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“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.

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His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations. “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

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“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. “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 nods to his father. “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.

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

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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.” “Do it!” His dad orders.

“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.

“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom. “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 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. His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face.

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