GenderBender
Star
- Joined
- May 29, 2017
Dad always went out on Thursday evenings. Never missed. Regular as clockwork. I assumed he was out with his mates. He never said where he was going and mum never asked. She couldn’t have minded, because I’d hear them chatting and laughing in their room when he came back.
It was just after my fourteenth birthday that I realised they were doing more than chatting. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t some naïve teenager. I knew all about sex and understood that they’d be doing it. It just hadn’t occurred to me that that was when they did it – every Thursday after dad got back. However, late he was, mum was ready and waiting.
I’m not a snooper. It just happened that I got up for a pee and happened to pass their door. It was slightly ajar and I paused to listen to what they were laughing about. And in the moonlight, through the gap in the door, I saw that dad was whispering into her ear as he fucked her hard. Somehow, I just knew he was telling her what he had been doing that evening.
I couldn’t hear what he was saying, so in the coming weeks I stayed away and crept along to their door to try to hear what he was saying. I only managed to catch the odd word, but gradually I heard enough to set me on the right trail.
Rachel – I heard that name a lot. Dogging too – I didn’t know what that word meant until I googled it. “Sex in public,” the website said, “with men sharing the same woman or women, usually in a secluded car park or wood. Illegal in Britain.”
So that it was it. Dad was out fucking with other women and mum didn’t mind. I tried googling Rachel, but that produced nothing, until I combined it with dogging and the screen lit up. She was famous, with her own website; she even went on tours around the country. There were even clips of her in action.
At first, I thought I must have got this wrong, but as I listened more often, the details built up. It wasn’t just Rachel. There were other women, Cheryl, Pat and Diane, but Rachel was his favourite.
After that, I used to lie in bed wanking off to clips of Rachel sucking guys cocks or being fucked while others stood around waiting their turn. Sometimes, she’d take several guys at once, doing blowjobs and handjobs while being fucked by her car. The thing that struck me was how much she looked like mum. Same age and height. Same blond hair – obviously dyed because her pubes were black, not that I’d ever seen my mum’s pubes. Same big tits, wide hips, flabby ass and heavy thighs. Is that why dad was so taken with her?
It was later that year when dad asked me what I’d like for Christmas and I just came out with it. I told him I wanted to go with him on Thursday evening. He laughed, but I persisted, telling him I knew where he went and what he did. He went very quiet for a while, thoughtful like, and when he spoke his voice was hard.
‘You little bastard, you’ve been spying on me and your mother, haven’t you.’
I must have blushed. No way would I admit everything, but I had to explain how I knew.
‘No, dad, I wouldn’t do that.’ I protested. ‘I just happened to hear you one night when I went to the bathroom, that’s all. Then I put two and two together and did some research. That’s all, honestly.’
That must have mollified him, because his reply was less menacing.
‘Kids nowadays. You grow up so fast. Well, there’s no point you coming. You’re too young. The women wouldn’t have anyone there who’s under age. You’re not 15 yet, let alone 16.’
OK, I got the message. It was fair enough, although I couldn’t see why they should be bothered about my age when dogging was illegal anyway. But I could bide my time and that is what I did.
Approaching my sixteenth birthday, dad asked me if there was anything special I’d like. ‘As if I can’t guess,’ he added with a grin.
‘Please, dad, I’ll be old enough then. Take me with you, just once, please.’
He promised to talk to mum about it, which I wasn’t sure was a good idea, but the next day he told me she’d agreed and we set the date for the first Thursday in the summer holidays after my birthday.
It was just after my fourteenth birthday that I realised they were doing more than chatting. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t some naïve teenager. I knew all about sex and understood that they’d be doing it. It just hadn’t occurred to me that that was when they did it – every Thursday after dad got back. However, late he was, mum was ready and waiting.
I’m not a snooper. It just happened that I got up for a pee and happened to pass their door. It was slightly ajar and I paused to listen to what they were laughing about. And in the moonlight, through the gap in the door, I saw that dad was whispering into her ear as he fucked her hard. Somehow, I just knew he was telling her what he had been doing that evening.
I couldn’t hear what he was saying, so in the coming weeks I stayed away and crept along to their door to try to hear what he was saying. I only managed to catch the odd word, but gradually I heard enough to set me on the right trail.
Rachel – I heard that name a lot. Dogging too – I didn’t know what that word meant until I googled it. “Sex in public,” the website said, “with men sharing the same woman or women, usually in a secluded car park or wood. Illegal in Britain.”
So that it was it. Dad was out fucking with other women and mum didn’t mind. I tried googling Rachel, but that produced nothing, until I combined it with dogging and the screen lit up. She was famous, with her own website; she even went on tours around the country. There were even clips of her in action.
At first, I thought I must have got this wrong, but as I listened more often, the details built up. It wasn’t just Rachel. There were other women, Cheryl, Pat and Diane, but Rachel was his favourite.
After that, I used to lie in bed wanking off to clips of Rachel sucking guys cocks or being fucked while others stood around waiting their turn. Sometimes, she’d take several guys at once, doing blowjobs and handjobs while being fucked by her car. The thing that struck me was how much she looked like mum. Same age and height. Same blond hair – obviously dyed because her pubes were black, not that I’d ever seen my mum’s pubes. Same big tits, wide hips, flabby ass and heavy thighs. Is that why dad was so taken with her?
It was later that year when dad asked me what I’d like for Christmas and I just came out with it. I told him I wanted to go with him on Thursday evening. He laughed, but I persisted, telling him I knew where he went and what he did. He went very quiet for a while, thoughtful like, and when he spoke his voice was hard.
‘You little bastard, you’ve been spying on me and your mother, haven’t you.’
I must have blushed. No way would I admit everything, but I had to explain how I knew.
‘No, dad, I wouldn’t do that.’ I protested. ‘I just happened to hear you one night when I went to the bathroom, that’s all. Then I put two and two together and did some research. That’s all, honestly.’
That must have mollified him, because his reply was less menacing.
‘Kids nowadays. You grow up so fast. Well, there’s no point you coming. You’re too young. The women wouldn’t have anyone there who’s under age. You’re not 15 yet, let alone 16.’
OK, I got the message. It was fair enough, although I couldn’t see why they should be bothered about my age when dogging was illegal anyway. But I could bide my time and that is what I did.
Approaching my sixteenth birthday, dad asked me if there was anything special I’d like. ‘As if I can’t guess,’ he added with a grin.
‘Please, dad, I’ll be old enough then. Take me with you, just once, please.’
He promised to talk to mum about it, which I wasn’t sure was a good idea, but the next day he told me she’d agreed and we set the date for the first Thursday in the summer holidays after my birthday.