Walls

It must be night-time because it's dark outside, but I really have no idea how late it is, I'm deliberately not checking the time. I'm sitting beside my open window, the breeze finally beginning to cool down my bedroom. I push my hair back and promptly wipe the sweat from my hand on to my jeans under the desk. The computer's fan whirs like it's complaining and I pause to stretch my wrists.

"Fucking Adorno and Horkeimer," I mutter, tracing my finger down the page to find the reference again.

Through the wall I can hear my parents muttering quietly to each other. This is an approximate time reference for me; usually dad would be snoring by one in the morning; it must still be early. I down the last of my cold coffee and rub my eyes. The breeze isn't doing enough to keep me awake.

My parents' muttering is distracting. I'm beginning to regret going to uni so close to home. Bree had the right idea, fucking off across the other side of the country. I bet she's sleeping soundly in her apartment. Of course, I'd still be in dorms, being a freshman, and I'd have parties and fuckboys to deal with. On balance, my parent's muttering isn't so bad.

I hear my mother chuckle softly and my father's low voice. She sighs happily, then gasps and giggles.

I suppose I should be happy to have parents that are still together, let alone still enjoying a sex-life. They're both active and fit, ageing gracefully and handsomely. I hope I look as good as my mom when I reach her age.

She gasps again and I try to ignore it. There's more quiet muttering and I hear their door open and the pad of bare feet along the landing to my room. A soft knock precedes my door opening and I turn to see my father poking his head in.

"Honey, you're still up?" he says quietly.

I'm sitting cross-legged on a swivel-chair and I turn it towards him.

"Hi dad, yeah, I just need to get this finished," I smile weakly.

He steps properly in to my room and walks closer, leaning past me to look at my screen, muttering softly as he reads a portion of my essay.

"How did you get so smart?" he asks, still reading.

I can smell mom on him, faintly, on top of his own scent. I can't help but notice the outline of his cock in his boxer shorts, it's not erect but very present, curving down against his thigh.

"Don't stay up too late then, Jodie," he sighs, straightening up but immediately leaning down again to kiss the top of my head.

"Thanks dad, I won't, five more minutes, I promise," I smile as he retreats to the landing.

Back in his own bedroom I hear the muttering resume but nothing to suggest they're getting amorous again. I feel a pang of guilt. Do they not want me to hear, or is it that they don't want to distract me?

I focus on getting to a good enough place to stop for the night. I was hoping to get the whole thing finished but I can leave the tidying up for tomorrow when a pair of fresh eyes are more likely to spot my mistakes.

After five minutes I dutifully get up and flip the switch by my door, plunging my room into darkness with blue glow of the screen the only light source. Peeling off my jeans and reaching under my tee-shirt to remove my bra I head out on to the landing and in to the bathroom, peeing, then brushing my teeth.

"Goodnight," I hiss, pausing by mom and dad's bedroom door, open a crack as always.

Their room is dark and there's no reply. Another pang of guilt.

In my room I check my phone, wondering if anyone has been thinking about me, then lie on my bed, waiting for sleep to take me.

It doesn't though, my mind races as it continues to work on my essay. I close my eyes and have Tetris syndrome - words appearing one letter at a time, my brain typing my thoughts. I slow my breathing and try to think of something else, anything. My guilt at cock-blocking my parents. Dad's cock.

"The fuck?" I mutter aloud to myself.

I try to think about the reading I need to get done next weekend; the lecture tomorrow afternoon.

There's a soft mutter through the wall and immediately my mother sighs again.

So I didn't cock-block them, that's something I suppose. Still, I wish I'd managed to get to sleep before they started again. Dad's cock.

"Fuck it," I sigh and reach for my phone, it's obviously time for the only guaranteed way to get me to sleep. I scroll through increasingly explicit images and gifs, my fingers grazing back and forth over my panties.

My parents' bed thumps softly against the wall and mom groans. The girl on my phone rolls her eyes up as the guy behind her thrusts and I feel the warm wet spot in my panties. I scroll further, looking for that elusive one I know will push me over the edge. The breeze plays over my body and I pinch my nipples through my tee-shirt, goosebumps rising on my thighs. Dad grunts, mom groans, and I spread my legs a little wider, dropping one foot to the floor beside my bed and pushing my panties between my lips, grinding the pad of my index finger over my clit.

The next gif shows a girl being spooned, the man behind her greying around his temples, one of her legs hooked back over his, his cock inside her - mom groans. Dad's cock. An involuntary whimper escapes my mouth and I push my hand inside my panties.

Their bed thumps again. This is why I have this bedroom; Bree complained, she said they were too noisy, she insisted on switching with me. Now she's at uni I have no idea why I don't sleep in her room instead. Another thump, another grunt, their bed squeaking, and my fingers stroking in-time with them. I roll on my front, grinding my palm as I push two fingers in my pussy, probing, keeping rhythm with mom's pants, my own moans muffled by my pillow. I raise my butt from the bed, the sheets sticking to my sweaty skin. My phone discarded, I imagine that man behind me, rough fingers on my butt, cock pushing inside me, deeper, mom grunting with discomfort through the wall, my teeth closing on my pillow as I feel my climax rise, beginning like tension low in my body. In my head he has me bent over, gentle but dominant, drilling me on my bed while my parents fuck in the next room. He moves me around; against the door, on the rug, bent over my bed, bent over my desk, reading my essay over my shoulder as he fucks me from behind, telling me how good it is - dad's cock thick but relaxed in his boxer shorts, close enough to touch, to stroke and lick and taste -

Mom moans, the thump of their bed against my wall has reached its crescendo, it's creaking like an old ship in a storm, I picture them there, mom holding the headboard as dad plows her from behind, her face, her eyes roll back. I drag my fingers out and slide them slick and slow over my clit, sawing back and forth, images of dad working in the garden, his strong arm moving as he cuts through timber without any effort. My orgasm peaks, all denial gone as I think of dad, my body shaking as I cum on his cock. I try to hold it there, to ride the wave, but all too soon it's gone.

I pull my hand from my panties and lift my head from my drool and sweat-soaked pillow. Through the wall mom and dad are silent and I wonder how long ago they finished. My limbs ache as I clamber off my bed and stand beside it, guilt and shame competing as I try to ignore them, but they're smeared between my thighs. A clean pair of underwear and a tee-shirt that isn't wet with sweat. I shake out my sheet and turn over my pillow then stand by the open window, looking out at the deserted street and feeling the night air attempt to bathe my skin as I compose myself and catch my breath. Finally though I return to my bed, lie down and feel sleep's hand reaching for me.

I sleep fitfully though, concerns about my essay plaguing my dreams, and then a wider sense of insecurity about my degree leaving me feeling small and vulnerable. I know they're just dreams and I tell myself I can wake up, but I also know the concerns are real, and I'd rather not face them awake. It's too late though, my self-referential thoughts have broken the dream and I wake. My bedroom is cold now but my skin is clammy with sweat.

Getting out of bed I notice the grey light of dawn beginning to soften the horizon, it must still be early if the sun isn't up yet and I need to sleep or I'm not going to absorb a word of professor Hooper's lecture. I fetch a glass of water and pass my parents' bedroom as I return, pausing, poking my head around their door to see them both fast asleep, dad snoring softly. The forgotten guilt of my fantasy resurfaces but I quickly cover it up in my mind, telling myself I was over-tired, and stressed, and reacting to random stimuli. And then a thought occurs to me, the thought that I always slept so well after a nightmare if I crawled in to my parents bed.

Without giving my mind the opportunity to protest I sneak in to their bedroom, setting down my glass of water on the dresser and crawling on to the end of their bed, into the wide space between them and lying down on my side. I pull my legs up a little and close my eyes, certain that getting back to sleep won't be a problem now.

I don't wake again before dawn, a dreamless sleep leaving me rested and relaxed. When I do wake though it takes me a moment to get my bearings. Realising I'm in my parents' bed reminds me of my libido's indiscretion hours earlier. Still, just one of those things I suppose, my friends studying first-year psychology would presumably have a field-day with the information.

I'm lying facing mom, her eyes are closed as she sleeps. Behind me I feel dad shifting position and I'm about to roll over, expecting to have to explain my presence, instead he moves closer, muttering incoherently, obviously not entirely awake, and throws and arm over my body to pull me closer.

"Dad," I hiss, intending to wake him but clearly to no avail as he holds me, his heavy hand cupping one of my breasts. It's awkward as fuck and I struggle to move away, only succeeding in making him pull me firmly against him, and then I feel it, the swell and heat of his cock against my ass.

I don't know how I failed to notice his nakedness when I crept in during the night, but now it's very obvious as he presses against me, the head of his cock grazing the curve of my butt below the high cut of my panties. I need to get out of my parents' bed without waking them but dad practically has me in a bear-hug. My leg moves, apparently of its own volition, feeling him brush against my skin, and something inside my squirms, reminding me how long it's been since I've been with another person. His cock presses harder against me and for a moment I think he's deliberately pushing, but he snores softly and I realise his cock is rising of its own accord. Maybe it'll go back down too. If I just close my eyes and pretend to sleep... at least I won't be held complicit if him or mom see what's happening.

I settle my head down and try to ignore the heavy press against my thighs, imagining it's not a comfortable position for his cock to be in. In front of me mom shifts her body an inch, moving closer but not waking. God this was a bad idea. I close my eyes, maybe I can just go back to sleep. I can't ignore that cock though, my pussy moistening, like the traitor she is, at the thought of getting stuffed. I think I've got it under control - if I can just wait it out it'll be fine.

Dad's hand moves from my tit to my hip and I jump, my legs parting enough for his erection to spring up between them and press against the crotch of my panties. It happens in a split second and leaves him trapped between my thighs, my pussy getting wetter at the thought of him so close. He snores and his hand shifts to the hem of my tee-shirt, slipping under it, his fingers grazing my skin.

I try to think of anything I can, anything but my father's cock just a thin scrap of cotton away from my pussy. I stare at my mother, praying she won't suddenly wake, or that maybe she will and I can feign sleep and she'll see what's happened and shoo dad off me... but I don't want that. My heart and my pussy coaxing my mind, telling me how good it feels to have a cock there again, and how bad it feels that it's dad's. It feels like there's a swamp in my panties.

My hips twitch and the last decent part of my mind can't believe what my body is doing. I bite my lip and feel that thick presence between my thighs, crossing my legs and squeezing gently, feeling it so hot and demanding.

"Daddy," I mouth, rolling my eyes up as I press back against him.

To my surprise he murmurs and his hand slides down to my thigh, pulling it back and up, his cock sliding forward against my pussy as he thrusts slowly, pressing against the wet crotch of my panties. He mutters something, his head moving to the nape of my neck, and then his snoring resumes.

My fingers reach down, every fibre of my body ignoring the tiny flicker of protest in whatever part of my brain is still registering propriety as I tease the top edge of my panties, biting my lip and slipping under the thin material to my stubbled mound. My fingers follow the familiar contours down and feel the unfamiliar shape pressing through against my knuckles. I graze my fingers against it, back and forth on the ridge at the base of his head while I bend one finger up to tease myself. This is such an incredibly bad idea.

Mom moves in front of me, closing the gap between us until I can look down the loose neckline of her top. I bite my lip and try to hold my breath but instead it comes in short, desperate pants, urgent and like each one could be my last.

The world is beginning to wake up, I can hear our neighbours outside, it won't be long before my parents' alarm goes off. I'll have to stop, I'll have to do something to get away, and then I can finish myself off in the shower, which will be wholly unsatisfying. First though, my depraved, deprived, mind suggests, first, just a touch, after-all when will I be in this position again?

I retract my hand from my panties and carefully reach down to pull them aside, my eyes locked on mom as I move, a cat burglar's stealth vying with the shaking hands and uncooperative muscles of a girl desperately horny and terrified of being caught. The wet, twisted crotch of my panties drags away from dad's cock, his breathing unchanging against the back of my neck, and then he's there, his cock-head bare, swollen, and hot against my lips. I can't believe daddy's touching me there, it's incredible. I can't help but stroke the underside of his head with my fingertips, feeling him wet. My fingers crawl back inside my underwear and circle my clit with dad's precum as my insides knot and groan.

Just the tip my mind whispers, and before I can refuse I edge my hips down a few inches and feel him enter me.

"Fuck," I exhale involuntarily, my hand shooting up from my panties to cover my mouth, my heart pounding like artillery.

Mom's eyes flicker open and a confused look crosses her face briefly before her expression softens and she smiles at me.

"Good morning honey," she says quietly, "it's been a while since you slept in our bed," she chuckles.

I try to smile innocently but my mind is frantically recanting every atheistic thought and utterance and silently praying to any god that'll listen, begging that my mother doesn't look down between our bodies to see my askew panties.

"Did you have a nightmare?" she asks, and I nod. "Oh sweetie," she sighs, "you are a little too old to be sleeping in our bed, but I won't tell your father if you don't," she winks and reaches around to hold me and pull me in to a hug.

The movement disturbs dad who presses up against my back, to my mother's amusement, and pushes his cock fully inside me. It's all I can do to bite my lip, my eyes wide as I stare over mom's shoulder, sandwiched between her and dad.

Their alarm goes off and mom releases me, rolling over and away to sit on the edge of the bed. Dad groans and moves, then I feel his body freeze, the shifting weight suggesting he's lifted his head, he pulls his cock from my pussy and I stifle a whimper, quickly straightening my panties to cover myself but aware of the huge wet spot between my legs.

"I better get ready for the library," I announce, jumping up and running off my parents' bed before mom turns from brushing her hair.

I collapse, panting on my own bed, my door shut securely behind me, a howling torrent of emotions racing through my mind and my heart feeling like it'll escape my chest altogether. I peel my wet underwear off, wondering what belongs to dad and what to me. Through the wall I can hear my parents muttering, then my mother laughing unexpectedly.

I need to get on with the day, try, as redundant as I know it'll be, try and forget what just happened. I collect my stuff and look around distractedly, trying to remember what I take to the bathroom each morning.

Through the wall my mother groans and the bed thumps. I pause, staring at the pale green space, unsure I really heard it. The bed thumps again and mom says something thump thump thump thump I can hear dad grunting and mom moaning, obviously enjoying themselves immensely. And I'm so fucking jealous.