One night when I was getting ready for bed, I saw him sprawled out on the couch, legs spread in one of his colorful boxer shorts and his white tank top. It was a sight I’d seen many times in my life, but now in the dim-blue glow of the TV, he became something more than just my tired dad.
His arms looked big and strong, reminding me of how he wrapped them around me when we made love. His furry legs caught the light, seeming to make him glow. And between his thighs, I could make out the massive bulge of his manhood, hanging heavy and loose.
Normally I would either try to wake him up or put a blanket on him, but I found myself in the unique position of being able to sneak a closer look at him. I carefully made my way to him, trying to avoid all the creaky spots on the floor before I got to the couch. From there, I got a face full of his socked foot.
Something about the way his socks smelled always got me excited. I never really thought about it as a sexual thing before, more of something like a comfort. It was the smell of my daddy, and I liked it. And having it fresh on his foot was something I’d never really had the chance to experience. The gentle, fragrant scent filled my nostrils as I quietly inhaled, keeping an eye on him in case his eyes should open.
I knew I should walk away, but the moment was calling me to go further. I wrestled with it, but my curiosity and horniness got the better of me.
I moved down his body, trying not to disturb him as I traveled toward his groin. Before I was even in reach of his concealed shaft, I could smell the powerful musk of his balls. They were sweaty and woody, almost like he’d been out hiking or chopping pine trees. It was just like how it was when I first got my mouth on him before. My head began to spin thinking about how much I loved that scent, what it meant to be so close to it, and what it was like to taste him before…
