An eighteen year old girl's bed frame should not bounce against the wall that separates her bedroom from her parent's. Sometimes, a girl just has to do what a girl has to do, and I figured that my parents would know what was causing the bumping sounds. Oh well, I'm old enough that I should not be embarrassed if my parents know that I masturbate.
Truth be told, the idea of them listening was intensifying my experience. The idea that my Dad's cock might be stiffening as he imagined my nipples erect, my cunt wet, my fingers caressing my swollen clit provoked exactly those feelings in me.
I was a bit shocked, because I had never thought that way before, but really it was all my mother's fault. A few hours after dinner, since I had no date and was all done my homework, she had suggested that the three of us all watch a movie together, like we used to before I got old enough to babysit, and then of course, date. So they settled in their sweatpants and T shirts on the love seat and I snuggled up in the big arm chair, wearing only a long sleep shirt. Having just showered, I was not even wearing panties, so at least at first, I was very cautious to make sure that the tail of the shirt stayed tucked under my butt. With the lights dimmed, the small amount of the curve of my ass that my Daddy might notice was not very visible, but I was not planning to flash him my freshly trimmed cunt.
One thing that Mom did that was different from when I was younger was that when she poured the wine for herself and Daddy, she poured a third glass.
"The alcohol will make you crave salt," she said as she passed me the drink. "Help yourself to popcorn."
I wished at that moment that she had provided me with a bowl of my own. Instead, to get a handful, I would have to lean forward and reach across in front of my parents. Goodness only knows how much of my butt they would see, and if the light shone just right, or wrong, I suppose, Daddy would be treated to a view of the silhouette of my firm young tits. I thought how embarrassing that would be, so hoped no one would comment if it happened. I noticed though that my nipples stiffened a bit at the thought. All the more reason to be cautious.
Mom's choice of movie shocked me. Though billed as a thriller, she must have missed the qualifier "erotic" before the "thriller" in the listings. Even more shocking, this was not some mainstream titillation, this was pretty much soft core porn, with full frontal female nudity, lots of making out, and simulated sex acts. As a result, the hard bumps on the front of my sleep shirt never had a chance to subside.
Not being used to strong drink, the wine went to my head, and as Mom had warned, I craved salt. I did manage to resist until after the scene where the starlet dropped to her knees and apparently sucked off the cock of the detective character. At least, I guessed that was what her head was doing bobbing up and down in his lap under his desk.
As the movie cut toward a talky exposition scene, I seized the moment to grab some popcorn. Leaning over, I noticed that Mom had snuggled so tightly with Daddy that her boob was pressed hard to his bicep. Her fingers were massaging his leg just above his knee. Daddy's hand was even higher up inside Mom's thigh.
I kept my eyes on the screen and the popcorn bowl from that point, hoping that Daddy was also paying attention to the movie, and not looking at how I was blushing, or, even worse, staring at my tits or watching how the fabric rode along the curve of my hips as I moved.
As I settled back into my chair, what I noticed was that Mom was staring at my legs, her eyes shifting just enough to trace the line of my athletic limbs up to where the shirt covered my quim. I hoped that I just imagined that her tongue flicked out to wet her lips at that moment. She jerked her head around to watch more of the movie, I guess to prevent our gaze from meeting. A strange warmth was spreading down my belly to my loins. I hoped that it was just the wine.
The sexual tension was not helped by the fact that the movie had already moved to a scene where our heroine was making out with the "black widow spider" character suspected of murdering her husband for his money. The two actresses - one blond and curvy like Marilyn Monroe, the other dark and lean, both with obviously fake ginormous boobs, started with just an accidental touch of hand against neck, followed by a brushing aside of hair, a kiss along the neck ending with a nibble of the earlobe. I squirmed in my seat as the film dissolved ahead to the scene in the bedroom, both actresses disrobed, kissing on the bed, the aggressive widow fondling the more shy blonde's breasts, eventually leaning down to kiss each nipple.
By this point, just watching the film with my parents was embarrassing. The strange feelings in my body were even more confusing. After all, I did not like girls, I was straight. I was almost sure of it. Maybe it was a need for reassurance that made me look over to my parents at that moment. I hoped they were not watching me, but if they were, I hoped that they were not upset.
There was no need to worry, but what I saw was even more disturbing. My Mom was nibbling my Daddy's ear just like the evil bitch in the movie had done to her victim. Her hand was now right up inside Daddy's thigh, and she seemed to be rubbing his groin. Daddy's hand was up under my Mom's robe, so I could not see where it was, but Mom was rotating her hips and moaning just like the blonde in the movie, who was now being eaten out by the widow.
It was all I could do to prevent my own fingers from brushing my nipples, and then inevitably snaking up under the hem of my sleep shirt, caressing my own thighs, fingers pushing into my cunt, thumb twiddling my cit, which was already twitching untouched as I squirmed. This is why adult girls should not watch dirty movies with their parents, because my need to get off was undeniable, and the movie was not even half over.
Fortunately, as the blonde climaxed with a moan matched in intensity by Mom, the film faded back into the thriller plot, the detective, pants zipped, interviewing witnesses, and then confronting the suspect. Of course, instead of having her brought to the station to be sweated in an interrogation room, he went to her mansion, the one that had belonged to her dead husband. The one with the big bed where she had pleasured the blonde, whose enthusiasm to assist the detective had faded afterwards.
Mom laughed from deep in her chest when the widow greeted the cop, saying "well if it isn't the Big Dick."
I couldn't help snickering at the line, and that made both my parents swivel there heads, as if they had totally forgotten that I was there. I hoped that the dim light hid my blush. Mom stood, shaking her clothes back into order, and poured us each anther glass of wine. My body shivered as her hand brushed mine passing me my glass. Quickly turning my face to watch the movie and hide my confused sexual excitement, I saw that the woman had not led the detective to that big bed as I expected. Instead, they were in some sort of greenhouse, she was laying back on a table, and her thighs were wrapped around his ears.
Subtle rustling of fabric drew my gaze back to my parents on the love seat. Luckily Mom's body shielded me from seeing what I knew she was doing - her hand was inside Daddy's sweatpants and I knew from the elbow action that she was stroking his cock, which I imagined to be quite stiff. I did not know whether she had tugged him out of the clothing, and whether I would be seeing the forbidden fuck tool if her body was not screening my view.
