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コメント > “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad. His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.
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“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.” “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.

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

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze. “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

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. “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them. “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” “That’s it! That’s it! That’s it!” His father bellows.

“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 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.

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

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

“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock. “Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock.

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 bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

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His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters.

“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. “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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“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.” “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.”

“Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad. His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.