Watching Their Passion

He awoke to a sound, he had been asleep. But now he could hear a deep, fierce moaning, almost animal in nature. Puzzled, he sat up and cocked his head to the sound. It was loud, it was raw, and it was coming from the wall that separated his room from his parents.

He understood immediately. His parents were having sex.

In a blink of an eye, without even consciously thinking about it, his young prick swelled with arousal, his heart thumping in his ears. His dad had just orgasmed, unloading into his mum with his throbbing cock. He hadn't even thought about them in that way before. But the images flashing into his mind as next door the bed springs slowly settled again was of his late 40's mum, small, with her perfect sized, even handfuls of breasts, laying naked on her back bathed in sweat as his similar aged dad pounded into her again and again, pushing in and out till he climaxed and fell onto her heaving tits, her fingers needing the broad flesh of his back, both of them taking in deep breaths, exhausted.

His hand immediately found his own swollen penis underneath his boxes and he began massaging it as it throbbed to full erection. He then gripped it firmly and began to move his hand up the shaft, over the head then back down to the base again. He was so turned on he came in moments, unsure of why he was so excited but knowing that nothing had aroused him like the sound of his own parents fucking in the next room. He let the small amount of juice that had come from the end of his cock soak into his boxes as he lay back down, amazed at what had just occurred and his own instant reaction to it.

His dad worked on a farm out of town and only came back in on weekends. It was a Friday night, his dad only coming back that evening. The next night he stayed awake, hoping to catch them out again. But he fell asleep still waiting, realising that his parents probably didn't have that big a sex drive to do it more than once in a couple of days.

He was right. Over the next few weeks he came to know their patterns well. His Dad would come home Friday night, his mum and dad would fuck that night, and then to his disappointment they would just sleep the other night of the weekend. Then his dad would leave late Sunday.

He had just turned 18 and was taking a year off from study before going to university. Each Friday he would lay in bed waiting for the sounds of their lovemaking to become loud enough to carry through his walls and to his ears as he lay in bed masturbating to the images his strong imagination would conjure up to match the sounds, hand gripping his shaft and pumping up and down, his foreskin working overtime. Once they had turned the lights out so that only their lamp would cast a dim light over their room it would usually take about 30 minutes of foreplay before they would couple and start the bedsprings going.

It was an old bed, with broken springs and a creaky wooden frame that would set a background music to their opera of fucking. After the 30 to 40 minutes of foreplay his mum would come, making small, high, feminine moans and he imagined his dad using his hands to make sure his lovely wife came first.

He imagined his dad's calloused fingers caressing her lips, then parting them open and gently easing in and out of her pussy while another finger probed and played with her clit.

Or maybe he went down on her and went to work with his tongue, lapping up her juices and sucking on her clit whilst she clenched and unclenched her tiny hands in his hair till she peaked. Then he imagined that his dad would spread her knees wide and slowly slide his cock into her wet mound as she recovered from her own orgasm and prepared to return the favour.

It was strange but he could only imagine them having sex in the missionary position.

Then his dad would fuck her with strong powerful thrusts till his own climax was reached, where he would moan with each last thrust, getting the bedsprings and bed boards to their loudest before spending himself inside her.

He began to get more bold, yearning to hear more and discover more about his parent's sexcapades. As soon as their door would close he would immediately jump from his bed and run to his door, pressing his ear to the crack at the bottom where he could see the soft lamplight spilling out from under theirs.

He would hear as they talked about their week and undress. Then he would hear the covers being pulled right back, it being the middle of summer, and the bed creak gently as they both got in and started their foreplay. Towards the end of the 30 minutes he would hear loud sucking noises, adding to his imagination's theory of his dad going down on his mum to make her cum first.

And constantly there was the rustling, of bodies on bedding, and the sounds of hands on skin and limbs entwined. They were active in bed, always with their hands roving over the others body, responding to each others arousal.

Their son's imagination painted a picture of his dad's hands caressing his mother's back, up her milky white thighs, caressing and grasping her arse and fondling her breasts and nipples. His mum's roaming over his dad's back, massaging each cheek and then caressing and manipulating the thin skin of his sack, his testicles inside it and the shaft and throbbing head of his experienced penis.

These sounds would all gradually build in intensity till the moment his mum came, then the sounds coming from the next room would become frantic as his dad mounted his mum till his own orgasm would grip him, taking hold of his cock and pumping himself into her.

Always he returned to his bed, hand on cock, feeling the same arousal that had been climaxed in the next room and bringing himself to a similar conclusion.

One day, while searching for something in their office, he found an old hand held sound recorder his older sister had used to record lectures at uni and it gave him an idea.

He bought a couple of batteries and two blank tapes, then he waited for Friday night. By this time he'd grown tired of just listening at his door. He wanted more.

At about 9:30 that night he retreated to his own bedroom and left his parents to watch one of their boring shows on TV. He was shaking with anticipation. Right before their last show ended at 10:00pm he slipped into their room. He could see them curled up in each others arms on the sofa, watching the final plot developments in some crappy English crime drama in the lounge down the end of the hall. He quietly lifted the mattress, clicked the device to record with the 45 minute per side tape inside and slid it deep into the middle of the bed, between the boards and the mattress. He let the mattress drop and slipped back into his own bedroom, shutting his door and eagerly awaiting their night's bout of lovemaking, his cock already half erect with anticipation.

It seemed like forever as they switched off the TV, the lights to other rooms and brushed their teeth and got themselves ready for bed, all the while he could hear his mum's quiet murmurings and his dad's deep replies. He couldn't wait for those voices to be used for something else.

Sure enough they began making love and he heard their hands roaming over each other and tried to imagine something new which they could be doing.

Maybe it was his mum's turn to go down and orally pleasure her husband, where she would be naked sitting on her knees on the mattress at the end of the bed, her breasts sitting perky and full inspite of having four kids, bathed in lamplight, while his dad lay on his back with his head on a pillow, lovingly staring down in anticipation.

Then maybe she would hungrily seize his flaccid penis in one hand and slowly bring her mouth down over the top, gently sucking on it and kissing it to its full size. Their son imagined standing naked at the foot of their bed behind his mum as she did this, watching his mum's white cheeks bob up and down as her head bobbed up and down on his dad's shaft and massaging his own aroused cock at the sight.

Seeing her lips slowly part in arousal, seeing a tiny bit of glistening wetness as she got turned on by the reaction she was making in his dad. Then his dad might turn her around, and, placing a hand on each white thigh, he wcould slowly spread her apart and gently kiss her wet opening. His dad's eyes could watch her peach like cheeks quiver with anticipation as he gently pulled her open and probe her wetness with his tongue. She might moan a little and press her womanhood down onto his awaiting tongue, forcing his head back into the pillow as he eagerly responded, working her clit with his moist tongue, tasting her excitement while working two fingers into her hole and finger fucking her in and out.

From this view their son would now be able to see his mum working on his dad's erect rod, seeing her small mouth opening and swallowing the head, then inch after inch of the shaft till there was nothing left but the curly mass of dark hair at its base, then she might slowly bring it back out with a moist "pop" where it would shine glistening with his mums saliva in the lamplight.

He'd be able to see her breasts, those beautifully mature, full globes, with their perfect pink nipples becoming even further peaked by his dad's oral pleasuring of her opening.

His dad would bring her to the peak of the mountain that would become her building arousal, where she'd make her precise, feminine moans which built in to one, louder, unrestrained expression of pleasure, and it would now be time for him to enter her.

His dad would lay her gently on her back and eagerly probe her with his head, gripping his hard shaft and stroking her lips with his swelled cock, still wet with her saliva and his own precum, then he'd position himself on top of her, craning his neck down to take one of her erect pink nipples into his mouth and sliding his tongue over and around it whilst gently sucking it and teasing it with his teeth as he slid his cock deep into her, to thrust in and out with the strong muscles of his hips, arse and thighs as his wife arched her back and let him have her.

As his dad came to the end of his restraint his thrusts would suddenly become explosive, his cock burying deeper and deeper into her with each last thrust and he'd moan his deep animal bellow as they both crashed the bed into oblivion.

All of this is imagination created from the sounds that drifted from their bedroom.

He timed his parents once, reading that the average time a male in his late 40's lasted was 2 and a half minutes. He watched the clock tick upwards with pride and arousal as his own dad lasted 5 and a half minutes before exploding into his mum with animal moans and chaotic banging into the bed. He couldn't wait to hear it on tape.

He grabbed a sock and returned to his own bed naked, tugging furiously at his raging hard-on, his own arousal bursting from his developing body, hearing his mum's moans again and again in his head as he did so till he exploded into the white sock, enthusiastically missing the first few spurts as he felt the intense pleasure of orgasm, before catching the rest in the sock and catching his breath.

As he slowly went limp, the same as his father was doing still inside his mum's pussy, nestled between her open legs, his foreskin once again covered his head and he wiped himself off and cleaned up what he had missed, eagerly going to sleep and dreaming of the chance to get to the tape recorder and hear his prize.

The next morning, when his parents had woken and left to take care of whatever errands they had he slipped back into their room with anticipation, reaching in under the mattress and grasping hold of his prize. He then went back into his room and rewound the tape, his cock starting to swell and grow inside his pants with the sounds he knew the tape would contain as he slipped it into his hi-fi system and pressed rewind.

The player continued to whir and then with a sudden click it was done. He reached out a slightly trembling finger and pressed play.

The sound he heard was even clearer than he'd hoped. He heard them getting ready for bed and the sounds of them taking their clothes off and climbing onto the mattress, the rustling of fabric on skin, of clothes dropping to the floor and of the old bed springs protesting as the two naked bodies settled into each others embrace on top.

Their son stripped himself naked and listened as the night's previous activities came to life in his imagination, images of his own mother being poleaxed by his father, each driven to a frenzy by the sheer force of each other's arousal before exploding and moaning as they came.

He was so turned on he turned the volume up as loud as it would go, the sounds echoing through the whole house, before running into their room, leaping naked onto their bed and grinding himself into his mother's pillow, thrusting his throbbing, erect shaft and swelled head into it in time with his father's own passion, imaging he could smell on it their sex and coming at the exact time that on the recording he heard his father make his mum moan, coming like his father had done in that exact spot, inside his mum, the night before.

Each weekend now he would record their lovemaking, playing it back and stroking his cock each night of the week, till his dad came back home for him to make a fresh one. He grew bolder with his listening, building up the courage to silently open his bedroom door and creep into the hall to settle down right outside their door, bending his head down to watch and listen to their every move.

He'd watch their feet as they undressed, watching each item of clothing fall to the floor.

His mum's jeans and top. He imagined her standing there in nothing but her underwear. He could only see her half of the room from where he crouched.

Then her bra would fall and he imagined her breasts spilling free and settling over her chest, beautiful orbs of white, then she'd step out of her panties and stand uncovered, her son's eyes watching her feet step towards the bed and climb in as her underwear fell around her, naked, watching the bed's base move a little, hearing the sounds coming from the room with crystal clarity as she did so, all this happening so tantalisingly close to his eyes, yet just out of reach, separated by a wooden bedroom door just two inches thick.

Or sometimes she would be dressed in a cream silk slip with a dressing gown over the top. He longed to see her wearing only that around the house but she never did. It would have reached just below her mound, leaving the beautiful white curves of her small round butt peaking from its bottom.

If wearing that she would just slip out of her robe and climb into bed, then midway through his parent's lovemaking he would hear a rustle of silk on skin and watch it fall to the floor.

Also from this bold new position, added to the crystal clear sounds of their lips kissing each other and each other's bodies, their hands roaming all over each other, their legs coiling and curling over and through the others and over the fabric of their bedding and their breathing becoming deeper and deeper, expelled with more and more force, he could also see the bed begin to move once the foreplay was finished, his dad had made his mum cry in orgasmic rapture and they had begun to fuck. He'd see the bed tremble slightly as his dad mounted and slid his shaft inside his mum, then it would begin to rhythmically shake and rock, making tiny creaking noises. As the sounds that escaped them in their passion became less restrained and more frequent, so too would the bed begin to shake more violently and protest louder till those final thrusts, when he knew his dad was driving his rigid, firm shaft deepest, his dad's head ploughing his mum at its strongest, when the bed would near lift off the ground at the strength of his father's thrusting.

When he replicated the scene in his imagination and on top of his mother's pillow in the middle of their bed, where he'd imagined they'd coupled just the night before, he would try to get the bed as loud as it was when they fucked, but to no avail. Nothing short of jumping on it could make it reproduce the same beautiful music.

But he yearned to see more. He began to leave them in the lounge earlier in the night, hoping that when they eventually retired to their own room to join in coupling that they would be careless and leave the door to their bedroom open.

Then, when he would hear the light switch off and the bed creak as his dad climbed in to begin to caress and arouse his mother he could silently twist the nob of his door and quietly pull it open. He imagined slowly leaning his head around the door frame and seeing their naked bodies entwined, their skin bare to him, their lovemaking in plain sight.

Seeing his father's hips rise and fall in the air as he plunged his cock into his mum's hole, seeing her knees in the air and splayed wide to accommodate the full length of her husband's hard member, her breasts flowing over her chest, beautiful and erotic in the way they swayed, seeing her head tilt back in pleasure, her neck arched, accenting the curves of her breasts and their glorious, pink, button like nipples.

But this never eventuated and he knew that if he wanted to see more he would have to go about it himself.

His idea was simple in its plan, but never even considered by their son due to a lack of courage. How could he explain to them if he were caught? How would he explain that he longed to be in the room with them when they had sex, longed to be sitting naked at the foot of their bed while they brought each other to arousal and climax, massaging his own prick and coming at the same time they did?

His parents went out to dinner with friends one Friday night leaving him home alone. He rarely went out with his own friends on a Friday night, his need to hear his parent's lovemaking overriding everything else. Once their car had pulled out of the drive and driven off he went to work putting his plan in place, high on adrenaline.

He switched off all the lights in the house, simulating the house as it would be when they would be stroking and kissing each other to an animal frenzy behind closed doors in their bedroom.

Then he turned on the bedside lamp that they'd leave on during sex and went to the curtains of the window which had been drawn by his mother when she was changing to go out.

He ever so slightly pulled them apart, then went outside and down the side of the house to their window and peaked in, judging what he could see.

He had to be careful, making the gap in the closed curtain wide enough for him to view them in union on the bed, but not too wide as to arouse suspicions, or just make his mum think she hadn't closed them properly and pull them shut.

Moving back into their room he closed them a little, shortening the gap, thinking it too suspicious. Then he returned the inside of the house back to normal, switched off his mother's bedside lamp and switched on the TV to wait.

At 10pm he retreated to his room and put on a jumper, warm pants and thick socks on his feet to be quieter than shoes as they'd crunch against the sand. He switched off his own light and lay on top of his bed, waiting.

AS he waited he slid his hand inside his pants and massaged his semi hard cock, already dripping with precum, such was the level of his arousal at what he may see as he watched from their bedroom window.

Soon enough, at about 10:30pm, he heard their car return and pull into their garage and he pulled his hand from off of his already near climaxing shaft and focused on what he needed to do to pull off his plan. He needed to be calm and collected if he was to succeed.

His parents didn't even turn any of the house lights on, just locked the front door and went straight to their bedroom and closed the door. Like a flash he was up, quickly crossing to his own door and carefully edging it open. He resisted the urge to stay and listen at their door, instead stepping quietly down the passage and to the side door of the house through the laundry. He slid the glass sliding door open, inch by inch to stop it making any noise, and made a gap just large enough for his body to slip through.