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Boxers and socks no barrier for this leaky Lad. He writhes in his bed, feeling the warmth spread, his boxers turning dark at the crotch. His socks, once pristine, now squish with each movement. He's helpless, his body betraying him, but there's a thrill in the loss of control. He sits up, feeling the wetness, smelling the scent, his cock stirring at the humiliation and arousal. He decides to embrace it, stripping off his sodden clothes, stepping into the cold air, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him.