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コメント > 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. “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”
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“What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad. “Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.

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“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.”

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock. All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.

Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.” “But you didn’t though, did you, son?”

“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. His father’s words are what he hears when he erupts. His cum streaming like liquid threads from the pee-hole of his rigid cock.

“I bet you got some stares from the other boys in the locker room.” His dad adds. “You couldn’t miss it.” His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.

“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. 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.

That night, I did a whole spa routine to make sure my skin was soft and my ass was stretched and wet. I was wearing nothing but a jockstrap as I was told. Waiting by the door on fourth. My heartbeat was so fast as my mouth was dry. I heard the footstep approaching. I left the door unlocked as one of the instructions I was received from daddy. He stepped in with his size 10 Christian Loublitine loafer where my eyes were going up from there. When I made eye contact with daddy, daddy slapped me across the face and said, “Bad boy, Where the fuck are your sneakers as I told you to wear tonight.” I was trembling and said in a very low voice, “ sorry daddy I fooooorgot.” I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were.

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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. 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.

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