The following stop of Dani's index finger was the armpits. He believed he had guessed it, but probably because, in reality, it was what he desired. He was eager to reach that part, perhaps the most representative of masculinity after the genitals, and since my facial expressiveness is usually like an open book, he realized it.

Shh... Still, you're not going to clean my armpit until I tell you to, okay? I want you to put your face there, where my finger is pointing, and sniff my male scent like a real bitch.

I slowly approached my target, his armpit, and when I was just a centimeter away, Dani grabbed my neck and pushed my face against his armpit, closing his arm. I couldn't move, I could only breathe in his male scent that penetrated my nose and brain like a dagger. Dani loosened his arm slightly and said:

Now, yes, leave it nice and clean, mammoth.

I licked it as if it were the last armpit in the universe, as if I were going to die tomorrow, intercalating intense inspirations to get drunk on his male scent.

With a push, Dani threw me off his body, making me roll over onto myself, falling onto the bed, beside him, on my back. He stood up on the mattress, leaning his back against the wall. I got on my knees without him needing to ask me to.

Where are you going, little whore? Are you desperate to eat cock, right? I nodded with a pleading expression. Open the first drawer of the nightstand, take out the white jockstrap, and give it to me. I did what he asked, the smell that came out of that compartment when I opened it was indescribable. You see this? For a week, I've been jerking off in this jockstrap... I'm going to let you smell it, but if I see you stick out your tongue and dare to lick it, the game will end here.

With one hand, he immobilized my head, and with the other, he placed the jockstrap against my face, like a mask, with the only possibility of breathing in his stale semen, accumulated over seven days. He rubbed it all over my face, and although I was dying to stick out my tongue and lick it, I restrained myself. I couldn't risk him leaving me like that, without having tasted his male cock.

When he considered it opportune, he placed his jockstraps on my head and, grabbing it with his two hands, brought it against his voluminous package. He rubbed my face against it, from side to side, as if I were an object. The smell of sweaty balls penetrated the jockstrap, and involuntary moans of an animal in heat escaped from my mouth.

That's it, moan like a bitch, whore, you've never tasted a male like me, I know... You're going to know what's good. From today on, you'll stop being a bad fuck.

He took his hand to his package and slowly pulled down his jockstrap. His erect cock sprang out of its cell, as if it had a spring. I almost went blind when I saw that cock, it met all my phallic fetishes: uncircumcised, abundant skin completely humid with pre-seminal f...