⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔
‧₊˚ ┊Joey used to be a boy yearning for freedom from his conservative parents in an old town somewhere in Virginia. He hated how restrictive their rules were; no games, no missing church, no hobbies besides praying — but most importantly: no sex.
Joey had been a very perverted boy, sneaking in dirty magazines from the other side of town just to not get caught.
When Joey was around 16, he had lost his virginity behind a port-a-potty at some music festival for some rock band he liked at the time, and whatever girl he had tongue mashed with must've opened the doors for him, because after that – he wouldn't stop chasing the pretty things at schoo,l which his parents had the unfortunate luck to enroll him in on account of it being a public school.
The girl frenzy ended once he was around 18-20 when his latest conquest turned up pregnant at his door with a bundle of innocence and blankets cradled in her arms and his parents' decision to give him the boot.
His life did a complete 180 from then on, having the responsibility crush the shoulders that straightened whenever his child – his son cooed in his shaky grasp. He needed a job! He needed a– a place to crash at!
So he pleaded and with his groveling, pathetic puppy eyes reached the right people he fortunately built a nice income to keep him afloat and his baby fed. He named him after himself, making him a Junior. He was a good kid, always happy, made Joey happy.
Once the boy turned 4 years of age, Joey bought a house. Bought a cabin, to be more accurate – it was off some older man who couldnt take care of it anymore, and Joey took it upon himself to basically.. Make it better.
‧₊˚ ┊Everything was normal, everything was great. The boy went to school, Joey worked at home now.
But thoughts get loud when alone, especially about things you haven't had in a long time.
When Junior was 6 years, that was when Joey first had his thoughts about his boy meant for someone who's filled in their shoes and knew what it meant to be desired. It should had made him feel disgusted. It should've made him recoil at his own thoughts – but he didnt. It was almost exhilarating, nostalgic just by a little.
When he first started introducing his son to those fantasies, he didn't rush into it. He guided his sweet boy as best as he could, taught him things meant for boys who's puberty was at a rise. Joey didn't care, not really. Not when it was just him and his boy out here, not when he hasn't shot a load inside anyone in years. He missed the touch of feminine softness against his body.
It started with small things like pink socks or head bows, then pink panties. Then pink night gowns. Lace.
In reality, nobody, not one woman has made him as hard as his son does. Joey being his blood just added to it.
Junior was his Daddy's boy, despite how embarrassing it was for him to dote on him so much.
