Med Mina snälla hundar!!
Visst ser dom snälla ut……?
Caisa är alltid snäll. Försöker på sin höjd puss ihjäl sina offer..
Kommer sakna henne, då hon åker iväg med mamma och pappa till landet i ca en vecka…. Behöver få lite ensam tid med Blenda så vi kan träna på lite allt möjligt bara hon och jag!
Dax att till gymmet bege sig…
Personlig tränare och hälsoinspiratör sedan tio år tillbaka. Bloggar samt skriver artiklar och krönikor för Hälsa & Fitness, en av Sveriges största tidningar och sajter inom just träning och hälsa. Baserad i Stockholm och jobbar på SATS Sjöstaden, men återvänder med jämna mellanrum till Göteborg.
Vill du anlita mig för en föreläsning eller ett samarbete, kontakta mig på frida@inmood.se eller 0737 – 75 04 71.
I don’t think the title of your article matches the content lol. Just kidding, mainly because I had some doubts after reading the article.
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“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. porno dla dzieci “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.
“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. https://arturzasada.pl/ – free porn sex His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face.
His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son. free porn sex “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”
The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”
“Once you plant that cock of yours in some squirmy hole and empty those warm balls of yours into a moist wet hole. Then you are on your way to becoming a man, and only then will you, come-of-age. But it is only a step onto the winding pathway towards manhood. It is my job to teach you what it means to be a man.” His father stands as he finishes his sentence. Loosening his belt and pulling his shirt out from the tucked confines of his pants. “Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says.
“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. “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.
“FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region. 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.
His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face. “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?”
“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.” “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.
Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose. “I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.”
“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. 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.
“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. “Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis.
“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly.
“Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?”
“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.
“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?”
“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words.
“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.
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“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.”
“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly.
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.
“Do it!” His dad orders.