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コメント > “Back in the day, back before we turned into a modern society, a man would grab another man’s balls and swear an oath on them in his hand and state his words to be true. To be a friend” His father says. “Do you know what I mean, son?”
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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.

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

He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

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He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.

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

“You guys jerk off together, these days?” His dad asks, “Back when I was in high school me and several of my friends would jerk-off in our trucks in the parking lot. We were so horny we could barely sit in our seats. You ever do that Garrett?”

Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body.

“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.”

“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.

“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.”

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“My hard-on. Somewhat. But I have them all the time. You know that. You’ve made enough comments about me sportin’ boners in the morning when you see them at breakfast.”

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

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

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

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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.