"Ugh," Doug Frasier grunted to himself as he placed the weight bar on stand above his head. "Whew, that last set just about did me in."
"That was nearly 250 pounds, Dad; that'll add some more definition to your pecs," said his son Mark, who was standing behind the weights with his legs straddling both the bench and his father's head.
The older man looked upward from his prone position staring directly at his son's crotch which bulged against gray workout shorts. Doug considered the tube-shaped mold of the young man's cock, mentally comparing it with his own, before rising from the bench. "Well that does it for me today," he said. With the first movement from his father, the younger man moved his straddling leg to stand aside.
Doug retrieved a towel from the foot of the bench to begin wiping his naked muscular body, now covered in sweat from the workout. Wearing only a thin, ragged jock strap, the round shape of his balls and the prominent bulge of his cock were loosely confined within the pouch. Wiry brown pubic hairs peeked from the edges of the old jock, its shape stretched from years of washing and wearing. Turning to face his son he said, "Have you finished too?"
"Yeah, Dad, I've done enough for today." Mark Frasier, who at eighteen was Doug's only child, had begun retrieving several items left about the floor and returning them to their proper place in the small home gym. Wearing sweat stained gray gym shorts and a white t-shirt, Mark was clad more modestly than his father. Unlike his father, he wore no confining support underneath his shorts; therefore dark sweat spots only emphasized the prominent bulge along his leg.
On his way out of the room, the eldest of the pair paused to inspect himself in a full-length wall mirror. After some observation he began performing the well-practiced flexes and poses of body building competition. Like the competitor that he was, Doug's interest in his own body and its muscle groups was nearly obsessive.
Mark paused from his clean-up to watch as his father flexed his biceps and chest while he posed before the mirror. For reasons that he kept to himself, he secretly got pleasure from watching his father in moments like these.
Eventually Doug left the mirror and continued across the room to an adjoining bathroom with a washing machine and drier at one end and at the other an open shower. Stopping in the doorway, he watched as his son continued to move about the room. At eighteen the teenager was taller and leaner than his father.
Doug's attention was on the developing muscles of his son's body. He watched with a critical eye so that, even though he felt pride in his son, he still felt a flicker of envy at the boy's flesh and its unmistakable sheen of youth. After a minute, he turned from the doorway to strip off his jock strap and toss it into a hamper beside the washing machine. The gesture was finalized with a few tugs to loosen his ball sack and stretch his sizeable penis.
"Do you have school work tonight, Mark?" he asked, returning to stand in the doorway while unconsciously pulling on his foreskin, an old habit of his.
The younger man, long accustomed to seeing his father nude about their house, including seeing his penis in various states, turned and replied, "No Dad, I got everything finished in last period study hall." Mark was ending his last year of high school.
