It doesn't though, my mind races as it continues to work on my essay. I close my eyes and have Tetris syndrome - words appearing one letter at a time, my brain typing my thoughts. I slow my breathing and try to think of something else, anything. My guilt at cock-blocking my parents. Dad's cock.
"The fuck?" I mutter aloud to myself.
I try to think about the reading I need to get done next weekend; the lecture tomorrow afternoon.
There's a soft mutter through the wall and immediately my mother sighs again.
So I didn't cock-block them, that's something I suppose. Still, I wish I'd managed to get to sleep before they started again. Dad's cock.
"Fuck it," I sigh and reach for my phone, it's obviously time for the only guaranteed way to get me to sleep. I scroll through increasingly explicit images and gifs, my fingers grazing back and forth over my panties.
My parents' bed thumps softly against the wall and mom groans. The girl on my phone rolls her eyes up as the guy behind her thrusts and I feel the warm wet spot in my panties. I scroll further, looking for that elusive one I know will push me over the edge. The breeze plays over my body and I pinch my nipples through my tee-shirt, goosebumps rising on my thighs. Dad grunts, mom groans, and I spread my legs a little wider, dropping one foot to the floor beside my bed and pushing my panties between my lips, grinding the pad of my index finger over my clit.
The next gif shows a girl being spooned, the man behind her greying around his temples, one of her legs hooked back over his, his cock inside her - mom groans. Dad's cock. An involuntary whimper escapes my mouth and I push my hand inside my panties.
Their bed thumps again. This is why I have this bedroom; Bree complained, she said they were too noisy, she insisted on switching with me. Now she's at uni I have no idea why I don't sleep in her room instead. Another thump, another grunt, their bed squeaking, and my fingers stroking in-time with them. I roll on my front, grinding my palm as I push two fingers in my pussy, probing, keeping rhythm with mom's pants, my own moans muffled by my pillow. I raise my butt from the bed, the sheets sticking to my sweaty skin. My phone discarded, I imagine that man behind me, rough fingers on my butt, cock pushing inside me, deeper, mom grunting with discomfort through the wall, my teeth closing on my pillow as I feel my climax rise, beginning like tension low in my body. In my head he has me bent over, gentle but dominant, drilling me on my bed while my parents fuck in the next room. He moves me around; against the door, on the rug, bent over my bed, bent over my desk, reading my essay over my shoulder as he fucks me from behind, telling me how good it is - dad's cock thick but relaxed in his boxer shorts, close enough to touch, to stroke and lick and taste -
Mom moans, the thump of their bed against my wall has reached its crescendo, it's creaking like an old ship in a storm, I picture them there, mom holding the headboard as dad plows her from behind, her face, her eyes roll back. I drag my fingers out and slide them slick and slow over my clit, sawing back and forth, images of dad working in the garden, his strong arm moving as he cuts through timber without any effort. My orgasm peaks, all denial gone as I think of dad, my body shaking as I cum on his cock. I try to hold it there, to ride the wave, but all too soon it's gone.
I pull my hand from my panties and lift my head from my drool and sweat-soaked pillow. Through the wall mom and dad are silent and I wonder how long ago they finished. My limbs ache as I clamber off my bed and stand beside it, guilt and shame competing as I try to ignore them, but they're smeared between my thighs. A clean pair of underwear and a tee-shirt that isn't wet with sweat. I shake out my sheet and turn over my pillow then stand by the open window, looking out at the deserted street and feeling the night air attempt to bathe my skin as I compose myself and catch my breath. Finally though I return to my bed, lie down and feel sleep's hand reaching for me.
I sleep fitfully though, concerns about my essay plaguing my dreams, and then a wider sense of insecurity about my degree leaving me feeling small and vulnerable. I know they're just dreams and I tell myself I can wake up, but I also know the concerns are real, and I'd rather not face them awake. It's too late though, my self-referential thoughts have broken the dream and I wake. My bedroom is cold now but my skin is clammy with sweat.
Getting out of bed I notice the grey light of dawn beginning to soften the horizon, it must still be early if the sun isn't up yet and I need to sleep or I'm not going to absorb a word of professor Hooper's lecture. I fetch a glass of water and pass my parents' bedroom as I return, pausing, poking my head around their door to see them both fast asleep, dad snoring softly. The forgotten guilt of my fantasy resurfaces but I quickly cover it up in my mind, telling myself I was over-tired, and stressed, and reacting to random stimuli. And then a thought occurs to me, the thought that I always slept so well after a nightmare if I crawled in to my parents bed.
Without giving my mind the opportunity to protest I sneak in to their bedroom, setting down my glass of water on the dresser and crawling on to the end of their bed, into the wide space between them and lying down on my side. I pull my legs up a little and close my eyes, certain that getting back to sleep won't be a problem now.
I don't wake again before dawn, a dreamless sleep leaving me rested and relaxed. When I do wake though it takes me a moment to get my bearings. Realising I'm in my parents' bed reminds me of my libido's indiscretion hours earlier. Still, just one of those things I suppose, my friends studying first-year psychology would presumably have a field-day with the information.
I'm lying facing mom, her eyes are closed as she sleeps. Behind me I feel dad shifting position and I'm about to roll over, expecting to have to explain my presence, instead he moves closer, muttering incoherently, obviously not entirely awake, and throws and arm over my body to pull me closer.
"Dad," I hiss, intending to wake him but clearly to no avail as he holds me, his heavy hand cupping one of my breasts. It's awkward as fuck and I struggle to move away, only succeeding in making him pull me firmly against him, and then I feel it, the swell and heat of his cock against my ass.
I don't know how I failed to notice his nakedness when I crept in during the night, but now it's very obvious as he presses against me, the head of his cock grazing the curve of my butt below the high cut of my panties. I need to get out of my parents' bed without waking them but dad practically has me in a bear-hug. My leg moves, apparently of its own volition, feeling him brush against my skin, and something inside my squirms, reminding me how long it's been since I've been with another person. His cock presses harder against me and for a moment I think he's deliberately pushing, but he snores softly and I realise his cock is rising of its own accord. Maybe it'll go back down too. If I just close my eyes and pretend to sleep... at least I won't be held complicit if him or mom see what's happening.
I settle my head down and try to ignore the heavy press against my thighs, imagining it's not a comfortable position for his cock to be in. In front of me mom shifts her body an inch, moving closer but not waking. God this was a bad idea. I close my eyes, maybe I can just go back to sleep. I can't ignore that cock though, my pussy moistening, like the traitor she is, at the thought of getting stuffed. I think I've got it under control - if I can just wait it out it'll be fine.
Dad's hand moves from my tit to my hip and I jump, my legs parting enough for his erection to spring up between them and press against the crotch of my panties. It happens in a split second and leaves him trapped between my thighs, my pussy getting wetter at the thought of him so close. He snores and his hand shifts to the hem of my tee-shirt, slipping under it, his fingers grazing my skin.
I try to think of anything I can, anything but my father's cock just a thin scrap of cotton away from my pussy. I stare at my mother, praying she won't suddenly wake, or that maybe she will and I can feign sleep and she'll see what's happened and shoo dad off me... but I don't want that. My heart and my pussy coaxing my mind, telling me how good it feels to have a cock there again, and how bad it feels that it's dad's. It feels like there's a swamp in my panties.