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コメント > 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. “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”
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His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead. “That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.

Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. “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.”

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway.

Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. 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.”

His father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds. All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.

“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. “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.

“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

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

“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. “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid. “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. Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

“Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis. “That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.

Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. “Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection.

“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” “I figured you did.” His father says. “You play on a team, so you know the purpose of teamwork.”

“What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face. 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.

“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.” “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.

“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?” “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

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. “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?”

He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement. 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.

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. “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”