This story is a joint venture between a great writer, Down4anything23, and me. Make sure you check out the stories he writes; they are fab.

I was lying on my bed with Giavanna, my palms sweaty and my heart pumping, loud pulses in my ears. Mum and Dad were both out. For God's sake, I am nineteen, and I still live with my parents. I mean, just how crap is that? They are cool, most of the time, but they are overprotective still, giving me a hard time if I want to stay somewhere overnight or something. They treat me as if I were still a schoolgirl, and that was the chat I was half having with Giavanna. I say half because I was focused elsewhere.

“Mica, you have to come,” she said softly.

“I will get it sorted, promise,” I answered, thinking about her party next week, the one she had come around to talk to me about.

“No, you have to cum…” Giavanna turned onto her side, and as her hand rested on my breast, a shiver ran up my spine. I looked at her and smiled. Her hand squeezed and then moved down to pull the hem of my skirt up. Her fingers softly traced my crease through my knickers. God, I felt horny. I was about to turn and kiss her when the front door slammed shut downstairs. Bugger, someone was home, and my bedroom door was wide open.

“Sorry,” I mouthed to Giavanna.

"Hello, love, are you in?” Mum called from downstairs.

“Hi, Mum, we are up here,” I called. “Giavanna is here. She’s having a party next week. We are talking about it.”

Giavanna was very naughty; her finger was still on my knickers, and as I was shouting down to Mum, she was easing the leg hem away, and her fingers were in my wet and very slippery crease.

“Okay, love, is she staying for tea?”

I looked at Giavanna, and she shook her head. ‘God, no,' she mouthed and then laughed. I had to stifle my gasps.

“No, Mum, Giavanna will be going soon,” I managed to shout down to Mum.

“Okay, love," Mum called up, and then I heard her fussing around in the kitchen.

I gulped, and then my back arched as Giavanna slipped a finger past my entrance, through my opening, and deep inside my fanny. I gasped loudly and then slammed my hand over my mouth. My bedroom door was still open, and sound carries in this house. Her finger wiggled and then began sliding in and out.

Her green eyes fixed on mine as her tongue slid around her mouth. I was on fire, sweating as I tried hard not to make noises. I heard the kitchen door shut and then Mum on the stairs. I quickly rolled away from Giavanna, her finger leaving my fanny with an audible plopping sound. I sat up and had only just rearranged my skirt just when Mum’s head appeared through my door.

“Hello, love; hello, Giavanna.” I could tell as she looked around the room that she was looking for signs of immorality.

“Hello, Mrs M.,” Giavanna replied. “I just popped in to see Mica, but I have to be getting back soon; Mum needs to go out, and I have to look after my younger sister.”

"Okay, Giavanna, yes, well, you know you are always welcome to stay for food.”

Giavanna got up, and as Mum headed to her bedroom, Giavanna sucked her finger that had been inside me, and then she gave me a quick kiss.

“I guess that’s all the bit of me you get,” I said. She winked and headed out of my bedroom.

I followed her downstairs and waved her goodbye, shutting the door behind her. I went back upstairs and into Mum’s room, my fanny still pulsing. Mum had started to get changed and was standing in just her bra and knickers. I walked up and put my arms around her. Mum turned to face me, her arms taking me in, her lips parting.

“I know I promised you would be able to have girls or boys over. That I would not be bothered by you wanting to have sex in your room, but I think you’re doing it just to make me jealous.”

Mum looked sternly into my eyes; her demeanour was that of an admonishing matron. I smiled softly, trying to put on a good schoolgirl face. My hands were on her back, fingers sliding down the bobbles of her spine to dip into her knickers and slide into her bum crack.

“Is it working?” I asked her, pouting as I looked up. “Are you jealous?”

Before she could respond, my mouth, which was just at the level of her collarbone, met the rise of her left breast. Mom has wonderful and large boobs that I love. Mine were, of course, fully formed, yet I hoped that one day they would look as good as hers. I also wished that their taste would be just as good for that matter. Mum hummed softly, her blue eyes closing as I pushed the lacy fabric with my tongue, searching for her obviously erect nipple. No sooner had I reached it than her long fingers gripped my hair and pulled my head back.

“Ouch! Mum…”

She had a stern schoolteacher face on at full volume, her eyes piercing and commanding.

“Enough of that. Your father will be home soon. We cannot be so risky.” I was genuinely disappointed; Giavanna’s finger had me in a state, and a quickie with Mum would have provided the perfect satisfaction.

“Fine. Your loss, Mum, your loss.” I eased my hand out of her bum crack and pulled away. “I was properly horny, but you left me hanging.”

She smiled at my cheek, lowered her blonde head slightly, and locked me in a nice warm kiss. Our tongues danced around, familiar with the feel of one another. Then I surprised her by pulling away again.

“Nope, you said too risky.” I turned away and left the room, shaking my hips a bit more than necessary. “Now you’ll have to shag Dad later. Make sure that you leave your door open.”

I heard her chuckle softly, and I was sure her head was shaking at my naughtiness. One good thing was that I was getting her to where I wanted her to be: turned on but needful. One bad thing was I was extremely horny, and Dad would be home soon, and I wouldn’t be able to take advantage of that. I had no time to let my fingers walk down my now aching crease and push my own button. While Mum was still upstairs, Dad came home with packets of fish and chips, curry sauces, mushy peas and bread cakes. I busied myself getting the plates out and distributing the fish and chips. I manipulated what I dished out so that Dad had the most, and I had the least. I was trying to watch my weight.

As I was leaning forwards, moving surplus chips from my plate, Dad came up behind me, his hard dick pressing into my buttocks. His large left hand sneaked around me and cupped my left breast. I stood straight and turned around, his dick now pressing at my crease. I looked to the stairs and then opened my legs slightly so he could press deeper. I moaned as Dad leant down and kissed me, his tongue seeking mine, our mouths engaged in a tongue waltz. Dad suddenly pulled back and moved to the cutlery drawer. I was breathless and surprised, and then Mum walked into the kitchen. Dad must have heard her approach. I hadn’t. We sat and we were treated to a rather dull recap of their days.

“Giavanna’s having a party,” I said as I was about to scoop more chips into my mouth.

“And?” Dad asked, his mouth full of chips, no decorum at times. Fish coated in curry sauce was filling my mouth as my words fell out.

“And I am going.”

“Oh, you think?”

I chewed and swallowed, as I don’t speak with my mouth full, unlike some I could mention. “Yes, Dad, I am.” I paused for a moment. “And I shall probably stay all night.”

“Oh, really?" Dad said, fixing his eyes on mine across the dining table. “If you do go, you don’t need to stay; I shall pick you up.”

"Yes," Mum added. “We won’t sleep if you are out all night.”

This was their usual way of controlling me, as a team. “Good grief, you two, I am nineteen! I am a grown woman. I can look after myself.” I was now defiant and more direct, as if there were no further discussion to be had. “I shall stay; you can pick me up in the morning, but not too early.”

Mum went back to eating as if there were no further discussion. “At night, not in the morning.”

I sighed, masking my exasperation with a bite of breadcake stuffed with chips. I would have to work on them before the party. I knew from past successes that Dad would agree to my wishes once I had his dick in my mouth. I would have to get him on his own before the party, and that was not always easy. I had an idea.

After we had finished our fish and chips, my stomach was a little bloated. (I always eat too much; I just can’t say no, even though I try to eat less.) As we sat watching MasterChef on the TV, Mum whispered something to Dad, and by his reaction I could guess what. He was on a promise. I smiled and thought, ‘Good; parents should always shag as much as possible.’ Especially when their daughter is at home to listen and hopefully watch. Mum bade me goodnight and went up. I think she wanted a shower. I synched up to Dad and put my hand on his crotch.

He groaned but did not stop me. His dick was already hard, probably from what Mum said and also from being with me earlier.

“When Mum goes to Tesco on Friday,” I said, squeezing his dick through his trousers, “make an excuse and don’t go with her.”

“Oh?” he said, his dick twitching.

“We haven’t shagged in a week, Dad.” I climbed on top of him and spread my legs. “We might even get a chance when Mum goes to Gran’s on Thursday.”

He looked to the stairs and sighed. “Mica, no, don’t! It’s too risky.”

There was that ‘no’ word again. I ground into him, my soaking knickers wetting his fly. “No. Dad, no? Thursday. We can do it then.” Mum would be at Gran’s on Thursday evening.

He went to kiss me, and just like with Mum earlier, I backed off and stood back up. “Too risky, Dad, you said it was too risky. Hurry upstairs; Mum’s waiting.” I sat back down on the sofa so that he could head up to their bedroom.

He grumbled as he headed to the stairs. “Cheeky minx.”

I am, it is true. I am a manipulator too.

I waited a few minutes to give them time to get started. I really didn’t need to, as they were both already feeling the call. I turned off the TV, checked the front and back doors and headed up. I quietly walked up to my parents’ door, and as expected, the door was ajar. They were at it in a loud way tonight, their gasps and sighs very audible through the open door. No preliminaries were, it seemed, necessary; they were already shagging.

Mum was on her back with her legs pulled back and her feet pointed to heaven. Dad, still in his shirt, was pounding away, his trousers and underpants in a puddle on the floor. His wet dick made sloshing noises as it slipped in and out of Mum. He was grunting like an old boar, his white and slightly hairy bum flexing. I wanted to go in and watch closer, but I stood firm; I didn’t go in.

“Oh David! Yes, like that! Oh my gosh!” Mum’s wet hair was splayed across the pillow, her shower towel half under her. Dad must have caught her coming out of the ensuite. And due to my little tease on the sofa, he was unable to wait. Her gorgeous, big boobs were flailing about on her chest. It took all I had to not burst in and latch on to her wine-cork nipples.

She tossed her head about, and then she caught my eye, and I am sure that she smiled. I had my dress up in my left hand, and my right was stroking my button and sliding up and down my dripping crease. My knickers were abandoned on the floor nearby. I would leave them there for one of them to find. They could think they were for them.

Since they had both started shagging me last summer, I had never let on that the other was also enjoying my youthful body. I enjoyed the spycraft of it all, the deception, the manipulation, the control. My favourite phrase was 'You mustn’t tell Mum (or Dad),’ as was appropriate.

As Mum was pounded into the mattress, her electrics took hold; she gasped, she rose off the bed, and she orgasmed, her body shaking like a leaf in a storm. That set me off, and as my two fingers plunged up my fanny, I released; my pressures blew, and electrics flooded my body. I bit my wrist to stifle my scream, which I probably didn't have to do, as Mum was loud enough for the Jenkins in number 12 to hear. I might pop around at some point and see if I can catch Mr Jenkins on his own. He has a tidy-looking bulge.

Between rhythmic grunts, Dad breathed out, “Lena! Quiet down: Mica will hear!”

I smiled – as if it really mattered. I was just about to back away to go enjoy some text chat with Giavanna and another good orgasm when my parents changed position. Mum went onto her knees, and they got into doggystyle, and as they shagged and swayed, Mum’s boobs rocked back and forth. My hand went back to my wetness. Dad lined up and was soon going at it again. Then, through his concentrated sex face, which I loved, he saw me in the shadows. I pulled my wet fingers out of my fanny and licked them and blew him a kiss. He grunted and thrust in hard and held. I guessed he had finished and was flooding her fanny with his spunk.

I left them to it and went and lay on my bed; Mum and Dad finally settled down. I started texting Giavanna, telling her I had just seen my parents shagging. She sent a sick face emoji, and I laughed, telling her my fingers had been deep in my fanny as I watched. We bantered back and forth; I knew that she often shagged her dad, but she didn’t seem to shag her mum. Odd, I thought. Why one and not the other? I mean, she shagged me. So, it was not as if she didn’t like a little girl-on-girl.

Thursday came, and Mum was at Gran’s. Dad brought home some Indian takeaway, a korma for me and a madras for him. We sat on the sofa, our curries on our laps in bowls, each of us with a spoon and a naan bread. It was our version of a TV dinner. After we had finished, I took the bowls into the kitchen. In the kitchen I put my hands up my dress and slipped my knickers off before heading back into the lounge.

I stood in front of Dad and climbed across his legs, my face towards his. I settled onto his lap, and as I kissed him, my tongue deep inside his mouth, I could feel his dick stirring as I pressed my crotch against his. I had the time I needed to arouse him, to get him so worked up that he would do anything I asked. When he had agreed to me going to the party and staying, and only when he agreed, I would let him shag me.

It sounds as if I am doing him the favour, letting him shag me, but, no, far from it. I wanted his dick inside me as much, if not more. I had no regular boyfriend, and Dad’s dick was almost the only meat I got these days. I rubbed my crotch back and forth along his fly, his dick straining to be released.

“Oh, Dad,” I whispered softly into his ear, “what is that between my legs? Are you feeling naughty?”

I pressed down harder and Dad groaned as his dick twitched. “I bet that your dick is really hard, Dad.”

“Yes, baby,” he mumbled into my mouth.

“I bet that it would taste good, Dad,” I said, my voice as sultry as I could manage.

“Yes,” Dad gasped as I ground on his crotch, pressing as hard as I could onto his dick. Could he feel that my fanny was bare, I wondered?.

I undid and then pulled his shirt out of his trousers and ran my hands over his chest. I could feel Dad’s fingers behind me, seeking the catch and zip on my dress, my back feeling the cool air of the lounge as my zip was lowered.

“Oh, gosh, Dad,” I whispered. “Whatever are you doing?” I asked.

I felt his hands on my dress, and then it was pulled up over my head and dropped onto the floor beside us. Dad’s hands went around my back again, and I felt the relief as my bra was undone and my boobs were free, no longer pulled up and supported.

“Oh, Mica,” he gasped, “you absolute minx. No knickers.”

“It seems you are rather overdressed, Dad,” I said as I eased off his lap and stood in front of him, my legs apart, my hands hiding my boobs, but my fanny in full view.

His hand went to his waist, and he undid his trousers. Dad lifted his bottom and slipped his trousers and underpants down in one movement. His dick stood...