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“Or should I be your dad, and you simply be your good-looking self?”, I asked. Initially somewhat confused, as if not at first understanding that he would imagine himself doing stuff with his dad, he then comprehended and became shy, more so than before that is. While looking down at the floor, he quietly said: “Nah, can... can we just dress like them?”. In my head, it had been a fun question, and a tantalizing mental image, but it had backfired. I had ever so slowly been getting the boytoy out of his shell when he was around me, and it was unfortunate if I had nudged him a bit backwards to teen his old, closed-off self. I had no suspicion about there being any previous (sexual) trauma of the youngster, or that his father had been having incestual relations with him. No, he had most probably simply been a lonely, curious kid with a dominating father who had been berating instead of being supportive. I attempted, and moderately succeeded, to rescue blondes the situation by starting the challenge of both getting to pick out the best outfit for the other from what was in display in the wardrobe. They hadn’t brought all that much to the cottage, but at least we had a little to choose from – and me more so than Jonas; Sandra had amateur (understandably) a more extensive and varied selection of apparel with her. Them being bigger than us, respectively, I knew I would fit in Eric’s clothes, and Sandra’s would be too big for Jonas. Content with our choices, I went into the other room and changed, thus adding to the roleplay. Asking if he was ready, I thereafter returned. Upon seeing him, at the foot of the bed, I stopped. Giving my naughty looking little cocksucker the attention he deserved – thinking that, I did not mean it in a derogatory way, though I realize many might interpret it like that. The preteen-looking boy in a girly dress looked absolutely singular. Completely marvelous. It was a white dress with lace. The shoulder straps were thin, and across his flat, bony chest it didn’t fit well. Across the body, it would have been snug on my slim sister, but it sat loosely on the boy. The skirt, with an assortment of blue flowers stitched on it, ended slightly closer to the knees than the bum - I figured it would be the other way around on my sis. Not that I could currently see it, but underneath that dress, if he had put them on (and I suspected he had), he would be wearing white thong panties. Nearing him, in his father’s yellow soccer shirt that he had picked out for me, and blue sweat shorts, thereby resembling a soccer player on the Swedish national team (in apparel more so than lean physique), I was not wearing underwear. Either he had forgotten to pick out a pair for me, or he had assumed that I would put on a pair of my own, or he wanted me naked underneath. Though the latter was to be preferred, I’m not particularly sure it’s the most believable. When getting dressed in the other room, I had been wondering why, if his father had this uniform, with the official jersey of the nation’s team, he had not been wearing it when going away to watch the match? However, upon discarding the bath robe for the garment, I thought I understood the reason for it being left behind. Since it fit me better than I had expected, it seemed quite plausible that it would be unflattering on Eric; putting his gut unnecessarily on display. I closed the distance and lifted him with ease, holding him by (and fondling) his behind, while his legs spread around me. Savoring the moment a bit, I slowly hoisted him up and down so that his pecker rubbed against my hard-on. Then, I carried him onto the bed, carefully setting him down on his back, skinny legs spread apart before me as I stood between them on my knees. Though far from knowledgeable, I knew that a lack of adequate lighting could be an issue when shooting videos. Therefore, in order for there to be some presence of light to aid my smartphone in recording what was to unfold, I had first of all risked leaving the blinds of window open. This resulted in some natural light coming in from the outside; considering how it was the day after midsummer – which marks the time of the year when the sun is indian up for the longest duration – it wasn’t really dark-dark, so to speak, even closing in on 11 pm. Had the window been facing the street, I wouldn’t have dared hazard it, but since it faced the backyard I took the chance. Secondly, the door was open to the living room/kitchen, and even though this area wasn’t well lit, it allowed a warm and pleasantly mellow light to enter the master bedroom from that direction. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, a reading lamp on one of the bedside tables was still on, and I had no plans to switch it off. Like a doting father I adjusted the dress on my little princess, and thereafter continued doing with daddies don’t usually do – but as some lucky (or merely bold) ones certainly had; I started inappropriately touching the beloved child. I took it slow though. I allowed the dress to stay on while feeling over it, from exposed neck and `cleavage´, over the abdomen with the laces on the outside. Avoiding the genitalia, I went to the slim, unmuscular thighs and down to non-existing calf muscles. On the way up, where I took my sweat time, I let my hands glide under the loose skirt all the way up to the white thong which I could now see. It didn’t sit all that snugly against him, but well enough. It seemed the only muscles that still worked for me were in my pussy, which clamped on tight to my dad’s dick with strong spasms. You amateur made me teen comfortable. It was my first kiss, it was a sin, it was perverse, and it was wonderful. Mark caught the nearly naked teen easily, and tackled him hard, knocking the wind out of him, as the hamper went flying. “Not me indian they haven’t.” I said. "Do you still want to do this?" As the guys were talking Claire and I started to chit-chat about work, our kids and just mundane everyday stuff. I grabbed blondes her hair and pulled her back up, “no” staring into her tearing eyes sternly. When she got there she said that she hadn’t wanted intrude on our privacy. “Keep her belly well-oiled and keep up the massage.