Quiet Breakfast

There was an odd silence that hovered over the three of you as you ate breakfast at the kitchen counter. The occasional clink of cutlery was heard more often than any real conversation. There were short sentences spoken. A question. An answer. Prolonged silence. Clink. Repeat.

“What do you guys want to do for dinner?” asked your mother.

“Let’s just get pizza,” replied your aunt. You nodded. Back to silence.

“How about lunch?” tried your mother.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge,” Leslie answered. With that settled everybody concentrated on their immediate morning meal for a while.

“So you just… want to stay home all day?” wondered Patty, looking up from her plate to her sister.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Do a bit of cleaning.” More nods of understanding from your mother. Quiet again. You noticed your mother kept glancing over at the clock as breakfast wore on. You wondered why but didn’t ask.

“So you sucked John’s dick today,” started Leslie casually. You and your mother froze mid bite and stared at her. “Oh come on. I’ve been doing it for ages now. We’re all family here. It’s no big deal.”

You nearly choked at what she was saying. That you were all family was the big deal.

“No big deal?” your mother said incredulously as if speaking your thoughts for you.

“Oh you know what I mean.” Your aunt brushed off her own comment with a wave. “It was fun right? What’s a bit of oral sex, really? Are you scarred for life now, John?” She pointed her fork at you have directed the question your way.

“Uh well… no,” you began.

“Exactly,” your aunt cut in. “You’re a scientist. You know it’s all just… y’know... biology.”

“Biology?” repeated your mother with exasperation.

“Hey you liked it right?” Leslie said, redirecting her fork. “Tell me you didn’t like it.” At this your mother closed her mouth, pouted, opened it to speak… then closed it again. She crossed her arms.

“You know I like giving head,” she said. “You know … too much about me.”

“Jesus,” you breathed, unable to stop yourself as you heard your mother’s admission. She glanced at you and her lips became thin.

“Well I don’t want John to feel bad,” explained your aunt with a smile. “He should know that you sucked his dick because you just looove sucking dick.”

“Ohmygod Leslie! Please!” Your mother’s embarrassment wasn’t as strong as it probably would have been a day ago. She sighed and looked to you. “Me and your aunt overshared too much growing up.”

“And then some,” added your aunt. Your mother shook her head but was smiling to herself. To be honest you had a pretty clear idea of how intimate their sisterly relationship really was already. Talking about it only seemed to lift a weight off your mother’s shoulders. Your aunt stood, picking up her empty plate to take it to the sink. “Well then I guess for my next load I’ll let you suck that dick you like so much.”

“Let me?” blurted your mother before she could stop herself. “You don’t-... er… I mean.” She looked to your wide eyed expression. “I just… I just like … oral sex in general. It’s not that I like your… penis, John. I mean… it’s a very nice penis. Very nice… er… I mean…”

You were staring at the woman in amazement at how flustered she could get, tangled up in her own verbal spasms. She grabbed her own plate and rushed to the sink. “Leslie! You don’t own my son’s penis, okay? His penis is not some thing you get to give other people permission to… I mean… it’s… you..”

Leslie turned to face her sister, holding a wide smile, devious on her face.

“You are saying penis a lot,” noted your aunt. Your mother wrinkled her nose, utterly annoyed by how her sister’s manner.

“You’re trying to make this weird, stop trying to make it weird.”

“And I say again, we went way beyond weird like two blowjobs ago, sis,” stated Leslie.

“Okay okay that’ll do,” you said, finally chiming in. You knew your mother wasn’t getting mad exactly, but her irritation was clear. She was a swirl of conflicting emotions and this teasing was raising her blood pressure a little too fast. “Stop making fun of my mom,” you told your aunt.

“She knows I’m just playing,” Leslie responded. She moved forward and slid her hands around your mother’s waist and pressed herself in close to the woman. The sisters’ faces were now inches away from each other, one’s expression tight with a frown, the other smiling sweetly. “Right?” asked Leslie. Your mother’s remained stone faced for long seconds, then finally relented, softening.

“You are the worst,” she sighed.

“And the best,” said Leslie, then she kissed Patty deeply. You will never ever tire of watching two women make out, and you will remember forever the sight of your mother and aunt locking lips like this. You watched them tongue wrestle, lips smacking loudly, for about two minutes, until finally they parted and your aunt acknowledged the quiet observer. “Well?” she said, raised her eyebrows at you. “Don’t just stand there. It’s time for my next load. Get over here and do the dishes.” You couldn’t help grinning and nodded, then tilted your head.

“What?”