I stared at the crack in the ceiling with my arms folded across my breasts as the rhythmic banging continued against the wall behind my head. It was Saturday night and as always my parents were having sex, as they did every week, going at it as if they were still teenagers. It would start quietly enough and then I would find myself woken by the sound of the bedhead from my parent’s room banging against the wall with increasing ferocity and frequency. Gently at first but then with increased tempo and vigour until finally, a muffled cry would signify the end of proceedings and the house fall silent again.

I knew full well what was going on next door as I had read the books and done the classes at school. In my younger years, I was concerned that they may be trying to create a little sister or brother for me as my mother would often remark how nice it would be for me to have a playmate. The reality was the thought of having a sibling 10 or more years younger than me sent my blood cold as it would make me nothing more than a cheap babysitter. It was only as I grew older that I learnt from whispered conversations that sex could be for recreation as well as procreation. Eventually, talk in the house stopped about babies and the stored baby furniture had long gone, but the banging never stopped, it still continued every Saturday night.

There was still the fear among the girls in my final year of school that if they let a boy go ‘too far’ and use his thing then they would fall pregnant and have to leave the school in shame like Mandy Smith did the previous year.

I couldn’t help but stifle a silent giggle as I remembered how a few months ago in the girl’s toilets, my best friend Kim Cox had talked about how to wank a boy off. Then using a small telescopic umbrella as a penis substitute she demonstrated the required movements. I was fascinated as I watched Kim’s hand moving up and down as she breathlessly described how the boy would get hard and then moan a lot before his cock would spit white fluid everywhere. Kim had given me a stern warning that it was the white stuff, the sperm, that would make you pregnant if it got anywhere near your pussy and you should always wash your hands afterwards.

I did some further research into the subject by reading in the library and learned a lot about the clinical actions but none of them talked about pleasure. I did learn that Kim was wrong and you couldn’t get pregnant from your hand touching your pussy but also scarily that a boy didn’t need to penetrate you to get you pregnant, just get his thing close enough. That made me decide that it was best to keep my knickers firmly on, well at least until Mr Right came along.

As I listened to my parents reaching a climax I started to picture what was going on in the other room and without thought, my hands wandered down my body to the hem of my nightdress. As it suddenly felt that it had become too hot I pulled it up as I heard in my head my mother admonishing me that I should never touch myself down there as it was wrong. The heat coming from my body made me even more determined to touch myself down there, though I had no real idea where ‘there’ was.

As I closed my eyes drawings from one of the many books I had studied popped into my head and I could visualize the charcoal sketch of a cock that started to grow until it was erect. Then the diagram of female genitalia popped into my head and I could picture the position of the clitoris, so I cautiously felt for it with my fingertip. It was like a bolt of lightning shot through my groin and I jerked my hand away in shock, though the tingling drew it back almost instantly to start to tease and rub the nub of pleasure. As the banging on the wall reached a climax I was sure I could hear my mother’s muffled moans of pleasure, accompanied by my father’s grunts of effort, and at that same moment, I arched off the bed as my first orgasm ripped through my young body.

On Monday morning I could hardly wait to find Kim and tell her about my adventure on Saturday night.

“I touched myself and it was amazing,” I said breathlessly as I described the orgasm the previous Saturday. Kim knew all about my parents having sex and that I listened, as it was something we had discussed many times over the years though normally I described it more with annoyance than enthusiasm, this was different.

“So your Mum and Dad were really going for it?” Kim giggled, “And naughty Julie got all turned on did she?” Then she lowered her voice as she whispered, “Did you picture your Dad’s cock?”

I was outwardly shocked and spluttered in outrage, “Ewwww Kim that’s disgusting, he is my Dad.”

“Well I think he is dead fit your Dad, I would let him with me if he wanted,” Kim said pushing out her 32A breasts, “And I am sure your Dad would love to play with your bazookas rather than my fried eggs.”

I glanced down at my own breasts that seemed to be growing every day and were already a very respectable 34B though my bra was starting to feel tight at times. The boys on the bus would often glance in my direction followed by muffled comments followed by ribald laughter among themselves.

“So did you put your fingers inside?” Kim whispered, looking around to make sure we were still alone. I remained silent and I knew my face must be a little red as the thought of putting my fingers inside hadn’t actually occurred to me. Then Kim went on, “I use the handle of my hairbrush all the time now, hurt a little at first, but now it feels so good and I use it all the time.”

That evening I picked up the hairbrush that had been the centre of my discussions with Kim and held it in my hand. The handle must have been a good four inches long and I could hardly imagine that inside me, then holding it by the bristles I could feel them digging into my palm as I began to picture pushing it inside of myself. My thoughts were broken by my mother calling me down to dinner and I placed the brush down, though felt a little twinge inside, and the brush seemed to stare at me until I left the room.

Over dinner, I glanced at my Dad trying to see him in a different light to that of my father, more in the way Kim described him as being fit. His eyes twinkled with laughter as he recounted a funny incident from work and I could see the strong jawline of his handsome face and his dark hair swept back in a casual yet smart way. When he stood to gather the plates, as he always did, I found myself starring at his crotch and for the first time I saw the bulge in his trousers outlining his cock. I had to look away before I blushed and made a fool of myself but the image of the outline of his cock was burned into my brain.

I could hardly wait for Saturday to come round and lay there eagerly waiting for the show to start. I heard the creak of the stairs followed by muffled noises and the odd giggle before it fell silent. I could hear their bed moving but it sounded different, with no rhythmic banging of the headboard against my wall. Climbing silently out of bed I cautiously peered out into the darkness and could see my parent’s bedroom door was half open and the faint light of the bedside lamp gave off a weak glow. Moving silently I reached their door and could see through the gap between the door and the door frame where it hinged. No wonder there was no noise, my mother was on her knees at the side of the bed as my father stood there, his eyes closed as my mother sucked his cock.

I was spellbound as I watched the pleasure and joy run across my father’s face as he stroked my mother’s hair gently. Then as I watched he started to move his hips back and forward, thrusting into her mouth as he became more excited. My mother’s left hand was between my father’s legs caressing his balls while the other hand was between her legs as she must be touching herself as she sucked. I could feel the wetness between my own legs and pulling the nightdress up with one hand I started to rub and touch myself as I had done the week before.

As my father grunted with pleasure I could hear my mum gag a little as he must have shot into her mouth and the noise sent me over the top. As my father came his eyes flew wide open and although I was sure he couldn’t see me it felt like I was staring into his eyes as I came on my own fingers, biting my lip to remain silent.

As soon I was certain my jelly legs would carry me I made my way back to my room feeling my whole body vibrating. As I closed the door the moonlight seemed to shine on the dressing table highlighting the hairbrush that was screaming at me to be put to use. I ripped the nightdress from my body and gripping the brush firmly I fell onto the bed, opening my legs wide. The handle slipped in with ease and I could hardly contain the moan that escaped my lips as I plunged it into my wetness. With my free hand, I rubbed my clit until I arched up off the bed, my body drawn in a bow as I orgasmed for the second time that night. As I collapsed back onto the sheets the one thought that ran through my brain was that it was my father who had just fucked me though I knew from what I had seen he was considerably larger than the hairbrush handle.