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“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock. He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

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

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

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

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

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

The now lukewarm water streams through the curls of his hair rinsing away the last vestiges of the soapy lather. It all goes down the drain in a swirl of bubbles. 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.

“Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad. The now lukewarm water streams through the curls of his hair rinsing away the last vestiges of the soapy lather. It all goes down the drain in a swirl of bubbles.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.” “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”

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

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

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“Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says. Garrett nods to his father.

“Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?” He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.

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

“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. He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.