Apples & Oranges Too

"How the fuck did this start? And why am I dragged into it?"

"He's my hero," Shayla said, hugging me. "Taz, too. Mikey and Taz saved me from bad shit so many times! And I had to reward my heroes, right? I could fuck Taz right away, no problem. But Mikey and me, we just kissed, and rubbed, and didn't do anything like incest, y'know. Our pubes were private. We had rules.

"But then we started doing threesomes with everybody, and sometimes we got sloppy, and I guess my mouth and Mikey's cock just kind of slipped... and here we are. And now that we're here. We'll stay here. We cannot undo it.

"And you? Because we love you! And this brother-sister-sister sex stuff, hey, that's just love and fun and more love! We're not having Mikey's babies. We're just loving."

I saw the logical flaws but did not comment. Neither did Olivia.

Open Communications

(Do they talk of fucking?)

*****

The Todd-Manson household had little time for family meals. Nearly all schedules clashed. We were more a living junk collage, a hanging mobile, than a real family.

The family as abstract modern art. Chew on that concept awhile.

Olivia's brief return gave a good excuse for all to gather at the extended dinner table upstairs. That table is solid walnut, and monumental. Well-paid Grandma Todd bought it, its massive sideboard, and the ten sturdy chairs, back in 1927 for a fuck of a lot of cash, half the cost of a cheap car.

Alas, neither butler nor maids attended us. Servants are so hard to find these days.

Anyway, even Taz was there for a rare meal at the house. He had been a ghost lately, drifting by, scarcely seen, although he did stop in for occasional hero-reward fucks with Shayla, and sometimes I was there so we could double-dick her in varied ways.

Oh yeah, the dinner. We all talked. I am not sure who listened. But we were mostly polite. Disjointed conversations do not encourage interruptions. Someone rants and then someone else rants, revealing their thoughts, if any. Those in adjacent chairs whispered. I sat between my sisters. We did not whisper much.

One thing that was not discussed: sex.

"That's not talk for dinner," Belva said sticking a fluffy nipple in my mouth.

"Yeah, sex is for breakfast, rating how it was," Briana said, stroking my cock.

"Talk of cocks and cunts at dinner only spoils the lasagna." Belva switched nipples.

"But it's okay with coffee and croissants. They're sexy enough," her sister said.

Briana stopped talking when she started nibbling and blowing me. Good thing.

I could not respond verbally. Belva had pushed me back and lowered her flaming labia to my quenching tongue. Talk came later. Well, Belva chanted my name, but that was her, not me. Then Briana sat on my cock, the sisters kissed, and talking stopped.

This might make tomorrow's breakfast chatter. How will I rate? But I digress.

You probably reached this part of the account thinking, "Hey, this dinner talk is going to reveal who they're fucking and which are family." But we did not. Sorry about that.

We 'kids' downstairs had a pretty good idea of who filled whose bed when, and we probably did not want to know what the 'adults' did upstairs. (Infants have infantry. Adults have adultery. Go figure.)

Big boy Tank Manson was rarely here so we do not know if he fucked his mother or sisters or brother or my sisters or father. Belva and Briana privately admitted occasionally fucking my dad Dylan but said they avoided blood brothers. I do not think my sisters did our dad, but who knows? They have said nothing of that.

Back to the Olivia Todd Homecoming Feast. All the Todd-Manson clan except distant bisexual Tank was seated, with elbow room. Only two of the three extensions were needed for us eight. I wonder -- do the 'adults' hold fuck parties on the table? It is surely sturdy enough for kinky groups.

Dinner was frozen meat lasagna, decent-enough packaged salad, packaged garlic bread, jugs of dago red from DiDi's client's winery, and store-bought brownies, not the homemade kind with lots of cannabis. I miss home cooking.

We spun off to resume our discrete lives after dessert. Nothing vital or incriminating had been said. No secrets were revealed. So much for open communications.

My computer-nerd friends say cyberneticist Claude Shannon developed the modern theory of communications as a mathematical function of bandwidth, redundancy, error-checking, much arcane shit. All the big telecom and computer firms used Shannon theory and codes.

Then philosopher Gregory Bateson, husband of anthropologist Margaret Mead, redefined communications very simply, and transformed industries. His model: Communication, and thus meaning, is "any difference that makes a difference". Your carefully-crafted message don't mean shit if it does not change anything.

What would have changed had we communicated openly at dinner, if we had talked about who we were fucking in and around the house?

"Hey Dad, I'm fucking your new wife, and your daughters, my sisters, and your new wife's daughters and sometimes her son."

"Well son, I'm fucking your sisters too, and my stepsons when they're here, and your cousins in town. Don't be judgmental."

"Honey, I'm fucking your and my sons, and your niece and nephew in town, too, as well as Uncle Dave when he's not in jail."

Yeah, that would have gone over well.

=====

Dinner broke up. Cleanup was almost as easy as preparation. DiDi put old jazz on the upstairs sound system. We 'kids' drifted downstairs. Taz rode his motorbike somewhere. I went to my studio to study. Belva and Briana came in to suck and fuck. Olivia and Shayla came in to watch, and comment, and to spend the night with me. We rotated oral daisychains and other combinations. Briana and Belva watched and commented. It was one of those nights. At least Midori and Cyndi did not crowd in.

Next: Apples & Oranges Twee, on the road?

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia Smurf is copyright (c) 2018. The voices in my head insisted this be written so it is inevitable. Your constructive comments and suggestions are always welcome. If you like this, join the 1%ers and VOTE!