Reece and his best mate Josh sat on the sofa playing an intense game of FIFA. Both sat with their Nike trainers up on the table in front of them. “Good game, mate,” said Race. It was Friday night and the last one for a while that they’d be able to spend together. Josh had always been better at school than Reece and had managed to get himself into university. “Quick joint and then another game,” said Josh. “G’wan then, mate,” grinned Reece. Just as Josh opened his weed box, his dad Dave walked in. “Alright, lads,” he said. Josh was lucky to have such a sound dad. Reece had always looked up to him since his own dad left when he was four. Dave put a bag on the table. “Right, a bottle of vodka and some snacks, guys. I’m out until late tonight but have a good one… I know it might be a while until you can do this again,” he added. “Cheers, Dad,” “Yeah, cheers, Dave,” answered the boys. The middle-aged dad headed to the kitchen, unloading the rest of his shopping. “Ohh, Reece… Josh was saying you might need somewhere to stay now, since your mum needs the space,” he shouted over the rustling and clanking of his unpacking. “Er, yeah… not sure what to do to be honest,” replied Shane. Josh’s dad appeared at the doorway. “Well, I think maybe you could stay here for a bit? I’ll be on my own now. Josh is heading off and could do with the company! Let’s have a chat tomorrow?” He smiled. “Yeah, ace… sound, thanks, Dave,” the lad stumbled in, stunned in response. “Good stuff, right? See you both later, have a good one,” the father replied, heading out to his car. The wheels crunched off the drive and with that he was gone, leaving the two teens to their night of drinking and youthful mischief.
What followed was a night of standard juvenile fun. A few mates joined, and the lads enjoyed a night of drinking, smoking, and playing games. As the others left around 3 a.m., Josh and Reece had a drunken heart-to-heart, reminiscing of the good times and drunkenly promising one another that they would stay best mates despite the distance which was soon to come between them. Josh headed up to his bed, and Reece settled in for a night on the sofa just as he had so many times before. Within seconds, he fell into a deep, intoxicated sleep, still fully clothed and with the baseline music still playing quietly through the TV.
It had gone 4:30 when Dave entered the house, silent but for the music and deep snoring of Reece splayed on the couch. He moved quietly into the room, a few beer cans and a strewn pack of cards remaining from some drinking game but otherwise not much mess. The guys had always been pretty respectful of his place, given the freedom he gave them to party there. Dave’s gaze was drawn to Reece as he clicked off the TV. “Reece, are you asleep?” he gently asked, testing the teen’s level of slumber. “Dead to the world,” he added, to himself, before carefully tip-toeing to the end of the sofa.
“Can’t be comfortable like this,” Dave whispered, knowing he was justifying his next actions to himself and no one else. With slow, steady movements, he knelt by his son’s friend’s trainers: a pair of pristine black Nike TNs. His finger slipped between the heel and the teen’s white sock and delicately slid it free. Not a slight stir from the sleeping beauty, giving him the confidence to pry the second free. Dave paused momentarily, admiring Reece’s magnificent white socks: he wasn’t a perv, just getting him comfortable, he again reassured himself. He pressed his nose delicately against the warm, socked sole of one foot and inhaled. His nose was filled with the powerful, moist scent of the chav foot, encased as it had been until seconds ago. Reece suddenly turned in his sleep, and Dave’s heart leapt into his mouth, beating at 100 mph… but the boy did not wake. The father steadied his mind, “Be fucking careful,” he scolded himself. Gently, he worked both pristine socks free, exposing Reece’s perfect white soles and long toes. He looked longingly upon their perfect form, how much he had fantasised about these feet. It took all his willpower not to dive upon them there and then in the faint light, but he managed. He gently pulled a blanket over the teen and gently padded out of the room, closing the door behind him.
In his bed, Dave’s mind was racing with what he had just dared to do. He pulled his semi-hard dick from his boxers and reached into the pillow beside him, where he had placed his prize. Two sweaty white Nike socks. He put one to his nose, taking in the chav scent as his other hand pulled his hardening shaft. The second sock he then pulled over his cock; he wouldn’t take long at all to fill it with his warm load.
…
Morning light streamed into Dave’s room and he awoke groggily. Turning over, his hand met the sticky evidence of his late-night crime. “Shit,” he thought, stuffing the socks under the pillow before rising from the bed. As he plodded downstairs, he could hear the two lads trying to piece together their hazy memories of the night. As Dave entered the room, both turned to look at him. “Morning lads, good night?” he asked, slightly nervous. “Oh yeah, banging night, thanks, Dave,” replied a barefoot Reece. “Must have been a mad one though, no idea where I’ve put my socks ahah,” he continued. “Socks? Weird, ahah,” chuckled a relieved Dave, “worse things to lose, I suppose?” “Anyway, do you need a lift home, Reece? We can chat about you moving in on the way?” smiled the older man, plans forming in his perverse mind as he spoke.
