and watching the pair of them. She prepared herself for his anger.

Instead, he said casually, “How’s she handling the python, Dad?”

William Sr. looked up at smiled. “See for yourself.”

The Son crouched down beside her and watched her take it. She could see him in his peripheral vision, gazing at her with carnal appetite. Then she felt his hands on her titties, stroking and massaging, and tweaking. The Dad kept on fucking her face.

“Oh, she’s so good,” said the Son. “I knew she would be.”

“Great tits too,” said the Dad. “I want to get a taste of them.”

“I want to get my face in her cunt again.” He ran a finger down her belly toward her bush. “May I?”

“By all means,” said the Dad.

“I was talking to her,” said the Son. “Sorry, love, he’s so old-school.”

She smiled, released the huge dick from her mouth, and gave consent.

“You need my permission too,” said the Dad. “She’s not common property. She wanted to be owned by this Daddy dick.”

“Well, she won’t even be able to take the python unless I eat her out for a while and get her nice and juicy,” said the Son, lowering himself to the ground. “You know that as well as I do.”

“You’ve done this before?” she gasped, sitting astride his face.

“Mmm,” he said, getting stuck in.

“It’s kind of a tradition,” said the Dad. “He’s not blessed in the underpants department, but to make up for it, he certainly knows how to eat pussy. Not to mention –”

“Mmmngh!” said the Son, almost warningly.

The Dad laughed. “Later, maybe,” he said, tantalisingly.

The Son certainly knew how to eat, drink and breathe pussy. He teased and tantalised her clit until she felt she might squirt all over her. His hands were still on her boobs, delicately playing with her sensitive nipples. A little whisper of sweat ran down her shoulder blades, and she groaned low and long around the huge heft of the Dad’s fuckstick. That set off the Son, who moaned, right up into her core, it seemed. She was a living flame, dancing on two huge, muscled bodies of kindling.

She came for the first time, her eyes rolling back in her head with pleasure.

“Oh fuck,” she said still wanking the monster cock with both fists, sliding back and forth over its spit-marbled stony size.

Everything stopped. The Dad released the back of her head, and stroked the back of her neck. “You’re ready?”

She swallowed hard. “I’m ready,” she said.

“If you say so,” he said, and smacked the outsize dick against the palm of his hand. “There’s no going back now.” He stepped away, and ran a hand parentally over the hairy expanse of his son’s chest. “Come on, son. You know what to do.”



To be continued.

 

[LawrenceJ]

Now we need know what is next. That is one of the amazing story I have ever read.

Next part is up!

 

[LawrenceJ]

Hope u don't take too long to continue...

Next part is here!

 

[Dave K]

Next part is here!

Thnx!!!

 

[Braiden]

Wow hot story buddy! Hope it continues.

 

[pants73]

I am looking forward to know what is next.

 

[Beuker]

There is an error: first part you say when the son drops the bathrobe he was tall hairless and sculpted. In the last addition you say the dad runs his hand over the hairy expanse of his son’s chest. How can he have a hairy chest when he is hairless?
But damn awesome story!