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“That you are, son. You are busting at the seams with your youth and muscles. Rippled from those vigorous physical workouts and stroking sessions. I bet.” His dad says. “You are gonna hafta to take care of that or you are gonna be miserable. You know that son, doncha. You know, I am right.”

Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol.

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

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

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

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

“What are ya now, by the way?”

His bare ass melts to the lid of the toilet bowl. He sweats from the steam and the exertions from his continued pounding of the fierceness of his cock. He wiggles as his ass opens, squeaking on the plastic surface of the thrown lid, as he takes whiffs from the cum soaked pouch of the jock that covers his face.

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

The sound of the shower echoes throughout the empty house. The bathroom door is open. He knows he has privacy. He is alone. No older brother. No father. Or mother. It is just him.

“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.

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“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.

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“Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.”

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

“Let me get in there, Garrett.” His father says, as his son steps aside so he can get into the shower enclosure.

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