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Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.

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“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure. “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway.

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“Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.” He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

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“Damn it, son! Damn it! Damn it, you hit the mirror above the sink!” His father shouts as the bullets of cum shoot forth from his son’s cock and hits the adjacent mirror directly in front of the porcelain bathroom thrown. He looks down. And then smiles at his dad.

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son.

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“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims. 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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He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father. “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.

“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.” “What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks.

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His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son. “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.”

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“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks. 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.

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