It took me a while but I finally figured out why on every other Wednesday my father didnât feel well and retired to his room early. It was a routine like clockwork. He would come home and after the meal spend about half an hour watching the news. Then he would tell my mother that he wasnât feeling well and go to his room. My mother normally spends time in the kitchen cleaning dishes but on those days she would follow him after clearing the table and leave the dishes in the sink. She would then come back out after about half an hour and continue with her tasks.
One weekend as I was finishing up my yard clean up duty outside my parentsâ bedroom, I realized that one of the curtain hooks on their side door had fallen off, leaving the curtain hanging at such an awkward angle that it made it possible to look inside even when the curtain was fully drawn. I had a clear view of their bed and the thought came to my mind that I could finally see if my assumption was correct.
Next time my father wasnât feeling well and after my mother went to the room, I quickly snuck out and went to the yard to peep in on them. There wasnât that much light in the room to make it possible to see their features, but the dim nightlight made it possible for me to see my father on top of my mother and the middle of the sheet that was covering them bouncing up and down. My assumption proved to be true as I watched my father having sex with my mother. I was puzzled as to why he was doing it under the sheet, but somehow I was also relieved because this spared me from having to see him going in and out of my mother. Although I couldnât stop myself from picturing his hard cock pressing the inside of my motherâs vagina, her warm and wet pussy engulfing his dick in its soft fold, her mouth ajar and her lips quivering at the sensations emanating from her privates. I tried to see her face to figure out what feelings she may be showing on it as he slid up and down inside her but her eyes was focused on the ceiling and his arm was shielding her mouth from my view.
I was afraid of getting caught. I didnât know what I would do if they realized that I was watching them. I didnât even know what they would do if they caught me peeping in. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I felt guilty at invading their privacy. I knew that it would be very difficult to face them, especially face my mother, if she found me looking at her when she was in such a vulnerable position.
I ran as I heard a slight noise. It was a cat or something. Whatever it was, it startled and unnerved me. I felt like I had been caught and I not only had to run but I had to hide from them. The prospect of facing my mom that night when she were to come back out was very uncomfortable. I felt so guilty that I knew even if she didnât realize I was watching them, she would clearly see it on my face and that would be the same as getting caught. I had to hide from her and get a hold of myself, so I, too, retired to my room pretending to be not feeling well, although I didnât tell anyone in particular.
I listened for her to come back out and relaxed when I heard her making cleaning noises in the kitchen. Everything was normal, I told myself to calm myself down. I knew that if she followed her routine of cleaning the dishes and going to either watch TV in the living room or to her room to sleep, it would mean everything was okay.
Instead she came to my room. I panicked and hid myself under the sheet. She opened my door and asked, âAre you okay?â
âYes, mom. I am okay.â I replied. My words were getting stuck in my throat and that was a dead giveaway that I was not okay.
She came inside and sat next to me. She removed the covers from my face and felt my forehead. âWhatâs wrong?â She asked. âYou came to bed so early.â
âIâŠuhâŠam not feeling so good.â I made something up.
She looked at me very seriously and after a long pause, she asked, âWhy, was it so bad?â
I froze. I was caught. She did know I was outside her room. As a last ditch effort, I muttered, âWhat was so bad?â
She smiled and rubbed her hand on my chest. âWhat you saw a while ago.â
I pulled the covers back on my face in utter embarrassment. âMom!â I exclaimed, not knowing what else to do. I felt ashamed.
She jerked the covers off and patted my cheek. âCome, Come. No need to be embarrassed. Itâs okay.â Then she got up and she was gone.
I spent the rest of the night trying to collect myself.
I felt uneasy for a day or two after that but when I realized that her attitude towards me was no different than before, I eased up. By the time my father didnât feel well again, I had actually put it out of my mind completely.
As she followed him this time, she whispered to me, âGive me about five minutes to get ready.â
I wasnât ready for that. I was actually shocked that she was letting me know, or rather she was asking me to come and watch them. I didnât know what to make of it. But the thought that this time I could watch them without the fear of getting caught became somewhat exciting.
She had left the curtain open a bit more than usual so I could see easily the entire scene and there was more light in the room so I was able to see their features. When I made it there, my father was already pumping away. I felt a bit disappointed because I had missed the buildup part. He was still covered in the sheet but she had lifted the sheet from the side that was visible to me. She was holding it in her hand as it rested on his side. One of her legs was outside to make sure I was able to see some of the action and as my father moved, the sheet moved up with him, revealing all of her body to me.
She must have sensed my presence because when I first looked in, she was a bit limp, but soon thereafter she became more animated. She pulled her knees up towards her chest. This thrust her pelvis up and made it possible for me to clearly see his cock going in and out of her pussy. I was fascinated. She also reached out and held her heels with her hands, allowing me to get a clear view of her tits as they bobbed with his thrusts. I couldnât believe the incredible hard-on I got from looking at her erect nipples, her flattened stomach, her wet pussy, and her shapely legs. I could see the lips of her cunt stretching up against his penis as he pulled out and being pushed down inward as he pumped in. His thick penis was glistening in the light due to her juices soaking it wet.
It was over soon though. My fatherâs body jerked a couple of times as he climaxed. She could no longer keep her pelvis thrust up as his body weighed heavily on her. As her legs stretched across the bed, the sheet fell from her hand hiding everything from my view, almost like the curtain had come down on the show. I sensed a shadow spread across her face. Something told me I should go, and I did.
As I lay in my bed, I expected her to come out as usual, but for some reason she didnât. I waited for the noise to start in the kitchen, it didnât. I expected her to come to my room as she had the last time, but she didnât. All I heard was the noise the house plumbing usually makes when someone is taking a shower. I closed my eyes as the scene I had witnessed played in my mind over and over. I was still hard under my covers and I reached in and held my throbbing cock in my hand as the projector in my brain played the picture of her writhing body on the screens of my eyelids.
I dozed off while still hard and still holding my throbbing cock. For a change, I didnât want to masturbate and get rid of the burning liquid. I just wanted to lay there and soak the feelings in. What the feelings were, I didnât know, but they sure were sweet as I looked on. I looked on my motherâs body, the sexy pose of her hands as they held those ankles, the breasts as they moved around, and the glistening cock as it must have sent those same sweet feeling that I was feeling through their bodies. In a way I felt connected to both of them because their feelings must have been the same.
I came back to earth when I sensed someone in my room. I didnât hear her come in but when I opened my eyes I found her leaning against the dresser. I donât know how long she had been standing there but I knew that she had been standing there for a while looking at me. I was still holding my cock and it was still hard.
Her neatly combed hair was still wet from the shower she must have taken and drops of water were falling onto her nightgown. Her hands were folded across her chest and just below her breasts, pushing them slightly up and giving them a fuller than usual look. I had seen those breasts earlier and it was easy for my imagination to see her standing their without the nightgown, almost like I could see through her clothing. She wasnât wearing a bra as I could see her nipples pressing through the wet nightgown. She also wasnât wearing any panties either, I surmised, as I failed to see any panty line under the thin, silky material. She was deep in thought as she examined the nails on one of her hands. The shadow on her face was longer than it had been earlier. There was a frown on her brow and her lips were pulled in tight under some emotional toll.
I laid there holding my throbbing cock with my never-ending erection, contemplating whether I should keep holding on to it or let go as a respect for her presence. I didnât want to draw attention to it, so I kept holding on and waited for her to say something. She said nothing. She stood there examining her nails, throwing a glance now and then towards me, but saying nothing. I guessed that may be she was waiting for me to say something to her, but I had nothing to say.
Finally, after an eternity and a half, she broke the silence. âSo, whatâd you think?â
âThink about what?â I whispered back.
âAbout what you saw?â
I contemplated an answer, but I didnât know what exactly was she asking.