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コメント > He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. “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.
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His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead. 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…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face. Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.

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

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

“Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says. “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.

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. “What are you now, son?”

Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. “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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He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son. “Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters.

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

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Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock. “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.

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.

“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.” “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.”

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В моей практике исследовались возгорания в легких и грузовых автомобилей, на объектах жилой и коммерческой недвижимости, в зданиях производственного и складского назначения, энергетических установках и иных промышленных объектах.

“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 can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body.

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Garrett nods to his father. 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 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.” “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.”

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