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“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. 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.

“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.” “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

“Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?” His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid.

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“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. 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.

“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.” “Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.”

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. “It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.

“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.” 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.

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. “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.

All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed. 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.

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

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. 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.”

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

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. He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.

“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?” “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.

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

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

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. “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”

“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words. “It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.