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コメント > “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.” Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.
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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 thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

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“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. “I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.”

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

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

His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

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He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father. “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”

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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. 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.

“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.” Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.

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