Oh, the nights I used to lie awake desperate to hear mum and dad do something sexual! Those dirty little whispers…my two lovely parents using language they’d never dream of using in front of us. Dad’s mellifluous chuckle as he called mum “…a fucking whore” or mum kissing him and interspersing it with (oh fuck..I’ve only just this second realised what she was kissing!) “Oh, your cock’s so fucking hard (kiss) so wet (kiss) so salty. Hurt me with it.”
Sometimes, I didn’t dare breathe in case I missed a word.
But that, dear reader, was totally separate from when I had my hand between my legs. Oh, I didn’t talk out loud…well, not much, anyway… but when I came, I certainly did emit some strange noises, gasps, moans and the occasional “ohh fuck….fuuuuuck.” And I had an absolute belief that they couldn’t be heard next door! How, for a moment, I thought that if I could hear them, they couldn’t hear me, I really don’t know, but that’s what I thought. Maybe at that age, a girl thinks wishing will make it so.
Alison had a room across the hall. She couldn’t hear mum and dad having sex, but then no one could hear her masturbating either. I think, on the whole, I was the luckier girl. I wouldn’t have missed my indirect sex Ed for the world.
For example, I learned that couples don’t simply fuck. Many times, my parents had sex together without penetration. Sometimes, it would be oral, sometimes mutual masturbation, but sometimes they would masturbate for each other. I know for a fact that sometimes mum would masturbate for dad, and dad would masturbate for mum. What a beautiful thing to do.
They had a rich, wide variety of role plays for every aspect of their sex lives, and nothing, absolutely nothing was off limits.
One night, dad’s brother (my uncle) and his wife and daughter had been staying over for a weekend. We don’t see them much as they live overseas. Their daughter Kim was growing into a really good-looking girl and at 17 she was definitely a head-turner. Mum had noticed dad’s attempts at surreptitiously looking at Kim and had carefully steered him into a role play that was on his mind anyway. As she went down on him she said “Imagine Kim’s doing this…her mouth round your cock…in fact….call me Kim.”
Mum once told me “Imagine a man having sex with you, but he’s secretly thinking about someone else. Wouldn’t that feel tacky? Having the fantasy out in the open is much more exciting, much more honest. I can role play with your dad, pretending to be someone else, then I can have sex with him as me and believe me, I always win!” It’s a thought, isn’t it?
From my mum I think I learned total freedom in sex. In a relationship or married, your sexual radar never sleeps. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you will never find anyone else in the world sexually attractive again and to say you wouldn’t, well, that’s a lie.
Last week Emily told me of a new girl in the office. She’s only 18, and an intern, called Sammy. Em has a photo of Sammy on her phone and I can quite see the attraction. There is an air of sexuality about Sammy, and to say she has ‘come-to-bed’ eyes, doesn’t do them justice. I decided to take a leaf out of mum’s book. I got Em to lie on the bed in just her panties and our soft, pink blindfold on. Then I let Miss Brain create a scenario with Sammy for Emily. People here have been sweet enough to tell me I’m a reasonable story teller, so I created a scene where Sammy caught Emily rubbing one out in the restroom. Slowly, bit by bit, I tweaked things until I was Sammy. When I lifted Emily’s hand off the bed and placed it over my (wet) panties and whispered “I’ve never been touched by another girl before” Emily exploded in orgasm. How could I deny her that? Would I really have preferred her hiding away somewhere and frantically rubbing one off hoping I didn’t discover her? No. That’s not the way to go
I suppose some of you might say “Ah, but what if Emily actually wants to sleep with Sammy? What then?” If so, do you think I could stop her? I’ve said this before. The bedrock of our relationship is pure, unconditional love, and it’s the unconditional word that’s important. Ours isn’t a relationship where there are prohibitions. “I will love you as long as you don’t……etc”
Another example. While off on a week-long conference, Emily was a keynote speaker, delivering several speeches and running seminars. The hotel she was staying in was, as most are these days, staffed by Latin American people being paid a pittance. On her third day there, she had phoned room service for some extra towels. (I guessed what they were for!) and a pretty English girl had brought them. She was, Emily discovered, the only English girl working in the hotel as a chamber maid.
Emily is one of those girls who is so easy to talk to, and Em had made her a coffee and listened as this girl poured out how lonely she was. “ There are three of us to a room, two Latina girls and me. The other girls speak Spanish, and they ignore me. All the boys want is to get into my panties. I wouldn’t mind that, but I know where it ends up,-my reputation as a slag!” Emily hugged her and asked if she’d ever thought of being with a girl. Like many of us, it turned out there had been a few experimental fumblings in high school, but nothing beyond a secret kiss and a little touching over clothes.
An hour later, the girl had discovered most of the delights of girl/girl sex. My wife had masturbated her (just as well there were extra towels. Clearly the girl hadn’t had a decent cum for a while) given her oral sex, let the girl lick Emily out and finger her off. Was I jealous? Hell no! I know what Emily is like in bed, and it’s true, she can be a real tiger, but she can also be a gentle and encouraging lover as well. She gave this kid precisely what she needed, some warm companionship. And it made me horny as hell too!
Emily and I have zero secrets. None whatsoever. We share everything, every desire, every thought. That’s not to say it’s ‘Yes’ to everything though. Very, very rarely, one of us might suggest something the other isn’t comfortable with, but even there it’s never a flat ‘no’. Usually, it’s more of a ‘not yet’.
But back to the 14/15 year old me. Can you remember how rampantly horny you were at that age? Tig tells me that it’s testosterone that causes the sex drive. Weird, I thought only boys have that and I told her so. When she stopped laughing she asked me an interesting question. “Pick your horniest day….the day you felt like you’d die if you didn’t have sex…or at least a bloody good orgasm. How did it feel?” I remembered days like that easily because I still have them. “I felt…..like a predator….like a T-Rex stalking my territory. It almost felt like a towering rage inside me. A white hot river of lava that demanded release.”
“And that, my lovely was the result of a rise in testosterone inside you so tiny it would be difficult to measure it. Now imagine what it’s like for an adolescent boy suddenly flooded with this stuff in far greater quantities!”
Boys bedamned; I sure as hell remember endless days of damp panties, the need to masturbate two, three or more times. And at night, listening avidly to mum and dad, hoping, wondering what tonight’s installment would be and hoping it wasn’t just romantic sex. I craved the perversity element, and when I worked out that our panties were being used, I could have burst with pride.
A friend told me “I noticed mum always gives my undies a quick sniff when she puts them in the washing machine. I thought it was yucky, so I asked her about it. She said ‘I’m just making sure it’s just you in there.’” I realised that on my heavier wet days she thought it might be sperm.” Well, I know my dad certainly made use of our panties, but it wasn’t always us that was the focus of the role play. Sometimes our panties would be used as Kim’s. Dad knows mum’s scent well, and a slightly different scent added to the fantasy.
But there I am. 14/15, lying on top of my bed and on top of a large bath towel. I’m dressed only in my trainer bra and white panties that I wore at school today. They are damp and smell musky. I like that scent, it’s warm and evocative, and uniquely mine. I know this scent is what attracts boys, and I’ve heard that if you let a boy touch you there, he will try to use his non-dominant hand, so when he jacks off later, he can smell you on his fingers. The room is dark, and there isn’t a sound coming from the climate control.
I strain to listen and it seems like I’ve opened a channel to next door. Voices that were muffled become clear as I hone in on them. ‘…..just imagine what she’s doing right now. Lying there, her hand touching her little breasts. (I copy the suggestion). You know, they may be small, but small boobs can be exquisitely arousing. (Preaching to the choir, mum). I bet she’s wet too. I’ve noticed her panties have become increasingly wet over the last few months. No, I don’t think she’s having sex yet…well….not with anyone else, only with herself.”
“There. See? Her hand inside the waistband of her panties. Oh look….she’s found her clit. I don’t think she’s using anything inside yet…she’s still a virgin, but one day soon, I suspect I’ll notice a candle go missing. Yes, a lot of girls take care of their own hymen. She’s masturbating….this isn’t just an itch….your daughter is being sexual. See how she’s spread her legs, opening herself up. I bet she’s thinking of a boy she likes…..(close, mum, but not quite right) …see her breathing? If you were in there watching her, I think you’d see a large, wet stain on her panties, just like the one on the panties in your hand. Go on. Smell her. Inhale her. See how grown up she is now.
Her vagina made that mess….her…hmmm I wonder what she calls it when she wants to be dirty? Her Twat? Her hole? Or maybe….her cunt? Yes, I think she’d want to be as naughty as possible. Oh, do you think she listens to us having sex? (Mum, you’ve no idea! It’s like a radio program every night a different installment) She lies there listening to us fucking, rubbing herself off. Maybe she’s thinking about you fucking her. Getting your cock up her, tight, virgin hole….well….not now, obviously, but you never know what the future may bring. (No, mum. You never do).
Are you nearly there? Well, when you cum, shoot your load into the crotch of her panties. Why? Because I want to lick both her and you off them. I want your spunk, and her……..ahhhh….there’s a good boy!”
In my own room my body is contorted in sexual agony as my orgasm tears through me. I can feel my bum check clenching and between my legs a series of rhythmic contractions accompany waves of unspeakable pleasure. Wetness floods over my left thigh as I’m almost lying sideways now. I realise I don’t care what it is….pee….cum….whatever. Somehow, a bra strap has slipped over my shoulder and the material is stroking my nipple prolonging the orgasm. I’m trying to keep quiet, but it’s a choice between a little noise as I gasp for air, or dying of self-inflicted suffocation.
Eventually, the storm passes, and I lie there, twisted over and panting. This one was devastating! There’s silence from next door.
I wonder if they heard me?
It takes a while for my breathing and heart rate to normalise, and I need to clean up. I’m a hot mess down below….and I luxuriate in it as I walk to my bathroom. I feel wetness running down my left thigh, and for a moment I imagine it’s semen. What a delicious thought, yet most girls my age are terrified of getting semen anywhere near that secret area between their legs. I suppose I am too. That’s what makes the thought even more delicious.
I peel my little white panties off. Oh dear, they are wrecked! What would the nuns think of this? I drop them in the hamper thinking “There, mum. A fresh contribution for you and dad”. I stand in my shower, but before turning the water on, I indulge in something that had become a ritual of late. I cover my hands in my wetness and rub them over my entire body. Tonight is a particularly wet one for me, and it’s leaking out of me still. I go back for ‘seconds’ and this time I rub it into my hair. Finally, I stand there, covered from head to foot in girl cum. I smell….I smell like a whore (or so I imagine) and something deep inside me knows that if I went out like this, I would attract attention from people….men….that I passed. Some wouldn’t really react, but others would recognise the pheromones and become instantly attracted to me. The desire for my body would be imprinted upon them and once again, I luxuriate in the power of my body.
Finally, I shower. The steam picks up the scent and soon my bathroom is permeated with that scent that is so familiar from my and other girls’ panties. That warm, musky scent, with that faint, almost undetectable hint of pee.
What a luxury.
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