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

“Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says. “What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” “What are ya now, by the way?”

“My hard-on. Somewhat. But I have them all the time. You know that. You’ve made enough comments about me sportin’ boners in the morning when you see them at breakfast.” “What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face.

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

“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. “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”

“I ain’t a-talking ‘bout how big ya cock is, boy. I am talking ‘bout ya, weight. Your height.” His dad says. “I kinda figured on how big you are down there. That’s obvious. It makes me proud of you. My son. Of what I created, along with ya mother.” 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.

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

“What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants. “You guys jerk off together, these days?” His dad asks, “Back when I was in high school me and several of my friends would jerk-off in our trucks in the parking lot. We were so horny we could barely sit in our seats. You ever do that Garrett?”

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

The pre-cum leaks, like a babbling brook, from the boy’s erect and pulsing cock, depositing its tiny droplets of juice onto the arm-hairs of his proud father. His father squeezes the nuts of his son, tighter and tighter, releasing more of the youthful essence. “I’m am nearly 6 foot 2 inches tall, dad. I weigh 210 lbs. I think, dad. At least I was the last time we were weighed at football practice.” The son says. “Much bigger than you, I should say.”

“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. 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.

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. 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.

“You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son. “What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants.

He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement. He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.

“Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.” “Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection.

“I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.” “I ain’t a-talking ‘bout how big ya cock is, boy. I am talking ‘bout ya, weight. Your height.” His dad says. “I kinda figured on how big you are down there. That’s obvious. It makes me proud of you. My son. Of what I created, along with ya mother.”