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He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them. The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.

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“What are you now, son?” Exactly a week after, daddy texted me with a different tone saying, “ get your ass ready tonight cause daddy is coming to your place tonight.” He was usually really sweet and nice, I was shot when I got the message. But automatically I said, “ yes daddy!” I guess I am a slutty whore for him right at the beginning as I knew my place where is always going to be inferior.

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“What are you now, son?” He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

“What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants. His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face.

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“But you didn’t though, did you, son?” “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

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“Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis. All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.

“My hard-on. Somewhat. But I have them all the time. You know that. You’ve made enough comments about me sportin’ boners in the morning when you see them at breakfast.” “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure. He does not hear the slamming of the front door. Neither does he hear the footsteps on the wood floor in the hallway. The shower drowns away all this noise.

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