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“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock. 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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He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel. “Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters.

“What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks. “Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil.

“That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway. Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

“Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.” His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel.

He does not say anything in response to his father as his cock continues pulsing and jumping as the blood engorges his youthful cock more. And more. The sound of the shower echoes throughout the empty house. The bathroom door is open. He knows he has privacy. He is alone. No older brother. No father. Or mother. It is just him.

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“That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway. Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

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.” “I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words.

Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

“Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice. “Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.”

“That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway. “I ain’t a-talking ‘bout how big ya cock is, boy. I am talking ‘bout ya, weight. Your height.” His dad says. “I kinda figured on how big you are down there. That’s obvious. It makes me proud of you. My son. Of what I created, along with ya mother.”

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 reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

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

“I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.” He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.

“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?” He does not say anything in response to his father as his cock continues pulsing and jumping as the blood engorges his youthful cock more. And more.

“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure. 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.

His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations. “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.