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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.” Garrett nods to his father.

He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement. He looks down. And then smiles at his dad.

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

“Yeah. Yessir. Dad.” Garrett mutters. His father strokes his own cock in the shower, the dew from his cock mixes with the drops condensing on the glass.

“I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words. He does not hear the slamming of the front door. Neither does he hear the footsteps on the wood floor in the hallway. The shower drowns away all this noise.

“And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.” “Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly.

His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son. “Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.”

He does not hear the slamming of the front door. Neither does he hear the footsteps on the wood floor in the hallway. The shower drowns away all this noise. “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.”

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

“Last I measured, I was nearly eight inches, dad. Maybe more. I may be even bigger, who knows.” He answers nonchalantly. “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.

“Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. “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.”

His father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds. “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway.

“I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” 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.”

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

Garrett nods to his father. After I serve daddy’s left one, I was about to move to the right foot. While He stopped me, stood up, and walked towards the couch, he said “Crawling right after me.” I followed daddy. My nose was where daddy’s ass was. I was staring at that crotch while I was crawling, and I didn’t realize daddy stopped one of a sudden in front of the bathroom. My nose is slightly right into that dreaming ass crack.

Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose. “And you did it with that. Your boner?” His dad asks. “I guess.”

He gulps once as his dad mounts more pressure on his balls. Squeezing them. “I ain’t a-talking ‘bout how big ya cock is, boy. I am talking ‘bout ya, weight. Your height.” His dad says. “I kinda figured on how big you are down there. That’s obvious. It makes me proud of you. My son. Of what I created, along with ya mother.”

“Damn it, son! Damn it! Damn it, you hit the mirror above the sink!” His father shouts as the bullets of cum shoot forth from his son’s cock and hits the adjacent mirror directly in front of the porcelain bathroom thrown. “Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.”

His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son. “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.

His father’s words are what he hears when he erupts. His cum streaming like liquid threads from the pee-hole of his rigid 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.