Date: Sat, 17 Apr 2021 14:14:03 +0000 (UTC)
From: - - <mike.99999@yahoo.com>
Subject: Caught You, Caught Me

I caught my son jerking off. And then, a while later, he caught me. Let
me tell you about it.

He was in his late teens. I can't remember exactly when. He was becoming
a man, though, not a boy anymore. He had changed so quickly and fully
that I didn't really get a chance to get used to it. Suddenly he was as
tall as me and had this deep voice.

We had never really had "the talk." I never knew when to make it happen.
He always seemed to young to understand and then one day too old to need
anything explained. He never asked anything, and I never told him
anything or asked if he wanted to ask anything.

But I knew for sure that he was up to speed one day. It was a crisp,
clear Fall day sometime in October, I remember, because the leaves were a
big chore.

It was just him and me that day, which was unusual in such a crowded
house. He was supposed to be helping me with getting the leaves up. He
waved when he pulled up the driveway and said he was going to shower and
change clothes and would be right out to help.

I knew it would take a while, but what was taking so long? I got pissed.
I went in the back door and through the house and heard noises coming out
of my home office. I turned the corner and walked into my office and
yelled "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

There he was, buck naked, a wet towel next to him, sitting in my office
chair and beating his meat with all his might, looking at porn on my
computer.

I didn't know what to do. He saw me and jumped with surprise and shot a
load all over his chest and hand.

He was caught, totally embarrassed, stunned, and horrified. He tried to
turn around and hide and cover up. I immediately left the room and yelled
from the hallway him to get cleaned up and dressed and come to the
kitchen.

If I had known what he was really doing in there I NEVER would have
invaded his privacy like that, but he should've been smarter. And he had
my big bottle of hand lotion from the garage. I use it after scrubbing
the grease and oil off my hands. I knew there was a reason why it kept
disappearing.

I had to handle this situation in just the right way and, to be honest, I
was scared shitless. Probably even more scared than he was. This was the
time to step up and be a dad, the real adult in the room, the one who can
take a breath and steer the ship. I did not want to destroy my son's ego
or make sex even more confusing and embarrassing.

He came into the kitchen and would not even look at me. He was totally
embarassed, as anyone would have been.

"I'm sorry." I said it before he could. I told him I was sorry that it
happened to him, and I was sincere. I knew how he must have felt. He was
surprised and looked up at me.

I said, "We never talked about masturbation before, and now we're kind of
forced to."

"I'm not going to do it anymore," he said. That wasn't right. I felt even
worse.

"Look look at me, son. You're not going to stop. You shouldn't stop. You
should enjoy it. It's natural. I do it, all your buddies do it, your
grandpa did it, all men that ever existed did it. It's part of life, and
it feels fucking GREAT."

We both laughed a little, and I gave him a little hug. Then I told him
that there were a few things I was concerned about.

"If it was this embarrassing with ME catching you, what if it had been
someone else?" I told him to be smart about it. I told him to jerk off
MORE often, like get it out of the way when it's convenient, and to ask
me about anything anytime... "and stop stealing my lotion!"

We spent the afternoon talking about sex and porn and masturbation and
positions and orgasms, everything. Maybe too much, oversharing, but I
wanted him to be able to ask about anything and everything, without any
embarrassment. I wanted to bring up some porn and show him some, talk
about it together, but we kept it to just talking. He asked about stuff
that I had never heard of, and he felt good about that, that someone else
also didn't know.

It was at this point that I realized that I had a rock hard tenting
erection. I don't know if he saw it, but it was never mentioned.

Later that week, I had to go out of town a couple days on some business.
He picked me up at the airport and on the way home there is an Adult
Bookstore. I told him to pull into the parking lot. He was surprised. He
asked, "Are we were going in THERE?" I told him WE weren't. He wasn't old
enough yet.

I ran in for a few minutes and came back to the car with a big pump-top
bottle of real lube for his private use. He said I was the coolest dad
ever and gave me a big smile.

It turned out to be a very good thing for both of us. There was a special
bonding between us. He has mentioned it to me a couple times in the
passing years and told me how good I had handled it, how much he
appreciated me being "real" and treating him like a man. He said that it
really helped him get comfortable with stuff, better in relationships,
open and honest.

I always knew he was a great guy, but I was happy to hear that I helped
with something that can be a tough part of life. I wouldn't change a
thing about it all, even if I could.

Then, several years later, he was grown and moved out of the house and
working as a police officer, just as I had been. I was very proud of how
he turned out.

I was at the house by myself on a rainy Saturday afternoon. I had been
out in the garage, working on my bike, and I got bored being at home by
myself with nowhere to go and nothing special to do with myself. So I did
what I suppose most guys do when they're alone and get bored.

I went into the house and pulled up some porn on the laptop. After a
little while, I decided to have a good old fashioned jack off session.
I'm not talking about the quickie "rub one out and go on about your day"
type; this was the buck naked, laptop hooked up to the 60-inch TV, all
lubed up and making a day of it, that kind.

All of a sudden, the back door opened up and there stood my son. I didn't
even have time to move. There I sat midstroke all greased up. He stood
there, still in his uniform, holding a box of donuts that he brought over
a surprise. Well, he was the one who got the surprise.

He busted out laughing, turned right around, and zipped back into the
garage. I knew he'd be out there waiting for me, holding his sides,
laughing, and replaying the show in his mind. At least I didn't splooge
like he did.

I pulled on my clothes and washed my hands and went out there. He started
apologizing like crazy. He felt so bad, and we just had a good laugh
about.

He said, "Well, I guess we're even now, Dad." He gave me a pat on the
back. Again, I was still kind of hard and kind of showing it, but he
didn't stare or say anything if he noticed.

He said he would never come in unannounced like that again. He had
learned his lesson. We hung around and drank a couple beers and me just
visited for a while. He said he was going and that I could finish what he
had interrupted. We laughed together again and he went on his way and I
did then finish the job, taking my time with it, after locking the door.

After he left, I caught myself in the mirror, still pretty hard, and
wondered if he noticed. Then I wondered if maybe the whole thing got him
hard at all. I didn't notice if it did.

After that, every once in a while, one of us would make a joke about it
if we found out that the other was home alone or going to be, just
between the two of us.  "Well, maybe I could swing by with some donuts?"
he'd say, and everyone would wonder why we were laughing so much.

"Just an inside joke," I'd say. Neither of us told anybody else what
happened. It was just a funny thing that happened in the past, not a big
deal.

But then one day it changed.

"I'm here all alone for the whole weekend," he said over the phone. I
made a joke about it, that he'd break it off with a whole weekend to
himself.

"Yeah maybe... nice sunny weekend, I'll probably be out on the patio with
some lotion."

I said, "Oh, suntan lotion, I'm sure. Be sure you get it everywhere." His
house had a little walled-in private patio just off the dining room. We
had joked about him sunbathing out there without the neighbors not being
able to see.

He said, "I always get everywhere." I said I was sure he did. Then I
thought about how he always gets pizza from this one place that he likes.
I said that he'd be working up an appetite.

He didn't answer at first and then said,  "..maybe you'll swing by with
some donuts."

I didn't quite know what to say. "Well, I wouldn't want to uh, barge in
on you, son...  but I guess you'd hear me pull up and let myself in,  if
I did come over."

"Yeah well... there's nothing to be embarrassed about, right?"

I waited a second before saying, "No... it wouldn't be anything big, if I
saw anything. I guess we've both seen it anyway."

Then there was just silence. Our teasing and joking and laughing just
flatlined. Then he said, "Well... uh, I'll be here, so, I guess I'll talk
to you when I talk to you, Dad." And we both stammered over some
goodbyes, like how our phone conversations usually ended.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to do or what he wanted me to do if I wanted
to. I guess I could've done nothing and that would've been that. But I
thought about it, and I ended up driving over to my son's place and
pulling up the driveway and closing the door with a slam and jingling my
keys in the front door and letting myself in and hollering out for him
and walking through the house and ending up at the big sliding-glass door
at the back of his dining room that let out onto the patio, and I stood
there.

My son had sunglasses on, so I couldn't see if he could see me inside.
The door was shut between us but it was glass and sunny out. Maybe he
could only see his own reflection in the glass or just glare.

He was stretched out on a deck chair like you might see by a pool, with a
big towel under him, no shirt and a pretty fit physique; guys always look
more fit lying in their backs.

And his shorts were undone and slid down almost to his knees and no
underwear and hard with dick in hand, slowly stroking.

I had walked in on him. He was caught. But then I was there standing and
staring and about to get caught watching him, and I was standing in his
house, in his dark empty house, just standing there and watching. And I
had taken off all my clothes.

I couldn't tell if he was watching me. I couldn't see his eyes, and maybe
the sun glare from outside where he was sitting made me invisible there
inside in the dark, where I was holding my hard dick in my hand, pointing
it at him, slowly touching myself.

Maybe he could see me start to push my dick through my grip, holding my
hand in place instead of jerking, and flexing my ass and thighs to make
my dick slide through my palm. I was turned sideways, so if he did see
then he had a good angle.

When he started to roll his heavy balls through his other hand and
fingers, maybe he didn't see me do the same. That smile that formed on
his lips just then, I couldn't tell if it was because he was watching me
or just enjoying himself.

He had music playing out there too, so he probably didn't hear me start
to grunt. I do that without realizing it. It felt so good and so wrong
standing there totally naked and hard and jerking off like that and
watching him and maybe him seeing me too. It all felt wild and different
but okay, between us. And I thought I was about to come.

And then he started fumbling and going to cover up and turning off the
music, and he was looking off to one side.

"Sorry man, I was knocking out front, and I heard the music back here."
It was a delivery guy. He had a uniform with shorts and a hat and this
big box that he set down on the patio.

When my son jumped up, his shorts fell to his ankles. "Don't worry about
it, man, really. Just leave 'em." And then a big jet shot up and landed
on the patio floor, unable to be held back; perfect timing. "Fuck it man,
don't worry about me, I see crazy shit all the time."

My son was stumbling. And shaking his head. And embarrassed and laughing.
And the shorts were kicked off one ankle, and the towel was swept up and
wrapped around to cover up but only highlighting the rod underneath. The
delivery guy was saying that he'd be out there doing exactly that if he
had a place like this.

And then they both looked over directly at me, inside, naked, hard, belly
covered and coated, panting, and I smiled and waved.

The delivery guy waved back. Then he got a little electronic pad out and
clicked a button and had my son sign it, and then waved again at each of
us and jogged back out the side door.

We stood there, laughing. I slid the glass door open and stepped out.
"Hey Dad!"  "Oh Hey son!"  "How's it going?"  "Just fine, you?"  "Not too
bad. I can think of worse ways to spend the afternoon."

He said, "Let me show you the outdoor shower." He opened a wooden door,
and we stepped in and turned on the water and soaped up and got hard
again together and jerked off again together and then stretched out naked
in the sun to dry.