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Then I had a thought: what sort of parents have sex with their grown daughter in the same room?
If they don't mind having her as an audience, they probably wouldn't mind an additional spectator. Complain to the resident assitant, "We were fucking away when we realized that our daughter had her boyfriend in teh room and it wasn't just her watching"?
She was a professional psychotherapist and had always been very frank about sex.
Most guys that I know get the sex talk from their dads (mine divorced Mom when I was young and I rarely see him) and it's usually a very awkward talk, describing the basic facts of sex that the son already knows; my mom said that I probably knew all of that stuff already and that the important thing to remember was to stick to mutual masturbation with casual partners if I didn't know their sexual history, at least until I was comfortable having intercourse wearing a condom.
I got a little excited at the thought of fucking while her roommate, who wasn't too bad looking herself, was snoozing a few feet away--if she woke up, would she watch us and maybe finger herself?
But when Laura pulled me through the curtain and toward the bed, both of us stark naked, I got the shock of my life--there were obviously two people in the bed, and her parents' suitcases were standing near the desk.
She started undressing and motioned to me to do the same; usually we just took our clothes off and tossed them on the other bed.
She shushed me again and for some reason I thought that her roommate had come back and that her parents were gone.
She was obviously experienced at sex, but was evasive when I asked her about past boyfriends.I didn't press too hard because the sex was so great that I didn't want to spoil a good thing.Then, one weekend, her parents came to campus to visit."I promise that I won't think any of the worse of you.I know that you're a good man and that you didn't do anything to harm anyone." I shifted in my seat, still hesitant to talk about it, but Mom persisted and finally I gave in and told her what had happened earlier in the fall semester.
If I'd had even a little of my senses about me, I probably would have ran back to the closet, grabbed my clothes, and gotten out of there, but I was frozen.