Mick had given up trying to hold it back–to hold it in. He had enlisted his son’s help in cleaning out the rental house he owned–the last tenet had skipped out on the lease and left the place a complete sty–and everything had been going well, until the jockstrap. Mick had found it in the bedroom a few days prior, and just…hadn’t been able to throw it away. He’d stashed it, and whenever his son was out of the room, he’d take a sniff, or a lick, or a suck…

Ty had gone out for cleaning supplies, and Mick just hadn’t been able to resist any longer–and so he stripped down and pulled on the stiff jock…and then he hadn’t been able to stop. Now here he was, sitting in the living room, the old tenet’s clothes on–the filthiest ones he could dig out of the trash bags they’d filled already, waiting for his son to come back.

He took a deep drag off the half smoked cigar he’d found in an ashtray and ran his hands up his arms, amazed at how fast the dingy hair had spread. He even had a goatee now, and some of the most disgusting pit stench he’d ever smelled, but he loved it. With the groan, he let loose a blast of piss into the front of the jock, feeling it run off the seat of the chair and puddle on the floor, but that didn’t matter. He’d just have his son lick it up when he got back–after he finishes giving his dirty old Pa a bath.

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