Tömde kameran på Berlinbilder häromdagen och hittade ett gäng bilder från vår semester också. Så nu finns de här om du vill ha lite sommar och sol igen.
Semester förresten, var uppdelad i tre delar i år. Vi började med bilresa genom 12 länder. (Bilderna finns här). Sen blev det en vecka på landet. Och så en vecka i Stockholm med ganska mycket turistande. Picknick på Långholmen, en tur till Reimersholme, båttur till Drottningholm, middagskryssning i skärgården, sightseeingtur runt Kungsholmen. Och så massa häng i vår favoritpark. Härligt! Det var de bilderna jag hittade i kameran nu.
Sommar och sol. Åhhh!
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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.” porn sex “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.
“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock. https://arturzasada.pl/ – gej porno “You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son.
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. The now lukewarm water streams through the curls of his hair rinsing away the last vestiges of the soapy lather. It all goes down the drain in a swirl of bubbles.
He dries himself but his throbbing cock continues to pulse as it grows harder because of his youth. The sensation intensifies. The feeling is wonderful. He can hear his cock throbbing in his ears. “Back in the day, back before we turned into a modern society, a man would grab another man’s balls and swear an oath on them in his hand and state his words to be true. To be a friend” His father says. “Do you know what I mean, son?”
“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!” “You have not fucked, have you, my son? Have you?” His father asks, as he readjusts the cock covered and swelling in his khaki pants. “I thought as much.”
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.” “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.”
“What are you now, son?” “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.
“That you are, son. You are busting at the seams with your youth and muscles. Rippled from those vigorous physical workouts and stroking sessions. I bet.” His dad says. “You are gonna hafta to take care of that or you are gonna be miserable. You know that son, doncha. You know, I am right.” “What are you now, son?”
“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.”
“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure.
“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.”
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.
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“Coach told us. To go beat off. Seeing all those tents in our shorts; he said we should have all been working out naked. Our shorts weren’t covering up, anything, as our cock’s periscoped out and over the elastic waistbands of our shorts.” He says to his dad as he steps from the shower.
His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.
“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.”
“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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