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“What are you now, son?” “You are grown. Yes. Physically. Yes, my son. But a full man. No! No!” His father, says, sharply. “You have much more to grow, to mature, before you are a man, before you can call yourself. A man.”

His father’s words are what he hears when he erupts. His cum streaming like liquid threads from the pee-hole of his rigid cock. Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” “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?”

“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. “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.

“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” “That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.”

His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid. “Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says.

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. “Do it!” His dad orders.

“What are you now, son?” “Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.”

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. “Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body.

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He dries himself but his throbbing cock continues to pulse as it grows harder because of his youth. The sensation intensifies. The feeling is wonderful. He can hear his cock throbbing in his ears. 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.

“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly. “This is what a man looks like, son.” His father says as his pants fall to the floor. From his waist out pops his representation of a 40-year-old-man. And father of two teenage boys. His cock.

“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap. “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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He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. 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.

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“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.” “What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants.

“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims. 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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