My mother had been in her mid-thirties when she gave birth to me, and my father nearly ten years older. It wasn't a particularly happy marriage: they rarely spoke to one another, and I knew that their sex was infrequent, to say the least.

Their bedroom was next to mine, and the dividing wall was paper-thin, and it wasn't very often that I heard the bedsprings creaking. What I did hear sometimes was my mother saying things like 'Please, George! It's been nearly two months!' and my father would just grunt and tell her to go to sleep, and occasionally I heard her sobbing.

She wasn't unattractive, with a good figure and nice legs; she had iron-grey hair and quite a pretty face, although she seemed to wear a perpetual frown, and her full mouth was always sullen, but my father didn't seem to notice one way or the other.

I think their marriage was a matter of necessity rather than love: I'd come across her marriage certificate once, and I'd noticed that the wedding had taken place less than four months before I'd been born, although it was difficult to imagine my mother having casual sex, resulting in pregnancy.

One Saturday morning, I was lying naked on my bed, masturbating. I loved rubbing my cock, thinking of girls and women, sometimes my mother, visualizing them naked, wishing I had someone to fuck, and thinking what 'd do to them...

Suddenly my bedroom door opened, and my mother stepped in, carrying a pile of freshly ironed clothes. She froze in the doorway when she saw what I was doing, and just stood there, staring at my cock. I should have been embarrassed, but somehow it added to my excitement seeing her watching me, and I continued to rub my cock, looking at her.

She leaned back against the doorjamb, still holding the ironing, her eyes fixed on my throbbing cock. It was large, with a bulbous red head, and a very white shaft with heavy blue veins, and I eased my hand up and down, pulling the foreskin back and then up to practically cover the head, and then back down again...

I was already almost on the point of ejaculating, and having my mother staring at what I was doing provided extra stimulus, and I started to come. I squeezed my cock to prevent my semen from spurting wildly, and instead it slowly leaked out of my cock, trickling down over my fingers, until the head of my cock and my hand and balls were covered in thick creamy semen, and I saw my mother run her tongue over dry lips.

She stared at my cock for a couple more minutes, then she put the ironing down on a chair and left the room without a word, quietly closing the door behind her.

The rest of the day passed normally, with neither of us saying anything about what had happened. I played rugby in the afternoon, we all had dinner and watched TV afterwards, and that was that — just an unexpected incident which had probably embarrassed my mother, but which I'd certainly enjoyed, and when I went to bed I masturbated again, thinking of the way Mum had stared at me...

Sunday, too, started out as usual: except that instead of her usual housecoat, my mother was wearing a blue skirt and a loose, dark red sweater with quite a low-cut, scooped neckline. We were all in the living room shortly before dinner; Dad was sitting in his usual armchair, and my mother got up and bent to pick up his newspaper from beside his chair.

She was facing me, and her sweater fell away from her body, revealing her full breasts swelling out of her white cotton bra. Without moving, she stared at me, seeing me looking at her straining breasts, and then she slowly straightened, only to bend over again to plump up the cushions on the sofa, still facing me and watching me staring at her voluptuous breasts...

After dinner, I helped her clear up as I always did. We were in the kitchen; she was at the sink, washing the dishes, and I was drying them. Nervously, I put my arm round her waist, and she turned to me, her hands still in the sink, and I kissed her. She caught her breath, and then she kissed me back frantically, working her mouth on mine, and I squeezed her breast, knowing that it was all right...

Afterwards, I had some homework to do before school the next day, and I went up to my room. It was quite late when I came down, having taken time off the homework to masturbate thinking of my mother's full, soft lips kissing me passionately, and how soft and yielding her breast had felt in my hand...

My father glanced at me without speaking, and looked at Mum. 'How about a hot drink, Elsie?'

She got up from the sofa. 'Come and help me, Billy, ' she said, and I followed her into the kitchen. She put some milk into a saucepan, and then turned to me and kissed me again, pressing her body against me. The kiss was even more passionate than before: her lips were slightly parted, and she kissed me wetly, and I felt her tongue forcing its way into my mouth...

When we broke away, her breasts were heaving, and I squeezed them both, pressing them together, and she covered my hands with hers, making me dig my fingers into her soft flesh as she kissed me again, and then the milk started to boil over.

In the morning, Mum was preparing breakfast in her nightdress and dressing gown, as she always did. We all had breakfast in the kitchen, and when Mum and I were behind my father's chair I slipped my hand inside her nightdress and fondled her bare breast — it felt wonderful, and she leaned against me and kissed me.

When I was sitting at the table, I noticed that she'd loosened her dressing gown, and when she leaned across the table towards me I got a perfect view of her naked breasts swinging freely, capped with huge aureoles and big nipples, and she stared at me with heavy-lidded eyes for a long moment before she sat down opposite me. And then I felt her bare foot rubbing against my leg.

She was still sitting at the table with my father when I left for school. I bent to kiss her cheek, staring down at her half-exposed breasts, and she turned her head slightly so that our lips brushed together momentarily.

I had to go to the library after school, and my father was already home from work when I got in. I managed to kiss Mum in the hallway before going up to my room to do my homework before dinner. We were able to kiss properly clearing up after the meal, and then we all settled down in the living room to watch TV.

My father was in his chair, and Mum and I were sitting on the sofa, although not touching. We all watched some programme or other — Mum dropped her hand onto the sofa beside her, and our fingers started to toy with each other, and once she turned her head to stare at me.

Then my father's head started to nod. He jerked awake a couple of times, and then his chin dropped to his chest and his mouth fell open.

I disentangled my fingers and put my hand on my mother's bare leg, slowly sliding it up under her skirt. I stroked her smooth soft skin, gradually moving my hand higher up her thigh. To my dismay, she eased herself up off the sofa and slowly slid behind it, her eyes fixed on my father. I saw her bend down, and then she moved back onto the sofa, still watching Dad, and I saw that she had her knickers in her hand. She stuffed them behind a cushion, and slid closer to me.

I put my hand on her thigh again, sliding it higher until my fingers touched a thick bush of hair. I continued on until I felt her wet cunt, and she gave a tiny intake of breath. I fondled her, squeezing her, and she put her own hand up under her skirt to guide my fingers to where she wanted them, all the while with her eyes on my father.

She began to breathe more deeply, her breasts rising and falling as I played with her cunt, and pushing my fingers deep into its warm, wet interior, and sliding them in and out, while her hand rested on my groin, squeezing my cock through my trousers. But then Mum started to fumble with my trousers, trying to get into them.

She finally succeeded, and slipped her hand inside to grope for my cock. She found it, and wrapped her fingers gently round it.

'Oh... ' she breathed, shutting her eyes for a moment, and then she started to fondle it, squeezing it gently, sliding my foreskin up and down slowly, brushing her thumb lightly backwards and forwards across the slit, while I continued to finger her cunt, which by now was dripping wet.

I don't know which excited me more - fondling my mother's bare wet cunt, or feeling her playing with my throbbing cock. Either way, I felt the pressure building up, and then I started to spurt into my mother's hand inside my underpants. She kept rubbing me, all the while staring at my father, and then her body jerked and I saw her bite her lip as she began to shudder, clamping my hand between her thighs and squeezing my cock hard...

We kept fondling each other like that for about half an hour, and I came in her hand again...

Then my father grunted and raised his head, and Mum and I snatched our hands away, and she straightened her skirt just before his eyes opened.

We all sat watching the news, and then we got up to go to bed. Dad led the way out of the living room, and Mum held back a moment to kiss me goodnight, a wild, passionate kiss, and I saw tears of happiness in her eyes.

I don't know what she did to get him interested, but that night their bedsprings creaked violently, while I masturbated thinking about her being fucked...

Next morning at breakfast I managed to feel her naked breast inside her nightdress behind my father's back again — this time, her dressing gown was very loosely tied, and I was able to move my hand sideways to feel her other breast as well, while she squeezed my cock and kissed me, her eyes closed.

That evening, after dinner, she announced that she felt like soaking in the bath — I didn't dare go upstairs and try to look in the bathroom, but just sat there, imagining her naked, while Dad stared at the TV.

Eventually she came down, already in her nightdress and dressing gown, and went into the kitchen. My father was starting to nod off, and I tiptoed into the kitchen after her. My mother slipped her dressing gown and one strap of her nightdress off her shoulder and cupped her bare breast in her hand, offering it to me.