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コメント > “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.
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He reaches and lets his hand glide over his swelled cock. Tickling the head of his bulbous cock with his rough fingertips which sends electric sparks through him and down to his toes.

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.”

“Nope.” He says. Flatly. As he runs his hand over his still steely-hard length of his curved cock.

“Pick it up and smell the crotch.” His dad says.

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters.

“I don’t wanna jack-off, dad.” He says flabbergasted to his dad as he turns off the tap to the hot and chilly water in the shower.

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

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

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.

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.

He looks down. And then smiles at his dad.

“Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

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

“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.

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.

“What are ya now, by the way?”

“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 did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” 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 thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.