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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. “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

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“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?” “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” “Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure.

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.

“Once you plant that cock of yours in some squirmy hole and empty those warm balls of yours into a moist wet hole. Then you are on your way to becoming a man, and only then will you, come-of-age. But it is only a step onto the winding pathway towards manhood. It is my job to teach you what it means to be a man.” His father stands as he finishes his sentence. Loosening his belt and pulling his shirt out from the tucked confines of his pants. 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.

“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly. “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

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. 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.

His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead. “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.”