Loving Our Cocks

Have you heard of homes that are all male, dad, sons, maybe uncle or grandpa? Because there are no women around, they just decide why not be naked all the time? Well that's my family. Only guys, my 2 brothers and I, my dad and my Uncle Ned. So last Tuesday when we get home from high school, we go upstairs and take off all of our clothes. I waggle my cock and George pings my cockhead (like with your thumb and forefinger ) and I chuckle. When we go downstairs I mention my buddy Simon, who wants to come back, because he enjoyed visiting the last time. The freedom. We played board games, watched a movie, made a snack. NBD. They talked to me while I was taking a shit. Again, NBD. The 3 of us: George, Frank and me sit down on the sofa and turn on Jeopardy. Frank starts distractedy fondling his cock. George and I flip ours back and forth, laughing. George starts tugging his balls. Pretty soon, we’re pumping and stroking in earnest. Just then, our Dad comes in. He says something like: Caught you in the act!” And we all break up laughing. Then he says, ”Mind if I join in?” And we say:”Of course not! “Come on in Pop!” Go for it, Dad.” So Dad leisurely takes off his business suit, starting with his shoes, black socks, folding up his trousers, pulling down his blue boxer briefs. He says: “Oops, I dropped something”, bending over to reveal his white ass and exposing his dark, downy assnook, and his clenched asshole. Then he farts. We bust out laughing again. "Hey dad, show some MERCY!" Then dad sits on a chair facing us, slowly, slowly fondling his fine, veined, purplish cock. “That’s right Dad, show us how it’s done!” We returned to charming our own boners, tracing under our cockheads, cradling our balls, while Pop gripped and slipped his massive cock, like a champ. He even dabbed his mansap and tasted it. He looked over at me with the most conspiratorial grin, and winked. I shuddered happily. Frank was first. He started grunting, louder and louder, till the bubbly jizz splattered and arced and then Frank yelped. I was next (needles prickling the soles of my feet) and then George, our faces flushed and sweaty. Relieved and relaxed. Smiling. Then dad stood up, roaring. I mean ROARING, like he was wrestling with his rowdy cock. That’s how we men are. You gots to yell and yell some more while you wield that cobra. Jets and jets pulsed and shot out of his plum head. George came back with a towel and we passed it around, our hair all wet and our asses damp and funky. I wouldn’t have thought so, but Dad, spontaneously, hugged the three of us close and strong, and said: “I’m so proud of my sons. (Next week he hugged Simon, too.) What did it even mean? But you know, it was absolutely the best thing he could have said. We were men, loving our cocks, loving our manhood, loving each other, and loving our dad.