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コメント > “You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says.
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He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.

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

“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.

Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.

Daddy was furious as I could hear his deep breath. He sat down on the bench by the door. I was looking down afraid he was going to kick my ass. He lifted my head from my chin using the tip of his loafer where I can smell that smelly sheer socks he has been worn all day. Just when our eyes met, a big stinky manly wad landed on my face. Then I felt a big rough hand rubbing the spit all over my face. I heard the daddy say, “ next time remember what I told you exactly, I don’t want this to happen again, you hear me? I paused and said, “ yeeee…”. Before I finished the sentence, another spit and a big slap on me. “ when I told you something you must say yes. There is no room for you to argue or think, understood?” He said in a deep and firm tone. “ yes sir”. Without missing a beep I said it. “good boy, your night is just about to start.”

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

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

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

His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.

“That your jockstrap on the floor next to you, son?” His dad asks.

Garrett nods to his father.

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

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

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

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

“FUCK! FUCK!” He says, as he loosens the tightened grip on his fleshy-red-tool, while it throbs with its life-giving blood coursing through its many vein-filled region.

“Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.”

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“It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains.