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コメント > All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.
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“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.

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

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

“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.”

“This is what a man looks like, son.” His father says as his pants fall to the floor. From his waist out pops his representation of a 40-year-old-man. And father of two teenage boys. His cock.

His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face.

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

“Maybe his dad is right.” He thinks to himself as he continues with his intense fondling of his fiery red cock.

The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.

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.”

“You are grown. Yes. Physically. Yes, my son. But a full man. No! No!” His father, says, sharply. “You have much more to grow, to mature, before you are a man, before you can call yourself. A man.”

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

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

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.

“Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!”

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

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

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