Chapter 2

Mum and Dad came to stay with me for a few days, just a change of scenery for them and an opportunity to see me and my forest. I watched on my CCTV as Dad pulled up in his Volvo EX40 and parked next to the charging port. Mum got out of the passenger side, and Dad went to the boot and got their suitcase.

I opened the front door and went out, hugging Mum and waving hello to Dad. “Welcome, welcome,” I said. “Come in. What do you want, coffee or tea? I have Yorkshire, chai or mint tea. Coffee is regular or decaf.”

“I think we will both have a Yorkshire tea, please, sweetheart,” Mum answered as we walked arm in arm back to the house, Dad towing the suitcase behind us.

“You are in your usual room, Dad,” I said, “the middle one.” It was the same room I usually give them. They get the middle room, and my brother Geoff, when he stays, has the far room – well, officially, so far, he hasn’t actually slept in that bed, more in mine.

In the kitchen I flipped the kettle on and got the China mugs out of the cupboard. “It’s all bags, Mum, I am afraid,” I said as I dropped a bag in each mug. I put a mug under the Gaggia and pressed ‘grind’; I wanted a coffee.

Dad came into the kitchen and walked over, giving me a big hug. I tried very hard not to notice the bulge pressing against me. Dad is a man, and he has a bulge. Equally, I hoped he wouldn’t notice my breasts digging into him; I am a woman and have breasts.

The kettle boiled; I disentangled myself from Dad and poured the water into the mugs, frothed my milk for my coffee and stirred their teas, adding flat milk and taking out the tea bags.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s sit in the conservatory.”

They followed me through to the conservatory, warmed by the winter sun and a radiator, of course, and I sat in the single chair opposite them; they had the cane sofa. We chatted as we drank our tea. Mum was busy at a local charity shop; Dad was getting the garden ready for this spring’s planting.

I did notice that Dad seemed to be looking up my skirt a few times; I couldn’t help how I sat. I did try to remember to keep my knees together, but I think they slipped apart a fair few times.

We had been chatting for about an hour when Dad said he would like to go and freshen up before dinner. Mum went with him, and I popped into the kitchen to check on the Bolognese that I had in the slow cooker for tea. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did; I checked on the CCTV.

I have CCTV all over the house, inside and out, but I don’t tell anyone. Evidence for if I am burgled, of course, but also an opportunity to covertly eavesdrop on people, and that is exactly what I did. I sat at the kitchen table and brought up the camera for the room Mum and Dad were in. Mum was down to her underwear, and Dad was naked, his dick sticking out in front of him.

I had seen my parents naked a fair few times when I lived at home; it was unavoidable, really, but I had never seen his dick hard. It was an impressive sight. I changed to the other camera in their room; it was at the bed end of the room rather than the door end and gave me a better, closer view of his dick.

“You’ll have to wait until tonight,” Mum said.

“Sweetheart, really? Must I? We have time now.”

“I haven’t showered George.”

“That makes no difference; you showered first thing this morning. Things are not going to get unsavoury in just a few hours.”

“Oh for goodness sake,” Mum said, “lie on the bed; I’ll use my hands.”

Dad went across to the bed and pulled the quilt back and lay on the sheet, his head on the pillow. Mum knelt next to him on the bed, still in her bra and knickers, and took his hard dick in her hand.

She pulled Dad’s foreskin down and gave me my first view of his glans, big with a well-defined rim. No wonder they call it a helmet; it was just what it looked like. She began moving faster and faster, her hand almost a blur on the CCTV. Dad was gasping and grunting as Mum worked his dick.

“Oh, this is no good,” Mum said and bent forward, sucking his dick into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down. Dad was writhing with pleasure on the bed, Mum’s hand now working his balls as her mouth was around his dick. I saw Dad lift and thrust himself in the air, and Mum gulped.

Mum pulled back, and I could see her swallowing; Dad had ejaculated, sending his spunk down Mum’s throat.

“Right, go and have a shower and then get decent for tea. Amelia said she was doing a spag bol, so perhaps not a white shirt; you know how messy you can be.”