Memories of Spying on My Parents When I Was a Child (Part 2)

After publishing two voyeuristic diary entries, I received a lot of attention and likes from my friends on 69, so I decided to write another one to share with readers.
It must have been when I was in high school. One weekend evening after dinner, my father and I were watching TV. My mother finished tidying up and stood beside me for a while. Suddenly, she said she felt she had gained weight recently, and her waist had thickened. Then, she clenched her fists and started jogging slowly in place. At that time, she was facing sideways to me, and the curve of her chest was particularly obvious, full of the charm of a mature middle-aged woman. I thought my father, sitting diagonally opposite my mother, must have seen it even more clearly. Sure enough
, I saw that my father's eyes were already fixed on my mother. My mother seemed to notice, smiled slightly, rolled her eyes, and then ignored him. Seeing them exchanging glances, I thought to myself that there was bound to be a good show that night.
After a while, I excused myself to go back to my room to rest. Anticipating what might happen between my parents, I took out a magazine I'd secretly bought, something called "The Beginning of Man," from under the bed and started reading. It was basically sex education, but for my energetic young self, it was incredibly stimulating and exciting. My penis felt like a hot, hard cannon, so I lay on the bed, moving my lower body as I read until I ejaculated.
I checked the time; it was almost eleven. I got up to tidy myself up and went to the bathroom. Passing my parents' room, I heard the sound of a television (back then, conditions were simple; there was no distinction between living room and bedroom). After using the bathroom, I went to the door. They were watching a pornographic videotape; I didn't know when they'd rented or borrowed it. I quietly pushed the door open; it wasn't locked. Peeking through the crack, I saw them sitting side-by-side on the bed, legs outstretched, backs against the bedside table. My father's hand was constantly rubbing my mother's stomach, and my usually conservative mother was touching my father's genitals through his underwear. I heard my father say, "It's been so long since we've had this, haven't you missed it?" My mother nestled shyly against my father's chest. Then my father chuckled, rolled over and pinned my mother down, his hands roughly squeezing and kneading her breasts through her bra. My mother wrapped her arms around him, while I, squatting outside the door, excitedly thought: Ha, the show's finally starting…

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