Wait in the hall

You sat there for about five minutes, wondering when your mother would fall asleep. Wondering if maybe both women had already fallen asleep after all of that. Maybe you should just go back to the couch then and try to sleep it off. It being this solid rod of steel between your legs. And then you heard your aunt’s faraway voice.

“Patty,” you heard her say. It was quiet, but with you right by the door you were able to make her voice out without a lot of trouble at all.

“What?” responded your mother. You cursed. She hadn’t fallen asleep yet. But then it didn’t seem like your aunt was actually checking that.

“I… I need to…” she began, sounding uncertain and trailing off. You heard the sheets moving.

“What’s wrong, Les?”

There was a stretch of silence as you sat there, this eavesdropping somehow feeling a little invasive even though you had just watch the two women fuck.

“I need to … tell you something… “ your aunt went on. You blinked at the opposite wall. She wouldn’t. “I’ve got… a problem.” Oh my god. “I’m … I’m addicted.”

More silence, or maybe you just couldn’t hear anything with the sound of your own thumping heartbeat in your ears.

“Addicted?” repeated your mother, sounding genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Like on the news, Pat.”

“On the news?”

It was almost as if Patricia’s brain wouldn’t let her connect the dots. Until it did. “Wait what? That? Addicted...to... *that*?”

You wanted to look into the room again but sensing how on alert your mother now was you couldn’t risk being seen. There was laughter suddenly and you almost reconsidered peeking. “Very funny Les,” chuckled your mother. “A lesbian cum addict… ha! Good one.”

There was a feeling of relief that came over you, but that was short lived as your mother’s humorous tone faded.

“You… you’re being serious?”

“I am,” said your aunt flatly.

“Oh my god…” You could hear the stop and start of sentences that your mother would make whenever she was trying to speak before her brain could put all her thoughts together. “How? How can you be… how does that happen?”

“I don’t know,” replied your aunt. “But I got tested. More than once. I’m definitely one of those cum addicts now.”

There was more silence, a tenseness that you weren’t sure was imagined by you or not.

“Are you okay though? Are you in pain or anything?” The worry in your mother’s voice almost made your boner go away. It took her a minute, but once she realised what this might mean for her lesbian sister she automatically went into caring sibling mode. “My god… anything you need Les, I’m here. You know that right? You should have told me sooner.”

“I’m okay. I’m getting treatment.” Your aunt was remaining ambiguous… but as the facts began to sink in for your mother…

“That’s good,” she said. “That’s good that’s… hold on... “ You held your breath now. Imaginary gears could be heard, turning and turning.

“Did John test you? To make sure you really have this… thing?” Despite the willful ignorance that was Patricia’s brain’s self defense, you could hear in her tone that this was only the first question she was going to ask that involved her son the Cum Addiction Scientist.

“He did. He confirmed it.” Still oddly stoic was your aunt.

“Les… I… you have to tell me this… you have to answer me one question…” your mother went on. She didn’t want to ask it, not in words… she didn’t want to know the answer really. Your aunt stopped caring and didn’t wait for the question. She wasn’t going to lie to her sister any longer.

“John’s been *giving* me treatment,” she said. “He’s my donor.”

You weren’t breathing, you realised, and you had to take a sharp breath as quietly as possible. The silence seemed to go on forever. It didn’t though.

“I’ve read about that sort of thing online,” said your mother outloud. “About how… how donors give their doses… I don’t… that’s just … that can’t be how, right? You’re not… he’s doing it into a specimen cup or something right?”

“I’m sucking his cock.”

“What?” snapped your mother, almost yelling with how incredulous she was and how forthright Leslie was. “Are you joking? You-”

“I’m not joking. I’m a cum addict. I need cum. I suck his cock to get it. Do you understand? And I like doing it.”

There was more silence. You wanted to see the look on your mother’s face. To know what was going on in there exactly. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine what could possibly happen now. You couldn’t stand for some reason. You knew you should get up and get back to the couch just in case your mother suddenly stormed out of the room. Your ear twitched. You heard … a soft wet smacking sound.

“You’re joking,” you heard your mother say quietly. Soft smacking sound.

“I’m really not,” responded your aunt, her voice oddly breathy. That sound again. “I’m a cock sucking lesbian.” The sound again. You knew the sound because you had just been listening to it a few minutes ago.

“I can’t believe this Les,” whispered your mother. Another kiss. “You… you shouldn’t do that… not with… him.” Another kiss.

“I trust him,” breathed your aunt, continuing another kiss. “Like I trust you.” More kisses. “Because he’s your son.” Kiss.

“Oh god don’t say that,” whined your mother. Their lips met loudly again and there was a moan. “That’s so wrong…”

“It’s turning you on,” said Leslie. They kissed again, longer, louder. There was the sound of shifting sheets again and the kissing stopped. You couldn’t take it anymore and, moving with glacial care, peeked around the doorway with supreme stealth. You saw the women in the dim lamp light, your mother was sitting up now, her knees to her chest though they were covered in the silk sheets. Your aunt lay next to her, resting her head on her hand. Neither women paid attention to you, and whatever agitation your mother might have had at first had fizzled out to a low simmer that bordered on acceptance.

“How could you let this happen?” said your mother, looking at your reclining aunt.

“I couldn’t bring myself to go out and find some strange man, Pat,” Leslie sighed, then sat up also. “He didn’t want to do it either,” she explained. “And at first I made him do it in a cup… but then it sort of just … I tried not to. Y’know? I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the taste. I didn’t like looking at his dick. At any dick. But I waited too long and my body almost shut down. He had to just do it straight into my mouth. There was no time to put it somewhere else. I still remember that first hot splash. Vividly. I remember hating it. But I remember how it made me feel so much better almost instantly. It was gross but I needed it.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” your mother said to fill the awkward silence.

“Oh, I acquired it alright.” The two women half chuckled, but the seriousness of it all still hung thick in the air. You weren’t sure if your mother wanted her sister to continue this story. You weren’t sure if you wanted her to hear it. But you both knew Leslie needed to tell it. To unburden herself.

“Pretty soon I just… I needed more,” continued Leslie. “I needed it more often. I needed to get off. This addiction thing really fucks with you, you know?” There was a sympathetic nod from your mother but she was still hugging her knees to herself. “Pretty soon I needed to suck his cock. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to taste it… feel it in my mouth… feel him pulsing as he unloaded his cum down my throat.”

“Jesus, Les,” sighed Patricia, awestruck by her sister’s lurid confession.

“I know! I was so fucking fucked up,” Leslie groaned. “You have no idea how confusing it’s been. I felt like… I felt like I was betraying myself.”

“Les c’mon,” started your mother, shifting now and taking her sister’s hand in hers. “It’s this fucked up disease. It’s not your fault.” You were starting to feel a bit guilty too now. You were so swept up in the carnal pleasure of it all you hadn’t considered the full psychological ramifications this was having on your aunt.

“That’s the thing, Pat,” she said. “I don’t even care about that any more.” Patricia tilted her head curiously. “The lesbian in me… she’s sort of just… accepted it now. I don’t know. You make it better.”

“Me?” said Patricia.

“Being with you,” explained your aunt. “I haven’t been with girl since before I was diagnosed. Then you … you came along in the middle of it. And we went back to what we used to do… and I felt like me again. And now, again, tonight. I feel like… it’s not too bad. I feel like I’m me… lesbian or cock sucker or whatever... when I’m with you. And with him.”

The ‘Him’ she was talking about was obviously bothering your mother and for good reason. You could see her face in half-shadow, wrestling with complex, disturbing and confusing emotions.

“I need to get my dose now,” said your aunt. They exchanged a long look, your mother’s one of surprise, your aunt’s harder to read. Then your mother couldn’t hold it and looked away. She was staring at the floor but feeling that you were dangerously in her line of sight you pulled your head back into the hall.

“Is there no other way?” your mother asked, her tone a mixture of desperation and defeat.

“Not right now… It’s terminal without treatment, you know that,” Leslie said. There was that heavy silence again. “Don’t be mad at him okay? I told him not to tell you. I needed to keep it a secret so I could get my head around it first, y’know?”

You couldn’t know what kind of response your mother gave her.

“John will be waiting for me on the couch. I’m going to tell him that I told you.” There was the sound of bedsprings as one of the women got out of the bed. Soft footsteps padded towards the door.