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When I was 19, back in the early 90s, I watched my father (who was 47 at the time) jerk off. He was and is (to my knowledge) unaware that this happened. And although it wasn't intentional, it will always live in my spank bank.

At the time I was in the middle of moving from one apartment to another, and I had some time between when one lease ended and the other began, so my parents offered to let me stay at home for a couple weeks. So, grateful for the offer, I moved back into my childhood bedroom, which was very odd. It was still mostly set up the way it had been when I was growing up, but without a lot of the books, games, etc so that the room could be used as a guest room.

Anyway, things had been tense between my parents. To the point that my mother and sister went away to stay with my grandparents for a long weekend, leaving just me and dad in the house. (I know, this all sounds like a huge setup to a porno, but this is all exactly as it happened.)

Now, I didn't know the details of why my parents were squabbling, but they'd never exactly been Mike and Carol Brady. A couple years back, when I was in high school, I had cut class and went with some friends to Pizza Hut for lunch. Next to the Pizza Hut was a Days Inn. About thirty minutes into our meal, I saw a car pull in that looked just like my dad's. I was shocked to see him get out of the car with my "Aunt" Elaine. (Not really my Aunt, but she was always a close family friend, so I called her Aunt.) It was pretty clear, even to a teenage, what was going on and it made me very uncomfortable.

Over the following years, I kept it a secret because I didn't know what to do with the information, and eventually convinced myself I had made wrong assumptions or maybe just saw two people who looked like my father and aunt.

Flash forward to the weekend my mother and sister were away. At 19 I was in a constant state of horniness. I'd been out to my parents for about two years. Back then it was still something unusual to most parents when their child came out. Mine took it well, for the most part. Not a lot of drama, just some honest conversations and then it became something of a non-issue. (I sense they probably suspected on some level all along.)

So I was kind of looking forward to having the weekend to look at some dirty magazines I'd brought with me in my travel bag. I also had a deck of cards with the images of Chippendales dancers that I had bought at Spencer's Gifts at the mall (and made a big point of telling the cashier that they were a joke for my college roommate. She didn't care and I didn't actually have a college roommate...) This was before the internet, so back then you took what you could find to get off.

Dad and I, while reasonably civil to each other, had never really been super close. Not because of any homophobia on his part or anything, but just because he was very traditional and focused most of his energy on working hard and keeping a roof over our heads. (He spent years working as a roofer and had recently gotten an office job, which paid more but drove him nuts because of all the politics.)

That weekend, I was standing in the kitchen getting ready to make some lunch when my dad came in the front door. He had been mowing the yard and I could tell he was a bit irritated at me for not offering to do it. I really should have, but I was pretty self-absorbed at that point in my life. Dad was all sweaty and he had on a tight t-shirt that was soaked through.

Now, before I go further, I need to make something clear: I was not sexually attracted to my father. Objectively, he was a very attractive man, at least in the sense that he was very masculine, decently built, with muscles and a deep tan that came from all those years roofing. So I want to make it clear that, in spite of what I am describing, there was no secret hunger on my part that day for what was about to occur. 

Dad gave me a grimace and told me he was going upstairs to take a shower and then he'd be camping out in his bedroom to review some reports for work. He paused for a moment and, seeing I wasn't really listening, said "Hey. Look at me." I stopped making my lunch and turned to meet his gaze. "I do not want to be disturbed for at least an hour or two." He sighed and said "why don't you go out for a while so I can concentrate?"

I just shrugged and said "sounds good" because as far as I was concerned, I didn't plan to see him for the rest of the day! I had a date with my right hand. But I did think it was slightly odd that he said "so I can concentrate" because it's not like I was a huge distraction. I spent most of my time in my room, reading comic books, playing some games on my computer, and writing outlines to novels I would never actually start. Regardless, aside from it registering as an odd word choice, I didn't really give it any more thought at the time.

We lived in a split level house, so there was a main floor with the living room, a den, a half bath, and the kitchen. There were stairs leading up to my parents' room, my sister's room, the main bath, and my mother's sewing room. Downstairs there was a finished basement with a laundry room, a game room with a pool table, and my bedroom. Dad made his way upstairs and a few moments later I heard the shower running. I took my lunch downstairs to my bedroom, finished my lunch, and then put on my headphones to listen to some music on my Walkman. I figured I'd lay there and chill for a bit and let my mind wander until I was horny enough to jerk it.

As I mentioned, I was 19, so it didn't take long. I pulled off my headphones and was about to reach for the deck of Chippendale cards when I heard an odd noise. My bedroom was directly below my parents' bedroom. Over the years, I had become aware on the odd occasion when they were having sex because I'd hear the springs of their bed squeaking ever so slightly in a rhythm. That was the exact sound I heard now, although it seemed… different somehow.

It was enough for me to know that whatever Dad was doing up there, it wasn't reading reports. That thought, however, was not any kind of turn on for me. It actually pissed me off, because my first thought was that he had snuck in my Aunt Elaine and was disrespecting my mother again, and in her own house.

All the anger and disappointment I had experienced the last time I found him cheating came rushing back to me. This time, I vowed, I would not let him get away with it. If he was going to embarrass my mother, I was going to embarrass him and let him know I was on to him. 

I braced myself for a confrontation and made my way upstairs. I decided it was best to surprise him, so I went into my sister's bedroom, which was located right next to my parents' upstairs. She had a heart condition which made her exceptionally fragile and required her to be close to them, which is why I moved my own bedroom downstairs years ago. 

In my sister's closet was a small pass-thru to my parents' room. They had built that years ago so they could hear my sister call out in case she needed help or was in pain, etc. This was well before things like child monitors or intercoms were common and/or cheap enough for the average person. As I slipped into the pathway, I could hear the muffled sounds of a woman moaning. My heart sank; there was still part of me that hoped I had gotten it wrong, that my dad wasn't cheating on my mom again. But I couldn't deny the sounds I was hearing. At least she had the decency to try to be quiet, as the moans were pretty muted.

The doorway between the pass-thru and my parents' room was a slider, so I gently pushed it open about half an inch. Before I ran in there and caused all kinds of hell, I needed to confirm what I suspected with my own eyes. Did it occur to me that I would see my father and "aunt" in the midst of doing it? Not really, I was just angry more than anything else.

I took a deep breath and peered in. The moaning became slightly louder, but was still relatively quiet. From the angle I was standing, I could see the bed clearly. The bedspread was still on the bed, but it was definitely disheveled. Some action had taken place there for sure. But I could still hear the woman quietly moaning, so I came to the conclusion that they had moved from the bed to somewhere else in the room. 

Before I had time to think about it, the sounds of the moaning stopped suddenly. I froze. Had they seen me? Suddenly my plan to be a hero and bust in and defend my mom's honor didn't sound like such a good idea! I toyed with the idea of just running out of the room and back downstairs, but instead I stood completely still and held my breath.

What happened next suddenly made everything crystal clear. I heard the very distinctive sound of a videotape being ejected from a VCR, followed by another tape going in. Shit, I thought. What a dumbass I was. He wasn't messing around with Aunt Elaine! He was just taking advantage of the relative quiet solitude of the weekend to watch some porn and get his rocks off! Just like I had planned! The squeaky bed sounds were just him getting into it, and the quiet moans were from a porn tape he'd been watching, and he was keeping the volume low. 

It occurred to me that I had told him earlier I was going out, when in fact I'd just gone downstairs and listened to music and (unintentionally) been quiet as a church mouse. Clearly he'd assumed I had left and was trying to keep things relatively quiet himself so he could hear if I came back in the front door.

I felt completely foolish and stifled a laugh at how badly off the mark I'd been. Poor Dad, I thought. He was still a pretty young guy, and obviously he wasn't getting enough action, so he had to take every moment he could to beat his meat.

All of these thoughts flew through my head within seconds as realization set in. I was preparing to slink back to my room and leave him to it when I heard the quiet moans continue, this time clearly from a different woman. He'd changed the tape to something else. As I was turning my head to make sure the coast was clear behind me to make a gentle retreat, I saw a shadow move across the gap in the door. I heard him clear his throat very quietly, which made me aware that he was literally only inches from the pass-thru where I was standing.

I cursed silently and held my breath again as I saw him slowly pass by the door. It was only a glimpse, but I could see he was dressed in an athletic tee. He had a pair of tight jockey briefs on, maroon and grey stripes, and a pair of white socks. His salt and pepper hair, still thick except for a slight receding hairline in the front, was still damp from the shower. I recognized the ensemble, as I'd seen him walk from the bathroom to his bedroom many times over the years after a shower. He was a big fan of jockey shorts; a lot of guys wore them back then. Well, they did in the 80s… by this time most guys had switched to cotton boxers, but Dad was never one to keep up with the times, especially when it came to fashion. 

Once he passed by, I exhaled as quietly as I could. Okay, I thought, now's the time to make your exit. 

But I couldn't. To this day, I can't explain it, but I couldn't move. If I had to describe what was going through my mind at that moment, I would have to say it was a mixture of curiosity, general horniness, and yeah, if I am honest, an excitement that this was very taboo.

Dad climbed back into bed and fluffed the pillows behind him. He placed the VCR remote on his side table and made himself comfortable.

This was the moment I saw that my dad was rock hard in his jockey shorts. Now, as I said, I had seen him walking around in his jockeys many times and there was no denying he had an ample package. I remember putting on a pair of tight white Fruit of the Loom briefs and looking at myself in the mirror when I was filling out to see how I compared to Dad's package. Well, I will say this: back then there was no comparison. 

But even as many times as I'd seen that, I'd never seen him hard. I guess that's true for most people. But there he was, laying back, and his cock was clearly rock hard and laying to the right, making a huge bulge. With the experience I have now, I wouldn't say he was larger than average, but to 19 year old me, he was huge. I remember being able to see, even from a small distance, that his cock was pulsing slightly in his shorts and the waist band was beginning to pull away from the sheer pressure being placed in those tight cotton briefs.

If I am being completely realistic, all of this happened in a matter of seconds. But each detail is etched in my memory, so it feels somewhat of a relief to spell it all out here. 

Dad was now something different in my mind. He wasn't just a father, he was a man. I was seeing something that no kid, 19 years old or not, should see. Not just because it was a sexual situation, exactly, more that he was just… being himself. Letting down the veneer of parenthood. We usually become friends with our parents as we grow older and need them less, and that's been true for me and my Dad, but this is the first time I'd ever really thought of him as just a man.

I felt my heart race, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. He sighed a little as his eyes stayed fixated on the television on the opposite wall. I couldn't see the tv from my angle, but I could tell he was watching some chick get totally railed based on her over the top moaning. I watched as he reached up behind his head to pull his pillow up a little further. His armpit was dense with black hair, and that was the first time I realized how goddamn hairy dad was. I mean, I'd seen him shirtless, and in the summer when he was wearing shorts, I could see from the knees down he had strong, furry legs. Again, this was all just objective observations, it wasn't anything sexual.


But what I was seeing before me now was decidedly not objective. That flash of dark hair under his arm caused me to look him up and down and take in his hairy body in a very different light. Those strong legs I had seen in his shorts were now even more exposed and I couldn't help but be impressed by his large, muscular thighs. The fur was denser there as my eyes continued to travel up his body.

As my gaze moved to his impressive bulge, I saw that his hand had also moved there. His big, slightly calloused right hand was slowly rubbing across the thick length of his cock under the jockey shorts. I saw tufts of dark hair protruding from around where the mound of his balls were, and lower. 

It was about this point when I realized I was starting to get hard. I had only a moment of shame, as I couldn't believe my body was responding to what I was seeing. But that quickly faded as I concentrated on seeing and remembering as many details as I could. I knew, even then, that this was a once in a lifetime experience.

After a few seconds, Dad grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and in a smooth motion pulled it backward, so it was still on, but tucked behind his head, out of the way. I didn't realize then, but looking back, I know that's the universal sign of "let me not get my cum all over my shirt."


His chest was glistening, probably a combo of his recent shower as well as the humidity. We didn't have central air yet, so it was pretty warm in the house. I admired how the fur from his chest was spread evenly across his pecs; a small patch of silver fur lived between them, and I found that fascinating. It had been a while since I had seen him shirtless and I know his fur wasn't silver then.


The dense forest of fur narrowed slightly as it made its way down his stomach. Dad used to have a great stomach, but it wasn't exactly typical for men his age to have rock hard abs back then. He had something of a paunch… a "beer belly" he would call it, even though he was more inclined to drink whiskey than beer. The fur formed a thin line above his navel, but slowly spread out a bit wider as it disappeared under the waistband of his underwear.

And then it happened. Something on the video caught his attention and he froze for a second, his hand motionless on his swollen bulge. He exhaled and whispered "oh fuck…" and before I knew it he pulled the front of his shorts down and tucked them under his balls.

I nearly gasped as I saw the display before me. His dick stood tall and proud. It was swollen and even from my hidden perspective I could see it was thick and veiny. He'd obviously been working it a long time before I got there, because it was covered with a light coating of some kind of lube. I couldn't fathom my dad using, let alone owning, any kind of lube, but suffice it to say that was the last thing on my mind in that moment.

Like the rest of him, Dad's big hard cock was surrounded by a thick mat of black hair. His balls were relatively smooth, but there was definitely some peach fuzz. Did he shave them? I wondered. Doubtful since he didn't appear to shave anywhere else. Maybe they were just naturally smoother.

He ran his hands gently over his dick and balls, taking time to swirl the palm of his hand around the helmet. Dad, like me, was circumcised, so the head of his dick was fully exposed and sensitive to his touch. I watched his mouth form a tight circle as he caressed it.

I was fascinated by the display in front of me, and legit wondered if I was dreaming. My own dick continued to throb in my pants, but I didn't dare move a muscle.

Every movement he made was agony to me. I wondered what he would do next; where would this lead? I am sure on some level I already knew, but I was a lot more naïve back then.

Dad kept his gaze fixated on the movie and without missing a beat he reached over to his side table and, for the first time, I noticed a bottle of lotion there. I recognized it as the lotion my mom used at night, and I glanced over to her side table and, sure enough, he'd taken it from there. He pumped a few squirts into his hand and then moved to wrap his hand around the raging hard on before him.

He bit his lip. He gasped. His dick was clearly both sensitive and not accustomed to this kind of attention. He was really enjoying himself and I felt glad for him. Every man deserves to feel this way. I watched as his greasy hand squeezed ever tighter around his shaft. His gasp turned into a low, guttural growl. His eyes rolled back in his head and he murmured "Jesus… Jesus Christ." He wasn't a religious man so I took that to mean it felt really fucking good. 

Once the initial sensations were over, he began stroking in earnest. His face flushed a deep shade of scarlet as his hand swept up and down, over and over, gradually increasing in speed. I heard him start to breathe hard and I thought "here it comes!" But then he stopped. He began to relax a bit. Clearly he was going to stretch this out.

He took his hands off his cock and lay them at his side for a moment. His big hard dick continued to stand upright, pulsing slightly to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He closed his eyes, probably trying to block out the visual stimulation on the tv so as not to go too far over the edge. 

He stayed that way for about 30 seconds, and each second was an eternity for me. I had such mixed emotions; I at once wanted it to be over, but also wanted to watch him for hours.

I could fib here and say he kept it up forever, but the truth is, he knew he had limited time. He had no idea how long I'd be "out" so I knew he was a man on a mission. However, he had one more display in mind for me that I will never forget.

His dick still bouncing in front of him, he sat up quickly on the side of the bed. Instinctively, I backed up ever so slightly and bumped into the wall of the closet. I felt the blood drain from my body… except for my throbbing dick.

He paused only for a second at the noise, and I assume he was listening to see if I was coming through the front door. When he didn't hear anything else, he stood and proceeded to pull his t-shirt completely off and tossed it to the floor. He turned around and I admired his broad back, with its soft fur at the shoulders. I also noticed a small tuft of fur protruding from the back of his jockeys, but not for long because without missing a beat, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down to his ankles.

It took seconds, but in those seconds, I saw my dad's naked ass for the first time. Like the rest of him, it was covered with fur, but what I had never noticed was that it was massive. It looked like two bowling balls pressed together. Clearly all those years working outside and scaling roofs had left their mark. As he bent over and stepped out of his shorts, I got a shiver as I ever so briefly got a glimpse at his most secret of places. The crevice between those bowling balls was covered with the same thick fur and damp with sweat. His hole was a pink beacon amongst that fur… so tight and (presumably) unexplored. Although as I was learning, Dad had a side to him I'd never seen, so any assumptions I made went out the window.

He kicked his shorts aside and laid back down on the bed. Taking another small squirt of lotion, he returned to his primary mission… bringing that hot, hard, hairy cock to its natural conclusion. 


As I grew older, I found myself really turned on by the facial expressions of my sex partners and in porn. I am convinced it comes back to this moment; watching my dad stare intently at the screen, his eyes slightly glassy, biting his lip a touch, quiet groans emanating from his throat. 

My eyes flew back and forth from his face to his cock, once again sliding rapidly between his greasy hand. Sometimes he would wrap both of his hands around it, or create a "sandwich" with his palms flat against it as he thrust up into it. As he thrust, he started to slide down the bed a bit, so he brought his legs up to stabilize himself. This gave me an even better view, as I could see his balls tighten up. I knew we were close to blast off.

The pace of his thrusting began to increase. The flush in his cheeks got deeper. I could not believe I was watching my dad, totally naked, on full display, with a thick hard cock going in and out of his fist. I felt a spot forming in my shorts as my dick leaked precum, but I resisted the urge to touch it.


The tension in my body was causing me to ache as I struggled to remain still. Was this the same guy who walked into the house an hour ago? It couldn't be. I felt absolutely no twinge of anything remotely sexual toward him in that moment, but now… I couldn't take my eyes of him and yes, god damn it, he was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

His dick was very slippery, and at one point it slipped from his grasp and landed with a loud 'thwap' against his stomach. I will literally never forget that sound. He didn't miss a beat, though, and picked right up where he left off. 

And then, Dad rewarded me for my patience. His breathing started to come in quick bursts, I heard him start to whisper "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" (Dad never cursed, other than the occasional "damn" or "shit." Back then, parents never said the F bomb around their kids.) So this exclamation of foul language just made things even hotter.

He began to lift slightly off the bed as he continued to pump his cock. I could see his balls rise closer and closer, and I knew what that meant. His "fuck, fuck, fuck" turned into "Oh God! Oh God! Oh my fucking God!"

And then he blew. And when I say he blew, he fucking blew. He'd clearly been holding back for a long time, because a couple small streams of cum started rolling out and covering his slick greasy hand, but after that, blast after blast few from his dick, rising about 10 inches in the air and landing with a splat on his hairy chest. I heard him laugh ever so slightly as he watched his orgasm explode. A second wave of pleasure hit him and he squeezed his eyes shut. More cum continued to shoot out and he started to convulse a little as the pleasure started to fade. One blast came so close to hitting him in the face; I am secretly glad it didn't because I think I would have just lost it there and blown my cover.

As he began to relax, he laid back and gave his dick a couple more squeezes. A few more drops of semen poured forth. Letting it go, his dick fell to the side with a sticky thud. I found myself releasing a deep breath and prayed he didn't hear me; he didn't, the sounds of the porn continued to obscure the ambient noise.

He laid there for a few moments, completely spent. He was lost in that euphoric after glow that we all experience after an especially good cumshot. I decided I had finally seen enough, and I knew I had to get my own cock out and jerk it soon, or things were going to get messy.

It took forever for me to slowly back out of the closet and make my way back downstairs. I was barely in my room before I had my cock out and I am not ashamed to admit I blew an amazing load that rivaled my Dad's; and to my mild shock and amazement, it was the image of him shooting all that seed all over his broad hairy chest that pushed me over the limit. Truthfully, I've blown hundreds of loads to that memory over the years.

As I gathered my wits about me and convinced myself that I hadn't dreamed the whole thing, I heard the sound of my dad moving around his bedroom and making his way downstairs to the kitchen. I made sure I didn't look too disheveled and went up to join him.

He was startled by my presence, I could tell. He was wearing his robe and, when he saw me, he instinctively pulled it tighter. That clued me in that he was still naked under it and, quite possibly, still covered in his own cum. I cleared my throat and tried to imagine something else.

He seemed slightly embarrassed, which was a new emotion from my stoic, stubborn father, as he asked me when I had gotten home. I confessed that I had never left, but had fallen asleep in my room with headphones on. I asked if he had gotten his work done and he said it was going to be a long night. I glanced at his robe and said "it must be, if you never even bothered to get dressed again after your shower."

He didn't respond, but he looked at me for a beat, his eyes narrowing. He just nodded slightly and went about making a cup of coffee.

That's where the main story ends. I obviously never talked about it with him or anyone else in my family. But there's one last detail that still lingers on my mind.

About 10 years after this occurred, and my relationship with my dad had warmed up, we were out to dinner one night, just the two of us. He and Mom had finally divorced a couple years back and Dad was thinking of dipping his toe back in to the dating scene. The divorce had put him through it, and the age was more pronounced on him, but he was still a very handsome guy, even in his late fifties.

As we ate, we chatted about my relationship with my boyfriend at the time, and my ever-changing job situation. I jokingly said my real mission in life was to be a male stripper and he laughed really loudly. And then he said, "that's a perfect job for you. You must have gotten your desire to show off from your old man."

I laughed but those words always stayed with me. As I aged, I realized that when we are young, we always think we are so smart and so much more clever than the adults around us, when that's rarely true. So when Dad acknowledged that he was, in his words, a "showoff" it made me think for a moment… was that what the whole thing was all about? Did he know I was watching? He knew I was gay, even then. Why would he go out of his way to tell me to leave him alone for a while? That's something you say to a child when you need them to just get out of your hair. I was 19, he had to know that was unlikely.

So I'll always wonder… did he "show off" for me on purpose? I realize that's very unlikely, but it frames that memory in a completely new way. 

I guess I'll never know. But I am now around the same age as Dad was when I saw that performance. And, like him, I'm a horny, hairy dude who loves to put on a show and jacks off anytime I can. And while I don't have kids, the idea of having my 19 year old son watch me like I watched Dad back then… well let's just say I might act like I didn't know he was watching too!

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