A sunny afternoon nap had me thinking back to summer of 2008..
🕑 Added 2023-11-17 01:37:44 +0000 UTC
A sunny afternoon nap had me thinking back to summer of 2008, a break from college to head back home for a while and catch up with friends, especially the best high school friend bobby…and by proximity his Dad, Bill. I had the biggest crush on Bill…he was an ex football player, a beautiful hard beer belly, and absolutely covered in hair from head to toe. For years I’d try and not stare as he’d walk around his house in whitey tighties…cock flipping around, furry bush reaching out of the red and blue striped fruit of the loom as if it was calling my eyes to stare. He was into NASCAR and drank bud light on Sundays in his recliner…we would sit on the ground playing video games on the second tv…as every time I turned around I would come face to face with the big, white, cotton bulge…dark pubic hair pushing out the side…then there’s me, a horny senior in high school, sitting face level with my best friends Dads bulge staring at me…
Bill knew I liked cock…he caught me numerous times staring at his bulge…always giving me the “it’s ok champ” smirk as he cracked open another beer and turned up the volume. Needless to say I was excited to visit my hometown and see him.
The first night back home from college I had dinner with Bobby and his family, all the while trying to control how hard I stared at Bill…filling out his blue wranglers and plane white shirt. I crashed at their place that night, drinking beer and catching up with Bobby…tired from the travel, the next morning I woke up a bit late and walked to the kitchen to find only Bill sipping coffee…” hey sport, you’re up late! Bobby and the others went out to do some shopping and I’m gonna go to the grocery store. Make yourself at home”
Bill left and I went to hang out in the living room…looking over, I wanted to sit in Bills recliner…as I sat down the smell of Bill covered me…a combination of man musk, sweat, with a hint of patchouli from the beard oil he had worn since I knew him…I closed my eyes and pictured his big round bulge in the whitey tighties…my hand running down my pants…I felt my cock throbbing as I pushed my face into the side of the headrest, taking in his scent, triggering every sexual memory I had of him
I lost control, and my urge to go to his room to find his whitey tighties took over…I’m in his closet, I look down and there they are, lying in the hamper…I stripped down. I wanted to wear them…I wanted to feel what he feels, and to see if my cock and balls fill up the pouch like his do…I laid down on his side of the bed…picked up his favorite shirt on the ground…it smelled of Bill and put me in a trance. I started rubbing my college boy cock…precum dripping out as I covered my face with his shirt…stroking my cock thinking of Bill inside me, as I hear “Johnny?”
I open my eyes. it’s Bill….I’m frozen. He takes three steps towards the bed. We both don’t say anything..“ Johnny, this is perfectly natural…we’re men, we’re meant to make our cocks feel good” …there’s a silence between us…locking eyes as he towers over me…” do you want me to join you? show you how I make my cock feel good? “…I stay silent, hand on my throbbing cock, not knowing what to say…simply nodding yes. He slowly peels his shirt off as he walks to his side of the bed next to me..unzipping his wranglers. he’s in front of me…looking down..the white bulge in his fruit of the loom inches from my face…I could see the light yellow stains on the front..this is everything I always wanted.
My college boy cock felt like it was going to burst…he reached down, strong thick hand around the side of my neck, thumb on my cheek as he kissed me deep, lightly scratching his shadowed beard across my cheek…his lips soft but with a force against mine…his other hand sliding down to my crotch…” I’m gonna make you my goodboy now “
…to be continued
Artwork and literature covered through Copyright(c) 2023 SpudBud/TheFreelanceExplorer Inc. All rights reserved. Any use of or repurposing of material must first require the express written permission from the author.
