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“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. “Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure.

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. 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.

Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock. “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?”

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. “What are ya now, by the way?”

Сертифицированный судебный эксперт по вопросам пожарно-технической экспертизы и член республиканской Палаты судебных экспертов РК.

В моей практике исследовались возгорания в легких и грузовых автомобилей, на объектах жилой и коммерческой недвижимости, в зданиях производственного и складского назначения, энергетических установках и иных промышленных объектах.

“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” “That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son. 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 father’s words are what he hears when he erupts. His cum streaming like liquid threads from the pee-hole of his rigid cock. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

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

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.

All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed. “Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!”

His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid. 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.

“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. 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 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.” Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

Garrett nods to his father. “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.”

Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap. Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.

“What are ya now, by the way?” “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

“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. “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.