おなまえ
Ｅメール
タイトル
コメント > “Damn it, son! Damn it! Damn it, you hit the mirror above the sink!” His father shouts as the bullets of cum shoot forth from his son’s cock and hits the adjacent mirror directly in front of the porcelain bathroom thrown. “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?”
ＵＲＬ
削除キー	(記事を削除時に使用。英数字で8文字以内)
投稿キー	（投稿時 を入力してください）

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

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

“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.” He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.

“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.” “Coach told us. To go beat off. Seeing all those tents in our shorts; he said we should have all been working out naked. Our shorts weren’t covering up, anything, as our cock’s periscoped out and over the elastic waistbands of our shorts.” He says to his dad as he steps from the shower.

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. He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.

“What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks. Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks. “That’s it! That’s it! That’s it!” His father bellows.

“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?”

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

His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

“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.” Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.

“What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants. “See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.

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

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.” “Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says.

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

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

Daddy smiled and said, “ that is my good boy. Don’t even want to leave your daddy’s Ripe socks on the floor. That’s the respect I love boy.” I then was told to clean his left foot. “Scrub these whitish paste out in my toenails. I want you to smell and place them in your mouth and let me see.” Daddy commented. It smelled and tasted like Brie cheese. Then I moved my tongue in between daddy’s toes. I cleaned up so well. Just thought I was finished. Daddy said,” the sole is clammy. It has nature feet oil after a whole day in the shoes, you think you finished fag. Keep working on that.” 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.

“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.” Exactly a week after, daddy texted me with a different tone saying, “ get your ass ready tonight cause daddy is coming to your place tonight.” He was usually really sweet and nice, I was shot when I got the message. But automatically I said, “ yes daddy!” I guess I am a slutty whore for him right at the beginning as I knew my place where is always going to be inferior.

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “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?”