Snapshot: Gobble Gobble

 

Gobble Gobble

By Jimmy

“I’m not wearing that,” Logan grumbles.

His father only laughs, and holds up his cell phone ready to record.

“That’s fine,” Bradley sighs. “I’ll just text Alex back that you are a coward and backing out.” Bradley makes a big show of putting his phone away, standing up and heading Logan’s bedroom door. Bradley is smiling now that his son can’t see him. Bradley does not even make it to the other side of the room before he hears Logan’s voice and his son’s belt buckle hitting the floor.

“Fine!” Logan growls shoving his jeans to the floor, the blue denim piling around his ankles as he gingerly steps out of them. With a final kick the pants slide across the floor knocking into Bradley’s ankles.

Bradley quickly swipes the smile from his face as he turns back starring at his son, the wrestling captain. “If you are scared or…”

Logan interrupts him and drops his boxers next to the floor, his junk spilling out of his red and white striped prison swinging wildly as he stares daggers into his father’s eyes. The intensity of his stare does not surprise Bradley and he tries to keep his face expressionless and not to give away how excited that he is about kicking his son in the balls.

“This is stupid is all,” Logan says defiantly. “I. Am. Not. Scared.” Logan drags out his words before he tears into the plastic sleeve containing the ridiculous turkey themed underwear.

Bradley takes a step forward considering his words carefully before he speaks them, his blue eyes trying to seem thoughtful as he watches his son with glee muttering about the absurdity of the underwear as he carefully pulls them up over his muscled thighs. “That makes complete sense, I understand now.”

Logan feels the elastic snap against his lower belly, and feels his junk starting to settle into place. The white cloth barely contains his ample nuggets, and large cock, which curls through the turkey’s body in the underwear. Logan gives himself a cursory rub feeling the veins in his lengthy barely contained shaft stating to plump up a bit in the confined underwear. “How does it look?” Logan asks, almost to himself his voice barely above a whisper his lips hardly moving as he asks.

Bradley waits until his sons ice blue eyes, flick to his own and he answers simply “It looks ridiculous. Let’s get this over with so we can go eat.”

Logan nods his head, his hand cradling his boys, “Okay, Dad.”

Reaching behind him, Logan grabs the script reading over his lines with a heavy eye roll before turning back to his father muttering, “Can’t believe I am doing this.”

“What was that?” Bradley asks his teenage son.

"Never mind.”

Clearing his throat Logan tests out his lines. “This season, make sure that your nuts gobble gobble before they gobble no more.”

Bradley tries his best not to laugh, but a chuckle escapes and he tries to cover it unsuccessfully with a cough.

“Perfect son, just make sure to really gobble like a turkey. Ready?” Bradley asks, lifting his phone up to record.

“I guess,” Logan says, showing his teenage years with the indifference in his reply.

“Go for it,” Bradley encourages.

Logan puts on his camera smile, running his hand through his blonde hair before he clears his throat. “This season,” Logan grins his eyes looking straight down at his balls and back up at the camera. “Make sure that your nuts go gobble, gobble before they gobble no more.” Logan gives his nuts a little squeeze before he gets into position, hands behind his head staring right at his Dad and he gives a little nod.

This is the moment that Bradley has been waiting for. With careful aim, and direct precision, Bradley pulls his leg back and shoots it forward his instep sailing up and between his son’s thighs.

Logan still staring at his Dad, clenches his teeth in preparation and his abs tense as the air whooshes between his legs.

Bradley only has eyes for his kid, and not even needing to look at where his foot is going keeps his eyes locked on Logan’s, as he feels his foot connect.

Logan’s eyes bug out, as his balls crunch heavily against his taint, his Dad’s foot slamming his balls so hard that they pop out of the thin material holding them in place. Logan’s bottom lip trembles, and a slow painful suck in of breadth reaches Bradley’s ears as his son no longer can stand on two feet but sinks down to his knees starring dully forward at Bradley’s waist. “Did…did you…oh shit…fuck. Get it?” Logan asks, his voice squeaky, giving Bradley fond memories of when Logan was thirteen.

“Yes son, I got it all.”

Bradley walks forward and places one hand on his son’s bare shoulder gripping it tightly. “Happy Thanksgiving, Logan.”

Logan closes his eyes, his body shuddering as he groans miserably.

“Don’t take too long, your mother has made a fine turkey for us and I would hate for you not to be able to ‘gobble’ it up,” Bradley deadpans, making Logan stare up at him grimacing. Bradley can’t pinpoint if Logan is making that face amongst his pain for the bad joke, or his son’s nut pain but either way it satisfies him.

The door clicks shut behind him, and before he heads downstairs to greet his wife, he hears Logan’s head hit the floor groaning, “My nuts. Fuuuuuck.”

Bradley is ecstatic and thinks, ‘Yeah, your old man still got it.”