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コメント > Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat. He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.
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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. “I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.

All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed. “Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

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His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face. “Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!”

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“You have not fucked, have you, my son? Have you?” His father asks, as he readjusts the cock covered and swelling in his khaki pants. “I thought as much.” “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.

“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?” 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.

“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?” “I figured you did.” His father says. “You play on a team, so you know the purpose of teamwork.”

“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?” “What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s 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. “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”

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“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.” Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

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

“You have not fucked, have you, my son? Have you?” His father asks, as he readjusts the cock covered and swelling in his khaki pants. “I thought as much.” His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.