Regular Family Breakfast

Her fingers trailed down Marc's spine, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin, and she ignored the way his hand landed much lower than her waist—fingertips brushing the curve of her ass before jerking away. His breath hitched, but Olivia merely hummed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as if she hadn't noticed.

Poor boy can't help himself, she thought, warmth pooling in her stomach.

Across the kitchen, Silvia squealed, her chair scraping back as she bounced up, her perky breasts jiggling with the motion. "Daddy!" she chirped, already slipping off her stool with the grace of a kitten angling for cream. Olivia turned, her own breath catching at the sight of Kyle leaning against the doorframe, his gaze heavy-lidded and amused as Silvia practically vibrated in place.

"Morning, girls," Kyle murmured, his voice rough with sleep as he took a slow sip of coffee, his gaze lingering appreciatively over Silvia's bouncing enthusiasm. Olivia watched her daughter's hips sway as she practically danced toward him, her pert breasts jiggling with each eager step, her pink nipples already stiffening under his attention.

Kyle chuckled, setting the mug down just in time to catch Silvia as she launched herself at him, her thighs wrapping around his waist with practiced ease. "Someone's eager," he mused, his hands settling possessively on her ass, fingers kneading the firm flesh as she nuzzled into his neck.

Olivia felt her own breath hitch, skin flushing as she watched Silvia put her hands around Kyle's neck for balance and start to grind against Kyle’s growing erection, until he had to let her go.

"Sorry about the long shower," Kyle muttered, still catching his breath.

For a moment, Olivia really wondered why both she and her daughter were so pent up around this guy. He was short, shorter than Marc, more on the heavy side, and nothing about his personality screamed dominant or reliable.

"Damn, girl. Let me sit first!" Kyle growled playfully as Silvia tumbled to her knees in front of him, her fingers already working at the drawstring of his sweatpants. She pressed her face against his thigh, her lips parting against the warm fabric. Olivia watched from across the kitchen, her son's flushed cheek pressed against her bare chest as Silvia whined, "But Daddy, " her fingers persistent, ", you promised I'll get a load this morning!"

"And you will! Just let me sit first," Kyle chuckled, swatting Silvia's hands away from his waistband with a playful growl. She huffed and crawled after him as he moved toward the table, her lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout that made Olivia bite back a smile. The sight of her daughter's pert ass rising with each exaggerated crawl was enough to make Olivia forget the way Marc squirmed against her.

"Well, what's for breakfast? I'm starving," Kyle sighed, easing into Peter's chair at the head of the table with a satisfied groan. Silvia knelt between his spread thighs, her chin propped on his knee, fingers tracing idle patterns on his inner thigh just above the hem of his sweatpants.

Olivia moved to the stove, her hips swaying deliberately as she lifted the remaining marinara, pouring it over a fresh plate of pasta before carrying it to Kyle. The steam curled between her bare breasts as she set it before him. "Here you go, pasta with extra sauce," she murmured, her fingers lingering near his wrist as she took the seat beside him.

Kyle grinned, catching Olivia’s wrist and pulling her into a slow, deep kiss. At the same time, his other hand slid into Silvia’s hair as she finally managed to tug his sweatpants down.

Olivia sighed into his mouth as the wet, rhythmic sounds of Silvia’s blowjob filled the kitchen, the slick pull of her lips, the muffled gags as she took him deeper. Kyle’s free hand found Olivia’s bare chest and squeezed hard, making her whimper into the kiss, trying to stifle it.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her chest flushed red from the imprint of his fingers. And her daughter, it seemed, had wasted no time. Silvia’s small hands where now wrapped around Kyle’s thick cock, her pink tongue darting out to lap at the bead of precum already glistening at the tip.

“Daddy,” she breathed, voice husky with want. “Can I… can I join you and Mommy again? Please?” Her fingers stroked him slowly, lazily, her dark eyes wide and pleading as she looked up.

Olivia’s breath caught. Her nipples tightened at the memory of yesterday, Silvia’s lithe body pressed against hers, her small, sweet nipples in Olivia’s mouth, her gentle hands roaming, and Kyle’s weight rocking them both into the mattress. Across the table, Marc shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes fixed on his plate.

Just as Kyle reached for Silvia’s hair again, Olivia’s phone buzzed against the table. The screen flashed Peter beside a photo of her husband grinning in his suit. She froze, fingers tightening around the device. Kyle raised an eyebrow, his grip loosening in Silvia’s hair as she whined softly at the interruption. A slow smile curved Olivia’s lips, she knew how much Kyle loved when she talked to her husband right in front of him. She slid onto the seat next to him, pressing her thigh against his.

"Keep eating," she murmured to Kyle, her hand already finding the back of Silvia’s head. "I’ll take care of this."

She swiped to answer, holding the phone to her ear with one hand while the other guided her daughter deeper. "Peter, sweetheart!" Her voice came out bright, steady, even as Kyle’s mouth found her shoulder, then lower, lips closing around her nipple before he calmly went back to twirling pasta on his fork. Olivia’s hand pressed firmly, guiding Silvia down until a wet, muffled gagging sound filled the space beside her. She kept her voice pitched just loud enough. "No, everything’s perfect here. Marc’s studying hard, Silvia’s… adjusting."

Across the table, Marc’s fork scraped against his plate. His jaw clenched at the sounds, at the rhythmic, wet slurps and gags of his sister’s throat working, at the way his mother’s fingers curled in Silvia’s hair while the other hand held the phone steady.

"Yes, the kids miss you," she had to get louder when Silvia gagged harder, tears spilling as she took him to the root. Kyle’s free hand slid up Olivia’s stomach, palming her breast lazily while he chewed another bit. She arched into his touch, her voice never wavering. "Of course, love. We’ll see you soon." She ended the call, exhaling shakily as Silvia pulled back, gasping, lips slick and swollen.

"He misses you kids so much," Olivia breathed, fingers tightening in her daughter’s hair. Then she frowned. Silvia had slowed, bobbing only shallowly, catching her breath. Olivia’s gaze sharpened. "What do you think you’re doing?" she muttered, grip turning firm. "You don’t stop until he’s finished."

She shoved Silvia’s head down hard, forcing her nose into Kyle’s pelvis just as his hips bucked upward with a groan. Hot semen flooded Silvia’s throat, she tried to swallow, but there was too much. She gagged violently, pulling back with a strangled cough as thick ropes spilled from her lips and dripped from her nose. A strand of white clung to her nostril, and for a frozen second, she just sat there, gasping and dribbling.

Kyle burst out laughing. Then Silvia, wiping her face with the back of her hand, started giggling too, a wet, wrecked sound. Even Olivia snorted, shaking her head. "That’s one way to do it," she murmured.

Across the table, Marc shoved his chair back, face dark. He didn’t say a word, just turned toward the hallway, "Sit back down."

Kyle's voice cut through the room, quiet and unhurried. Marc froze. Olivia's eyes slid to her son, and she tilted her head slightly, a look he knew well. Don't test me.

Marc stood there, fists clenched, breathing hard. Then, slowly, he lowered himself back into his chair, eyes fixed on his plate.

Kyle exhaled, wiping his fingers on Silvia’s cheek before pushing his empty plate aside.

"Good boy," he murmured, watching Marc’s jaw tighten.

Olivia leaned in, licking a stray drop of cum from Silvia’s chin before sliding her tongue along her daughter’s cheekbone, cleaning the mess with slow, deliberate strokes. Silvia sighed, tilting her head to give her mother better access.

"Marc," Kyle began, leaning back in Peter’s chair. His tone was casual, but his fingers tightened possessively around Olivia’s waist. "I know this isn’t easy for you." He let the words hang before continuing. "But here’s the thing, your mom and sister? They’re happy."

He shrugged, as if the matter were settled.

"You want to be part of this house? You keep quiet. Eyes on your books, hands to yourself."

Silvia smirked, licking the last traces of Kyle’s cum from her lips as she slid back into her chair, "Yes, little brother. You really need to keep some restraint," she drawled, stretching her arms above her head in a way that made her small breasts perk up, her pink nipples stiffening visibly. Marc’s fingers dug into his thighs, his sweatpants tenting shamelessly as Silvia leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table with deliberate slowness. "Like now," she added, tilting her head. "It’s disgusting."

Marc’s face burned crimson. "Oh yeah?!" His voice cracked, his finger jabbing toward his sister accusingly. "Well, she teased me with her nipple earlier!" The words tumbled out in a rush, his pulse hammering in his temples. "And *you* said she can’t do it!" His wide eyes flicked to Olivia, searching for confirmation, betrayal sharp in his voice.

Olivia sighed, rubbing her temples. "Marc…" Her tone carried weary disappointment, but she turned to Kyle regardless, her fingers tracing idle circles on his forearm. "He’s right. Silvia did tease him with her nipples before breakfast." She didn’t miss the way Kyle’s grip tightened around his coffee mug, his gaze darkening as it settled on Silvia.

Silvia’s smirk faltered for half a second before she shrugged, rolling her shoulders back. "Oops," she murmured, though her lips twitched with suppressed amusement.

Kyle set his mug down with a quiet thud. "Silvia," he said, voice low.

She blinked up at him, feigning innocence. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Up."

Silvia didn't hesitate. She rose, hips swaying as she rounded the table toward Kyle, stopping just inches from Marc's chair. "Now?" she asked, her fingers trailing over the table's edge.

Kyle leaned back, folding his arms. "Now."

Silvia bent forward, bracing her palms flat against the wood, her ass arched high, her panties pulled taut between her cheeks. "Daddy should punish me," she murmured, glancing over her shoulder. "But I want Marc to count."

Marc choked. Olivia pressed her lips together, watching her son's throat work, his eyes glued helplessly to his sister's spread thighs. Before speaking, she glanced at Kyle, waiting. He gave a slight nod, and only then did she turn back to Marc.

"Marc," she prompted gently, her voice soft but certain, "you heard her."

Kyle's hand came down hard—the sharp smacks echoing through the kitchen. Silvia gasped, her back arching.

"One," Marc croaked.

Silvia giggled breathlessly when Kyle's hand came down a third time, her toes curling against the tile as her hips jerked forward. "T-two," Marc stammered, his voice cracking under the strain of watching his sister's panties ride higher with each stinging slap. Olivia sipped her coffee with both hands, desperately trying to keep herself from masturbating to the sight of her daughter getting rightfully punished by her Daddy.

Kyle paused on the fifth strike, tracing the reddening imprint of his fingers across Silvia's ass before delivering the next blow harder, making her cry out. "Fi-," Marc choked out, his face burning hotter than the marinara. Silvia's breath came in ragged little gasps now, her nails scraping against the table as she arched her back higher, presenting herself shamelessly. "Keep counting, baby brother," she purred, her voice thick with arousal.

By the eighth slap, Silvia's moans had dissolved into squeaks, her thighs trembling as Kyle's palm left a stark red mark across both cheeks. Marc's "eight" was barely audible, his hips twitching involuntarily against his chair. Olivia sighed, setting her mug down as Silvia sobbed out a plea, "More, Daddy, please", her body taut like a bowstring.

The tenth strike landed with a wet smack, and Silvia shrieked, her legs buckling as tears spilled down her flushed cheeks. "T-ten!" Marc blurted, his voice breaking as his hips jerked violently. A dark stain spread across the front of his sweatpants, his entire body freezing in mortified shock. Silvia turned her head just enough to peer at him through wet lashes, her lips curling into a heavy tired smirk despite her tears. "Disgusting," she whispered hoarsely, licking a stray tear from her lips.

Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling through her teeth. "Marc," she began, but he sprinted out of the kitchen before she could finish, his socked feet slipping on the tile. his room door slammed seconds later. She turned to Kyle, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. "I'm really worried about him," she murmured, her voice tight with concern.

Kyle barely glanced up, his fingers still tracing lazy circles on Silvia's reddened ass as she moaned against the table. "Relax," he muttered, sliding his hand between her trembling thighs, fingers slicking through her dripping folds. "He is just a virgin teenager with too many hormones and not enough outlets." Silvia keened, bucking against his touch, but Kyle withdrew his hand, ignoring her frustrated whine. He held his glistening fingers to Olivia's lips, watching her tongue dart out obediently. The taste of her daughter's arousal bloomed salty-sweet on her tongue.

Silvia squirmed, her hips jerking uselessly against the table's edge. "Daddy, please—" Kyle cut her off with a sharp pinch to her inner thigh. "Your punishment isn't over," he said idly, wiping his hand on Olivia's cheek before returning to his coffee. "You don't cum until I say so." Silvia's whimper was half-protest, half-desperation, her thighs clamping together instinctively. Olivia swallowed thickly, licking the last traces from her lips. "Will she still be able to join us tonight?"

Kyle smirked, catching Olivia's chin between his fingers. "Depends. If she helps her mommy find a way to fix her little brother's attitude..." He leaned in, nipping Olivia's lower lip. "Maybe I'll consider it."

Olivia bit her lip, glancing toward the hallway where Marc had fled. The problem, she realized with a twist in her gut, would require more than just another awkward talk about boundaries.