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Getting Caught

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I used to like reading the 'I got Caught' section of allaboutsex.org before they stopped updating it. I posted these to that site some time ago, but thought they'd be good here.
Message: I think that getting caught in the act, or at least the fear of it, is one of the dimensions of the life of a masturbator, a club which happily includes most people, though many may not admit it. I can remember one memorable night at Boy Scout summer camp when I was 14 when all 8 of us sat around telling stories of getting caught by parents, brothers and sisters, relatives, friends, and strangers.
I had two embarrassing tales to tell. The first had happened earlier that summer. I was in my bathing suit in my room ready to go to swim team practice, and had the urge to masturbate. Thinking my sister wasn't home (her room was across the hall from mine), I didn't close my door. Stupid. My mother never came upstairs, so I didn't worry about her walking in on me. I pulled my suit down to my ankles and mounted my pillow, and happily humped it, greatly enjoying the sensations in my groin. When I was about to cum, I sped up and humped harder, then it happened, and I slowed down and moved just a little as my semen coursed out onto my pillow, and as I always did, I rubbed my penis in the warm, wet mess. It felt really good to do that.
Just then I opened my eyes and saw my sister standing in the door, with an amazed look on her face. Out of reflex, I rolled off my pillow, but that of course made it worse, as I exposed my boner to her, dripping with fresh cum, as well as a nice big wet mess on my pillow. Time seemed to stand still as we looked at each other, then my sister just turned and left. She never said a word about it, but I was mortified for quite some time.
The other happened the summer before when our family was on vacation up in Maine. I used to explore some old gun emplacements overlooking the Kennebec River. It was a state park, but I seldom saw visitors up there, especially during the week. My normal routine included exploring, then finding a place in the sun out of sight of the paths, and stripping naked to lay in the sun and masturbate. Though humping my bed or pillow was my normal way of doing it, I of course had to use my hand in this situation.
So there I was, in all my glory, happily masturbating in a little clearing, using the Vaseline I had brought with me. Unfortunately the squish-squish of the Vaseline on my hand and penis attracted unwanted attention, and just as I was beginning to ejaculate I opened my eyes to see a park ranger standing about 5 feet away. It was too late to cover up, and as a matter of fact it was too late to stop ejaculating. I shot four or five more streams of cum while our eyes were locked on each other. I was gasping for breath, and the ranger said he was sorry, that he'd heard a noise and came to see what it was. He turned and left, and I cleaned up, feeling very foolish indeed. Needless to say I found places further into the woods for my future recreational activities.
I ran into that ranger a couple of times after that. He was OK with it all; he'd just say hello and inquire about how I was doing, and I'd give him a sheepish smile. The one time he said more was once when I met him outside. He said I shouldn't be embarrassed about what had happened, that a lot of boys masturbate in the woods, and that he did it too.
I didn't relate the time when my friend walked in on me in the garage (see my post titled 'My Bicycle, of all things') since they all knew him and I didn't want there to be any chance of them finding out what he and I had done together afterwards.



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