Too Big(3)

“Mom,” I sighed.

“I’ve got it, dear,” said Dad. He gave her a pat on the butt and leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She grinned, and I looked away, embarrassed.

My pussy was throbbing. I ran upstairs and closed the door, and rolled onto the bed. God, it was terrible. I got up and locked the door, my hand trembling around the cold, clammy brass knob. I ran to my bed and pulled over my bag, and rummaged around until, beneath the clothes, I pulled out my “massager” and rolled onto the bed. I turned it on and shoved its bulby rubber head between my legs and trapped it there with my thighs and hands, and let the quivering, rumbling vibrations spread through my body. I let out a long, contented sigh, but it wasn’t really enough. I felt a squirming, hollow need deep in my belly, and every time I closed my eyes I saw that big cock swaying in front of me, so I forced them open. I slipped a finger inside myself, slowly. I was so tight, the idea of that… that thing fitting inside me was absurd, but that only made the thought hotter…

I sat up and yanked the vibrator out of my pants. I was thinking about fucking my father. I curled up in a ball and whimpered, but my hands worked down between my legs anyway. I slipped one finger inside and worked my clit in slow circles, anxious to get off, to get this need out of my body and think about something else. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and his prodigious manhood so I didn’t even try. The thought carried me off into a haze that led very gradually into what may have been the most bland orgasm of my entire life. It just sort of faded out, and I went back to sleep.

Later on, I woke up. I’d left my light on, so I clicked it off and headed out into the hallway, creeping slowly towards the bathroom, afraid I’d wake my parents. Usually, they slept with the door to the bedroom open. I didn’t notice that it was closed until I came out of the bathroom. Then, in the eerie quiet of the late-night house, I heard a low, throaty moan. Frozen in place, I listened, and the more I listened the more I heard, the sounds coming into relief.

There was a low, throaty moan.

“Jesus, Michael,” my mother groaned, “It’s so fucking big.”

That was it. That was the last straw. I bolted into my room, closed and locked the door (quietly, of course) and put my ear up to the wall. It sounded like listening through a drum, but I could hear her moans as plain as day, and her soft grunts.

“That’s it,” Mom purred, “Roll me over.”

Then I heard soft, rhythmic slaps. My hand was between my legs before I even knew it. My mind filled in the gaps, built the visuals. I saw my mom fisting the sheets as she lay ass-up and Dad mounted her from behind, arms hooked under her hips so he could root that slab of a cock in her body to the root. She cried out and her voice squeaked.

“Erica will hear us,” I heard him say, barely a whisper.

I could almost feel Mom clenching her teeth as the whimpers whined out between them. I fell down onto the bed and curled up around myself, two fingers in my cunt as I rubbed and finger myself, feeling the heat grow and spread through me. My head started to spin and I lay there, melting into the bed, and sighed in relief as the pressure broke and heat rushed through me. I fell asleep, curled up on the top half of my bed with my hand down my pajama pants.

When I woke up, my head was pounding and I was stiff from lying curled up against the wall. I slowly detangled myself from my own limbs and stood up, and yawned. When I brought my hand up to my face, I realized I needed a shower. I snagged my old bathrobe and a towel and headed into the bathroom.

Never had I felt so stiff. I leaned on the wall and let the heat from the water soak into my muscles, and thought about taking a bath. For a long while I just leaned against the wall and hugged my arms around my ribs and let my hair soak up the water and stick to my neck. Finally I grabbed the soap and started lathering up, humming quietly to myself. After a rinse I turned the water off and stood there shivering, dripping dry, my hands pressed into the tiles between the knob and the shower head.

At last I steeled myself to step out of the frigid air and threw back the shower curtain.

Dad was standing in front of the sink, stripped to the waist in baggy sweats, his unkempt hair in a halo around his head. A froth of toothpaste was on hips lips and the brush was stuck in his mouth. He glanced over and then froze mid-brush, eyes going wide as it dawned on him that he was staring at my completely nude, glistening wet body.

We both just sort of hung there in a frozen moment. I could see his eyes moving as he took in a view of my entire body from my ankles up over my belly and my chest and finally his eyes locked on mine and his mouth fell open and the toothbrush fell out and landed in the sink with a soft clink.