I'm writing to tell you that I ignored some advice that you gave me 25 years ago and to let you know what the consequences were. I doubt that you will recall my letter amongst the thousands that you receive, so I will recap briefly.
I explained that as an 18-year-old virgin, I heard my parents having sex and got so turned on by it that I made efforts to hear them again – I was able to hear them thirty times more over the next 3 years. It was towards the end of that period that I wrote to you.
I told you that I was preparing to enter my parents' room to watch them as they made love. We were all about to holiday together in a villa on the island of Elba and I thought that would be the ideal opportunity to do so. You advised me, in the strongest possible terms, not to do it. That is the advice that I ignored.
I can tell you that I gave my parents every encouragement to make love, without mentioning the topic, of course. I behaved impeccably, allowed them to canoodle in my presence and went to bed early.
I hit pay dirt just a couple of days into our 2-week stay. On hearing them kissing loudly in the bedroom, I made my way up the stairs from my room, to perch on the cold marble floor outside their door. There I waited, until I heard what I thought was the sound of them both getting close to climax. I was already hard and my penis was poking out of my pyjama shorts – I left it in that position.
Then, my heart beating loudly, I opened the door slowly and quietly. The only light was from a table lamp near the bed. My parents were on top of the sheets, naked and in the missionary position. I stood just inside the room, side-on to them, but their faces were next to each other, so I couldn't see their expressions. They seemed not to notice my arrival.
I watched as Dad continued thrusting into Mum. He was grunting loudly; she was panting frantically. Then Mum's breathing grew quicker – she was gasping, almost screaming, at which point Dad released a huge groan and held himself inside Mum. Three seconds elapsed, he pulled back and I saw the lower part of his engorged penis shaft glistening in the light. Then it was gone again, with another huge groan, deep inside Mum. She gasped and dug her nails into his back. He repeated the movement and their bodies were tense for a moment, before collapsing into each other, Mum shuddering with pleasure.
My parents stayed whispering sweet nothings to each other for a minute or so, and then Dad peeled himself off Mum. As Dad got onto his back, they saw me. They simply stared.
It was then that I pulled off what I call my masterstroke – I looked at my feet, broke down in tears and, sobbing, told them how I thought Dad had been beating up Mum, which is actually what I thought was happening the first time I ever heard them.
The bed creaked and I looked up to see Mum coming towards me. My stomach leapt in fear, but it had no reason to. She just took me in her arms and hugged me. I felt the wetness of her vagina through my shorts and a dribble of my parents' juices became trapped temporarily between our thighs. Mum whispered soothing words into my ear, and as I looked over her shoulder I could see Dad calmly cleaning himself up.
Mum guided me back to my room and laid me down on my bed. She told me we would discuss "things" in the morning. I pulled her close and Mum giggled as she asked, "So, you WERE pleased to see us?"
I had no chance to take in the cheekiness of the question, never mind answer it, as Dad passed by to go to the bathroom. Mum let go of me gently and got up to follow him, but as she reached my bedroom door, she turned and winked before leaving. The door closed and all I could hear was the faint gurgle of the shower next door. As I lay there, my mind racing, poring over what could happen the next day, I heard the shower cubicle rattle and, once again, the unmistakeable sounds of my parents kissing. I filled my shorts with several pumps of sperm and then fell asleep exhausted.
The next morning was unforgettable. Mum called me for breakfast, but in the cold light of day I found it difficult to face my parents, so I hid underneath my bed sheets. Eventually, Mum padded barefoot into the room and sat on the edge of my bed. "C'mon," she said, "There's nothing to be frightened about. What's done is done. We're not going to bite, y'know."
I turned to face her and she smiled at me in a reassuring motherly way, which rather contrasted to the way her cleavage was exposed between her dressing gown lapels and the momentary glimpse of the inside of her thighs as she crossed her legs. Mum went to the door and as she got there she turned to look back at me. I did not dawdle this time and followed her to the breakfast room.
Dad was sitting there already, eating. I hesitated to sit next to him, but he simply motioned to the spare seat and I sat. He wolfed down some cornflakes, then said in an authoritative tone, "Right, me and Mum have something to discuss with you."
"Hang on," said Mum, "Let me serve the boy and let me sit down first."
Dad relented and after Mum gave me my breakfast, it was she that spoke. Mum explained that she and Dad were going to tell me when they were going to have sex and on those days they would expect me to go to bed early. Dad said that if I did that, the previous night's episode would be forgotten. It was a fait accompli; I could only agree.
Two or three nights went by until I was told to retire early, but of course this was like a red rag to a bull. From the moment their bedroom door closed, I was outside it, my eye to the keyhole. For the first time, I was able to watch sexual intercourse 'from A to Z', my cock exploding in my shorts as they came together.
The next morning we all played it cool, as if nothing had happened, yet I was suppressing a burning desire to speak about what I had done. My stomach churned and churned and churned, but I could not say anything while Dad was there. It was only after he left the villa to get some food that I managed to force out a question to Mum - I asked her whether she had enjoyed herself the night before.
Mum looked at me half shocked, half amused. "Yes, thank you very much," she said drily.
I told her that the noises she made seemed to show that. Mum cocked her head to one side and asked if I had heard them from my downstairs room. It was then that I confessed to having watched all of their love-making at the keyhole. "So it wasn't an accident when you walked in a few days ago?" she asked.
I shook my head and after a brief pause, Mum told me that she knew that anyway. She had worked out that I had been listening for years. She had seen when I was tired, she had seen the semen stains, the occasional letter 'S' on my calendar. Mum broke into a smile and asked me why I was so obsessed with a couple of old fogeys, when I should have been chasing girls my own age.
I hesitated and then told the truth – that I found both of them and what they did was very beautiful and it turned me on. Mum laughed bawdily and said: "I could see that the other day!"
That broke the tension and I laughed too. There was a bit of an awkward silence and I shuffled my feet before speaking again: "I was wondering if I could help out in some way when you're both doing your thing."
Mum looked puzzled, so I tentatively suggested switching on lights, opening condoms, cleaning up afterwards. She shook her head in puzzlement, but said she would think about it. With that, I kissed her quickly on the cheek and we busied ourselves getting ready for a day on the beach.
However, the answer came quicker than I thought it would. It was Dad who took me aside that same evening. He put his hand on my shoulder and told me that I would be needed a few hours later to help as I had suggested, but I would have to sit in the corner of the bedroom when I was not needed. Naturally, I was shocked and excited, but I did not know what my signal would be.
We sat down for dinner and Dad was all over Mum. They supped wine aplenty and I was allowed some too. They fed each other food and, in one memorable moment, Dad put a grape in his mouth, looked at me, then leant over the table and placed it into Mum's mouth with his tongue, before she swallowed it with a lascivious gulp. It was then that they parted and got up from the table. Dad held out his hand and tugged Mum to the bedroom. I needed no further sign to follow them.
As I closed the door behind us, they were mauling and pawing at each other's clothes. I put on the table lamp and turned off the main light; Mum and Dad carried on as if I wasn't there. Their tongues entwined and Dad pushed his hand down the front of Mum's skirt. She opened it up and it fell to the floor, revealing her silk oyster pink knickers.
Dad slid down Mum's body and pushed down her underwear, exposing Mum's beautiful, natural black bush. He buried his face in it and Mum held the back of his head to keep him there, as she shouted out how good it was. At this point, I stripped myself naked and grabbed some condoms. I put one on myself to masturbate into as I continued to watch.
Mum took off her top and bra, as Dad licked her vagina, then drew his tongue up her body, between her breasts and placed it back in her mouth, to Mum's noisy approval. Then Mum pulled Dad's clothing off, exposing his erect penis. I opened another condom and proffered it to Dad. I was surprised when he told me to fit it on him, but I did, even though it seemed odd to be touching his member. After I had done that, Dad addressed me directly, telling me to "look and learn".
Mum had lain back on the bed in the meantime and now she parted her legs to expose the inside of her vagina. A quick flicker of Mum's eyes towards me as she did so convinced me it was for both Dad and me to glory at. So it was that I could see close-up, for the first time, the reason behind the gasp of almost pain, of pleasure-pain, that I had heard so many times in the past when Dad inserted his penis into Mum and conquered (what he thought) was rightfully his.
I watched as he ground against Mum, trying to snatch kisses from her, but she always turned her head away, ostensibly to moan. To me, it was obvious she was using this as a pretence to look in my direction; her eyes searched mine pleadingly, but I did not understand why.
Their machinations came to a stage when Dad asked Mum if she was close. Mum did not answer directly, imploring him instead to "Come darling, come" and, right on cue, he did. I have to say Dad was very impressive: he thrust in deeply one final time, his buttocks really taut, emitting a huge grunt, followed by several relieved, exhausted pants. Dad lay on top of Mum for a few seconds, stole a few greedy kisses from her mouth and then swiftly pulled out.
He stood back, hands on hips, plonker dangling under the weight of his ejaculate, and admired his handiwork. Dad and I could see the flattened tangled mess of Mum's pubic hair, garlanded with thin trails of her natural lubricant. I was also overwhelmed by the smell of her sex as it hit my nostrils. Every woman's is different; Mum's was my reference point. Her fastidious bodily cleanliness could not deny the strange fishy allure and the sweet odour of her sweat. However, my brief reverie was interrupted abruptly. With a half-look in my direction, Dad gestured me forward with his hand: "Go on my son, she's all yours."
It seemed absurd, but he was giving over his wife to his son. I was incredulous, wanting to believe what I was hearing, but being such a fantasy I could not accept it. All I could say was: "Wha'?"
Dad smiled: "It's your mother's idea Alan. We thought it was about time you lost your virginity and what better way than to keep it in the family?"
I looked at Mum and she lifted her arms towards me, hands outstretched, inviting me in. I almost floated towards her.
"That's it Alan," said Dad, "Kneel between her legs to start off with."
I looked at Dad and he was plunging into a knapsack. He pulled out a camera phone.
"Not many boys have a permanent record of what you're about to do, but you will," he said.
Mum clasped my hands in hers and gently lowered my body so that I was resting on her stomach. She lifted her neck and kissed me on the lips, two, three times. They were the sweetest kisses I had ever experienced. It was not the taste, but their exquisite beauty, they were tender and kind and loving, like the caress of rose petals.
I could barely respond, but then Mum darted her tongue in and out of my mouth, and all of a sudden my lips were moving on hers with a familiarity that could only be born of genetic instinct. Sensuous is an inadequate word to describe what we had in those moments.
Then, by mysterious means, without me noticing, all in a natural arc, I was inside her. Except I was not 'inside', because that is simply a physical position – it was much more than that.
The ease with which we were together was astounding. I found myself imitating Dad's grinding motion without even trying; Mum's responses were not even responses, because they were simultaneous but opposite movements that preserved our unity. Everything beyond us ceased to exist, until the explosion.
It was like son et lumière. My eyes opened to see her eyes and they were ablaze, and then I collapsed into her so that my mouth was by her ear and hers by mine. I professed my love for her, my own mother, and she did for me, her own son. Then it started, I think, with her moan, which seemed to shatter my eardrum. It all descended from there. My mind blanked, my cock tensed and bulged and spent forth my cum, and I let out an enormous animal groan into Mum's ears.
We set off reaction after reaction in each other. I felt Mum's soft flesh under mine, bucking and convulsing, and then we lay exhausted, silent. I cried and Mum consoled me, "There, there," and stroked my back.
Dad was in my peripheral vision again, camera phone in one hand, his penis as hard as a rock in the other.