Shock & Awe

The coldness of the pink silk sheets of your waterbed and the pink pillowcase holding your gel’infused tempur’pedic pillow, provided a small measure of comfort and relaxation as you laid your head down to sleep.

As the clock strikes twenty-three hundred, the walls of your room feel as if they are closing in around you. An urge to actually see what your father handed to your mother overwhelms your better senses.

Swiftly and quietly disembarking from the bed, heading down the hall towards where you know where father keeps his briefcase, that being the room in which your parents sleep. However, upon approaching the door to the room the clear sounds of a bed in motion can be heard through the door.

‘There is no way they are having sex.’ You mentally exclaim.

Being well educated… well your parents paid for you to go to the schools with better results. Most of it was just lost on your previous but well known apathy.

Discussing sex with you was far from ever a problem for them. NoneTheLess, they never discussed their own sex life, or given you any sign that they had one. Except for that one time you saw fur covered handcuffs in one of your parent’s dressers. Besides that, the height of the physical affection they showed towards each other while in your presence was holding hands.

Unbidden, the mental image of your parents rutting on their air mattress came into your mind. Your father Sensuously impaling your mother as she laid on her back with her legs wrapped around your father’s waist, he held himself over her.

The sounds of a headboard butting up against a granite wall brings to mind that they ‘should’ be facing away from the door. All good sense having vacated your mind, you prepare with the intent to sneak in without being noticed.

The door stops its slow silent swing as what is actually happening assaults your surprisingly eager eyes. You were both right and wrong, they are both facing the headboard, however your father is kneeling as he holds mother’s lithe and svelte hips {even after multiple children} as he pistons his turgid blood engorged man meat into her cunt.

‘How else would I exist? It is right for married couples to have sex often…’ _** The thoughts do little to assuage the trauma… or excitement, that is growing within you.

Clinically, the idea that your parents have sex was both obvious and rarely thought of by you. Still, actually imagining it failed to ever interest you. It was supposed to be disgusting but the intent to turning away, fails to grace you.

Wet flesh slapping against wet flesh, and the sound of air escaping your mother’s clamshell is easily heard by you at this point. Passionately thrusting his cock farther up into your mother, the dull and bone jarring thud of their hips meeting conveys the power of your father pounding mother into the mattress. To and fro, between her arms,her magnificently beautiful baby feeders swung.

In less than a moment after pausing, and as if rehearsing a well-choreographed move, father slapped your mother’s ass then abruptly pulls out. The choreographed part comes, without missing a beat, as mother moved off to the side of the bed to make room for your father to sit in the center.

This gives you a chance to see, for the first time, the mammoth baby maker, on that which your father wanted to impale you. It may be odd but even seeing your parents naked failed to grace your memory of them. Now the massive blood-engorged veiny cock stood out in all its glory right in front of you.

‘That thing is going inside me tomorrow?’ Rhetorically you cognitively ask yourself. You look down and are surprised to feel how wet this has left your own pussy.

Father’s cock slowly impaling your mother as she sat and guided it back into her, is what graces the return of your eyes. Inexplicably, that sparks the embers of your good sense as you decide you have finally had enough, and turn to return to your room

Uncharacteristically, the silk sheets of your cool waterbed fail to quiet your thoughts and still your mind in preparation to enter sleep. Instead, the image of your mother impaling herself on your father’s absurdly large cock forces itself into your conscious mind.

When the alarm clock sounds off at 06:13, it feels as if you stayed awake the whole of the night. Deciding a cold shower is in order, you mechanically **** yourself into the preparations for your first day at work. The idea of continuing your historic habit of calling in sick and sleeping the day away, fails to even come to mind for you.

After staring at everything that was purchased the prior day for twenty-six minutes, you throw aside all of the more professional clothes. After engineering your way out of a want to ‘perform’ for your uncle and father yesterday. It seemed inevitable that they would be ‘visiting’ you today. The idea that your mother wore father out last night was entertaining though unrealistic. If anything he wore her out.

NoneTheLess, the idea of letting the whole company know your father is pimping you out inspired you to throw aside of your slutty outfits.

A black knee-length pin’striped skirt and white cashmere blouse, is upon which you settle. Neon dark pink panties and lacy bra are selected to spice it up more.

Nervously you travel with your father as he drives the two of you to work. Your fingers stealthily tracing the lines of your skirt as he drives, you wait for him to make a move. Yet he stoically and confusingly does nothing.

The only thing father does is show you to your new desk, before bidding you a good morning and leaving. The whole day stretches painfully as you pensively wait to be visited, but neither does father nor your uncle.

You did make a new friend, a scientist type that was visiting your father. The two of you talked and you discovered she was a recent hire as well, though you very much suspected the skills she was called to perform were a great deal more mental than yours.

‘Is this some sick joke? Did they have mother sign the real contract and shred the other one?’ You ask yourself. Being eighteen, your mother was still legally able to sign a contract for you.

A day of waiting only engorges your desire to see the ‘contract’ that was handed to your mother last night. Yet, the briefcase was always in the care of your father.

You try again like the previous night, though tonight was a repeat in more than just your intent. Again your parents make passionate love to each other right before your eyes. This time your mother is bent over the bed, with father standing on the floor behind her.

The ornate wooden chest at the foot of their bed was as high as a wide dresser and adequately hide you from view of even your father.

Same as before, after peaking around the corner of the chest the sight of your Father’s thick beast ravaging mother’s wet beautiful snatch holds a strange mesmerizing effect on your attention. Another surprise was the strength he was using to fuck her with. On both nights, their skin was drenched with rivers of sweat.

For mother, the beads of sweat slowly ran down her sharp jawline to drop from her chin, and her pert perky nipples. It seemed unreal to you how youthful your mother appeared. She tried to adjust to the use of increased **** tonight.

However, one particularly bone-jarring thrust caused your mothers wet oily hands to slip, and that led to her elbows colliding with the bed. That precipitated her nipples dragging against their own silk sheets. That left you wondering if this was normal or not, as the smooth texture of silk would be far better than normal sheets against her nipples.

Your father grunts shortly after, a long moan of pleasure escapes mother’s breathless form. Well experienced with pleasing men you knew without really thinking about it, that he had just pumped his virile baby batter into her indubitably still fertile womb.

Thinking that they would finally sleep, a soft, silent sigh of gratitude escapes your own mouth as father pulls out. Yet, when his member is free of your mother’s tight embrace, you barely stifle a gasp and are left speechless. ‘How can he still be hard? He just came…’

The sight of their mixed cum swamping mother’s snatch confirmed that your father had indeed released himself into her. That was only visable after he helped rolled her over by swinging the leg closest to you up. The move ended with her back laying against the mattress, and her knees brought up over his shoulders.

The cum was packed further back up your mother’s vaginal canal as father thrust his dick back into her cunt. Bouncing and rolling freely, your mother’s sexy warheads again captured your attention. This seemed to confirm to you the unasked question of whether you actually found either parent attractive. The answer was obviously that you found both of them abundantly desirable.

The thoughts bubble up into your conscious mind enough to help you realize your hand was stuffed into your own nether region and under your panties and pajamas. Strangely this was enough to cause your good sense to return and inspire you enough to abruptly cease the act and quickly return to your own room.

The sight of your mother’s legs spread and juicy cream’pie is what keeps you awake and away from never’never’land. In your more lucid moments, you wonder about it coating your own internal baby factory. Still, you keep yourself from masturbating and for the second night in a row the 06:13 alarm sees you with only a few moments of restful sleep.

Thinking that this entire affair was just some sick joke played at your expense was traumatizing in its own right. It would have been a rather cruel act by your parents all to try to instill a modicum of ambition greater than becoming a pole’dancer. Without really thinking about how this was already changing you, the next day you wear your more conservative professional clothing.

Ankle length navy’blue pen’stripped suit with a thicker white cashmere blouse. Again she wore sexy pink panties and bra, yet she knew the material of her clothes was too thick for them to be seen by anyone except Clark Kent.

The next day was all the confirmation that you needed; Because you did have considerable self’respect and knew, free of any doubt, the effect your body had on men.

A pattern began to form as the third night in a row you catch your parents mid’fuck. However, after two restless nights your mind and body was unable to do anything but crash hard on this third night of passion.

13:13 is what your alarm reads as it jolts you awake from the sleep of the dead. Feeling like a live wire you race to and fro getting ready for work, and wondering how you could have slept through your 06:13 alarm.

The question of who set your alarm clock to 13:13 failed to come to mind for you. Fear of your father’s response was more than enough, until you came racing back into your room to find a black sequined sophisticated dress with a long slit running up the right leg laying on your strangely made bed.

Your iPad was also laid out and the screen active showing Google Hangouts and a text message from father. “we have a meeting tonight at the house, from 15:00 to 22:00 so I let you sleep in. Wear what your mother laid out for you.”

The clock read 14:13 and the fear that had gripped your mind began to fade. So the sleep was a gift from your father instead of your **** mind playing tricks on you.

A stray thought entered your mind that of changing your pin code, as your mother evidently figured it out.

That left you asking yourself out’loud… “Wear only what's laid out ?”

*.*.*… This stitch was initially threaded together by Funtimes; Then was rewritten by me. *.*.*