This is a possible multi chapter standalone story, but left open-ended for potential expansion. If you are interested in seeing this story continued, be sure and let me know. Positive and/or constructive comments are always appreciated at: [email protected]
Summer in Splints
A Father's Cartaking Duty to Son
Ethan Sullivan stepped out of his room already dressed to ride.
The white and navy blue cycling jersey clung to his lean, athletic 23-year-old frame, accentuating his strong shoulders, narrow waist, and the firm thighs built from years in the saddle. His tight black shorts outlined a natural, healthy bulge at his crotch. Dark brown hair, a little longer on top, fell loosely as he walked around the kitchen.
Ethan had come out as gay during his freshman year of college. Both his dad and mom were not shocked and fully accepted him. It was simply part of who Ethan always was, and the family had never made it an issue.
"Morning, Dad," Ethan said with a chipper tone.
Mark Sullivan looked up from the kitchen counter and smiled. "Good morning, Ethan."
Mark was already in his own white and yellow cycling gear, filling water bottles at the refrigerator. At 50, he stood just over six feet and was still solidly built--decades of consistent riding had given him broad shoulders, thick legs, and a solid ass. In addition, Mark sported a noticeably larger, heavier bulge in his tight black shorts that drew occasional glances even among seasoned cyclists.
He had light brown hair with gray at the sides, salt-and-pepper stubble framing a calm, confident face. Mark wasn't shy about his body, but not a nudist or exhibitionist, simply secure as a result of the time he grew up in.
Ethan couldn't help but notice it again this morning. It wasn't gross or weird, just large enough to catch the eye in those tight shorts. He'd always had that honest, passing curiosity about how he compared to his dad. After all, he hadn't seen his dad naked since early high school and that moment was amazingly quick.
"Alright big time college grad, you ready?" Mark asked.
"You know it!"
Mark handed a water bottle to Ethan. The house was quiet. Three days ago Ethan had graduated with his engineering degree. He'd pushed his new job start date to early September, giving himself one last real summer.
Deep down, Ethan knew he belonged here with his dad this summer. His mom and stepdad lived out of state anyway, and after the painful way her marriage to his dad had ended ten years ago, this just felt... right.
They rolled out just after sunrise. The Colorado air was cool and the streets quiet.
"I missed this," Ethan said after a few minutes.
Mark glanced over. "I'm glad you're back. It's not the same riding without you."
Boulder Canyon narrowed as they rode in, the road tracing the creek between towering rock walls and dense trees. The air cooled noticeably in the shade, accompanied by the steady rush of water beside them. It climbed just enough to settle into a comfortable rhythm, familiar, easy, a route they knew without thinking. Sunlight broke through the canopy in bright patches across the pavement as the shaded stretch opened up around them.
Then... Ethan's front tire dropped into a pothole hidden by debris from last night's rain. His momentum pitched him forward. Before he could even act, he was over the handlebars.
The impact slammed the air from his lungs. His helmet cracked hard against the pavement, and sharp pain exploded through both wrists.
"Ethan!" Mark skidded to a stop and was off his bike instantly, rushing back.
"I'm alive... but hurt dad," Ethan said quickly, voice strained.
Mark knelt beside him, one strong hand supporting his shoulders. "Don't move."
Mark then pulled his cellphone out and dialed 911. "Help's coming Ethan, just breathe and sit."
The two of them waited alongside the road on the narrow strip of grass, Mark's hand steady on Ethan's back as the minutes stretched and the wail of sirens slowly approached through the canyon.
At the ER, the doctor examined the X-rays and delivered the news plainly. "Medium bilateral wrist sprains with significant swelling and bruising."
"So they aren't broken?" Ethan asked with a tinge of hope in his voice.
"Not broken... Both wrists will need immobilization and limited use for the next 6 to 10 weeks before you're fully healed. Mild concussion symptoms are possible, so rest and monitoring is key. Pain meds for the first few days, ice, elevation, and no strenuous use of the hands."
"Wow this is oddly the best case. I really thought they were broken." Ethan said, staring off into space.
The doctor glanced up briefly and looked at Ethan. "You're lucky it wasn't worse. That could've gone a different way."
The doctor then looked at Mark. "Alright Mark, with both wrists like this, Ethan is going to need a lot of help. Be prepared to assist with almost everything -- cutting food, feeding him if necessary, helping with clothing, bathroom possibly, and definitely bathing. Ethan needs to keep the splints dry and on, so helping him in the shower is going to be important. It all depends on how well he adapts, but plan on doing a ton of hands-on support for the next several weeks."
Mark nodded once, steady. "Ok. Got it. We'll handle it." Then, glancing at Ethan, he added, "We'll figure it out together."
On the outside, Ethan was stoic and agreeable. On the inside, Ethan's stomach dropped. His mind was working fast and connecting the dots. His dad was going to have to help him with everything... everything. This all but guaranteed that his dad was going to see him naked. The idea of his dad helping with showers and clothing for 6 to 10 weeks made his chest tighten with embarrassment and anxiety.
The doctor stepped out to finalize the discharge papers, Ethan turned to his dad and shrugged, somewhat resigning to the situation for the moment.
"Let's get you dressed buddy," Mark said as he stood up and picked up a shirt.
Mark helped Ethan into a loose hospital shirt they borrowed from the nurse's station, his movements careful. "Tell me if I'm pulling too much," Mark said, adjusting the fabric around the splints.
"You're good," Ethan replied quietly. Mark then lent his stability and strength to help Ethan out of the ER bed. They signed the paperwork and headed home.
In the car on the way home, once they were finally alone with the doors closed and the road stretching out ahead, Ethan let out a long, frustrated groan and slumped back in his seat.
"Fuck me... This is going to completely fuck up my summer," he said, voice tight. "Tyler dumps me, I crash like an idiot, and now I'm stuck in these stupid splints for six to ten weeks. I can't ride, I can't do anything fun... I can't even fucking dress myself. This is going to be the most boring, humiliating summer of my life."
Mark kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting reassuringly on Ethan's thigh. He gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. "I know, son. It super fucking sucks," Mark said calmly, his voice warm and grounded. "It's not the summer you planned. But it's not gone. Just... different."
Ethan stared out the window at the passing foothills, still fuming. "I don't want to need help with everything. Especially not... you know. Showers and all that."
Mark let out a deep, warm laugh and gave his son's thigh a playful squeeze. "Hey, come on now -- you've got the best full-service dad in Colorado for the next six to ten weeks. Room service, personal assistant, the works. I'm basically your all-inclusive resort."
Ethan groaned at first, then burst into a short, reluctant laugh. "Oh my god, Dad... you're never gonna let me forget this, are you?"
"Probably not," Mark grinned, still chuckling. "But we'll make it work. Just you and me, like always."
The simple weight of his dad's big, warm hand on his thigh sent a low, guilty flicker of warmth through Ethan's belly. He swallowed hard, cheeks a little warmer than the pain in his wrists could explain.
Back at the house, Mark guided Ethan inside and straight to Ethan's bedroom. The familiar room felt smaller now, Ethan's room looked like a mix of old and temporary. Most of it hadn't changed, the same bed, the same dresser, but a hard-shell suitcase sat open near the wall, only partially unpacked. His laptop rested on the bed, screen dark, the charger trailing off the side, and his cycling gear hung over a chair, giving the sense he hadn't fully settled in yet.
"You need to get out of those biking shorts and the hospital shirt," Mark said calmly, already moving to the dresser. He pulled out a pair of loose mesh athletic shorts -- the kind with a soft inner liner but no separate underwear -- and a soft t-shirt for Ethan.
He set the clothes within easy reach, like Ethan might still be able to grab them himself.
Ethan stood there, wrists braced and useless. He tried anyway, awkwardly attempting to hook his thumbs into the waistband of the tight cycling shorts. The motion sent a sharp reminder through his swollen wrists and he hissed, stopping immediately.
He let his arms fall back to his sides, frustration written across his face. "I... I can't," he muttered, cheeks already burning. "This is so fucking embarrassing, Dad. I don't want you seeing me like this."
Mark's voice stayed steady and matter-of-fact, the same secure tone he always used. "I get it. You're nervous. But there's no avoiding it -- not for the next 6 to 10 weeks. I'm not going to make it weird. I'm just helping you get comfortable, son. You'd do the same for me."
He stepped a little closer but didn't rush in, giving Ethan a second to breathe.
Ethan swallowed hard and nodded once, resigned. There really was no way around it. "Okay... just--yeah. Just help me," he said quietly.
Mark, still fully clothed in his cycling jersey and shorts, stepped close, his large hands gentle. The room felt quieter now, the late afternoon light stretching across the floor and catching on the edge of the bed and the open suitcase nearby.
First he eased the loose hospital shirt up and off Ethan's arms, careful not to jostle the splints. "Easy, son," Mark murmured. "Tell me if anything hurts."
As the fabric came away, Mark's eyes flicked briefly over his son's bare torso -- the lean, athletic chest and shoulders shaped by years of riding and cardio, the subtle V-line at his hips, and the faint happy trail of dark hair leading downward. He said nothing, simply folding the shirt and setting it aside.
Then Mark crouched down fully, his face now level with Ethan's crotch. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of the tight black cycling shorts and pulled them down slowly over his son's hips and strong thighs, the stretchy fabric sliding away.
"We'll get faster at this," Mark said evenly, voice warm and fatherly.
The moment the shorts dropped to the floor, Ethan instinctively tried to cover himself with his bulky splinted forearms. The splints did an okay job at hiding most of his cock and balls, but the awkward angles left several open gaps -- trimmed dark pubes, the base of his shaft, and the soft sack of his balls still visible.
Ethan's mind was racing, "God, my cock looks so fucking small right now, Ethan thought, mortified heat flooding his face. I don't want Dad thinking I'm tiny like this..."
Mark stayed focused and helpful. He placed one steadying hand on Ethan's naked hip, his palm warm and firm against bare skin.
"Lift your foot, son," he said gently. He helped guide one foot, then the other out of the pooled shorts, his grip supportive and steady the whole time.
"Never been this close to another dude's crotch in my life," Mark thought fleetingly. "I've Changed him as a little boy, sure... but this is different. He's a grown man now." The observation passed through his mind and was gone just as quickly.
Despite the burning embarrassment, a strange, guilty thrill flickered through Ethan -- his dad's face so close to his exposed crotch, one strong hand resting on his bare hip. The confusing mix of shame and arousal from this unfamiliarity made his stomach flutter because for a moment in time, Ethan was standing completely naked in front of his fully clothed father.
Mark rose smoothly and picked up the clean pair of loose mesh athletic shorts, holding them open so Ethan could step in. "Lift your foot," Mark said, voice even and patient. "I've got you -- just take your time."
He guided Ethan's legs into the new loose mesh athletic shorts and pulled them up slowly over his strong thighs. The thin fabric settled against Ethan's skin with almost no barrier. As the waistband came into place, the distinct outline of his cock head became clearly visible through the light material -- no underwear underneath to hide anything.
Ethan's face stayed flushed the entire time. The casual curiosity he'd felt for years about his dad's package flickered briefly in his mind again, but right now it was completely drowned out by the sharp, burning embarrassment of standing completely naked in front of his dad for the first time since he was a little kid.
Mark handed him the soft t-shirt next. "Arms up as much as you can. I'll do the rest." He carefully worked the shirt over Ethan's splinted wrists and head, then smoothed it down over his chest. "We'll figure out an easier way if this keeps being frustrating," he added gently.
Once Ethan was fully dressed in the clean, comfortable clothes, Mark stepped back for a moment, then moved in again and placed a warm, fatherly hand on his son's upper back, rubbing slow, comforting circles between his shoulder blades.
"You good, son?" he asked softly.
Ethan let out a shaky breath, leaning slightly into the reassuring touch. "Yeah... thanks, Dad. I just... wasn't ready for that."
Mark kept his hand there a moment longer, the warmth of his palm steady and protective through the thin shirt. "That's alright. You don't have to be ready. That's what I'm here for." He gave one final gentle squeeze before letting go. "Now let's get you settled on the couch with some ice."
Mark guided his son out of the bedroom and into the living room. He helped Ethan ease down onto the couch, then grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and gently placed it over one of his splinted wrists. He did the same for the other side, making sure Ethan was comfortable with pillows behind his back.
The two of them sat there for a while in quiet familial companionship, the late afternoon sun warming the room. Mark had changed out of his cycling gear into a simple gray gym shirt and loose athletic shorts. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. The thin fabric clung to his powerful thighs and clearly outlined the heavy, thick shape of his cock -- the full, meaty length resting along one thigh with a prominent, rounded head clearly visible through the material.
"I... I need to use the restroom," Ethan said quietly, face already heating up.
Mark stood without hesitation and helped him up. "Alright, son. Let's get you there."
Once inside the half-bath, Ethan stood in front of the toilet. He tried to pull his mesh shorts down himself, hooking his thumbs into the waistband, but the bulky splints made even that simple motion painful and clumsy. He winced sharply and gave up after only a couple of inches.
Mark's voice was calm and patient. "You're hurting yourself trying to do it alone. Let me help, son."
Ethan hesitated, cheeks burning, then gave a small, defeated nod. Mark stepped close and hooked his fingers into the waistband. He pulled the loose mesh shorts down smoothly to Ethan's ankles, fully exposing his son's cute, firm little butt -- smooth and rounded from years of cycling, with almost no hair and a subtle, boyish curve that looked surprisingly endearing on his athletic frame.
Ethan stood there, legs slightly apart, needing to pee. His cock hung soft between his legs. Mark stayed right beside him.
"Do you need me to hold it and aim for you?" His tone stayed even, like he was asking any other practical question.
"No," Ethan said quickly, voice tight.
He started to pee anyway. The stream immediately sprayed and hit the toilet seat instead of the bowl. "Shit--" Ethan stopped mid-flow, mortified. "Okay... yeah. I need you to aim, Dad."
Mark moved in behind his son, pressing his broad, warm chest firmly against Ethan's back for stability. The thin fabric of his own athletic shorts did almost nothing to hide the heavy weight of his thick cock, which rested warmly against the top of Ethan's smooth bare ass crack. Ethan's breath hitched as he felt it -- thick, soft, and unmistakably there.
Mark leaned slightly to the side, reached around with his large hand, and took Ethan's cock into a gentle but confident finger grip, holding it the same casual way he would hold his own.
"This is probably just temporary," Mark said softly near his ear, voice calm and reassuring. "Your wrists got banged up pretty bad today. Once the swelling goes down and you heal a little, you won't need me helping with this every time. We'll get you back to doing it yourself soon."
The moment Mark's warm hand wrapped around him, Ethan's cock pulsed once -- partly from the unfamiliar touch, partly from the subtle pressure of his dad's thick cock nestled against his ass crack. He started peeing again, the stream now perfectly aimed into the bowl.
When he finished, Mark gave Ethan's cock a couple of gentle, practical shakes to get the last drops out, then carefully pulled the mesh shorts back up over his hips.
Mark let out a low, amused chuckle. "Well... that's a first for me. Never held someone else's dick while they were peeing before."
Ethan let out a surprised laugh despite his embarrassment. "Holy shit... I've never had anyone hold my dick while I peed either."
Mark grinned, clearly trying to lighten the moment. "Yay, first timers," he said, lifting his hand for a celebratory high-five.
Ethan looked at his bulky splints and burst out laughing. Mark realized what he'd done at the same moment and started laughing too, lowering his hand.
"Damn. Forgot about those," Mark said, still chuckling warmly. "We'll save the high-five for when you're healed."
He gave Ethan's shoulder a gentle, fatherly squeeze. "You did good, son. One step at a time."
"I... I think I want to head to bed now," Ethan said softly.
Mark nodded. "Come on, son. Let's get you settled."
"You've had a long day," he added, quieter now.
He guided Ethan to his bedroom, helped him into bed with careful adjustments to the pillows and blankets so his wrists stayed elevated and comfortable, then clicked off the main light, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
"Call out if you need anything during the night," Mark said, standing in the doorway. "I'll check on you. We've got this."
He lingered for a second longer than usual before stepping out.
Ethan lay there in the dim room, the day's events replaying in his head -- the embarrassment, the odd thrill, the confusing thoughts that kept surfacing. The summer ahead stretched long in front of him, full of moments exactly like this one.
Three days later...
Considering the situation, things had been going surprisingly well. Mark had fallen into a steady rhythm with preparing meals, feeding Ethan when needed, assisting with bathroom trips, managing pain medication, and helping with clothing changes. The house had started to adjust around them, small routines settling in without much fanfare.
Both of them were slowly getting familiar with the limits this summer would have. Ethan's wrists remained heavily braced, and the doctor's warning of 6 to 10 weeks before full healing loomed over every task.
Despite the lingering pain and frustration, Ethan had been waking up every morning with strong, aching erections that tented his mesh athletic shorts noticeably. His cock would throb with need, the slit often slick with pre-cum that left a small damp spot in the thin fabric. So far, he had managed to hide them completely from his dad by staying under the covers until they subsided.
That evening, they sat at the dinner table. Mark had cut Ethan's food into small pieces and occasionally guided a fork to his mouth when needed. He poured himself a glass of wine and let Ethan have a small amount now that he was off the stronger pain meds.
For the first time since the accident, the conversation felt light and genuinely enjoyable -- a real father-son moment.
They talked about old cycling routes they wanted to ride again once Ethan healed, funny stories from Ethan's college days, and more.
As the plates emptied, Mark leaned back and looked at Ethan seriously but kindly.
"Listen, son... It's been three days. You're starting to smell like a locker room. We need to get you properly clean tonight. A bath would be the easiest way right now."
Ethan shifted in his seat. His shoulders tensed slightly, the ease from a moment ago fading just a bit. "Nah, I'm good for now. Maybe tomorrow."
Mark raised an eyebrow, not letting it go. "Come on. What's really going on?"
Ethan hesitated, then finally admitted, "I'm just... shy about it, Dad. Being bathed by you feels weird." He glanced away as he said it.
Mark's expression softened, fatherly and reassuring. "You shouldn't be shy, son. I've seen you naked more times in the last few days than in the past ten years combined. I've helped you in the bathroom... it's just part of taking care of you right now."
Ethan felt a small, confusing flutter low in his belly. His cock gave a subtle twitch inside the mesh shorts.
Ethan let out a breath and nodded. "Yeah... okay. You're right. I really should take a bath tonight."
Mark smiled, "That's my boy."
At the table, Ethan asked quietly, "Are you ever uncomfortable helping me with all this? The bathroom stuff and... everything?"
Mark shook his head. "Not uncomfortable, son. Just new territory for me... You're my boy -- I'd do anything for you." He paused, voice warm. "Most dads never get to help their sons like this, so in a way... I'm lucky I get to be here for you."
They both laughed, the tension breaking a little.
Mark continued, half-joking, "You're probably used to another guy touching your dick, but for me this is all new territory."
Ethan chuckled. "You give me too much credit. It's not like there's a line of dudes trying to touch it." He paused, then asked curiously, "Is mine really the first one you've ever touched besides your own?"
Mark raised his hand in a mock oath. "Swear."
Ethan's cock gave another subtle twitch at the confirmation. He quickly chalked the growing semi up to simply being horny after three days of limited movement and constant morning wood.
"Well, despite this being your first, your pee aim game is top notch," Ethan said.
Mark burst out laughing. "Thanks, buddy."
The easy laughter lingered for a moment before Ethan shifted again. "Speaking of aiming... Before the bath I need to pee."
Mark nodded. "Okay. Let's head to the bathroom."
Mark stood and headed to the bathroom and Ethan followed shortly behind. Mark started running the water for the tub, letting warm water run at a low level so the splints could stay safely dry. When he turned around, Mark reached for Ethan's shirt to help him out of it.
Ethan paused. "Aren't we peeing first?"
Mark chuckled softly. "Well, I assumed you'd pee and then go right in the tub. Makes sense, right?"
Ethan blinked. "Oh... okay."
Mark helped him out of the shirt, then moved to the shorts. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down to the floor. Ethan's cock was not fully soft but wasn't a full erection either -- it had a relaxed, heavy fullness that made it look noticeably thicker than it had on that first stressed night in the bedroom.
Mark thought to himself that Ethan's cock looked bigger than usual tonight. He wondered if this was closer to his true size and found it kind of funny how it seemed to keep "growing" each time he saw it compared to the first day.
Naked now, Ethan walked to the toilet. Mark followed and positioned himself behind him, one hand resting softly on each of Ethan's naked hips for balance. He then reached around with his right hand, softly grabbed Ethan's dick and aimed it toward the bowl.
Ethan set his bladder free, the stream steady thanks to Mark's help. When he finished, Mark gave it a couple of gentle shakes. The shakes felt heavier tonight as Ethan's cock had thickened in his hand. Mark helped turn Ethan around and pointed him toward the running bath.
As Ethan took a step, he heard the sound of another stream behind him. He turned his head slightly and saw his dad now peeing into the same toilet. Mark hadn't flushed after Ethan, so their pee mixed together in the bowl. The sight felt oddly taboo to Ethan -- strangely intimate and body-bonding in a way he couldn't quite explain. Mark finished, tucked himself back into his athletic shorts, flushed and turned around. Ethan quickly shifted his eyes so his dad wouldn't catch him watching.
Ethan stepped carefully into the tub. Mark stood on the outside, hands steady on Ethan's sides as he helped lower him down to sit on the wide edge with his legs in the warm water, keeping the splints safely elevated and dry.
As Ethan lowered himself, his balls were the first to make contact, dipping gently into the warm water with a soft splash. The loose skin tightened slightly from the heat. Next came the smooth, circumcised head of his cock, brushing the surface before slipping under. Finally the thicker shaft followed, sliding downward until the entire length was submerged in the clear hot water. Beneath the surface, it floated with a gentle heaviness, the trimmed dark pubes drifting lazily around the base while the warm temperature made the skin appear smoother and slightly flushed.
The bath heat felt good -- soothing against his tired muscles after three days of limited movement.
Before starting, Mark pulled off his gray gym shirt and set it aside, revealing his lean, efficient torso -- decades of consistent riding had kept him strong and defined without bulk, with a light dusting of graying hair across his chest and a faint happy trail disappearing into his athletic shorts. Ethan couldn't help noticing how solid and capable his dad looked, the kind of physique that came from quiet discipline rather than show. Being this close while Mark was closer to naked too made the whole situation feel even more intimate.
Mark lathered the washcloth and started at Ethan's neck and shoulders, using slow, firm strokes. The warm soapy cloth moved across the tight muscles, easing away the tension from the crash. Ethan let out a long breath, eyes half-closed. He needed this more than he realized.
When the cloth reached the scrapes and bruises along Ethan's upper back from the fall, a sharp sting flared for a moment. Ethan hissed softly but didn't pull away.
"Sorry, son," Mark murmured, gentler now. "I'll go lighter."
He finished the back, then moved to Ethan's armpits, scrubbing away the sweat and man musk from the crash and past few days. Next was Ethan's chest. The soapy cloth glided over his strong pectorals, causing his nipples to become erect. Mark then moved down the subtle V-line at his hips. Almost immediately Ethan's cock began to respond, thickening slowly in the warm water.
Mark kept his touch practical. He soaped Ethan's hips and lower stomach, then paused. "I'm going to wash your dick and balls now," he said calmly, giving fair warning. "Let me know if anything hurts or feels off."
Ethan nodded, heart picking up.
Mark gently cupped Ethan's cock in his large hand, holding it with fatherly, familial care while the washcloth cleaned the shaft in slow, thorough strokes. The head was lifted and rinsed, then the balls were cradled and washed one at a time. Mark softly dropped Ethan meaty cock and balls. Ethan felt his cock move across his thigh as Mark worked, the warm water and steady touch making it swell heavier.
Then Mark moved behind him. "Lean forward a little more, son. I need to get you fully clean back here too."
Ethan obeyed, using his elbows to lift his hips and leaning forward. Mark lathered the cloth again and gently spread Ethan's smooth, firm cheeks. He washed Ethan's ass with slow, careful strokes, the soapy soft cloth gliding over the sensitive skin and circling his tight hole. At one point, the wash cloth slipped, allowing one of Mark's fingers to gently clean around the rim. The warm, slippery touch felt incredibly intimate.
Ethan's breath hitched sharply.
"Fuck... Dad's touching my ass and legitimately touching my hole," Ethan thought, mortified and intensely turned on at the same time.
Oh no... it's happening, Ethan thought, a spike of worry cutting through the relaxation. "Please don't keep growing... not right now." But it did.
As Mark continued cleaning, Ethan's cock grew and grew, rising steadily out of the water. By the time Mark moved down to his thighs and calves, Ethan's cock was almost completely hard -- a solid 7 inches of thick, flushed pink shaft curving upward in a gentle arch, the smooth circumcised head now fully exposed and glistening, the girth substantial enough that it stood proud at a forty-five-degree angle, veins subtly visible along the length, the head slightly flared and a shade darker than the shaft.
Mark noticed immediately. He was honestly impressed by the size and girth -- almost proud of what he had fathered. Ethan sure appeared to be a healthy young man.
Ethan stared down at his own lap, face burning with embarrassment and Mark could sense Ethan's discomfort.
"Here you go buddy." Mark said as he took the soapy washcloth and quickly threw it over Ethan's hard cock, creating a small, ridiculous tent.
However the cloth covered only the shaft and head, but because he was so big it didn't reach far enough to cover his balls, which remained clearly visible beneath the water, hanging heavy and exposed.
"Dad... I'm sorry," Ethan muttered, voice tight. "I don't know why this is happening. It's embarrassing as hell."
Mark paused, towel in hand, and looked down calmly. He didn't flinch or look away. "Hey, it's okay, son. Bodies do what they do sometimes. Especially with the warm water and everything you've been through the last few days. I get boners too -- it's just part of being a dude. Chill just a bit."
Ethan swallowed, still mortified but relieved that Mark wasn't making it weird. The fatherly reassurance hit deep. He was tired of fighting the awkwardness for the night.
Mark asked gently, "I think we're done. Ready to get out or do you want to soak for a bit?"
Still overthinking, Ethan quickly stated, "No, I can get out now."
Mark helped Ethan stand. The washcloth, barely clinging to his hard cock, acting almost like a impromptu towel rack. It hung on for a moment before it finally dropped into the water with a soft splash, fully exposing Ethan again. His cock was now starting to deflate but still sizeable -- thick and heavy, hanging with a slight forward curve.
Mark helped him out of the tub, then dried him off with steady, efficient wipes. Mark had to then softly dry Ethan's cock and balls, gently lifting and patting them dry with the towel.
"Alright buddy, let's get you to your room so we can get you dressed."
"Ok dad."
Mark walked Ethan to his bedroom and helped him get dressed. As Ethan stepped into the fresh pair of athletic mesh athletic shorts, his cock was still semi-hard, hanging at eye level for Mark. The thin fabric settled into place, creating a very obvious mound with the distinct shape of the head clearly visible.
Mark adjusted the waistband comfortably and stepped back.
"Better?" he asked, voice calm and reassuring as always.
"Yeah dad, thanks."
He guided Ethan into bed, carefully adjusting the pillows so his wrists stayed elevated and comfortable. Mark pulled the blanket up over him and tucked it gently around his shoulders.
"I love you, buddy," Mark said softly, giving Ethan's shoulder a light squeeze. "Get some rest. I'll check on you during the night if you need anything."
Two days later...
The routine had continued -- meals, bathroom help, pain management, clothing changes -- but Ethan had been quietly dreading the next bathing session. The rhythm had become familiar, but not comfortable -- not yet.
The bath had been a nightmare of awkwardness for Ethan, and the thought of doing it again made his stomach twist. He wasn't confident he could control his cock anymore.
That evening, after dinner, Mark brought up his idea for the next bathing session. The dishes were still on the table, the moment casual enough that it almost caught Ethan off guard.
Mark stood at the sink, rinsing plates under warm water, his back partially turned but his attention fully on Ethan. The steady sound of running water filled the space as he worked
"I've been thinking," he said, setting a plate into the dishwasher. "The bath worked okay, but it's not ideal for my back. The shower would be better. I can stand behind you or even have you sit on the bench, that way I can wash your back properly without you having to lean forward so much, and the water just runs off -- easier to keep the splints dry and get a good rinse everywhere. No sitting in soapy water the whole time." He glanced over his shoulder. "You up for trying it tonight?"
Ethan hesitated, nerves bubbling up, but how could he deny? He knew he had to bathe so perhaps the shower would be less awkward. "Yeah... I mean if that helps with your back. That sounds better. Better than the bath at least."
Mark nodded, turning back to the sink, rinsing another dish. "We'll take it slow," he said. "Same as everything else." Mark was somewhat nervous himself, this was new territory but he didn't show it. His face stayed calm and reassuring as always.
They headed to the bathroom. The renovated shower was large enough for more than two people. The space carried that same clean, slightly upscale feel as the rest of the house -- muted green tones in the tile, glass panels already faintly fogging as the water warmed. An added benefit was that it had a bench as well.
Mark turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. He tested it with his hand for a few seconds, making sure it wouldn't be too hot against Ethan's already sensitive skin.
Then he helped Ethan out of his shirt and athletic shorts, stripping him efficiently but gently until he was completely naked. His movements were practiced now -- not rushed, not hesitant, just almost normal.
"Alright, son. Go ahead and put your hands up high -- elbows bent if you need to. Keep them up there the whole time so we don't get the splints wet."
Ethan took a breath and slowly raised both arms above his head, the bulky splints making the position feel even more vulnerable. His face warmed with embarrassment. Mark gave an approving nod, then reached over and slid the glass shower door open. Warm steam rolled out as the water continued running.
"Good. Just like that," Mark said gently, placing a steadying hand on Ethan's bare hip. "Step on in. I'll be in after you in just a second."
Ethan stepped into the shower first, the warm spray hitting his skin. The heat wrapped around him almost immediately, easing some of the tension he hadn't realized he was holding. He kept his braced wrists raised and out of the direct water.
Mark followed him in and closed the glass door. The sound of the water filled the space, muffling everything outside and sealing them into the moment. Only then did Ethan let his eyes drift downward.
There it was -- the very thing he had quietly wondered about for years. Ever since he was a teenager, he'd had that mild, passing curiosity about how he compared to his dad and now it was right in front of him, no longer hidden behind tight cycling shorts. Mark was also naked.
Mark's cock hung soft but heavy between his strong thighs -- thick, cut like Ethan's, with a smooth rounded head and a slight forward curve. It looked roughly the same size as Ethan's when soft, yet somehow fuller and more mature. You could definitely tell that Ethan was Mark's son.
Ethan's cock responded almost immediately. A sudden, involuntary twitch pulsed through his shaft, followed by a warm rush of blood as it began to thicken and lift noticeably under the spray.
"Holy shit... that's my dad's cock! And we're showering together... naked," he thought, the old innocent curiosity suddenly becoming very real, very naked, and very close.
Mark noticed Ethan's gaze and spoke calmly. "I elected to go naked alongside you in solidarity. Plus, I need to shower too, so it kills two birds with one stone. Easier for both of us this way. Is this okay with you?"
Ethan managed a small, surprised smile. "Yeah... yes. Welcome to the club, Dad."
Mark gave him a small, gentle nudge with his elbow.
"Alright, let's start with your hair. Why don't you sit on the bench so you're away from the water."
Ethan agreed and took a step toward the bench and sat down. Mark stepped closer, positioning himself directly in front of his son. He reached for the shampoo bottle, squeezing a generous amount into his palm. As he did, his thick, heavy cock hung just inches from Ethan's face -- soft but full, swaying gently with his movements.
A few drops of water streamed down the thick shaft, making the smooth, rounded head glisten. It was so close that Ethan could see the faint veins along its length and the way it hung with a slight forward curve, heavy and mature.
Ethan's breathing slowed. His own cock twitched hard between his legs as he stared, unable to look away.
Mark finished working the shampoo through Ethan's hair, his fingers gentle but thorough. "Okay, son. Time to rinse."
Mark slid one strong arm around Ethan's waist and carefully lifted him to his feet, holding him steady. With Ethan's arms still raised high to protect the splints, Mark positioned himself directly behind his son, his broad chest pressed lightly against Ethan's back.
"Keep your arms up," Mark murmured, tilting Ethan's head forward under the warm spray. Water cascaded over his hair, rinsing away the suds in thick white streams.
As Mark reached to adjust the showerhead, his hips shifted forward slightly. Ethan felt it immediately -- the soft, warm weight of his dad's thick bare cock brushing gently against the crack of his ass. The heavy length pressed lightly between his cheeks for a brief moment before Mark moved back again.
"Sorry," Mark said quietly.
Ethan let out a small laugh. "It's totally fine, Dad."
The fleeting contact sent a sharp jolt through him. Mark finished rinsing the shampoo from Ethan's hair, then gently placed both hands on his son's shoulders.
"Turn around for me, son," he said softly. "I'll wash my own hair now so I can get the rest of you properly."
With a steady but careful grip, Mark slowly spun Ethan around so they were facing each other. The movement brought them even closer in the confined space. Ethan kept his braced arms raised high, elbows bent, as instructed.
Mark squeezed more shampoo into his palm and began working it into his own short, graying hair. White suds quickly formed and started running down his strong chest, over the light dusting of gray hair, and along the faint happy trail on his stomach. Thick rivers of soapy water streamed down his body, tracing the defined lines of his abs before flowing over his thick, heavy cock. The suds clung briefly to the smooth head and shaft before sliding off, dripping onto the shower floor.
Ethan couldn't help but stare. The sight of the soapy water cascading over his dad's naked body, especially the way it ran down that thick cock, made his own erection throb visibly between them.
Mark seemed unaware of the effect he was having on Ethan. Mark picked up the loofah, lathered it generously with soap, and began washing Ethan's torso and armpits with steady, thorough strokes. Ethan's cock responded almost immediately, twitching and beginning to thicken.
Mark worked his way downward. When he reached Ethan's cock and balls, he cupped them gently in one large hand, holding the thickening shaft and heavy balls securely while he loofahed them with the other. By now Ethan's cock had grown noticeably thicker, filling out Mark's palm with a warm, substantial weight.
Mark continued down Ethan's legs, then stepped back slightly.
"Turn around for me, son," he said calmly. "I'll get your back."
Ethan turned, keeping his braced arms raised high. Mark stepped closer and began scrubbing his son's shoulders and spine with the soapy loofah. The warm water streamed down between them.
"Put one foot up on the bench," Mark instructed gently. "I need to get your ass properly clean."
Ethan obeyed, lifting his right leg and resting his foot on the built-in shower bench. The position opened him up. Mark moved the loofah over Ethan's firm, smooth ass cheeks, scrubbing them thoroughly before gently spreading them. He carefully cleaned around Ethan's tight hole with slow, deliberate circles of the soapy loofah.
By the time Mark finished, Ethan was fully erect, his thick cock standing flushed and proud, throbbing visibly under the spray.
Mark then washed his own back and ass. The two of them stood close in the large shower, water cascading over both bodies.
Ethan continued to face the wall, praying his erection would deflate. His cock ached attention, it was becoming maddening.
"Alright let's have you do one more rinse and we'll be done," Mark said as he started to physically turn Ethan around.
"Sorry Dad... I--"
Mark gently stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Ethan, it's fine. We talked about this. It's just us -- two Sullivan guys. Nothing to be embarrassed about."
He stepped behind Ethan and wrapped his strong arms around his son's chest in a warm, reassuring hug from behind. Their wet bodies pressed together under the spray. Mark's heavy, soft cock nestled comfortably into the crack of Ethan's smooth ass for the second time in the shower. The thick length settled warmly between his cheeks.
Ethan's heart pounded. After a moment, he spoke softly, voice barely audible over the water.
"Dad... can I be honest with you?"
Mark's arms tightened slightly around him. "Of course, son. Always. You can tell me anything.
He loosened the hug but kept one hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Here, let's sit down on the bench so we can talk properly."
Ethan hesitated, painfully aware of his fully hard cock standing upright and throbbing. "I'm... still really hard right now."
Mark's voice stayed calm and kind. "That's okay. I've already seen everything. Come on."
They both moved to the built-in shower bench. Ethan sat first, his erection pointing straight up, thick and flushed. Mark sat down beside him, turning slightly so they were facing each other.
The warm water continued to cascade over their legs. Mark's balls hung noticeably lower and fuller from the heat of the shower, and his cock looked plumper than earlier. Both their cocks glistened with water, slick and shining under the spray.
Mark looked at his son with steady, patient eyes. "Alright... talk to me."
Ethan took a shaky breath, eyes fixed on the shower floor. "I worked so hard on finals the last two weeks of school that I didn't jerk off once. Then the accident happened and it's been even longer... I'm really frustrated, Dad. My cock and balls actually hurt from not getting any release. I just... I really need it."
Mark listened quietly, his expression full of love and understanding. "I get it, son. That sounds miserable. And listen -- I don't care if you get hard. Ever. You're my boy. No judgment from me."
Ethan whispered, "Thank you..." He gathered his courage and looked Mark in the eyes. "Would you... be willing to help me out?"
Mark's eyes softened with deep affection. He reached out and placed a warm, steady hand on Ethan's shoulder.
"Ethan..." he said gently, his voice low and kind. "I love you more than anything, and I want to take care of you. I really do. But I can't help you with that." He gave Ethan's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I've never done anything like that before, and I'm not gay. It just doesn't feel right to me. I'm sorry, son. I know you're hurting and frustrated, and I hate that I can't give you what you need right now."
Ethan looked down, embarrassment flooding his face. Water dripped steadily from his hair and shoulders as his posture tightened.
"I'm sorry... I crossed the line."
Mark immediately shook his head and pulled his son closer, wrapping one strong arm around Ethan's shoulders in a protective half-embrace.
"No, you didn't cross any line," he said softly, his voice warm and full of love. "You're not a creep or a pervert. You're my son, and you're struggling. I'm really glad you felt safe enough to ask me. That means everything."
Mark's refusal hung gently in the warm, steamy air between them. For a few long seconds, the only sound was the steady rush of the shower. Then Mark reached over and turned off the water. The sudden quiet made the bathroom feel smaller, more intimate. Droplets continued to fall from the showerhead, echoing softly.
Mark stepped out first and grabbed two large towels. He dried Ethan with steady, careful strokes -- moving the towel over his chest, back, and legs with the same patient care he'd shown all week. Ethan remained quiet, still processing everything that had just been said.
Once Ethan was dry, Mark wrapped a towel around his son's waist, then quickly dried himself and tied another towel low around his own hips.
He studied Ethan for a moment, reading the quiet tension in his shoulders. Before Mark could say anything, Ethan spoke, his voice small.
"Dad... do you think of me differently now?"
Mark's expression softened with deep affection. He stepped forward and pulled his son into a warm, full hug, one hand resting gently at the back of Ethan's head, the other firm and comforting across his upper back.
"No, son," Mark said softly, holding him close. "I don't think of you differently at all. You're still my boy. You're still Ethan. The only thing that's changed is that I see how much you're hurting and how much you trust me. That just makes me love you more."
They stayed like that for a long moment, long enough for some of the tension in Ethan's shoulders to begin to ease.
When they finally pulled apart, Mark helped Ethan into a fresh pair of mesh athletic shorts. The thin fabric settled normally now, showing only a soft, natural outline. Ethan's cock had gone flaccid again.
Mark walked his son down the hallway to his bedroom. He helped Ethan into bed, carefully adjusting the pillows so his wrists stayed elevated and comfortable, then tucked the blanket gently around him.
"Get some rest, buddy," Mark said softly, giving Ethan's shoulder one last squeeze. "I'll check on you if you need anything. I'll be right down the hall."
Later that same night...
Around 2:30 AM, Mark woke to a faint noise coming from the bathroom. He got up and quietly pushed the door open -- Ethan had forgotten to lock it.
Ethan was standing in front of the sink in the dim glow of the night-light, struggling with his braced hands. His mesh shorts were halfway down his thighs, dark wet spots visible on the front. He was trying to wipe at the mess.
Mark stepped inside. "What's going on, buddy? Everything ok?"
Ethan looked up, face flush with exhaustion and embarrassment. "I... I had a wet dream. I'm trying to get these shorts off and clean up so I can go back to sleep."
Mark's expression softened with care. "Okay, buddy. Let me help."
Ethan hesitated, voice small. "Dad... based on what we talked about in the shower, I should probably clean up myself."
"I understand," Mark said gently, "but you can't right now with the splints. I'm here for you."
Ethan gave a small, defeated nod. Mark hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled the shorts down to the floor. The moment they dropped, a strong, thick, musky scent of fresh cum hit him.
"Holy shit... that's my son's cum," Mark thought.
He had never smelled, felt, or seen another man's cum before -- let alone his own son's. The scent was potent, intimate, and unmistakably masculine. It was all brand new territory.
Ethan had shot an impressive load. Thick, pearly strands coated his softening cock, his heavy balls, and his trimmed pubes. Some was still warm and slowly oozing from the slit of his cock in a slow, viscous drip.
"This is so fucking humiliating," Ethan thought, mortified. "Dad is literally cleaning my cum off of me... after everything we talked about earlier."
Mark got down on his knees in front of his son without hesitation. He grabbed toilet paper first, then a warm washcloth, and began cleaning him carefully. He held Ethan's softening cock gently in one hand, lifting it so he could wipe the underside and around the smooth circumcised head. More cum oozed out as he worked, thick and slippery. He then cupped Ethan's balls, rolling them softly in his palm to clean the heavy sac. The cum had matted some of the trimmed pubes, and Mark used his thumb to gently work the cloth through the hair, removing every trace.
When a thick glob of cum got onto Mark's fingers, Ethan whispered hoarsely, "Sorry..."
Mark shook his head, voice calm and steady. "Don't worry about it, bud. Hazard of the job."
He finished cleaning as best he could, then helped Ethan step out of the ruined shorts and into a fresh pair. He also changed Ethan's shirt, which had picked up a small smear on the hem.
Mark noticed how defeated Ethan looked -- shoulders slumped, eyes tired and downcast. He pulled his son into a gentle side hug, holding him close for a moment.
"Come on," Mark said softly. "Sleep in my bed tonight. It'll be easier if you need anything during the night."
Ethan, too exhausted to argue, nodded. Mark walked him to the big bed, helped him lie down, carefully adjusted the pillows to keep his wrists elevated, and tucked the blanket around him before climbing in on the other side.
The next morning, Ethan woke slowly, still tucked warmly against Mark's side in the big bed. Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains. For a brief moment everything felt almost normal -- until the memories of the previous night came rushing back.
Mark was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching his son with quiet concern. He didn't bring up last night right away.
"Morning, buddy," Mark said gently, his voice warm. "Sleep okay?"
Ethan nodded, shifting a little closer. "Yeah."
They stayed in bed for a while, enjoying the lazy summer morning. Mark grabbed the remote and turned on the morning news at a low volume. They watched together in comfortable silence, the familiar rhythm of the anchors' voices filling the room. Ethan's head rested lightly against Mark's shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his dad's chest soothing after the emotional night.
After about half an hour, Mark muted the TV. He shifted slightly, looking a little uncertain. His fingers tapped once against the remote before he set it aside.
"Ethan..." he started, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. "Can we... talk about last night? When you're ready."
Ethan stayed quiet and nodded. His eyes wide as he listened.
Mark took a slow breath, his voice heavy with regret. "I feel so bad about last night, son. I feel guilty as hell. You were honest with me, you were struggling, and I turned you down. Because of that, you ended up having that wet dream and had to try cleaning up alone in the middle of the night with those splints on. That's on me. I should have been there for you."
Ethan looked up, surprised.
Mark continued, tone warm but serious. "So here's the truth: while you're in those splints and can't take care of yourself, I will help you anytime you really need to cum. No judgment. No shame. You're my son, and I don't want you in pain or frustrated like that.
Ethan's eyes widened. His cock instantly began to swell under the sheet, hardening rapidly. For a moment he was too stunned to speak.
"Dad... wow, I'm in shock," he finally said, voice quiet. "But... I don't think I can let you do that. It's too much. You already do so much for me."
Mark shook his head gently, squeezing Ethan's shoulder. "I know it feels like a lot. But I meant what I said yesterday -- I'm here to take care of you. All of you. If you're hurting and you need release, I'd rather help you than have you suffer in silence. It's just relief, son. Nothing more. Let me do this for you."
Ethan swallowed hard, his face flushed. His cock continued to grow until it was completely erect, tenting the sheet noticeably. After a long pause, he gave a small, overwhelmed nod.
"Okay... yeah. If I really need it."
Mark smiled softly, clearly relieved. "Good. That's all I needed to hear."
They both got out of bed. Mark pulled Ethan into a warm, full hug. As they embraced, Mark felt Ethan's hard cock press firmly against his thigh through the thin fabric of his shorts.
Mark let out a small, amused chuckle and gave the tented bulge a light, playful bonk with the back of his fingers.
"Well, looks like someone's already excited about the new arrangement," he joked. "Let that calm down a bit first. I'll go make us some breakfast."
Four days later...
After a quiet dinner, Mark suggested they get out of the house for a bit.
"Let's take a short walk. Fresh air will do us both good."
They strolled slowly around the neighborhood, Mark matching Ethan's pace.
"You know what I noticed?" Mark said with a chuckle. "We're both starting to look like vampires. We've been stuck inside so much that we're way too pale for two supposed cyclists."
Ethan laughed, glancing down at his arms. "Yeah... I'm basically see-through at this point."
"We need to fix that soon," Mark replied. "Summer's not going to wait for your wrists to heal. We should get some sun on the back patio tomorrow -- nothing crazy, just enough so we don't look like we've been living in a cave."
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the evening air cool and quiet. The sun had dipped low enough to cast long shadows across the street, the neighborhood settling into that calm end-of-day rhythm.
When they got back home, Mark headed toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna take a shower. Do you need one too?"
Ethan nodded. "Yeah... I do." There was less hesitation this time.
They went to the bathroom together. The routine didn't feel new anymore -- just something they handled.
Mark turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature. While they waited for the water to warm up, he helped Ethan out of his shirt, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of the mesh athletic shorts and pulled them down. Ethan's cock hung completely soft between his legs.
Mark then stripped off his own clothes without ceremony. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his athletic shorts. His thick, heavy cock hung soft but full between his powerful thighs, swaying slightly as he moved.
They stood side by side, completely naked, waiting for the water to warm. Mark glanced at their reflections in the mirror and suddenly struck a casual double bicep pose, flexing his arms and chest with a grin.
Ethan burst out laughing at the sight; his dad standing there completely naked and playfully flexing. Mark's thick, heavy cock swayed heavily with the movement, the smooth head bouncing lightly.
Mark held the pose for a second, then relaxed. "We both got the Sullivan build. Same shoulders, same V-taper from all the riding, can bounce back into shape fast." He turned slightly and flexed his quads. "Go on, show me what you've got."
Feeling a rush of playful embarrassment, his cock responded from the attention. Ethan raised his braced arms as best he could and flexed his shoulders and chest, then tightened his quads.
Mark let out a low whistle. "Not bad. Those legs are looking strong even after the crash."
Mark watched with amusement, then turned sideways in the mirror, showing off his slender build and firm, rounded ass. He then stepped closer to Ethan, suddenly grabbed him in a playful wrestling hold from the side, their naked bodies briefly pressing together. Ethan felt the warm weight of Mark's thick cock brush against his hip and thigh. The contact sent a rush of heat through him -- his own cock twitched again and swelled noticeably, growing heavier between his legs.
Mark laughed, holding the fake "headlock" for a second. "See? With those splints on, I could still take you. Sullivan strength, baby!"
Ethan laughed breathlessly as Mark let go. His cock was now clearly completely erect.
Mark pointed to Ethan's hard cock, "Couldn't pin that one down even with all my strength." Mark laughed and nudged Ethan.
Ethan giggled, surprisingly ok with the cock centric joke, "Like you said dad, Sullivan body!"
Mark gave Ethan's smooth ass a quick, playful smack. "Alright, enough showing off. Let's get in the shower, bud."
Ethan jumped slightly at the smack, both of them laughing as they stepped under the now-warm spray. Mark guided Ethan to sit on the built-in bench. While Ethan sat, Mark's own semi-hard cock hung heavily right in front of his son's face as he gently washed Ethan's hair, then worked the soapy loofah down over his chest and torso with slow, thorough strokes.
When Mark finished the upper body, he said softly, "Stand up for me."Ethan stood. As he rose, his rigid cock accidentally knocked against Mark's, the two shafts brushing firmly.
They both snickered lightly, the moment awkward but lighthearted. Mark then knelt slightly and gently soaped up Ethan's stiff length, stroking the loofah along the rigid shaft and carefully cleaning his balls.
Ethan let out a soft, involuntary moan."Sorry..." Ethan apologized quickly, his voice breathy.
Mark smiled kindly, eyes warm with understanding. "That must have felt good, huh?"
"Yeah... I haven't ya know... since that night," Ethan admitted shyly.
"Oh well yeah, I would assume so buddy," Mark replied gently, nodding with understanding as he gave Ethan's hip a reassuring squeeze.
The brief interaction sent a fresh twitch through Mark's own cock, causing it to thicken noticeably under the warm spray. Mark helped Ethan stand fully and spun him around so the shower stream could rinse him. He carefully ran his hands over Ethan's body, helping wash away all the shampoo and suds. As the water cascaded down, Ethan backed up slightly and Mark's now-thicker cock slid right between his ass cheeks, nestling warmly in the crack. Neither of them moved away. Ethan's aching cock throbbed hard in front of him, leaking slightly from the intense contact.
After a long moment, Mark asked softly, "You ready to get out?"
Ethan hesitated, cheeks burning. His voice came out shy and timid. "Um... you said you'd take care of me if I needed it. I... I think I need it tonight."
Mark took a slow breath, the moment suddenly feeling very real. "You ready to cash in that offer?"
Ethan nodded yes quickly, eyes downcast but eager.
"Alright," Mark said gently. "Let's get out and dry off, then we can."
Ethan's mind began to race. It was one thing to offer, another to take up the offer, and then another to agree to abide by the offer. Mark stepped out first and wrapped a towel around his waist. He helped Ethan out of the shower and grabbed a fresh towel. Starting at his shoulders, Mark dried him slowly, rubbing the soft fabric down his chest and stomach. He knelt down to dry Ethan's legs and feet, his face now level with the younger man's throbbing erection. The thick cock bobbed slightly with every heartbeat, the flushed head glistening. Mark took his time, letting the towel brush teasingly close as he worked upward again, deliberately grazing the sensitive skin of Ethan's inner thighs. Ethan stayed completely naked and dry while Mark remained in his towel. They started walking toward the bedrooms, the air thick with anticipation.
They stepped into Mark's bedroom. The lamp on the nightstand cast a soft, warm glow over the navy sheets. Ethan stood completely naked, his cock still heavy between his legs but beginning to soften slightly from the walk down the hall. Mark closed the door quietly behind them.
Ethan shifted nervously. "Dad... I know you said you'd help, but... are you sure you really want to do this? You don't have to if it feels wrong."
Mark turned to face him, his expression calm and steady. "I'm a man of my word, Ethan. I told you I'd take care of you if you really needed it. This is how a dad can help a son... others may not understand."
He walked over to the bed and helped Ethan climb onto it carefully, supporting his back and making sure his splinted wrists stayed safe. Once Ethan was settled, Mark walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in, both of them sitting up with their backs against the headboard.
Mark glanced over at his son. His voice was quieter now. "I've never done this before, though. Just my own dick... Not with anyone. You'll have to tell me how you like it."
Ethan's cock had already begun to swell again, thickening visibly against his thigh. "It's just like stroking yourself," he said softly. "Same motion."
Mark nodded, then reached over slowly with slight hesitation. For the first time, his large, warm hand wrapped fully around his son's cock. The moment his fingers closed around the thick shaft, Mark felt a strange jolt run through him.
"God, his cock is so warm," Mark thought.
The heat radiating from Ethan's cock surprised him -- heavy, alive, and pulsing gently in his palm. It felt fuller and thicker than he had expected. This was his son's cock. The realization hit him harder than he thought it would.
Mark started stroking slowly, his grip firm but careful, sliding his hand up and down the warm length. Ethan let out a shaky breath as blood rushed back into his shaft, hardening him completely in his father's hand.
"Fuck... Dad," Ethan moaned, his head tipping back against the headboard.
Mark kept the rhythm steady, watching his own hand move along the thick, veined shaft. Ethan was leaking heavily; clear, slick pre-cum already oozing from the slit and dripping down over Mark's fingers with every stroke.
Mark paused for a moment, "You're leaking a lot, son. What do you want me to do with it all?"
Ethan's voice came out breathy and desperate. "Use it as lube... and rub it over the head. Please."
Mark followed his instructions, using the abundant pre-cum to make his strokes smoother and slicker. He focused extra attention on the sensitive head, swirling his thumb around it on every upstroke, spreading the warm fluid in slow, deliberate circles.
Ethan moaned louder, his hips twitching. "Oh my god... I can't believe this is your first time. Fuck, Dad -- you're really good at this."
Mark let out a low chuckle, still stroking with focused, steady motions -- long, smooth pulls from base to head, twisting slightly at the top. "Just trying to take care of you, buddy."
The wet, slick sounds of Mark's hand gliding over Ethan's leaking cock filled the room. Ethan's breathing grew ragged, his moans turning deeper and more desperate as the pleasure built rapidly after so many days of frustration.
"Dad... I'm getting close," he gasped.
Mark kept the same perfect rhythm, never speeding up or slowing down. "Let it go, son. I've got you."
Ethan's body tensed. "Dad-- fuck-- I'm cumming!"
Thick, powerful ropes of cum erupted from his cock. The first shot landed high on his chest, followed by several more heavy stripes across his pectorals and stomach. Warm cum spilled over Mark's fingers as he continued stroking gently through the orgasm, milking every last pulse until Ethan was trembling and spent, panting hard against the headboard. Mark slowly released his son's softening cock. His hand was covered in cum.
"Jesus son... that was a big one. I can see why you needed it. Woah," Mark said with an impressed smile.
He looked around for a towel but didn't see one nearby. Without hesitation, he untied the towel from around his own waist, revealing his own thick, heavy cock -- now noticeably semi-hard -- and used the towel to carefully clean Ethan up. He wiped every trace from Ethan's chest, stomach, throat, cock, balls, and pubes with slow, thorough strokes, making sure nothing was left behind.
When he was finished, Mark set the used towel aside and helped Ethan into a fresh pair of loose mesh athletic shorts and a soft t-shirt, carefully maneuvering the fabric around his splints. Once Ethan was dressed, he looked over at his dad, voice soft and vulnerable.
"Can I... stay in here with you tonight?"Mark smiled gently and nodded.
"Of course you can. Come on, get comfortable."
He helped Ethan slide down under the covers, then climbed in beside him on the other side of the bed. Mark pulled the blanket up over both of them and rested a warm hand on Ethan's shoulder for a moment.
"I'm actually really happy I was able to help you tonight, son," Mark said quietly, his voice sincere. "I meant what I said -- I'm here for all of it."
Ethan let out a long, relieved breath, the intense pleasure still humming through his body. "Thanks, Dad... I love you."
"I love you too son, now get some sleep."
Mark turned on the TV at a low volume, the soft glow lighting the room. Ethan drifted off quickly, exhausted from the day and the powerful release. Mark stayed awake a while longer, occasionally glancing over at his sleeping son, his mind still quietly processing everything that had just happened.
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