Dad interrupts mid-jizz.

So there I was painting my reflection in the mirror with spunk, crotch pistoning like a crazed bull slamming its cock into a tight hole, and moaning and grunting obscenely as I humped both fists when I suddenly see my bedroom door fly open in my peripheral vision. Like any teenager mid-orgasm, my brain was melted so it was all I could to do twist around and see who was invading this very personal moment my turgid schlong and I were having together.

It was my dad.

What happened next was mortifying. He screamed, "Oh, shit! Sorry, Timmy," and tried to back away.

In the heat of my brain-melting orgasm, though, I couldn't just stop fapping. I couldn't let go of my turgid cock. I couldn't tame my bucking hips.

No, I just kept on, only now I was facing my open doorway and my embarrassed father as he slowly backed away. Too slowly.

Another thick rope of cum erupted from my meat cannon and slung across the room to paint his chest. Then another fat wad splashed across his face. I dropped to my knees on the floor, still grinding against my hands, whacking it for all it was worth, and the next volley sprayed the wall above the door where he stood.

He stood there, mouth agape, trying to comprehend the sheer **** and magnitude of my orgasm as it continued on for what felt like another 30 seconds.

As my orgasm subsided and the jets of spooge turned into a dribble, my hips finally stopped bucking and I collapsed prone on to the floor. As I panted for breath I asked, "Why--ahh-Dad--Ohh--You could--ahh--have knocked? Shit, Dad. You could have knocked."

He was silent for a long time, then finally, he spoke. "Why don't we take a minute to clean up," he said. "Then we need to talk."

Now, we're seated on my bed and arguing over whether I should see one of his urologist friends. We've been fighting for about an hour, and he insists that I must have some kind of developmental problem or worse, dick cancer or something, that is responsible for my abnormally large junk.

"Gonadal development like this, son, it just isn't normal. Certainly not for someone of your size and probably not for anyone. I'm going to call Dr. Sheffield and try to get you an appointment tomorrow."

"Dad, no. I feel fine. I don't have any symptoms. I don't have any pain. Sure, my dick is--"

"Penis!"

"Whatever!--My "penis" is a little inconvenient sometimes, and I don't appreciate the way it gets in the way of things, but--"

He takes a deep breath. "Timmy. Your testicles are huge. No human has testicles that large; it could be cancer. It could be hormone imbalances. For sure the volume of semen you just... Erm... That is not normal."

"Dad, I'm fine."

"I just want to be sure."

"I'm 18, Dad. I'll handle it."

"Well I'm a doctor. And I'm your father. And you will be seeing a specialist about this. END OF DISCUSSION. I'm keeping you home from school until we can get you an appointment."

He stands up and strides to the door. Before he goes though, there's something I want to ask him.

"Uh, Dad?"

He turns and looks at me sternly. "What?"

"Could we get a lock put on my door, at least?"

"Uh, sure."

"Thanks. And, uh, could you close the door behind you?"

He looks concerned, like he knows what I'm about to do. Aghast, he whispers, "Again?"

I nod.

"How many times a day do you...?" He trails off.

Jesus? What should I say? What's normal for guys my age? Twenty or so? I don't know. I decide to just really low-ball it. "Like 15 times?" I say.

His eyes bulge. I guess I'm even more abnormally horny than I thought... the real number is at least twice that. At least I don't have to go to school today. I can get a few more bate sessions in.