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. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son.
“That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.” “Back in the day, back before we turned into a modern society, a man would grab another man’s balls and swear an oath on them in his hand and state his words to be true. To be a friend” His father says. “Do you know what I mean, son?”
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“What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks. His dad takes a seat upon the closed commode lid.
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“Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.
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