For fuck's sake! Mom can be so infuriating sometimes: "What do you mean, 'I thought we agreed to share everything'?"
"Well sweetheart, it's quite embarrassing hearing second hand from the other girls that you saw Mr Mark the way God created him."
We are the only ones left on the beach, they all seem to have had enough of the sun while I napped, and have returned to the house.
Jesus: "Embarrassing? For you?"
"Yes, Soph. For me," she blushes, apparently just thinking about it...
"How am I supposed to handle learning something like that in a big group without feeling awkward?"
Always so goddamn proper: "Well, first off, it's 'Mark'. I am 18, and we're all grown up now... Secondly, nothing happened. The girls must have just been running their mouths."
Nobody's around, but she leans forward as if sharing a secret: "Clearly something happened, and whatever it was, It is a private thing, not something to announce to the world. Not common gossip!"
She averts her eyes and takes a deep breath: "He is our host Soph. Had you told me, we could have figured something out. What we don't want, is to embarrass him! We'd like to be invited back here, don't we? It has been such a perfect place to enjoy time off in the summer for many years now. We don't want to put this privilege in jeopardy, do we?"
The rhetoric is a bit much. What is she afraid of? We've come here at least once a year for as long as i can remember. Miss Amy and mom has been best friends since toddler group at the library: Saturday morning workout buddies and book club on most Tuesdays. Dad and Mr Mark plays soccer together every week - well, they are just 'Amy' and 'Mark' now: we're all grown up.
"We've always had a good time here, why would we not come every summer? We even have our own rooms..."
Emily is my best friend. We're heading to college in different states, but I can't imagine not being friends and spending summers here with her family, forever.
"I wasn't exactly announcing it to the world, mom," what's her problem? "I told my friends in confidence."
Who the fuck blabbered?
"How did you hear?"
There is a look in her eyes i can't quite decipher: "It was shared in casual conversation around the breakfast counter. Thank God the men were still sleeping, or out for their morning run."
Oh, God!: "Come on mom, I am sorry you were embarrassed, but this is not the end of the world."
She can be such a prude: "I saw him naked for a couple of seconds, it was a complete accident."
A friend once asked me if we were Mormon. That's how prudish our family is.
"You can just laugh it off like the rest of us, you know. It's no big deal."
"We all seem to know exactly how big the deal is, and that is the problem!" there is a distant look in her face: "Coffee, eggs, bacon and Mr. Mark's 'enormous cock, just a regular Monday morning beach house conversation."
"There is no denying it was impressive," what a cock, an electric tension flows across my skin just thinking about it: "but he covered up and apologized as soon as he realized I was there."
I pause, thinking back:
"He came out of his room, yawning and scratching his head as i was standing at the fridge reviewing lunch options." He was completely casual about it, maybe baffled more than anything: "He didn't seem embarrassed, and I am pretty sure he has forgotten about it already mom."
We may have been a little tipsy last night, that's what you get when you are at a house full of liquor. I simply had to tell the girls: it created quite the excitement, and Emily didn't seem the least bit fazed about it.
Mom seems a little less tense. "Did I ever tell you what happened in Barcelona?" she leans back on the towel now.
"Yes mom, I know. You won your age group at the Triathlon."
Mom, Amy and a bunch of their other workout buddies always have a competition goal they work towards. They went to Europe one summer, to see the sights and compete in an event hosted each year close to the old Olympic park. Mom did particularly well, having prepared intensively with Miss Amy to improve her stroke for the swim segment.
A smile forces its way to her face: "Well, it is more to the story, and my glory. Since we are all grown up, and we share everything..." She takes a sip of the Whiteclaw in her hand: "... I happen to know exactly how big Mark's cock is!"
The fuck. Is she drunk? My mum never drinks, I have never heard her say 'cock' out loud. Now, with just a Whiteclaw for courage that's the second time in a minute.
"It's the biggest I've seen," I say: "but I haven't seen that many."
"OK honey, when i say 'everything', I don't mean everything," mom blushes again. "Don't bring up walking in on your mom and dad," she looks away...
Her presumption of my innocence is cute. I wasn't even thinking about that, but now that she mentions it, it was quite an awakening for this teenage girl: "My God, you could have just locked the door."
"...and you could have just given us our privacy. God, you haven't shared that story too with the girls, have you?"
My mom on top, her size-zero butt sinking onto dad's cock, over and over. I remember freezing in the doorway at the sight, and screaming when mom screamed: more surprised from the spectacle than anything, and filled with curiosity about what I had seen.
"I don't think he was hard, but Mark is for sure bigger than dad."
"As far as size go..." mom takes another sip, looks at the can in her hand and dents it with her thumb: "...compared with Mark, I don't think anyone quite measures up."
Awkward. She is going to share literally everything, isn't she?
She adjusts her position on the beach towel: moving to a lotus position facing the ocean. I've always admired how she takes care of her body: the protein shakes, her early morning workouts. She is super fit, could probably win another triathlon tomorrow: toned muscles, no ass, flat stomach - flat chested...
My gaze must have lingered just a little too long. She selfconciously adjusts her bikini top, provoking not even the slightest jiggle: "You got YOUR assets from your dad's side of the family," she nods at my boobs.
I don't really care where they come from, but I am happy to have all the right curves in all the right places.
I cup my boobs, for mock comparison, they are more than a handful. I look over at her, scrunch my face, and push them together in a showgirl pose: "Are you judging, or just admiring?"
My McKayla face always make her laugh: "Size is not everything." Her version of cupping stretches the bikini fabric across her boobs, highlighting her rock hard nipples, the size of my aromas: "Just remember, you won't stay 18 forever. Consider your aunt Julie: younger than me, but her breasts already sags to her knees"
"Well, I can make that can happen even at 18." Balancing on my butt, I pull my legs back and squeeze my boobs together between my knees. Pulling my bikini bottom tight, I feel a tingling sensation the length of my exposed labia.
I scrunch my nose again as I let go of my knees, and my boobs fall back to their resting position, they fill the top generously, but they are firm: a real asset.
We giggle, my boobs jiggle. She throws her head back, and wiggles on her towel: her boobs doesn't move: "Mom, now you're just flexing..."
Shs leans forward, her hand brushes across her chest, she jitters as they come to a momentary rest on the peaks of her small breasts, and looking up at me she blushes again.
"Anyways, that year your dad and I had our problems."
Problems: she's referring to Sheila Maroney, coaching my soccer team along with dad: let's say they shared more than the sideline - it was the reason I stopped playing soccer. God. Why mom forgave him in the end is beyond me, she swallows: "That bitch!"
"Well, the trip to Barcelona saved our marriage. Dad was completely out of my mind. For over six months Amy and I focused on preparing for the competition."
She gets a distant look on her face: "Mark was so generous: not the least bit jealous of Amy spending all that time coaching and providing emotional support. It got me through it all and helped me win the race in the end."