Having read through a half dozen of Kennedy's books, I am finding I like his harder edged stories better. There is almost nothing soft here--a harsh, immoral top, and a spoiled rich-kid bottom, and none of that sappy love-talk, but it hits Kennedy's favored kinks with admirable efficiency, and leads to an oddly satisfying conclusion.
Random thought: I have a strange urge to write a "Fan" version of this (minus anything to do with feet or dirty socks/underwear), where the father deliberately enlists the frat boy as "mentor" to his fuck-up son, rather than unwittingly setting matters up.
Bottom line: Kennedy is accessing some pretty potent fantasies that he delivers in their raw state. Morality has about as much relevance here as it usually does to the human id in all its filthy, uninhibited glory.