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コメント > He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father. “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.
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“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.”

“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly. “Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure.

“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. His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

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“Coach told us. To go beat off. Seeing all those tents in our shorts; he said we should have all been working out naked. Our shorts weren’t covering up, anything, as our cock’s periscoped out and over the elastic waistbands of our shorts.” He says to his dad as he steps from the shower. 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.

“What are ya now, by the way?” He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.