He checked his son's butthole for use.
"I can get my finger in there with no problems! Who's been fucking you? Was it that Clarkson boy? You dirty little bastard!"
"No Daddy, honestly! It wasn't Charlie Clarkson"
He couldn't tell his father it had been Coach Simpson, the soccer coach who had thoroughly fucked him when the other boys had left, keeping him back on a ruse. Not just Michael, and not for the first time either! His nylon soccer shorts were taken down and he was over the table with no nonsense from the big man.
Daddy wasn't putting up with any nonsense either. And since Michael was pre-lubed with cum Dad thought, "oh what the hell, might as well get e some pussy to."
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