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コメント > He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son. 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.
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He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father. Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

“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. 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.

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. 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.

“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. “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.”

“I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.” “I figured you did.” His father says. “You play on a team, so you know the purpose of teamwork.”

“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

“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.” 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.

He reaches and lets his hand glide over his swelled cock. Tickling the head of his bulbous cock with his rough fingertips which sends electric sparks through him and down to his toes. “I figured you did.” His father says. “You play on a team, so you know the purpose of teamwork.”

“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.” “Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.

His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid. He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor. “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.”

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. “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”

“Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad. “Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body.

“What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants. The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.

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

“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 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.

Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.” “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.

His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations. “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.”

“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words. 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.

“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.” “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?”