Die neue Serie Personal Art orientiert sich am Kunden. In einer Mischung aus Malerei und Computergrafik entstehen aus Bildern, Fotos und Kunstschriften Personal Artworks, die sich - in Herrmanns typischem Stil und neuer Technik - direkt an den Wünschen des Kunden orientieren. Format, Größe, Farbe, Inhalte und Texte werden mit dem Kunden exakt besprochen. Unstimmigkeiten werden anhand eines ersten Entwurfes ausgeräumt. So erhält der Kunde das Kunstwerk seiner ersten Wahl.
“What are you now, son?”
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He does not answer but tilts his head down in an almost subservient nature to his father.
“What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.
“What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.
Garrett can see what his father is doing, unconsciously his hands moves to his cock. He strokes the length of his tool with his left hand while he teases the blistering red crown with the fingertips of his right hand. The lightning of his cool fingertips sends sparks through every nerve in his body.
“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.” 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.
“What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad. He is unfazed by the presence of his dad despite his nakedness inside the hot spray of the shower.
“But you didn’t though, did you, son?” All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.
“I knew ya couldn’t keep your hands off it.” His dad says. “Men can’t do it, we are drawn to our cocks, like a moth to a flame, and usually that burning sensation that a man feels is the cum boiling up in our balls. You know that feelin’ doncha son?” His son bucks on the lid as he turns beet red from his carnal machinations.
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