I glanced at the clock beside my bed. 5:30. Still a couple of hours before I had to get up. I turned over, trying to get back to sleep but the bedspri...gs seemed to get louder, more insistent. Soft, hushed sounds drifted from their bedroom. I heard a sharp intake of breath, then a quiet but steady moaning mixed with the squeaking springs. Dad must be getting a morner, I thought as I covered my head with a pillow, trying to blank the sounds from my mind. It didn't work.In my minds eye I could see. I'm about to scream, being quiet will rip me in two! I'm sweating now, not as much from the extertion - Ben's doing most of the work - but from the strain of being quiet in and in such erotic hip-rocking pleasure. Ben's fingers are in my hair, and my head is pulled back to his shoulder, my back arching. Not painfully, but it's a stretch. His lips and tongue meet mine, and I put as much strength as I can into kissing him, praying that I can release somehow. It works, to a point...I can keep at. More

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