I caught my Dad jerking off his straight friend. (True story)
(Everyone over 18)
Mr. D is Dad's best friend since high school. As I was growing up, he came over quite a bit. They would drink beer, watch sports, and just kick back. He's one of those that became household furniture! That's how familiar we've gotten with him.
This one night, my Mom was on vacation with her side of the family, an annual tradition to pay homage to ancestor's graves. My sister went with her, and it was just me, Dad, and Mr. D.
I'm normally a very deep sleeper. Mr. D used to joke that the house could collapse and I would sleep through it. It's true. One time, there was a severe thunderstorm, national emergency, and our house luckily escaped the tornado route but houses down the street got torn up. I slept through the whole thing!
Dad and Mr. D watched soccer like usual. I was having a light fever, so I excused myself early, took some NyQuil, and went to bed. I remember Dad making the joke: "He already sleeps like dead wood without NyQuil, can you imagine with it?" As my door shut loudly, I think they expected me to be out till next week!
By pure accident, I took DayQuil in a hurry. My neurons were firing all over the place. Restless, I walked befogged to the staircase (my bedroom on the second floor) to get some food from downstairs. That's when I heard moaning. It was Mr. D.
"Oh fuck yeah, tighter."
Through the spiral staircase, I got a distant glimpse of them in the living room as that was where the stair was located.
Mr. D, half-reclined over the brown leather La-Z-Boy, my Dad kneeling on the carpet floor, right hand jerking Mr. D's cock, and left hand massaging his balls and hole. I stood paralyzed, unable to process the wild scene below me.
I couldn't see my Dad's face as he had his back to the stair. But I could clearly see Mr. D's trembling body, his closed eyes in ecstasy, his rugged, basketball player's body. He had a light love handle but stayed extremely hot for a Dad's bod. He even had the thick happy trail that his son inherited (how I came to be super knowledgeable about his son's body is story for another day).
I think Mr. D was getting very close. He kept ordering my Dad to stroke harder. This could not be their first time, given how my Dad knew his way around Mr. D's cock.
"Fuck, Tom, you're so good at this." Mr. D moaned in short breaths.
"Better than Stacy?" My Dad asked in a naughty and submissive way. I never heard him talk in that tone before.
"Stacy could never!" Mr. D's right hand traced my Dad's hair.
"oh Tom, fuck! I wanna cum in your mouth."
Hungry and eager to please, my Dad wrapped his lips over Mr. D's throbbing cock and took the whole shaft down his throat in one quick swoop. From above, I could see Mr. D's cock disappear completely into my Dad's expert mouth, Daddy's nostril rubbing against the thick, glossy public hair of Mr. D like a lush rainforest.
"I'm gonna cum. Fuck, fuck!"
That was the only warning my Dad had. But he gulped it down like a champ. I could hear slurping sounds, as my Dad swallowed hot, thick, fresh cum from his best friend. Like a well-fed and well-behaved puppy, Daddy looked up with mesmerized eyes as he licked Mr. D clean, sack to tip. He even stretched up to lick the overshot drops on Mr. D's abs.
As the heat of the moment died down, I suddenly got scared that they would discover me. That would be hell. (Did I get second-hand post-nut clarity?)
Taking advantage of the ruckus downstairs while they scrambled to put on clothes, I sneaked back into my room and peed into an empty water bottle, too afraid to even use the bathroom.
As I held the warm, faint-yellow bottle in my hand, I imagined what Mr. D's cum might feel like against my cheek, the same cum that was now gushing through and invading my Daddy's gut, making him pregnant with his best friend's babies.
I jerked myself off with one hand, and held the warm piss bottle against my cheek with the other, pretending it was Mr. D's cum.
The taboo thoughts drove me over the edge pretty quickly, and I cum all over myself, so excited that I dropped the piss bottle on my bed.
The next morning, Mr. D greeted me for breakfast as if nothing had happened. But for me, it was like a curtain of fog just got lifted. I began to notice intimate signs between the two of them that I never did before and could never unsee.
The light touches, 'accidental' brushes against the thighs and shoulder, the lingering looks for just a second too long.
"So, when is your Mum back, Hans?" Mr. D asked as he passed me a cup of milk.
"She's gone for the next two days. You should sleep over again." I replied innocently.
"Nah, your Dad has to work late in the office tonight."
"Why don't you keep me company? I could use some tutoring. That's okay, Dad?"
"Yeah, if Danny doesn't mind. School first."
"I don't mind at all." Mr. D took a sip of milk from my cup. We're close like that.
(Let me know if you want to hear about the second night. I have tingles writing about these memories, and it has been a while since I got to relive them).