206 footf@g. A loyal mant in your treads. Post curator here. My own pics can be found on Insta, and vids now on JustForFans! I am underursole everywhere
He flinched when our eyes met & then struggled to do up his zipper. I reached over & offered to help, but started rubbing his belly & his bulge instead. He started blushing.
“Don’t be shy, baby. I like my big boys”
📸: @Man87562tn
The Homeowner’s Son
It was the middle of July, the kind of thick, sticky summer heat that made the air feel heavy and slow. Nineteen-year-old Jack Thompson was home alone in his father’s big suburban house, the long summer stretching out between high school graduation and the start of college in the fall.
Jack was small---barely five-foot-six, slim and waifish with narrow shoulders, a tiny waist, and long, smooth legs. He had a sweet, innocent face: big blue puppy-dog eyes that always looked wide and wondering, and full, soft lips that seemed permanently curved in a gentle, shy smile. His body was completely smooth and hairless, his skin pale. His ass was tiny and round and his thighs were soft and milky white. In the skimpy white athletic shorts he loved to wear, the thick, heavy outline of his massive cut cock was impossible to hide, the fat shaft and heavy balls clearly visible through the thin fabric. His pretty feet were small and curvy, toes perfectly shaped.
Despite being quiet and demure, Jack had always been very popular. People were drawn to his gentle sweetness and his eager desire to help anyone who needed it. He simply liked making others feel good.
His father, Michael, was away on a week-long business trip. Michael was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late forties with powerful arms, a thick chest, and a deep, commanding presence. Ryan, Jack’s older brother, was in the Marines and currently overseas. The house was quiet. Just Jack and the long, empty summer days.
Today, though, things were about to change.
A convoy of pickup trucks rumbled into the driveway around nine in the morning. Construction on the huge new deck out back was finally starting. The crew of eight knew exactly what they were doing---they didn’t even knock. They simply unloaded tools, lumber, and equipment and got straight to work behind the house.
Jack watched them from the big living-room window, wearing nothing but those tiny white shorts. He stood completely still, those big blue eyes wide with soft wonder as he took in the sight of the crew. There are eight of them, he thought. He smiled wryly: This window's gonna be my new favorite place to be.
All eight men were darkly tanned, dirty, and sweaty from the July sun---mostly beastly, rough-looking working men with thick, powerful bodies. There was Marco, the tall, bearded foreman---six-three, heavily muscled, dark hair matted across his broad chest. Big Tommy, the bald giant with a massive gut and arms like tree trunks. Vince, the cocky tattooed blond with a sharp grin and a lean, athletic body. Steve, Derek, Kyle, Paul, and Tank---all of them broad, hairy, sweat-slick, and radiating raw masculine energy as they hauled heavy planks and set up sawhorses in the blazing heat.
Jack’s breath caught as the men started stripping off their shirts. Broad backs, thick arms, and hairy chests glistened under the sun. His eyes lingered on the way their worn jeans hugged powerful thighs and the obvious, heavy bulges at the front.
He couldn’t help it. He stared.
After a few minutes, Jack remembered the mail. He slipped on a pair of flip-flops and stepped outside, the tiny white shorts riding high on his smooth, creamy-white thighs as he walked down the driveway to the mailbox.
The moment he appeared, the crew noticed.
Tools clattered to the ground. Hammers stopped mid-swing. Conversations died.
Jack felt every pair of eyes on him as he bent slightly to open the mailbox, the tiny shorts pulling tight across his little round hand-sized ass and highlighting the thick outline of his massive cock. When he straightened up with the small stack of envelopes, he turned toward the crew and gave them a shy, sweet smile.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice gentle and polite. “I’m Jack. Thanks for working on the deck.”
[Continued in first reply]
1 YEAR GROWINGMACHINE 🎉🎂💪🏻
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🎧SOUND ON 🎧
Experience my webcomic “Special Task” part 1-9 like never before. This time with sound, edited together as a full version video. Let me know what you think. 😏
#macrophilia#sizetwitter#animation#nsfw#giant#cockvore#cum#vore 💦
@justinpageft The sweat because of the scent and taste! Maybe also any rough spots for my mouth to play with.
Or the shoes they're in because then I get the shoes, the socks and bare feet in one laced up package to open while you relax ^_^
Looks like these tinys survived their day trapped in depths of my sneaks and massive feet pressing them deeper into the insole.
Think you could last a day trapped in there?
#sneakerdom#sockdom#sneakerdom#gaysneakers#maleshoes#gayfeetfetish#gayshoefetish#sneakerslaves #sneakermaster #sockfetish #malefeet #footmaster #sweatyfeetworship #sweatyfeets #sweatyfeetfetish #malefeet #malefeetfetish #barefoot #gayfeetmaster #macro #macrophilia #giant #malegiant #shrinking #giantandtiny #sizetwitter #findom #cashmaster #cashpig #feet #malefeet #footfetish #giantfeet #shoecrush