Tom was no bigger then about 6 inches tall as his step-dad carried him down the steps to the living room. There he put Tom to a large empty jar that usually held candies of some sort but was empty at the moment. He watched as he step-father unbuttoned his flannel shirt and then pulled his t-shirt exposing his broad hairy chest.
I think I could use a nice massage there boy, he said and plucked Tom from the jar.
He laid on the floor and propped his head up with a pillow form the sofa. He also kicked off his big old work boots and wiggled his toes in the sweaty, once white athletic socks.
Once in position he deposited you on his chest and ordered you to begin messaging him. Afraid of the consequences if you didn’t do as ordered you bend to your hands and knees and begin rubbing your fathers chest. You are repulsed and scared at the same time. You could easily be crushed if he wanted to.
You work your way from his stomach up over this abs to his hairy pecs. He’s still a little sticky from sweating all day and your hands stick in the hair and on his skin. He laughs at your patheticness until you finish.
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