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caught-you-caught-me

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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 şişli travesti 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. beylikdüzü travesti 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, istanbul travesti 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.

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