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A son's thought and reason.

The shoes then pattered back out, leaving the door open.

Shaking a little with shock I crawled out and hastily pulled on my clothes. I heard Carol laugh downstairs and a deep male voice. I stood, trying to decide what to do, saunter downstairs and pretend I had been in the bathroom? Try and sneak out the front door at the bottom of the stairs?

While I was trying to decide I heard heels coming upstairs again and Carol called out in a low voice. "I won't be a minute." I panicked and dived back under the bed. The shoes came back into the room and the bed above me creaked, peering out at the mirror I saw she had sat on it and was looking at the mirror too, it seemed impossible she could not see me even in the shadows. Curiosity was fighting with sheer terror, she just sat there, doing nothing, then she cocked her head to one side, listening.

I heard it too, soft creaks as someone crept up the stairs. In the mirror Carol smiled and stood up, with a blur of static she stripped off her sweater, tossed it down right by my face where the familiar scent of her washed over me. She smoothed down her hair and did that twisting action again, thrusting out her breasts in the matching lace pink bra. Despite my predicament I was getting very excited again and my breathing sounded loud to me.

Carol put her back to the door and started going through some of the clothes on the dressing table as if looking for something. The door creaked softly and in the mirror I saw a man standing there, looking in, watching Carol. Carol selected something and turned, then cried "Oh!" and dropped it, then crossed her arms to cover her bra. "Mark, you startled me, what are you doing?" Mark did not answer, just stood there, looking at her.

"I think you had better leave," Carol said firmly. "I want you to go, now."

Mark stepped into the room and heeled the door shut, his eyes were roving over her body, openly staring. "Get out!" Carol said firmly. But Mark stepped up to her, got hold of her wrists and pulled her arms apart and stared down at her lace harnessed boobs. Carol squirmed, but was held fast.

"Take it off," Mark told her. He let go of her, she covered herself again. "Take it off I said."

"No," Carol's voice was so low it was almost a whisper. "Go, I don't want you, get out."

Mark just grinned at her and then slowly began to undress himself. "Stop it! What do you think you are doing, stop it now!" Carol gasped. Mark ignored her and straightened up, totally naked. It was my first site of a male nude in the flesh and it was a shock to see that quivering truncheon pointing up from a dark patch of hair, seeming to point up at Carol. The simplified diagrams in sex education had done nothing to prepare me for the strangeness of that object, and how it seemed to have a life of it's own. Carol too was staring at it, almost hypnotised, then suddenly she tried to dash past him for the door. Grabbing the handle she yanked it open but Mark slapped it back shut and shoved her. She stumbled and fell on the floor, I shrank back as we ended up almost nose to nose, but Mark pulled her up and pushed her up against the dressing table, then turned her around to face the mirror. She was panting and he pushed her head down so that she grabbed the table edge to stop herself being pushed down further. She was left standing but bent over, her hair wild and her eyes wide in the mirror.

Mark fumbled at her bra and she gasped "No, you have to stop!" But she made no attempt to struggle any more, just watched in the mirror as Mark struggled and cursed, I thought she gave a quick grin for a moment but then her scared look came back.

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