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Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat. “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.

The now lukewarm water streams through the curls of his hair rinsing away the last vestiges of the soapy lather. It all goes down the drain in a swirl of bubbles. He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.

“That’s it! That’s it! That’s it!” His father bellows. He reaches and lets his hand glide over his swelled cock. Tickling the head of his bulbous cock with his rough fingertips which sends electric sparks through him and down to his toes.

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Daddy was furious as I could hear his deep breath. He sat down on the bench by the door. I was looking down afraid he was going to kick my ass. He lifted my head from my chin using the tip of his loafer where I can smell that smelly sheer socks he has been worn all day. Just when our eyes met, a big stinky manly wad landed on my face. Then I felt a big rough hand rubbing the spit all over my face. I heard the daddy say, “ next time remember what I told you exactly, I don’t want this to happen again, you hear me? I paused and said, “ yeeee…”. Before I finished the sentence, another spit and a big slap on me. “ when I told you something you must say yes. There is no room for you to argue or think, understood?” He said in a deep and firm tone. “ yes sir”. Without missing a beep I said it. “good boy, your night is just about to start.” 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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“I managed to lift nearly two hundred today. I believe.” He explains. “But I strained a lot to do it. I was moaning. Groaning.” Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

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“That you are, son. You are busting at the seams with your youth and muscles. Rippled from those vigorous physical workouts and stroking sessions. I bet.” His dad says. “You are gonna hafta to take care of that or you are gonna be miserable. You know that son, doncha. You know, I am right.” “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.

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“Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

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“What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face. His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face.

The one shower after his workout and practice had been a good start. But the walk home had tired him. But the massaging jets of water caressing across his muscular frame takes the weariness from his bones from this stressful day. “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.