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コメント > “Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims. Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.
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“I’m am nearly 6 foot 2 inches tall, dad. I weigh 210 lbs. I think, dad. At least I was the last time we were weighed at football practice.” The son says. “Much bigger than you, I should say.” That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.”

He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. His dad’s cock does not curve like that of his son, it angles like a fishing rod looking for fish under rushing river waters, from the deep furry patch between the father’s legs.

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That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.” Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

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. “Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock.

His dad’s cock does not curve like that of his son, it angles like a fishing rod looking for fish under rushing river waters, from the deep furry patch between the father’s legs. “You guys jerk off together, these days?” His dad asks, “Back when I was in high school me and several of my friends would jerk-off in our trucks in the parking lot. We were so horny we could barely sit in our seats. You ever do that Garrett?”

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Daddy smiled and said, “ that is my good boy. Don’t even want to leave your daddy’s Ripe socks on the floor. That’s the respect I love boy.” I then was told to clean his left foot. “Scrub these whitish paste out in my toenails. I want you to smell and place them in your mouth and let me see.” Daddy commented. It smelled and tasted like Brie cheese. Then I moved my tongue in between daddy’s toes. I cleaned up so well. Just thought I was finished. Daddy said,” the sole is clammy. It has nature feet oil after a whole day in the shoes, you think you finished fag. Keep working on that.” “FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region.

His dad’s cock does not curve like that of his son, it angles like a fishing rod looking for fish under rushing river waters, from the deep furry patch between the father’s legs. “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.

“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.

The pre-cum leaks, like a babbling brook, from the boy’s erect and pulsing cock, depositing its tiny droplets of juice onto the arm-hairs of his proud father. His father squeezes the nuts of his son, tighter and tighter, releasing more of the youthful essence. “I knew ya couldn’t keep your hands off it.” His dad says. “Men can’t do it, we are drawn to our cocks, like a moth to a flame, and usually that burning sensation that a man feels is the cum boiling up in our balls. You know that feelin’ doncha son?”

“Back in the day, back before we turned into a modern society, a man would grab another man’s balls and swear an oath on them in his hand and state his words to be true. To be a friend” His father says. “Do you know what I mean, son?” He looks down. And then smiles at his dad.

“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock. Garrett nods to his father.

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son.

“What are ya now, by the way?” 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.

“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks. Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body.

“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. 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.

“I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.” “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.”

He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement. I didn’t move and I didn’t want to move because the smell in there is so toxic. I can smell daddy’s unwashed ass in there. I was also so happy as daddy sat on the toilet to released his scent just for me to sniff. Just when The scent faded away I heard the daddy say, “Come here, boy.” I saw daddy sitting on my couch with nothing but a white brief on. The bulge was staring at me. I knew I was going to be having a wonderful night.

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