Date: Sun, 4 Oct 2015 05:04:40 +0000 (UTC) From: Neil Entib Subject: Accidentally Caught on Purpose I should have known it would happen eventually. It's one of those things where you have a routine, you do it most every night, and sometime during you think you should really lock the door or something or one of these days you'll get caught. Like speeding without a radar detector, knowing there could be a cop under this bridge or the next, but you don't let off the gas. And then you see him, and it's too late. By the time I saw Teddy it was too late. Much too late for any of your typical dad-on-the-computer-late-at-night excuses. So I just opened up to him, and I guess he opened up to me too. * Don't get me wrong; my wife and I have a better sex life than most married couples. Claire knows my buttons and I know hers, and we do a pretty good job of pushing most of them. Buuuuut, there's that whole bisexual bugaboo of mine. Yes, I'm yet another one of those husbands and fathers on here who surfs gay porn when his wife goes to bed or goes shopping or leaves the room...anyway, anyone will tell you there's nothing quite like your own hand to milk out a quick load, or to edge for the better part of an hour before you have to kick the laptop to the side so you don't short it out with your sperm. Unlike a lot of the stories on here, I don't secretly go out to the toilets or truck stops cruising for dick. I've had a few brushes with bugs in my time and it's just not worth the hassle to me, especially when there's a chance I could pass it on to my wife. Then it's game over completely. I know some of you are yelling at your screens, "What about pegging?" Well, yeah, there's that delightful feeling of being spread open and plowed, but if I can't get some cum up my hole or reach back to feel a big pair of balls slapping mine from behind, it just doesn't do it for me. I was in my typical family-friendly bedtime attire: boxers and a plain gray t-shirt. Nothing special, just the outfit that keeps me presentable in front of the kids and hides my junk enough to keep it Cleaver-clean around the house. Apparently they don't do as good a job as I'd thought, from what Teddy told me. But more on that later. This night was a particularly evil night for me, libido-wise. Claire knows I tend to skew a bit toward the night-owl side, so when I rolled out of bed ten minutes after plowing a good load into her she wasn't offended. In fact, she didn't even wake up all the way, which was probably why I missed locking the office door that night. After walking into the room with a semi-hard flopping around, I plopped down into my trusty Aeron chair (ugly as sin but so fucking comfortable) and brought up a couple of my favorite Tumblr blogs. I don't really discriminate among the types of men I like. Some days I'm in the mood for smooth twinks, sometimes all I want is a big fat daddy-type with an inch of foreskin hanging off his dripping tip. Tonight was one of those burly-and-rough nights, and after less than a minute I was hard and idly stroking. I wanted to make it last, and having recently relieved myself into my wife helped that along. I scrolled down this never-ending list of hairy, masculine men, a pretty even split between cut and uncut, all of them aesthetically pleasing, all of them photogenic. Every once in a while I would thumb down the bead of pre from my piss slit under the head and tease there, a sort of edging without really meaning it. Usually after fifteen minutes of this I wouldn't be able to stand it anymore and just go all-out, blowing all over my shorts and belly if I could get my shirt up in time. Then I came across a Vine someone had posted. It was short but sweet, and sent my heart into my throat: shot from below, this sasquatch of a man was skinning back his hood over a mostly-hard cock, and toward the end he begins to come. Not your regular type of come either; his face didn't change or anything but his load just started gushing down toward the camera, as if someone had turned on a slow tap. No shooting, no dribbling, just this nice copious stream of jizz. I could practically feel that foreskin sliding effortlessly along inside my ass as it deposited that wonderful load. It was one of those vids that make you want to go out and bend over for the first Craigslist top you can find. It was as I was preparing for the final push that I saw his reflection in the light from my screen, just by happenstance and a lot of luck. There's a family portrait that sits on my desk to the right of me, standard glass and thus very reflective. It actually appeared as if the Teddy in the picture was moving, and that's what caught my eye. But when I focused further afield it was the real Teddy I saw. From his mop of dirty blond hair (yes, I know all the kids in stories have dirty blond hair, but I'm not changing my kid's physicality for the sake of originality) to about mid-knee. A dark A-shirt over his baby fat, and white briefs. He hasn't yet graduated out of that stage, but I sense he's close. And he had his right hand shoved deep down in there, squeezing and pulling. I knew my head was blocking his view of the screen, so he was masturbating to my masturbation. My feeling of being caught was quickly superseded by the pure hotness of my son getting off on watching me. I told you, I was in one of those moods. "Teddy." It was a concrete statement that told him in no uncertain terms that he'd been caught and now we were going to have a Confrontation. We hadn't had many Confrontations, but usually they didn't go down well. I'm not the type of father to yell, but I can infuse my voice with enough venom to put down a bull elephant. Except this time I had a boner. I saw him start to yank his hand away, think better of the impending snap of elastic on his junk, and then back slowly through the door. A valiant attempt, but futile. "Theodore James, come here." Still I didn't turn around, because I could see him quite clearly in the picture frame. "And lock that door behind you." I wasn't as concerned about Claire as I was about Frankie, his ten-year-old little brother. Teddy I could likely trust to keep a "guy conversation" between us guys, but Frankie might go straight to his mother with the wrong information. It's kind of sad when you're afraid a frank sexual conversation with your sons might come back to haunt you. This day and age, it's so hard to parent. My cock had flagged slightly in my left hand, but now it was plumping up again. If he'd been able to see the screen, and it had been straight porn, I might have taken a different tack, but his actions communicated only one thing: either he was gay, or at least bi, or curious, or he was too full of raging hormones to care much about it as long as it felt sexy. That was what I intended to find out, and the mere thought raged my own hormones. I heard the click of the push-button knob. Light and shadow shifted over his round young body as he slowly padded the short distance from the door to my chair. I kept my legs spread, thumb and forefinger on the base of my shaft, unafraid and unashamed. Teddy's thirteen (and a half), he's no doubt seen dicks in the locker room, but probably not a man's and definitely not mine. Our house is configured in such a way that it's simply not possible, sorry guys. The last few steps I heard as the carpet softly scrunched under his bare feet, and when I sensed him behind me he let out a gasp under his breath. I knew he could see my just-over-six inches jutting obscenely from the fly of my boxers. I stared ahead until his hip appeared in my peripheral vision, giving him an eyeful. When I looked up at him, his eyes quickly darted up, then to my computer screen, then up again. He was covering his crotch with both hands, looking every bit the awkward teenager. "Well?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. For all he knew, that could mean "What do you have to say for yourself" or "What do you think of your old man's dick?" Or both. He decided to go the relatively safe route of keeping quiet so I could fill him in on just what I was thinking. He did give one of those characteristic shrugs kids like to do. "That door was closed for a reason." I gave myself a couple of strokes to keep fluffed. "I know," he mumbled, then looked at me. At my eyes, this time. "But it wasn't locked." "What difference does that make? You know better. I shouldn't have to talk to you like I talk to Frankie." He bristled at that, and I couldn't keep up the "mad dad" thing forever, not with my cock out like that. It compromised me a bit as an authority figure, so I thought going the "pal" route might work out better. Besides, the whole situation still had me horned up. It's not every day one of those hundreds of Nifty stories you read starts hitting so close to home. Teddy sighed. His lower lip trembled, not enough to start a cry but enough so that I could tell he was upset and likely embarrassed. He'd grown a few inches in the past year and he still didn't know how to handle the proportions. "Okay. Could you at least tell me why you opened the door? And don't try to bullshit a bullshitter. There are only so many reasons why, and I already know them all." He looked like all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and disappear out of existence. "You see what's on the screen." His eyes flicked again. "You respect me by telling me your truth, and I'll respect you by doing the same." I watched his face carefully. Sometimes, especially since he'd started puberty, the kid could be hard to read. When he appeared indifferent he was pissed, when he appeared relaxed he was worried. You could never tell what was going on in his testosterone-addled head. Teddy's eyes alighted on my dick slightly longer this time; he'd figured out that since I wasn't making a move to hide myself it was kinda-sorta okay to look. But then he switched to the Vine on the monitor, the reflection of that drooling dick distorted by the curve of his eyes. He squeezed himself through his underwear. He bit his lip. He sighed. "I dunno." "You can do better than that." He sighed again, this time more ragged. He really was on the verge of tears. "Promise you won't be mad?" Oh great, I thought. The last time he said that was after he tried to wash his tennis shoes in the machine and got rubber streaks all over the drum. "I can't promise a hundred percent, but I'll try." That seemed to satisfy him enough to drop his hands to his sides and lose most of the tension in his shoulders. I couldn't help a quick peek; he was a good size--four, maybe a shade more--and his balls had pulled ahead in the development department. Teddy spoke in a small, quiet voice. "I couldn't help it, Dad. It's like, every night after everybody goes to sleep, I can't get these thoughts out of my head." "Sexy thoughts?" "Yeah." "I know, right? Tell me about it." It was just an expression of empathy, but he took it seriously. "Really?" His dick twitched. I hadn't realized my son would open up so readily to me. Instead of giving him The Talk when he turned eleven I'd merely bought a book and left it on his pillow with a note to come to me if he had any questions. He hadn't, so I'd assumed he either knew it all or the book had explained everything to his satisfaction. I pretended not to be eager to listen. "Only if you want to. They're your thoughts. I did the same thing when I was your age." God, I felt old saying those words. "Thinking about boobs. Or pussy." I paused for emphasis, waving to the screen. "Or dick," I said, shrugging my No Big Deal shrug. "Not gonna deny it now." "It's just...everything," he explained. "It's hard to concentrate in school." "Do you take breaks in the restroom?" I asked, emboldened. The idea of my son rubbing one or two out in the stall at his middle school was pretty appealing. Teddy was blushing, but less rigid in his posture. "Usually once. Sometimes twice. It helps." "I can imagine. I do that at work." "I wondered, hehe." A smile cracked his lips, surprising me by his lack of incredulity. See, not everything I'm telling is Nifty-perfect. I smiled back, putting him further at ease. "So...that all sounds normal and healthy. Horny thoughts, constant boners, jerking off. And you were too curious about my closed door to help yourself. Trying to catch me in the act?" "No!" Teddy exclaimed, as loud as he dared with his brother and mother asleep. "I mean...at first I kinda knew what you were doing, and I wanted to see what kind of porn you had so I could maybe look later. But, uh, then I saw you and I got distracted." "You don't have to lie to me," I reassured him, continuing in a 1950s PSA voice. "It's perfectly natural for a boy to be curious about his own father." "I'm not, I swear. Okay, I wasn't. But..." He stuck out his arms, indicating my erection. I waggled it. "Yeah, you got me. It's not always about pussy. Even in straight porn, most guys are still watching the dick more than the vagina." "Yeah," Teddy agreed. "I know I do." Leaning back in the chair, I groaned as the tension in my back evened out. I let go of my dick and allowed it to stand on its own, arcing lazily over my left thigh. "So now, where do we go from here? You're not in trouble because I should've locked the door, let's get that out of the way." "Thanks," my son said, relieved. His brows furrowed. "Whaddya mean, where do we go? I guess I go back to my room." "You could, I suppose," I said, taking care to choose my words carefully. "But since we're both in compromising positions here...and your mom and brother are sleeping...can I count on you to give me an honest answer to a question, man to man?" He seemed to puff up at that, as I thought he would. Our relationship is normal, I'd say, with the typical dynamic but no acrimony or romance. Let's just say I've neither thrown a Bible in his face nor let him cavort around the house naked when Claire went shopping. But he liked being called a man. "Yeah. At least, I hope so." "You also need to know how serious this is. Just us being in this room like this. This is not normal." "I'm not saying shit to anybody, Dad. I'm just glad I'm not grounded." I smiled. "Alright then. So, give me a straight answer: do you like looking at this stuff?" This time he didn't blush. "Oh yeah." "The guy-on-guy stuff?" "Mhm." "Do you like looking at me, then?" Teddy instantly transformed into a deer in headlights. I kept my arms at my sides in what I hoped was the least intimidating posture I could adopt. When I dropped my gaze to his briefs, he was so hard the hems were pulling up from his thighs. They hadn't been before. I could clearly see the curved line of his corona. I started swelling up again. "Come on, son. It's just a question. I'm not gonna get mad, I'm not gonna get anything. I just want honesty." His eyes vibrated minutely, like they sometimes do in those anime shows. (I may be a father, but I was still born in 1976 and I had my favorites) I watched his belly rise and fall, the little flabby shelf over the waistband of his undies jiggling. And, without looking at my face but staring at my cock, he nodded slowly. "Oh yeah. I've never seen an adult before. Sometimes I wondered what you looked like." "See? That wasn't so hard. I've wondered the same about you from time to time. Not in a sexual way, but a dad is curious to see if his kid's developing well." I paused to twitch my cock a little. "And since we're already here...would you be up for, uh, messing around?" My son's lips drew into an "O" of surprise, his eyes wide. "I mean, it'd be cooler than you going back to your room to jerk off and me finishing off in here. Wouldn't it?" "Fuck yeah, it would," he swore. "Am I dreaming?" I chuckled. "Feels like it, doesn't it?" "Yeah." "Now, I'm not going to talk about anyone being gay or bi or whatever here. That's not the point. We're a couple of horny guys looking to get our rocks off. And to boot, we're curious about each other. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, and most of all I don't want this changing everything else about us. Just because I suck your dick or something doesn't mean I can't take away your PlayStation when you deserve it." Teddy was nodding, but I got the feeling he was struggling to take it all in. "Okay." "Okay. So, how do you want to start?" Clearly he wasn't used to having so much decision-making power. Normally he was the semi-shy husky kid who liked to bowl and swim but not enough to burn off all the baby fat. He gave a shrug. Obviously it was up to me to drive the action, at least until I got him calmed down enough to take charge. I lifted my butt and slid my boxers down and off, tossing them carelessly behind the chair. "How's that for starters?" His face scrunched up in a rare moment of seriousness. "Why are you doing this? Are you high right now?" Inside I was laughing my ass off. Outside I forced my face into Grave Dad mode. "How would you know?" He stiffened. "We can talk about that after, if you still feel like being honest with me. I'm just being pragmatic about the situation. So...you gonna lose the whities, or what?" I could see the war going on behind his eyes. I could just imagine it: the teenage awkwardness of being up close and personal with his old man, exposing himself in front of a guy whose cock dwarfed his...and the unbelievable hotness of getting to do something very few teenagers get to do, something many teens fantasize about before they either move on to girlfriends or boyfriends. The seed of doubt was there, a minute kernel but a kernel nonetheless. His pupils dilated. His nostrils flared. And, carefully, he hooked his fingers into his waistband and took them off one leg at a time. Now, I'm no aficionado of teen dick, and what you read about in the stories is these thin twigs of boys, but my son is husky, like I said. Not like one of those big boys you see at the waterpark with the moobs and inverted nipples...more like a bit of extra padding up front and back, about an extra fifteen pounds. Clothing hides it pretty well, and he doesn't get teased for it. But seeing his healthy four inches twitching stiffly with only a few sparse hairs suspended above the base of his shaft, straight out with just a hint of an upward angle, made my mouth start to water. "Sorry it's not big yet," he said, and I was taken aback. "Do I look like I care, Teddy? Just because I'm looking at porn of big dicks doesn't mean they're the be-all and end-all. Dicks are cool, period. And yours is awesome, because you're my son and I love you." He took great solace in my smile. "Now tell me what you wanna do, so I don't feel like a total pervert here." He giggled and licked his lips. "Well, uh...I guess we could start out with, um, touching or something." I swiveled slightly to face him, swiping my hand over my keyboard to blacken the screen. "I don't think we're gonna need that to help. Here, get between my legs." I spread my knees wide so he could shuffle up close, and his cock ended up at perfect blowjob level. Now that was a good thought. But I had to be the responsible adult and go at his pace. I had more than a couple of decades of experience on him. "Is this your first time for all this?" I asked. "Yeah. Well, not exactly," he breathed. "Tell me," I said as his taut cut head bobbed inches from my face. It was all I could do not to go down on him. Like a conspirator, he muttered, "I tried a couple of times to get Frankie to touch it. I wanted him to real bad, but he thought I was being gross. He tugged on it a little but stopped." I nodded. That was unspeakably hot. Thoughts of getting my other son to join in were almost too much to bear. Seeing the developmental difference between the two of them would be an exercise in fun for an evening, if not more. "That was a good decision not to force him. That took a lot of self-control. He might come around in time, if you don't pressure him." I finished off by placing my left hand on his side, the flesh giving way gently under my fingertips. Teddy began to tremble. "Other than that, nobody else?" "Nuh-uh," he replied. "Alright then. You'll probably enjoy this." I brought my right hand up and placed my thumb and forefinger on his pubis, enough to press in and add a half-inch to his shaft but not yet touching any sensitive parts. He gasped, looking down as I rubbed right next to his dick with my thumb. "You ready?" "I h-hope so." That was as close to permission as I could get, so I moved my hand and grasped it around his member. My four fingers covered it entirely, with no room for my thumb. I didn't need it, though, so I wrapped it around to make a fist. Teddy's legs quivered; he supported himself on my desk with an outstretched arm. I knew he was watching every move I made, but I wanted to watch his junk more. "That, is a very nice hardon, son," I said, beginning to stroke it just enough to move the skin around. Already I could see his balls threatening to retreat up into his body. "You look like you're close." "I dunno," he panted. "It just feels really awesome. Maybe." "Well, don't hold back on my account. You look worked up enough to go a few rounds." "Holy shit, Dad..." "Just don't tell your Scout friends about this. I might have a line out the tent door next camping trip." I smiled and looked up at him, and he seemed to be hanging on my every word. Puberty was written all over his face, from the ghosts of upper-lip hair to the half-developed Adam's apple. Bringing my other hand up to his balls, I took the tight skin and pulled a bit to keep his nuts from climbing any further. Teddy sighed but drew in a strained breath. His cock spasmed in my hand. No pre, though, at least not at this stage in his life. He did this every eight seconds or so, the only breathing he was doing. I did that a lot in my teens while masturbating furiously. I used to think it took a Herculean effort to bring myself off, but after I'd perfected my technique I could shoot in under forty seconds. "If you wanna touch me, you can," I reminded him. "I don't know," he whispered breathily. "I might fall over." Even so, I saw his fingers cautiously leave the edge of the desk and head toward my erection. I kept up my even pace, moving my elbow out of the way to give him access. His breathing quickened the closer he got. "First dick you've ever touched besides your own?" "Yes," he whimpered. "Oh, fuck." He was three inches away, and closing. "I'm glad I was able to be your first, Teddy. I'm gonna try to make it memorable." "Oh yeah. Oh my god." And, with that erudite statement, his fingers alighted on my spongy cockhead and spread as he palmed my shaft. "Oh my god!" His balls jerked upward, and I knew I'd set off some chain reaction. "Go on. Blow it all over me. I'll just put it in the hamper. I don't care where it goes." To emphasize my point, I lightened my grip and started to jerk more than stroke. His body went rigid and he pinched my dick, unable to do much else. It was more painful than I cared for, but watching him fall victim to orgasm trumped any discomfort. "I'm touching your dick," he moaned softly in between ragged sighs. "Holy crap...holy crap...I'm gonna cum...I can't...oh my god." "Just be quiet and let 'er rip wherever you want. It cleans up." I focused just on his glans, just under the corona, and he let out an airy moan that didn't let up. "Fuck...fuckfuckfuck...nnngghhhh...ohhhhhhmyyyyyg..." The rest dissolved into a cracking, pubescent whine. I forced my attention away from the painful pleasure on my cock and focused on maximizing his climax. He fell silent for a few seconds before letting out a puff above my head at the same time a small dribble ran over my thumb, followed immediately by a humongous rope of watery cum that managed to hit my chin with an audible smack. Each shot was punctuated by a staccato grunt, and I counted five before he slowed to a trickle, having soaked my shirt, genitals and the exposed seat of the chair between my legs. Keeping my pace steady and light, I kept encouraging him throughout. "There you go. What a shooter...that's quite a load, son." I, myself, wasn't sure how he'd react to what words, so I put myself in his shoes and tried to tell him things I would've liked my dad to say back in the day. I managed to get a quick lick of his cum off my lower lip, and it tasted especially sweet. Only after he settled down completely did I relinquish my hold on him. Giving him a prideful look, I released his balls and patted one thigh. "So, was that awesome or what?" Teddy's hand replaced mine, squeezing his still-hard dick. "Uh...yeah!" he giggled, all traces of his prior hesitation gone. "It is pretty awesome, yeah," I agreed before turning my attention downward. Teddy had let go of my cock during his climax, but it still stood at proud attention with one nice line of seed along one side. He was looking where I was looking. "So, you wanna help your old man out?" He dropped his eyes in serious ponder. "No pressure if you don't. I said before, I'm not gonna hold it against you if you don't. I can take care of myself." "Nah," he shrugged with typical teenage ambivalence, "I wanna touch it some more anyway." I felt myself throb anew. "Cool." I leaned back, lacing my fingers behind my neck, proudly on display. "I want you to jerk me off using your cum." "Oh man, that's nasty." "I believe you mean 'kinky,'" I corrected. "It's certainly not gross. Just scoop it up and stick it on my dick." Distracted as I'd been about making my son feel good, I hadn't much been concentrating on my own sensations. But giving Teddy the reins suddenly made me super-aware of just what was going on here. I couldn't deny it was pretty heavy stuff, jerking off my son in the den and having him use his cum as lube to jerk me off after. I mean, truth is stranger than fiction, and sometimes it's much, much hotter. Teddy started with my shirt, gathering the bigger globs and depositing each one onto my glans, followed by the stuff on my crotch and then the leftover from his cock. I swiped my hand on my shaft to get the last of it, and then he took in another slow, careful breath. "Here I go." "Do it." And do it he did. He smeared that seed all around and slid it down to the base of my dick like a pro, driven by his post-orgasm high. At his age, he didn't need to bend over much to optimize the motion, and his fingers, as yet unsullied by a lifetime of labor, were smooth and warm. "Oh, my God that feels good." The exquisite slickness was a first for me, even softer than my wife's delicate fingers. I think it was because Teddy's hands were still small, and the sensations they provided much different. My son's cock wilted as he focused on me, but I kept my eyes on it in case he came to his senses and never wanted a sequel. I just needed to remember that organ, sear it into my mind. "Am I doing it right, Dad?" he asked. Oh man, this kid just kept getting cuter and cuter. What a button-pusher. "You're perfect, Teddy. You can keep doing it just like that, but don't speed up or change anything when I come, okay?" "Yeah." There isn't much more to say about the intervening minutes, other than we spent them in silence while I alternately closed my eyes and watched his ministrations on my swelling shaft. Usually with such a languid session I would save the noise for the end, bellowing out my release when no one was home, but instead I just sighed and breathed and panted the closer I got. "Oh, yeah, here it comes." "Okay." Obedient boy that he is, he dutifully kept the pace and grip throughout the whole thing, and it was the realization of being vulnerable and giving up myself and my body to my son that did me in. Gripping my armrests with trembling hands, my head thrashed about while I erupted all over myself and his hand. Once again, my chin became a target, the rest soaking into my shirt or coating my pubis. "Fuckin' awesome," he murmured, creating wonderful wet squelching sounds with my load. "I can't believe I just jerked off my dad." I took off my shirt to clean up, handing it to him for his hand. "You can take that to your room if you want to sniff it," I said, realizing he might not be into that a little too late. "Nah, it's okay." "Okay." I stood and pulled on my underwear, and Teddy followed suit. Mildly awkward silence, but nothing horrible. "I don't need to repeat myself regarding what leaves this room, do I?" Teddy scoffed, totally acting thirteen. "Yeah, right. I'll ask my friends if they want a handy from my dad, and they'll be all cool about it." "You never know," I said. "No, I'm not telling anyone, God." He was already dressed, but just hanging around. I could tell he had some thinking to do and some things to sort out in his head once he got back to his room. So I stood up and hugged him to me, my semi-chubbed cock against his chest. And I kissed him on the lips, perhaps just a moment too long to be chaste, and tilted up his chin. "Don't overthink this, Teddy, okay? Guys help each other out, and I want you to know I'd gladly do it again. Don't ever think you can't come to me about anything, and that includes if you're horny and your own hand won't do. I almost wish you'd caught me a few years ago." He looked away, blushing. "You're weird, Dad." "You knew this already. Deal with it." "Okay," he said, and paused. "Thanks for not getting mad about earlier. And, uh, for the other stuff too." "Thank you for trusting me. And for returning the favor. Anytime you want to or need to, I'm here. It's just an orgasm." He finally seemed to understand, and I sent him on his way, quietly. After clearing my browser history I gathered my things and padded back to my marital bed to cuddle up to my wife. She was receptive, and despite my session with Teddy, I gave her the rest of the sperm my son hadn't already milked out. Only, when I was breeding her, it wasn't her snatch I was fucking. It was Teddy. I guy can dream, can't he?