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コメント > “I managed to lift nearly two hundred today. I believe.” He explains. “But I strained a lot to do it. I was moaning. Groaning.” “Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock.
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“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.

After I serve daddy’s left one, I was about to move to the right foot. While He stopped me, stood up, and walked towards the couch, he said “Crawling right after me.” I followed daddy. My nose was where daddy’s ass was. I was staring at that crotch while I was crawling, and I didn’t realize daddy stopped one of a sudden in front of the bathroom. My nose is slightly right into that dreaming ass crack. “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.

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

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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. Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.

The sound of the shower echoes throughout the empty house. The bathroom door is open. He knows he has privacy. He is alone. No older brother. No father. Or mother. It is just him. “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.”

“What are ya now, by the way?” 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.

“Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.” “See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.” Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “What are you now, son?”

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Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat. “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway.

“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom. “I don’t wanna jack-off, dad.” He says flabbergasted to his dad as he turns off the tap to the hot and chilly water in the shower.

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. His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.

“But you didn’t though, did you, son?” “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words. “What are ya now, by the way?”