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コメント > He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them.
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His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.

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

“Yes! Yes! I know you understand.” His father proudly exclaims.

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.”

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.

Garrett nods to his father.

Garrett picks up the pee-stained and cum-leaked jock from the tile floor.

“Coach told us. To go beat off. Seeing all those tents in our shorts; he said we should have all been working out naked. Our shorts weren’t covering up, anything, as our cock’s periscoped out and over the elastic waistbands of our shorts.” He says to his dad as he steps from the shower.

“See this; see this. “His father says. “This is where power comes from.”

ﾂ本ﾂ古ｪﾂつｪﾂ甘懃ｦ�
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He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.

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

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

“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!”

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

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

The pre-cum leaks, like a babbling brook, from the boy’s erect and pulsing cock, depositing its tiny droplets of juice onto the arm-hairs of his proud father. His father squeezes the nuts of his son, tighter and tighter, releasing more of the youthful essence.

“Dad! Dad!” His son says in a straining voice. “Release me?”

“I thought you usually showered after practice. In the locker room.” His dad asks as he walks into the open door of the bathroom.