I laughed out loud to read the account of a young man whose father began to write erotica. His son had a 'different' way of handling the situation. Here's an excerpt, suitably censored.
Sex is not something you ever want to read from the guy who taught you how to ride a bike.
When, at a family gathering, I was gleefully ushered into the study and asked if I’d mind reading some draft pages of a novel he’d been writing, I had no idea of the horror awaiting me. To the contrary, I was genuinely excited. It was only a few days later, as I was perusing the pages, that I discovered he had written full-blown dad-erotica.
. . .
It’s a truth universally acknowledged that no one should be subjected to the sexual fantasies of their 60-year-old father. Yet by throwing my better judgment, and lunch, to the wind, here’s what I discovered: Belinda Blinked is genius.
Not Steinbeck genius, but my goodness it’s better than E L James. For one thing, there’s never a dull moment. For all the points Dad misses on his mission to arouse, Belinda Blinked makes up for in downright hilarity. It’s that naive kind of funny, that magical brand of humour that can only be born from a complete lack of awareness ... If my three sisters and I didn’t exist, I’d genuinely question whether my dad had ever had sex.
There's more at the link. It's relatively innocuously worded, but I still wouldn't recommend reading it at work or when small kids are around. Nevertheless, it's very funny (at least, it tickled my British-colonial sense of humor). Recommended reading.