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コメント > He looks down. And then smiles at his dad. “Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock.
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“Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.” “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” “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.

Daddy was furious as I could hear his deep breath. He sat down on the bench by the door. I was looking down afraid he was going to kick my ass. He lifted my head from my chin using the tip of his loafer where I can smell that smelly sheer socks he has been worn all day. Just when our eyes met, a big stinky manly wad landed on my face. Then I felt a big rough hand rubbing the spit all over my face. I heard the daddy say, “ next time remember what I told you exactly, I don’t want this to happen again, you hear me? I paused and said, “ yeeee…”. Before I finished the sentence, another spit and a big slap on me. “ when I told you something you must say yes. There is no room for you to argue or think, understood?” He said in a deep and firm tone. “ yes sir”. Without missing a beep I said it. “good boy, your night is just about to start.” “Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body.

He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. 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.

“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock. 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.

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He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel. “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”

“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.

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

He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. 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.

“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 does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.

He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement. I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were.

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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. “Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?”

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“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.” “Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters.

He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel. “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.

“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. “Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.