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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. “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.”

He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son. “I don’t wanna jack-off, dad.” He says flabbergasted to his dad as he turns off the tap to the hot and chilly water in the shower.

“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.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.” I didn’t move and I didn’t want to move because the smell in there is so toxic. I can smell daddy’s unwashed ass in there. I was also so happy as daddy sat on the toilet to released his scent just for me to sniff. Just when The scent faded away I heard the daddy say, “Come here, boy.” I saw daddy sitting on my couch with nothing but a white brief on. The bulge was staring at me. I knew I was going to be having a wonderful night.

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 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.

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“I knew ya couldn’t keep your hands off it.” His dad says. “Men can’t do it, we are drawn to our cocks, like a moth to a flame, and usually that burning sensation that a man feels is the cum boiling up in our balls. You know that feelin’ doncha son?” 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.

He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower. “Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says.

He looks down. And then smiles at his dad. 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.

“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.” “What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants.

“What are ya now, by the way?” 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.

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

“What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks. 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.

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

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. 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.

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