If I remember clearly, Peter was about 13 that time he slept over at my house. His parents had gone away for the weekend and my mum and dad had agreed he could stay with us. He was to sleep in my bed while I slept on a camping bed on the floor of my room.
Mum and dad had clearly intended to ensure the pair of us were exhausted and not likely to stay awake too late. The evening’s activities included a long walk blackberry picking and what felt like hours of frisbee in the local park before some enormous servings of fish and chips that we picked up on the walk back to the house. We were tired and full and even two energetic young lads like us could only stay awake chattering about the kids we hated in school and the girls we wished would notice us for so long before flaking out.
I awoke with a start to find Peter leaning over me, shaking my shoulder, then shushing me firmly when I started to ask him what was the matter.
“You won’t believe what I’ve just seen, come on!”
“What?” I asked, “What is it?”
“Hush! Come and see, but keep very quiet.”
The pair of us in our pyjamas crept along the landing. He led me to the door of my parents’ bedroom, which was slightly ajar. They must have had a bedside lamp on, from the light that was shining out of the gap in the doorway.
Peter put his finger to his lips, then peered through the gap into the bedroom. A grin quickly stretched itself across his face, he turned back to me and nodded me in the direction of the gap.
I looked into the room. There were my parents, on their bed. Dad was kneeling up between Mum’s legs and peeling off his pyjama shirt.
“Are you sure we won’t wake them?” Dad whispered anxiously.
“They’re out cold, I checked in on them ten minutes ago. Come on, I’ve been waiting for this all week and I’m not waiting any longer!”
Dad already had his shorts off, he leaned over Mum while she reached down to take hold of him and guide him into her. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as he entered her, then she grasped at his back with her fingers. Peter, who was shorted than me back then, squeezed himself in front of me so we could both watch at the same time. Dad was rhythmically raising and lowering his arse as he plunged into my mother, while she had raised her knees further so she could push her feet down into the bed and raise herself up to meet each of his steady thrusts.
Spellbound, we watched the hypnotic pattern of the two adults working their parts on each other; mum’s desperate attempts to keep herself quiet by biting her lip, putting her arm across her mouth or grabbing a pillow and putting it across her face. Her beautiful face that I’d never seen shine with happiness in quite that way ever before. Dad’s grim determined look as if he were fixing the car or rodding a drainpipe.
Suddenly mum’s legs started to quiver, her eyes became very wide and her breathing became rapid and shallow. Dad lowered his head and covered her mouth with his own, clearly to stifle the sounds she was no longer unable to prevent herself from making. All the time he kept up his mechanical rhythm, slamming his hips forward repeatedly. Her feet lifted up and kicked in the air a few times, then planted back on the bed as her legs continued to shake gently. Dad paused his pumping and she looked at him with such a beautiful gaze of helpless happy surrender that I knew there and then that one day I wanted to make a woman look at me like that too.
After a brief pause, Dad lay on his back and Mum climbed on top of him, again reaching down to insert him inside of herself. At this angle, Peter and I could clearly see Dad’s impressive equipment entering her hole, and make out the glistening of her juices as she begin to ride up and down on it, ride back and forth on it, and grind herself around on it.
Only now did I become aware that not only was Peter gently rubbing himself through his pyjama shorts, I had become stiffer than I’d ever been before and he was pushing back and rubbing against me. I reached around him to hold him through his shorts as he removed his hand and put it behind him, feeling for my stiffness and wrapping his hand around mine as I had his. I had not been masturbating long but I knew what to do, starting to work up and down Peter’s length gently. As he copied my actions onto me, I gasped slightly and we both heard Dad whisper “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Mum said, looking at the doorway. Could she see us out here? I had no idea. In terror, we both froze and our erections instantly melted.
“You’re worrying about nothing. Now come on, fill me up!”
Terrified, Peter and I crept back to my room and sat on the edge of the bed.
“That was amazing, mate! Watching your mum and dad doing it! And your mum is hot! She was gagging for it.”
“I want to make a girl pull those faces she was pulling. God that must be so amazing!”
“That wasn’t the only thing being pulled, was it?” I realised he had his hand resting on my leg, near the hem of my shorts. “It must feel really amazing to have it inside something warm and wet like that.”
“Er, yeah. Yeah it must.”
He just looked at me for a moment. “Well, let’s find out.” Pushing his hand up inside the leg of my shorts, he took hold of me again, but this time with no fabric between his hand and my once more stiffened member. Pulling the skin gently and slowly as he’d learned from me minutes before, he looked at it with fascination, before lowering his head and starting to lick around the end of it. Now that I was wetted, he began to draw the skin back further until his hand was travelling the full length of it and his mouth was slobbering over and around the head, keeping the whole thing moist and slippery.
It felt amazing. I had no idea having someone else doing the same things I did to it could feel so completely different, and definitely better! I reached over, down through the waistband of his shorts and took his back into my own hand. Suddenly I had to stop stroking him as I felt the familiar rising sensation in my abdomen. He must have sensed it too as his hand movements became slightly firmer and more regular and he planted his mouth firmly around the head, licking the underside of the tip fervently with his tongue.
That did it. I grunted as quietly as I could as I squirted over and over into his mouth, his hand pulling the skin back in time with each squirt. As I calmed down, I touched his arm and said “Your turn now, then?”
“Now I’d love to see that!” came an unexpected voice.
We both turned in shock to see Mum standing just inside my bedroom door, her hand tucked inside her dressing gown clearly rubbing herself.
“You boys looked so amazing doing that, I just couldn’t keep my hands off myself. I thought my little show earlier might inspire the pair of you. Yes, son, you should return the favour to your guest right away. And then we’ll see what else you boys are capable of.”