(Grace)Is five breakfasts*

Grace Yarland gulped down Mr. Blakey's gooey expulsion… Her sixth of the day. She could feel it's warmth clinging to the walls of her throat as it slid down to join the others. The strong, salty flavour made her feel a little queasy for a moment. Semen was ALL she'd managed to line her stomach with this morning… To be honest it was all she got for breakfast most mornings… Once you got into a particular routine, people kind of expected you to stick to it… She didn't want to disappoint anyone…

First, there was dear Dad. She had to rise and shine bright and early to catch him before he hit the road. She’d often have to stumble down to him while still bleary-eyed and wearing her pyjamas, sinking yawning into his lap while he had his second cup of coffee. Every day he told her she didn’t need to… Every day she did so anyway… He worked hard for the family. The least she could do was give him a proper send-off.

Then came Daniel. He’d often catch her running through her own morning wash routine. She tried to make sure she’d got him done BEFORE she’d brushed her teeth… just to bask in those few moments of minty freshness… but really it didn’t seem to matter. There was always another penis. He’d sometimes just get her to use her breasts for the most part… so they could both get on with other tasks too. She didn’t particularly LIKE squeezing herself down into his crotch while he was sat on the toilet… but it did save time…

By the time she’d got herself properly washed and dressed, Simon was usually waiting for her. Sat at the dining table reading the paper. As the most white collar, highly paid and professional of her brothers… Gracey nowadays found herself a little intimidated by the clean cut of her elder sibling. She’d heard the others say that his company laid on professional oral experts for each of he and his colleagues’ breaks during the day. The otherwise highly-acclaimed teen sword-swallower didn’t really know how she stacked up against such experienced competition… but she guessed the fact that he still stuck around for a taste of home every morning boded well. Though perhaps ‘taste’ was the wrong word for his side of the experience… it was her who knew the flavour of each of them basically by heart now… She wondered if she would feel nostalgic for such times, in the years to come... with presumably far more notches upon her tongue. Her time with Simon was often a silent and meditative period, where she could mull over such thoughts.

Next came the boys, those two still wading with her through the world of education, rather than the more imposing realms of work. She battered on Marcus’ door on the way past, but knew there was no hope of rousing him quickly, whatever she tried. Jake, however, was the baby of the bunch. HER most precious little star… if she let herself slip into her own maternal instincts. Only about nine months younger than her he might be… but she still coddled him like a lost puppy… she just couldn’t help it. Grace slipped into the youngest Yarland’s room and slid herself under his covers. As always, his proudly standing morning wood was poised and waiting for her. She blew on it gently. Tenderly lapping at its base before slowly making her way up the shaft. She kissed the head, then slowly encompassed the whole thing within the soft warmth of her mouth. A sleepy sigh above told her her efforts were successful, gently drawing her brother out of the world of dreams. But she stayed buried under the sheets until her task was fully complete, and she had received her fourth sticky serving of incestuous seed. Once that was done she sent the young man off to wash, while she set out his clothes from the wardrobe. She headed downstairs to fix up his breakfast too, perfectly timed so he could eat before the bus came.

It was at this point of the morning that she might occasionally have found time to grab herself a bite as well… of something slightly more solid than man-cream. Yet, more often than not, such thoughts were cut short by a thunder of feet down the stairs. Marcus was always in a chaotic state of being nearly late. His out-of-town arts-college requiring a whole different bus route. But he would whinge to high-heaven if he didn’t still receive the same treatment as all his considerably more organised siblings. Grace had simply learned to just assume the position. Dropping down to her knees while the two of them stuffed whatever was offered into their faces, she found her own gullet being stuffed again too. Marcus had a rough habit of fucking her skull like it was just a melon with a hole in it, a symptom of his need to cum fast enough to still make it out the door in time. His put-upon sister could do nothing but grip her own knees tight and bear it, snatching breaths through her nose where she could. Still, she knew he had a tender side really… and it was all just part of the morning experience. If she was honest with herself it was actually quite refreshing, to be used so honestly and straightforwardly. So many of the other boys and men she met seemed to endlessly dance and skip around the fact that they were only interested in her as a hole to pour themselves into… At least she knew her family loved her for all her varied talents, the play of her tongue none-the-least. Marcus would pull himself loose with a quick and truthful ‘Thanks Sis!’ before dashing out the door. Then she would be left with a precious few moments to wipe her mouth dry, clear away the dishes and pick up her bag… before walking out into another day herself.