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コメント > “Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure. “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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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.” 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.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.” 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.

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “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 was surprised He wasn’t angry. He said,” boy you wait here, I am going to the bathroom.” He closed the door. He must sit on the toilet with pants down because I heard him losing the belt but didn’t hear him peeing. After a while, he called my name,” get in here ass sniffing slut.” I opened the door and crawled to the side of daddy. Daddy was still sitting on the toilet. . Just when I was confused why he sat that and did nothing. He stood up and pulled his pants up. I did take a peep of daddy’s huge uncut Middle Eastern dick. Half hard like 7inches already. While he was doing that, he grabbed my hair pushed right into the toilet, and closed the lid. “ smell my ass from there boy when it is still fresh.” He paused and continued, “ Don’t move.” Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.

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. “What are you now, son?”

“That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway. 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.

“What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad. “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.

“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. He dries himself but his throbbing cock continues to pulse as it grows harder because of his youth. The sensation intensifies. The feeling is wonderful. He can hear his cock throbbing in his ears.

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. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose. “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. “Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!”

“FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region. “I figured you did.” His father says. “You play on a team, so you know the purpose of teamwork.”

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. His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.

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

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. 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.

He does not hear the slamming of the front door. Neither does he hear the footsteps on the wood floor in the hallway. The shower drowns away all this noise. 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.

“FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region. “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.”

“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. “Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly.

His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son. “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.