I was back home visiting my parents. I was upstairs using the bathroom, when I noticed a magazine on their night table. On the front was a half naked lady, clearly showing of her inner thigh and bust. It clearly wasn't my business what my parents read at night, so I passed it without further investigation.
As I was on the toilet though, I started getting horny. I don't know why. Usually a little skin is something I can forego without any thought, but this evening I couldn't. My heart was pounding harder and my body almost shaking with hormones.
So, without thinking it through, I quickly borrowed my parents magazine, and went back to the bathroom to masturbate. I pulled down my pants and started rubbing my cock while looking through the magazine. I just had to be quick and get this hornyness out of my system.
I was close to cumming, when my mother knocked on the bathroom door: "Honey, are you all right? You've been in there quite some time now."
I lost concentration on what I was doing. "I'm okay, I just have to finish..." I stammered.
"Oh my god, honey, are you masturbating?" My mother questioned: "Isn't it uncomfortable doing it in the bathroom? Wouldn't you rather sit somewhere more relaxed?"
I lost all focus. How did she know? And couldn't she just have kept it inside? I couldn't continue after this.
"No, no, I'll be down in a second" I yelled to her.
I pulled up my pants, washed my hands, and tried to exit the bathroom in a discreet manner.
When I came down, my parents were sitting in the sofa. My mother looked emphatically at me and said: "It's okay honey, though it is a kind of weird thing to be doing while you're here?"
"Well, sometimes a man just have to get it out, right son?" my father put in: "Did it help?"
I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I must have been redder than a beet at this moment. There was no sense in denying what I had been doing, and now they were asking even more embarrassing questions.
"Your fathers right, I don't want you to be embarrassed by your body or your needs. We all have them." My mother continued: "So, did it help?"
She looked at me with a loving smile. I tried to get some words out, but didn't know how.
"Oh, did I interrupt you? Didn't you get to finish?"
"Well that's no good son," my father said with half-hearted concern "you should go up and finish. You can use the guestroom."
"Do you want me to help?" My mother asked in a sincere tone.