Date: Sun, 4 Oct 2015 05:04:40 +0000 (UTC)
From: Neil Entib <nifty_ntib@yahoo.com>
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?