"I saw my Mum and Dad doing it once," whispered Catherine, her face pink as she sneaked a glance at the two boys at the other side of the room. At just turned fourteen, Catherine hated her habit of blushing whenever sex was being discussed, and had no idea how attractive the heightening of the colour on her cheeks made her. With her soft brown eyes, and dark hair curling down to just under her chin, not to mention her blossoming figure, she already turned many heads at school – and out of it.
But they were not at school this afternoon. Catherine and her classmate, Fiona, a pretty little slim blonde girl, had 'bunked off' and were at Lynne's mother's flat nearby. Lynne was in the year above them at school and they had been quite flattered to be invited back to her house for a coffee, instead of two boring periods of Physics.
The two boys – Colin and Tim – were in Lynne's year, and they had just sort of tagged along, but Lynne hadn't seemed to mind.
The three girls lowered their voices and huddled closer, keeping their conversation from the boys, who were smoking and watching an afternoon 'soap' on television.
"What was it – like?" asked Fiona, her clear blue eyes wide with curiosity.
"What do you mean – like?" responded Catherine.
"Well, what did you see?" said Fiona.
"Well - just my Mum's - you know," and she fluttered her hands over her own budding breasts.
"You mean her 'tits'? You must have seen your Mum's tits before," scoffed Lynne, with all the worldly-wise sophistication of a fifteen-year-old.
Catherine blushed - it didn't seem quite right to talk about her Mum's "tits", but, at the memory of what she had seen that afternoon...
"Yes, I have," she replied, hesitantly, "but ... my Dad was touching them - you know!"
"What – you mean – squeezing them – giving them a feel?" insisted Lynne.
"Yes - and she ... she had no clothes on!"
"That still doesn't mean they were doing it!" said Lynne.
"I know!" retorted Catherine, her face now brick red. "But they were in bed and Mum was sitting on him - on top of him - and I'm sure he was - inside her."
"Fucking her, you mean?" Lynne licked her lips as she spoke.
Catherine nodded, her heart thumping at the vivid memory of what she had seen that afternoon.
"Up her pussy?" insisted Lynne. "With his cock?"
"Well, I think so - I couldn't see, properly, because the bedclothes were piled up behind Mum, but she was going up and down, and he was reaching up and squeezing her breasts."
"So you didn't actually see his cock?" The mention of her Dad's "cock" was even worse than her Mum's "tits", and Catherine just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, as her mouth dried.
"What were they saying?" persisted Lynne.
"Nothing, really," said Catherine, but then, as she recalled that afternoon, she went on – "but Mum was – making noises..."
"What like – moaning and groaning and saying 'fuck me harder'... ?"
Catherine shook her head, wishing she had never started her story. Lynne had a bit of a 'reputation' in school. But Fiona was speaking and Catherine turned to her, with relief.
"How did you happen to see them?" asked Fiona, shyly.
"I was just going to my room, and they hadn't shut their door properly. It was a Saturday afternoon, and they didn't know I'd come home."
"Did they see you?" said Fiona.
Catherine shook her head. "No," she answered. "I crept back down the stairs and let myself out again and didn't come back for about two hours."
"What for?" asked Lynne, incredulously.
Catherine shrugged her shoulders.
"Didn't you want to keep watching - to see his cock going up her cunt?" persisted Lynne, clearly enjoying her use of crude language.
Catherine, her face still flaming red, shook her head again, uncomfortably.
She had replayed the scene a thousand times in her mind since then - and had elaborated it, too, by mentally removing the pile of bedclothes which had obscured her view, but had baulked, always, at conjuring up the image of her father's erect penis sliding in and out of her mother. She had tried to do it by pretending they were two other people, but, always, it was her Dad's hands she saw on her mother's naked breasts, her mother's nipples standing up straight, her mother's strangled cries as her body writhed sinuously on top of her dad.
"I'd have stayed," said Lynne. "I wouldn't have missed a chance like that!"
"But not – watching your own Mum and Dad," said Fiona, and Catherine shot her a grateful glance.
"What about your Mum with someone else?" questioned Lynne, an evil glint coming into her eye. "No, really, think about it," she added, forestalling the protests of her friends.
"Wouldn't it be exciting, coming home and catching your Mum with the window-cleaner or somebody? Just imagine it - they'd be in the kitchen and he'd have her backed up against the fridge. He'd have her blouse open and her tits out of her bra and he'd be feeling them up. Then he'd pull up her dress and get her knickers down, then take his big cock out and give her one up her wet hairy cunt!"
Too late, the three girls realised that the two boys had stopped talking and were listening, avidly, to their conversation.
Lynne was first to recover.
"Getting an earful, you two, are you?"
Colin, the younger one, blushed scarlet, but Tim said, quietly - "I've seen it loads of times."
"What - your parents - fucking?" asked, Lynne, excitedly.
"No," replied Tim. "My sister - and her boyfriend."
"How?" asked Lynne, her eyes bright.
"When my parents are out, they go up to Caroline's bedroom and I can see in from a tree in the garden."
"And - do you watch them?" asked Catherine, fearfully.
"Yeah," came the laconic reply.
"What do they do?" Lynne was leaning forward in her chair, her eyes glittering, her tongue moistening dry lips.
"Well, they come in and shut the door, then Paul starts kissing her and touching her, and she kisses him back, then he takes off her blouse and her bra and starts feeling her tits and kissing them. Then he unfastens her skirt and pulls it down and puts his hand down her panties and feels her bottom and then - at the front. Then he takes her panties off and he usually lays her down on the bed, then starts taking his clothes off. Then he gets on the bed with her and opens her legs and puts his dick in her."
"What else do they do?" asked Lynne, excitedly.
"Well, sometimes they change over and Caroline sits on his dick and he reaches up and squeezes her tits."
"Does she put it in her mouth?"
"I don't think so - I've never seen her do that," said Tim.
"Do you get a hard-on?" said Lynne, her tongue flickering over her now wet lips, and Tim nodded, grinning.
"But ... she's your sister," protested Catherine.
"So?" said Tim, scornfully.
"Well, I wouldn't like to think my brother would ... watch me like that!" Catherine responded, her face flushed.
"Why - who are you shagging?" Lynne laughed.
"Nobody!" Catherine's face was scarlet again.
"I bet he's seen you with no clothes on," said Tim, and Catherine felt uncomfortable as she realised this was probably true - but John was only twelve! Surely he wouldn't...
"I bet some of his mates have, too," Tim carried on. "I used to make quite a lot of money when I was twelve or thirteen, letting my mates climb our tree to see Caroline in her bedroom, getting changed to go out, or after a bath, or something."
"Mind you," he added, with a leer, "she had a good pair of tits by that time - and hair on her ... thing."
"On her 'thing'?" scoffed Lynne. "What's her 'thing'?"
It was Tim's turn to look embarrassed.
"Well - her fanny," he muttered.
"The word's 'vagina'," announced Lynne, scornfully. "I thought for a minute you knew what you were talking about. All you've ever done is watch your sister!"
"That's what you think!" said Tim, but now he, too, was blushing and confused, and Lynne pressed home her advantage.
"Anyway, are you saying Catherine's got no tits – or pussy hair?" she challenged, to Catherine's horror and intense embarrassment.
Defiantly, Tim cast Catherine a glance and shot back at Lynne - "She doesn't look as if she's got much!"
"Oh, yeah?" riposted Lynne, excitedly. "And how would you know? Have you paid her little brother for a look?"
"No!" mumbled Tim. "It wouldn't be worth it!"
"That's what you think!" responded Lynne.
"Be quiet - both of you!" exclaimed Catherine. "Just - mind your own business, can't you?" Her face was scarlet and her brown eyes filled with tears.
Tim looked away, a little shame-faced, but a sly smile came over Lynne's face before she assumed a solicitous expression and said - "But I've seen you in the showers after P.E., Cath - he hasn't! You've got quite big tits, and quite a lot of pussy hair..."
"Will you stop talking about my ... about me ... in front of them!" blurted Catherine. "How would you like it if I told him what you're like?"
"You wouldn't dare!" challenged Lynne.
"I will if you tell him any more about me!" said Catherine.
"Oh, will you?" said Lynne, grinning at her.
"Yes, I will!" Catherine replied, her anger now quite out of control. Fiona, meanwhile, sat frozen, scarcely daring to move - petrified of being dragged into this conflict. She was dimly aware that Lynne was manipulating Catherine into a corner, but couldn't quite figure out the older girl's motive.
"Go on, then!" said Lynne.
"Go on, then! Tell him! I don't care!"
.... There is more of this story ...