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コメント > His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass. “What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants.
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“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son. “What are ya now, by the way?”

“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words. His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel. “See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat. “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” “Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?”

Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. “I figured you did.” His father says. “You play on a team, so you know the purpose of teamwork.”

“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. “That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.

“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom. 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 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.” “Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says.

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. “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.

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 nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.

“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. “What are ya now, by the way?”

“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 are you now, son?”

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

Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat. “That’s it! That’s it! That’s it!” His father bellows.

“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

“What are ya now, by the way?” 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.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.” That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.”

Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap. “Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock.