Knock Knock

knock on the door gif
In a house full of teenagers, being interrupted in full flow is as common as having to change our plans last minute, and having to put off what we want in order to prioritise others. It happens frequently and these days we are resigned to having to work around it. Not only are we masters at the art of the silent orgasm, we are also creators of opportunities where there seem to be none, experts in maximisation of time, and lords of changing plans last minute.

Being interrupted is never a good thing and when you half anticipate that it will happen, you sort of always have one eye and ear on the door. I have to hand it to HisLordship, he is excellent at dealing with these incidents and interruptions when they do occur and he will try to shelter me from the fallout if that is at all possible. His work in emergency response and crisis management has definitely come in handy over the years and whether it is managing a bomb threat, the fallout from an explosion, or an interrupted scene, he remains calm and thinks logically.

During the first four hotel nights we managed to sneak together, we were interrupted each time by fire alarm and the following evacuation: over the years this has continued and evolved to include interruptions by parents, ex partners, work and children. One of the most recent, and the worst in my mind, was an interruption at about 11.30 one evening, by our teenage daughter. This will happen from time to time as they knock to let us know they are home, or have brought a friend back to stay, or have been passed over by the latest romantic interest.

Because we are used to such things, we will prepare accordingly  and conceal ourselves, as far as possible, behind a locked bedroom door. One of the first things HL did was to add a hidden dead lock and this is something that we engage during our more intimate moments. Now the walls are pretty thin and I am sure they have heard the odd thing over the years but in my mind, seeing your parents in full swing as it were, is taking it to a different level. So they knock, we scamper around, and then with a bit of fumbling and twisting, the door is opened.

So there we are. We are naked on the bed with my freshly caned arse perched over his knee. He has spread my legs as wide as he can in that position and is using the wand on my clit as he screws a glass dildo into my bum. Cue a knock at the door. We both freeze for a second and he switches off the wand. There is a second knock to the door and I recognise who is there at the “Mum?” which follows.  I answer, “Yes?” which transpires to be a mistake. My thinking is that she will then tell me what it is she needs help with.

Wrong. The door, seemingly unlocked, then opens and she proceeds to tell us that there is water pouring through the ceiling. She is in the room and we make eye contact as I utter my surprise that such a thing should be happening.  Without thinking I adopt that habit when in shock of repeating the statement as a question. “There is water pouring from the ceiling?” I say. It feels like it takes an eternity, as I lay there naked, bum in the air, with the glass protruding from me and the wand sitting waiting as if some giant karaoke competition is about to kick off. I hope that by making eye contact she has not noticed what is in her periphery but it seems unlikely.

HL tells her not to worry and that he will deal with it, and she leaves. My stomach is in knots as I have scarred my child for life and he tells me to attend to her while he attends to the ceiling.  She has not exaggerated. Water is indeed pouring through the ceiling and I mean pouring. He climbs up into the loft, having pulled on some shorts, and discovers and issue with the water tank. I am less sympathetic about his ruined record collection than I should be as I make my way sheepishly into my daughter’s room to discuss the issue.

She tells me it is fine and laughs it off. She can see that I am mortified and I can only hope that she has seen less than I imagine. I take my feelings out on HL who has forgotten to lock the door. He makes time for me in between setting his albums out to dry in one of the bedrooms and we return to the scene of the crime. Alas on this occasion the moment is gone, and we are content just to curl up together in shame and hope that tomorrow brings new opportunities.


4 Thoughts or Fiction

This is an older post that was originally written for an earlier 4 Thoughts prompt about Interruptions. I have updated it and added it for the current topic of Bedroom Bloopers as I felt that it fitted. Thankfully time has passed since this event and we all seem to have moved on, but you will not be surprised to learn that my complete mortification has lessened none with time.

Posted in Submissive Journal and tagged , , , , .


  1. Oh, I am NOT looking forward to that part of having teenagers! I’m taking notes, so thanks for sharing. Dead bolt, important, check.

  2. What an embarrassing experience and how well you told it, delightful!
    She will give what she did see a fitting place in her mind in due time. You two playing with each other with love and affection

  3. Oh my gosh you had me giggling. im so sorry this happens! We have managed so far with our kids, and i hope we never deal with this!

    • Yes it was pretty unlucky. And of all the times I pester HL with the question about the locking of the door, the one time I don’t – bingo 🙂

  4. I giggled in commiseration… We too have teens. We had to install a key lock on our door because I was obsessively asking Sir if it was locked during scenes/sex/playtime.
    So sorry that happened but you two handled it well… And the retelling was a pleasure to read. ?

  5. I like how cool you were with her—I can picture the scene and it is funny! At least from the outside looking in! Thankfully we haven’t had a similar situation. Though a few times things have been close.

  6. We used to do it on the sofa in the lounge when our son was in bed upstairs. I recall one evening he walked in to find her laid with her bare arse uppermost and stroking my cock in readiness . . . .

  7. Oh I remember those silent orgasms and I too would have been mortified – I always separate my mother and lover roles and when they ever met I did not enjoy the feeling x

  8. We managed to dodge the outright displays but I remember having to explain to my then preteen daughter what the sounds she overheard (when we thought she was asleep) might have been. Trying to convince even a child that the sound of paddle of bare bottom is something else….Fireworks on the TV? Naw. Bats in the attic? Naw. Crows in the gutter? Keep explaining till they get bored and wander off.

    • And yet the truth would silence them lol. Ours refer to “the sex music” in that we will play music in the bedroom to cover the sound. They know full well though, clearly. ?

  9. We too have a house full of kids from teen to preadolescent. We’ve found they are masters of getting through doors even when locked! ? Queen is also always asking about the door and now makes sure it is not only locked but that the knob is tied to something and can’t move no matter what! At least your daughter seems good with it… ?

  10. I had an incident similar to this. Although it was fire and not water. No record collections were harmed, but I’m not so sure about my son… lol
    It’s certainly a benefit to have a level-headed thinker about in these moments. When I was a nurse , I did well-informed these situations, but now at home, with my kids and neighbours, I a bit less composed. 🤣

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