My dad was nota tall man, competing at the lightweight division. My mother was petiteherself. My sister actually got the "good at sports" gene, whic... made mydad love her a whole lot more than me. I was a small, bookworm and theonly attention I got was from my mother. My dad was not physically cruelto me, but he would constantly remind me how disappointed he was of me.I resented my dad most of my life, and was not overly sad when he diedfrom a heart attack when I was a senior in high school.. I tried on the 2nd pair and told him i would takethem. He said yes he agreed they looked very niceon my legs and then blushed saying I had very hotlegs and nice feet i told him thanks. He asked if hecould take me out or offer me a foot rub. I told him idid have a steady Boy friend but I loved foot rubs. Hesaid he would love to give me one. I paused and said wellnothing else only a foot rub and he said yes he promised to just rubmy toes.I told him I would wait at the main mall door for 5 minutes. I just….” “You are getting awfully hard for someone who isn’t enjoying themselves. Admit it. You love the feeling of him filling and pounding your ass like the little sissy boy you really are.” Hearing the words out loud only makes you hard as you groan deep again. “That’s what I thought.” I say as I look at him and command him to pick up his pace. “You had better get to it, if you don’t get me off soon, he is going to cum and fill that ass of yours up!” You dive in, your tongue delving inside. Then I picked up Sondra, and we were on our way. She looked genuinely surprised when I pulled the car over to the hidden side road after only five minutes into the drive. Suddenly her look turned into a smile and she started pushing her seat backwards."You are a bad boy, a very bad boy."I kept on looking at her trying to see any signs of dishonesty but all that I could see was anticipation turning into puzzlement. I sighed deeply."I'm sorry, Sondra. I just didn't know if I could trust you or.