Christ, if his father ever got his cock into Janet, his father would probably have a heart attack. Nymphos fucked so wildly that they nearly killed guys, nearly vacuumed the balls right up through guys' pricks – at least that's what he'd heard. He wished he could find out some of this stuff for sure, first-hand. But what was a teenaged shrimp supposed to do? He was so skinny that girls made fun of him. And even though his dick measured a respectable seven inches, and he could shoot his jizz five feet when he was really horny – which was most of the time – he still hadn't ever gotten his pecker into a pussy.

Willy stuffed the two remaining sausages into his mouth and started in on the dripping pancakes, clumsily forking in the food with his left hand, since his right hand was busy sliding the silky dick skin up and down his throbbing cockshaft. He never could beat-off left-handed. Cum bubbled from his gaping piss slit and rolled down over his knuckles. He chomped loudly at his food, pretending he was eating pussy now, and trying simultaneously to drown out the sound of his heavy breathing.

"That's what we like to hear, son – a guy enjoying his breakfast. Puts hair on your chest. Isn't that right, mother?"

"Absolutely," Mrs. Manners said. "And girls just love hair on a guy's chest. My! Listen to that hungry son of mine eat."

Willy got half to his feet, his dick above the edge of the table now, his hand pumping furiously. He was tempted to explode right against the twin newspapers, to blow the news out of his parents' hands with the force of his spurting cum alone, to fire his jism straight into their horrified faces, to say, look, you old fans, your guy has more balls than you think. Instead, he shot off against his plate, nearly blowing the pancake cunt off the table. He clenched his teeth and wrapped his toes around the metal legs of his chair, trying desperately to stifle his peed to squeal out his pleasure. As he spurted, he shook all over.