I could see him squeeze around the head and a drop of clear fluid formed at the tip. I reached down and squeezed my own hard dick through my jeans. I breathed in sharply when I saw his dad run his fingers across the top of his cock, collecting the sticky clear pre cum and bringing them up to his mouth. He rubbed his fingers across his lips and then stuck out his tongue and licked off his own pre cum. I stepped away from the door, afraid he had heard me. I turned to walk away but I couldn’t. I had to see more of him and quickly returned to the crack in the door. I felt light headed as I watched in disbelief. He then placed his hand on his full, tight hairy ball sack and began lightly squeezing them and caressing them with his finger tips. His other hand continued to stroke his thick hard dick. As he stroked himself, I too, stroked myself through my jeans.Within a few moments, I could see his dads body begin to shake slightly. With his hand gripping the base of his dick and his other. Carved in the underbelly of the plank were the words: “Built by CS when I swet fur nothin”. CS had become the hero of the fables we spun for each other as we languished in front of the roaring fire, sipping wine, listening to the rain and making love. The place was too right not to become ours. After nearly a year of searching through county records, writing letters and making phone calls, we had bought the cabin and had signed the twenty-year lease with the Paper Company that owned most of the state. Once the cabin was ours, we had run away to our safe haven nearly every weekend. Every weekend that is, until court. I had gotten stupid and greedy… and had gotten caught. I hadn’t hurt anyone. I hadn’t stolen. I hadn’t even lied. What I had done was to front money for a couple of my former fraternity brothers to start a business that would offer quick returns. What I hadn’t known was that the business was smuggling dope. In the eyes of the court, being the Money Man equaled being the.
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