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コメント > “Damn it, son! Damn it! Damn it, you hit the mirror above the sink!” His father shouts as the bullets of cum shoot forth from his son’s cock and hits the adjacent mirror directly in front of the porcelain bathroom thrown.
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“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.

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

“What are ya now, by the way?”

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it.” He answers. “I want to show the world that I am a man, like you. Father.”

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

“Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection.

His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

“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.”

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

“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 strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

“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.”

“What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks.

“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.”

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.

“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.”

“What are you now, 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.

“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body.

Garrett nods to his father.