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コメント > “Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock.
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“You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says.

“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.”

“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.”

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

“Then show me, father. Show me what it means, TO BE A MAN?” He says with an excitement building in his voice.

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

“I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.”

“What are you now, son?”

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.

“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.”

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

He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

Exactly a week after, daddy texted me with a different tone saying, “ get your ass ready tonight cause daddy is coming to your place tonight.” He was usually really sweet and nice, I was shot when I got the message. But automatically I said, “ yes daddy!” I guess I am a slutty whore for him right at the beginning as I knew my place where is always going to be inferior.

Garrett resumes the fondling of his cock while he takes long drawn-out whiffs from his sweat, piss and cum stained jockstrap.

“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.”

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 managed to lift nearly two hundred today. I believe.” He explains. “But I strained a lot to do it. I was moaning. Groaning.”

“Do it!” His dad orders.

“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words.

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