Family Arrangments Ch. 01

We live in the county, where houses are farther apart. We aren't by any means far from town, but there is some privacy in being twenty feet from the nearest neighbors rather than five. I leave the window to my home open summer nights. I've been scolded for it once or twice, but I don't believe any of us are really afraid of being burglarized.

I'm a light sleeper, and even if I wasn't, there are three men in the house to defend me—and my mother, who believes herself to be quite the self-defense guru, although all of her knowledge on the subject comes from the TV, as far as I know.

I am twenty. Although it's a shame to still be living with my parents at this point, since the recession I have given up on finding a job and am rather the professional student. Perhaps the only reason my parents can afford to support me, and my two brothers, is because our house was already paid off. They expect us to move on, but I suppose I'm still here because I don't know what I want to do with my life.

Both of my brothers are younger than I am. The elder of the two is 19 years old, and my mother's "baby" is 17. She had planned on having another girl, but there were complications with Jonah's birth and so after that Dad got fixed. I know this doesn't stop them from enjoying a frequent sex life in any way.

I know too much about my parents' sex life, really and sometimes I think that this is how it all began: My room shares a wall with theirs, and through it I can hear just about everything that happens in their room. Yes, everything. And having lived here all my life, I have told them that I can hear everything. The only solution they can come up with for me is to have my bed on the other side of the room. And they did try to be quiet after they found out I could hear them.

But this tale relies on the initial incident, which occurred when I was 20 years old, on the night of March 26th, 2011.

I couldn't sleep; and as is typical for me, when I can't sleep, I went to my desk for my laptop. I'm not one for porn, really (I find it fascinating in a mundane "Look at that!" sort of way) but I do enjoy erotica, so I logged on to a favorite site and started browsing. Orgasm is the only tried-and-proven method I have to instantly make myself exhausted. However, as may happen when one is masturbating every night to get to sleep, I was bored.

I had begun to realize that I really couldn't get horny enough to even bother taking off my pajamas when I heard urgent beeping on the other side of the wall. I checked the time. Four A.M. I like to go to bed at midnight, so still being up was a disappointment to me. Usually, even when I do have trouble finding something to pique my interest, I've gone to bed by 2 in the morning.

As I was musing over my apparent desensitization, and thinking perhaps I should switch to pornographic imagery, I heard my dad's voice on the other side of the wall.

"Jill. Jillian." I was quiet, thinking he was up to shower and leave for work. I didn't need him coming in here to find me surfing for porn. I just didn't. It's shameful enough as a girl to be looking, never mind being caught looking.

"Whaaa?" I hear my mother mumble. She wasn't quite awake yet. As far as I knew she usually slept until 7 before going off to her office job. My father worked longer hours, but he appreciated 4-10 hour days rather than the customary 5-8hour days.

"Jill would you handle my morning woody please?" I blanched. Oh, God. Are they really going to..?

I heard my mother roll over on the bed, and some more shuffling as the springs in the mattress groaned a little. Then I heard a slight, deep throaty gasp. My mother was on the other side of the wall, giving my father a blow job. They didn't know I was awake.

I thought, they must be sneaking it in at all hours of the night. But there was no washing machine running, not even the air conditioning was on at 4 in the morning when everyone was expected to be sleeping, and my father's dick was getting polished by my mother, and there was nothing to cover up their small sounds.

There was slurping. There was slurping, and creaking and the wet noise of my father's prick... what was that like, to know that every morning the moment you woke up someone would be there to please you?

I had had one boyfriend in high school that I tried to give a blow job—once. We were both virgins. I didn't know how to give him satisfaction, and he was too shy to give me any direction, so that was that. I was a twenty year old virgin who had never seen a penis spew its salty load except on the internet; and God knows I had never heard it.

However, my dad was grunting and moaning, and if his initial silence was any indication, then this morning I would get to hear a man shoot his load. I couldn't help it, I felt myself getting wet.

This had never occurred to me before; no one liked to think about their parents doing the deed! But they weren't actually having intercourse, and I was so tired, and so, so wet. With every groan he made I felt another surge in my pussy. It was wrong, so wrong. It was so very naughty. But I couldn't help thinking, I wish I could be the one to do that to someone. To make them groan like that. It sounded so very good. And so I decided, to hell with it. I slowly closed the lid of my laptop, and took off my pajamas.

I was wearing an old extra-large Tee from my dad, and an old pair of PE shorts that still fit from my high school days. I dealt with the shorts first. I had the window open (as I have said I like to) so I decided to keep the shirt. No point in being too cold while I get my rocks off-- And I heard him.

My father had apparently given up on trying to stay quiet, as his murmuring had reached the volume of normal speech that I cannot believe I would have slept through. He was encouraging mom:

"Oohh, yes Jill. Please, massage my balls. Oh God I can't believe we haven't done this for a week now." (No wonder he couldn't keep quiet.) "Fuck... oh baby that's right..."

I didn't bother slipping off my panties or bra. I just tugged the cotton aside and dipped a finger from my left hand in my pussy. I was so wet. I couldn't remember ever being that wet before, not without stimulating myself for any extended period first. My middle finger slipped in and out so very easily, and felt so good as I listened to my daddy moaning on the other side of the wall, and my mother slurping and my own wet, squelching noise as my finger went in and out. I hoped desperately they weren't listening as carefully as I was.

My right hand went to work on my clit as I put another finger into my pussy and gasped. After that I bit my lips together. I was going to have to be fast, and quiet if I didn't want them to catch me.

There was a small pop. I stopped the fingers in my pussy but kept pressure on my clit, back and forth, up and down, circling, circling.

"Oh God Jillian, what the Hell?" That was when I stopped.

"Rob," my mother said, "You're being too loud."

"God Jillian let me cum and I'll be quiet as a mouse. Just let me fucking cum."

"Say Please."

I could hear the deep rumble of my father's voice, but not his words as he responded. He must have capitulated, because soon I heard a quiet, low groan. My pussy gushed, and I started moving again. My clit still throbbed and I could feel an orgasm building. I tried to breath more quickly, speed up the process. But it felt so good, I didn't want it to be over. I felt myself being torn between possibly being caught by my parents frigging myself and getting to have perhaps the best orgasm of my life, if only I could hold out.

There were a series of short gasps on the other side of the wall, followed by a low, guttural groan. I knew when I heard it; my father had cum. I felt my entire body seize with the knowledge that his prick, (Oh how I wondered about it now) had poured his jism into my mother's mouth. My back arched, my toes curled and my legs stiffened on the desk chair as between my legs my right hand kept going on my clit, and I felt my vagina hug my fingers so tightly that I didn't even bother moving them in and out any more. And I orgasmed. It was the damn best orgasm I had ever had.

...

Jillian turned over on the bed and wiped a bit of her husband's sperm off the side of her mouth. She didn't smile, she just sighed and turned over. Rob was lightly cupping his own balls, and he did have a smile on his face. "That was great, Jill," he said.

"Baby, I'm tired. Get to work."

"C'mon Jill... Don't be like that." Rob was genuinely upset. He loved his wife, without question. "I could return the favor."

"Maybe tonight. I need my beauty sleep," she murmured.

He swept an arm over her, and kissed her cheek. "Baby, I just want you to be happy. I miss our morning sessions."

That did make Jillian grin a bit, in her half-wakened state. "I do too, but I get so tired when I haven't slept through the n..."

"Jill," Rob softly called her back. "Jill babe, Let's talk about how to make it work. I know you're tired, Baby."

After a struggle she sat up. Pet names outside of sex weren't really her husband's thing. He gave her some time, just looking at her with her bedhead and matching PJ's before saying, "Maybe we should have a date night."

...

I could hear them murmuring again, on the other side of the wall. Maybe they were just talking. Curious, I fell from the desk chair as quietly as possible (too weak to walk) and crawled over to the wall, putting my ear to it. The voices came into focus.

"There are just so many things to do around here, and it's hard to be sneaking around the kids all the time. I know you want a date night, but I really don't think I have time for that. I get so run down by the end of the day."

"But Jill, babe, this is our sex life. We can't just let it dry up.." (My God! I thought they were fine...)

"Maybe you should get your morning blow job somewhere else, give me some time to sleep in before I go off to work and I'll probably have more energy for you. I'm just so damned tired lately, Rob." (???)

"Jillian, I am not going to another woman. I love you." (Yes! Admirable!)

"Funny, I seem to remember--"

"But Jill, you were there. You know I would never leave this marriage to find someone else, I love you!"

"Oh, Robert... Baby I love you too! That's not what I meant at all... Please, don't cry, honey. I would never!" I had never seen my father cry before. Granted, I wasn't seeing him now, but still. He was crying? What is my mother thinking?

"Robert, I was just thinking that maybe—Well, I don't want you to take this the wrong way—But maybe dear, Stephanie could help you with your morning woody."

Me?