Fin returned the toast, not being able to, but wishing he cold - take his eyes off Cyril’s wobbly little cock and balls.“Get dressed old chap, it�...�s not the place.” Cyril agreed and went very slowly, puffing and panting up the narrow, steep, early seventeenth century cottage stairs. Fin glanced around in distaste. There was no way he and Monica ... no not Monica any more, could live in such an old thatched place, so tiny, crooked, mice and bats in the roof, compared to the five bed, detached new. This time he had actually seen the briefs being worn by Matt not half an hour ago and this added to the excitement he felt.The feel of the soft fabric covering his cock, balls and arse was wonderful, and he noticed the pronounced pouch made in the briefs by Matt’s generous package. He walked over to the mirror to admire the effect and, though not a vain man, he saw, as anyone else would have, how his fine physique was well enhanced by a good pair of briefs. His right hand, inevitably, moved to. More

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