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Surprised by Dad

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This is a true story that happened when I was 18, a senior in high school. One spring afternoon I had gotten home from school and as usual had the house to myself. I grabbed something to eat and went upstairs to check on email on my computer in my room. After going through my messages, my mind started wandering toward thoughts of sex, typical of guys at that age. I googled a few porn sites and began enjoying myself. It wasn't long before I was tugging away at my growing member. I took off my shirt and caressed my nearly hairless chest, lightly circling and teasing the nipples. This always gets me rock hard. My engorged cock was busting the seams of my jeans. Slipping them and my boxers off, my rigid prick bounced back with a slap against my abdomen, the deep purple mushroom head pointing straight up my treasure trail and navel. I took my time in slowly stroking the hard shaft, stopping at the head to circle the rim, then back down to the base and the thatch of black curly pubes. The other hand gently juggled my jewels in their hairy sac. I was thoroughly enjoying my self-exploration! When jacking off I prefer to use some kind of lubrication. I got up naked and walked out my room to the bathroom, my erection in a slight upward curve, parallel to my stomach. I grabbed a bottle of lotion and came back to my room. On the way in I lightly kicked the door to close it, but it remained half open. By the time I noticed it, I was lying on the bed, too engrossed in my self-pleasure to care. Besides, I still had a couple hours of liberty before my parents got home from work…..or so I thought. I should tell you my room was set up in a way where the dresser and a large mirror were positioned at the foot of the bed. This gave many memorable hours of watching me experiment with various masturbation techniques during my youth. From this angle I could also see the door to my room without turning my head. If the door was open I could clearly see down the hallway and anyone walking there before they entered my room, allowing just enough time to zip up or cover up and store those porn magazines without getting caught. Back to the story. I was buck naked, lying on my back on the bed, lubricated hands working over my balls and blood engorged cock, slowly taking me to that pleasure peak and point of no return. I was varying the speeds of stroking, sometimes rapid, sometimes slow, often stopping to just rub the sensitive head while the other hand gently played with my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I was really getting into this! I had been glancing off and on at myself in the mirror until out of the corner of my eye something –- no, someone -- surprised and stunned me. There in the hall, but just outside in the shadow of the half-open door was my dad watching me! He had gotten off work early and come home. I was stunned I had been literally caught red-handed jacking off, but what surprised me even more was dad tugging at the obvious tent in his suit trousers. I stopped momentarily, anticipating some kind of comment or action. None came. His eyes were glued to my hard on and pubic region. I got the impression he didn't realize I noticed him, standing in the shadows as he was. Call me a bold exhibitionist, but I was curious as to what would happen next. I started stroking my dick again. I didn't want him to know I was watching him watching me, so I closed my eyes to narrow slits, just enough so that it would appear my eyes were shut, but open enough for me to see what was going on. As if no one was there, I continued my jacking off variations just as before, building that pleasurable tension, my balls bouncing around, then slowing to start again. I was softly moaning and groaning to the manual gratification. My cock was harder than it had ever been. I spread my bent legs wider giving a clearer view. I pulled at my sac, juggled my nuts. Occasionally I would massage the perineum between my legs and behind the scrotum. I don’t know why, but this drives me wild! Precum was oozing out of my prick slit and mixing with the lotion, making that familiar slurping sound as I was sliding up and down the veiny shaft. Dad must have been enjoying the show. His own erection was straining hard against its confines, a circular wet stain of precum soaking through. Then dad did something I would have thought unbelievable if I hadn't witnessed it: he unzipped his suit pants, struggled to pull his rigid member out through the fly of his boxers, and started stroking his cock. Let me add here that at this point in time my dad was rather fit for middle age. His body was nothing to be ashamed of, much better than any of his friends. His stomach was flat, chest firm, a full head of dark brown hair graying at the temples and piercing blue eyes. Our family was not overly modest, so we had seen one another naked before. Dad is not circumcised, but for some unknown reason I am. It made for an interesting, unspoken comparison if we were in the shower together at the club or skinny dipping when camping. In his struggles, he had stepped forward enough so that more light from the room was on him giving me a better view. I was fascinated as he pulled his foreskin back revealing the sticky, glistening head, then pushed the sheath up and over to conceal it like a playful game of hide and seek. When precum would gather at the tip of his foreskin he would squeeze it out like a tube of toothpaste or pull the skin back completely, then slick up his cock and continue his fist humping. A couple times he licked the clear, sticky fluid from his palm and fingers. Again I was taken aback. Doing this never occurred to me and it made me curious as to what my own precum/jizz tasted like. It wasn't long before he reached back inside his boxers, pulling out his low-hanging, pendulous testicles. They jostled around in midair as he persisted to wank off. All of this was blowing my mind. I had fantasized about jacking off with friends, but never followed through. Now here I was jacking off indirectly with my dad! It was quickly bringing me to the edge. My actions became more relentless, right hand flying up and down my stiff prick. Pelvic muscles tensed as they readied for the inevitable release. I arched my back and let out a deep guttural groan of pleasure as I shot a couple ropes of cum onto the headboard and several more pools of creamy tapioca onto my chest and stomach. It was the most intense orgasm I ever experienced, lasting what felt like several minutes. I was breathless. A thin layer of sweat covered me from head to toe. As I was basking in the afterglow and catching my breath, I discreetly eyed my dad. He was close to going over the edge. His head was tilted back a little, eyes closed, right hand racing up and down his shaft, his left hand firmly gripping the base of his cock and scrotum. His hips had a slight humping rhythm. Suddenly, he took his left hand and threw his tie out of the way over his shoulder. When he let out a slight groan and his knees started to buckle, he quickly placed the same hand at the front of his cock to catch the pearly jets of cum. Some of his goo dribbled to the floor. He didn't stand there long before turning quietly around, cock and cum in hand, disappearing down the hall to his room. I laid there thinking how bizarre, but excitingly erotic this had been. How many guys jack off with their dad? I grabbed the T-shirt I had taken off to clean myself up and wipe the mess from the headboard. As I was getting dressed, I remembered my dad licking his fingers with his precum. I walked over to where my dad had shot his load, looking for the surplus of cum that had dribbled to the floor through his fingers. I placed my fingers in the wet spots and brought them first to my nose for a sniff, then to my tongue for a taste. This was the very essence from which I was conceived. Not as offensive as I had thought. I later learned to enjoy the taste of my own cum. This was a one time event. Dad and I never hinted at what happened that afternoon, although I have a sneaking suspicion he knew I was aware he was watching me. Regardless, I do believe it was an unspoken bond that brought us very close until his death years later. Thanks dad!

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