Smalltalking

I considered waking her up anyway, I was bored and there was nothing to do in the car. But the further the car drove, the bumpier the road became.

I was annoyed at first. "These south European countries need to get their shit together and start taking care of their infrastructure."

But out of the corner of my eye I noticed that slowly, but steadily - my mom's summer dress was slipping off of her shoulders. I turned my head to watch so quickly that I almost broke my neck.

In fact, the dress was so far down already that I could see the top of her areolas.

The car came to some turn and as we turned, her dress slipped even further down, completely revealing her soft, pale breasts. Each one of them was just slightly smaller than the size of my head.

They swung and swayed with the motion of the car.

Not sure what to do in a situation like this, I proceeded only to observe. I didn't want to wake and embarrass her. And I didn't want this little gift I'd received to be covered up either.

But as we kept on driving, I realized that the dress was still slipping off every time the car turned. It was so far down her body that I could see the shading of her pubic hair.

I had to close my eyes for a second because they were at risk of popping right out of my head.

Nervously looking at mom's sleeping face, I quickly shoved my right hand down my panties. The amount of fluid in there could have drowned someone if they approached unprepared. I was sure that I was going to cum any second, just a minute and I would be finished.

I started fingering myself as quickly, and quietly, as I could. And tough I was really horny, the edge kept moving just beyond reach.

The more my fingers played and rubbed and probed and prodded, the more on edge I became, but it's like there was a fence there at the edge that I couldn't quite get over.

All this time that I was playing with myself, I kept my eyes fixed on my mom's crotch and breasts. I could smell the smell of my own scent everywhere and knew that I couldn't keep it hidden. But I also had good reason to assume that my parents didn't know what my sex scent smelled like.

Looking at her breasts, I got the impossibly appealing urge to just quickly reach out and grab them.

I used my left hand to squeeze my own breast, but it just wasn't the same. I squeezed it anyway for a while because it felt nice and was really sensitive right now.

Alright.

Now or never.

I had to do it, because I knew, somewhere deep in my subconscious that if I just stroked my mom's tits that I would have an amazing orgasm. My non-subconscious (regular conscious) agreed that it was very likely. Holding my breath and hoping that the car wouldn't explode, my hand reached out and softly touched the breast.

To my horror - mom looked down.

"Huh. I see what you're trying to do. But it's down here."

With that she took my hand and moved it down to her vagina. Her pubic hair was silky smooth and now that my fingers were stroking it, I realized that small drops of 'excitement' were everywhere in her pubic hair.

She wanted me to help her reach an orgasm. Maybe as much as I wanted her to help me reach an orgasm. This seemed, to my mind, to be a very beneficial arrangement for both of us.

Both of my hands relocated to my mother's body.

Looking into her eyes, I slowly put first one, then two fingers inside of her.

All the while, her eyes had that joking, mischievous look about them. Like we were doing something naughty. And we were.

As my fingers moved slowly in and out, with me putting pressure upwards when inside, I started to sort of get a feel for the surrounding area of her mound. She had a soft, dark bush around her vulva and so the features weren't fully visible. But as my fingers went all the way in, my palm rested on her vulva. It was really puffy, soft and warm. Much more pronounced than mine was, and to me it felt really erotic.

I moved my hand in a small, circular motion, petting the kitten - so to speak.

And then she put one finger inside of me. Oh my god. I wasn't prepared for it and just the feeling of her hand pushing the finger in drove me quickly to the edge of the edge. I felt like a sledge hammer had knocked down the fence and I was in free fall.

My head, dizzy from the heady feelings, fell onto her chest, onto her warm bosom. Instinctively, I grabbed a nipple in my mouth to kiss it and lick it.

I felt the orgasm build up. I squeezed my thighs together to keep her hand where it was and -...

I don't know how much time passed, but I woke up by something pulling on one of my toes.

"It's dinner." mom said, her face hovering above mine. "It's dinner now. Come on. Get up."

"Grapes memorabilia." I said, confused by the dream I'd been having. I didn't want to accidentally say what I had just been doing in the dream, but I couldn't think of coherent sentences that didn't involve "Fuck me, oh my god, please make me cum".

I paused. Did I say that last sentence out loud? I looked around. Mom was looking at me, waiting for me to get up. Sveta was asleep next to me. Ok, so I had managed to keep my mouth shut. Thank god.

The sun was almost completely down. Though there was still some kind of light illuminating the outside, it was clearly dark now.

We lived on the sixth floor in an apartment in a fairly reputable part of town. Not to say that we haven't lived in our fair share of shit-holes, after mom separated with dad. Housing in any capitol is an issue and a huge cluster-fuck, unless it's like ... Iceland where housing is not only available, it's mandatory. But the result of us living so far up was that we didn't see the lights from the streetlights down on our street, making nights a bit darker for residents of upper stories.

"Hey Sveta, get up. There be food." I said, nudging her gently into consciousness.

"Yes, dad." she muttered and kept on sleeping.

"It's me. Linnea. Do I really look old enough to be your father? I barely even have a beard." I said, not really expecting a reply back.

"No, you look lovely." she said, waking up. "I just want to kiss you and -..." she broke off as she noticed that we weren't alone. "-... and high-five you. And study with you."

"Uh. Mom knows." I reminded her. "But still, we should get up. I didn't expect that we'd fall asleep for so long. I kind of feel like we wasted the whole day."

"But it was a good sleep." Svetlana said, smiling.

"I can't argue with that." I agreed, thinking back to my dream. And boy what a vivid dream that was. Typically, I didn't remember even one percent of what happened to me in my dreams.

It was always something vague about me going to get ice cream, but there was no ketchup at the store so the whole day was ruined because what kind of a fool eats ice cream without ketchup? Nonsense like that.

The food was fried potatoes with onions and mushrooms.

"It smells really good." Svetlana said, appreciatively sniffing the air.

"Wait until you taste it. That's when it really picks up in impressiveness." mom said, placing drinks for all of us on the table. "I didn't even burn it."

At first when we sat down and started eating, things were silent. Not entirely awkward, just silent in us being busy shoving food into our mouths.

"So Svetlana." mom said eventually. "How are you doing at school? I hear that you are a hacker, is that right?" I was sure she said that intentionally to get under my skin.

"Ehm ... not exactly. I study programing with focus on assembly systems. Not very flashy, unfortunately. Everyone keeps asking me if I make phone apps." Sveta laughed, patting her chest abscentmindedly.

"But can you hack into banks and so on?" mom asked, persisting with the hacker thing.

"I mean. No but yeah. Maybe. It depends. Depends on the bank, and on what you want to accomplish. I mean, technically - you don't need to know programing to steal from a bank, you could just steal someone's bank card, couldn't you?"

"But you'd need to know their pin."

"Yeah, but say you watch them enter their pin."

"Good point, I guess." mom conceded. "So, how did you two love birds actually meet?"

Sveta seemed to turn slightly more red at the question.

"Our classes work together a lot." I said. "Part of being a digital artist it being able to convert metrics, you know - numbers and statistics - into easy to read, visual representations. We had a course together called 'visual code' and she was my work partner."

"And I guess that's when things got really heated between the two of you?" mom asked, raising one eye-brow as though she found that hard to believe.

"What? You met dad in high-school. How is that any more appropriate?" I asked, indignant.

"We were at his place and playing tag. Our rules were that since he was faster, he couldn't use his hands to tag me, so he had to use his penis."

"Whaaat." I exclaimed, as Sveta laughed nervously. "Nooo. No. That's not true."

"It's completely true. I was wearing a strap-on we had found in his parents' room." mom said, reminiscing. "To make it more even. Although I had some length advantage with it."

"No way. So he was running around the house, tagging things with his ... thing?"

"With his dongle, yes." mom confirmed. "He was still pretty quick with it."

"I have no words."

Sveta had just given up at this point and was laughing into her cup of pepsi. Yes. We're a pepsi family. I like the blue colour.

"That's not how we met." Sveta said finally, indicating me and her.

"How long have you known that you were homosexual?" mom asked, letting the question stay open for either of us to answer.

"Always." Sveta replied. "Even when I was younger, I thought that the Barbie dolls I was playing with were ..."

"Like super hot." I finished the sentence for her. "They have some really perky tits. No sag what so ever."

Sveta just blushed.

"And you?" mom looked at me.

"We were over this earlier." I reminded her. "Probably when I met Sveta, I think." I said, neglecting to mention that time her butt looked into my soul. "But thinking back, there were just small things that now seem like pretty obvious clues. I think the problem is that I've never really been 'into' anyone before."

"You've never had a boyfriend?" Sveta asked curiously.

"No. I mean, all the friends I've had in elementary and high school were more or less ... what is a nicer word for idiots? We all were. None of us really focused on anything other than just making noise, now that I think back to my time at school. Thinking back, I feel like I'm an entirely different person now."

"You're still my baby girl." mom reassured me. "But yeah, you did calm down a lot in the last three years."

"How about you?" I asked Sveta.

"No. I've always been too shy to talk about who I liked. And never really had the opportunity to be with the girls I was interested in. I was actually hoping that it would be different at university, and it really is. Everyone is so much more ... serious. I thought I would like it more like this, where everyone are just focused on their work. But I feel now that people are actually trying to work themselves to death."

"Seriously?" I asked, considering the idea. "In my class, they have basically daily 'beer fridays'. It started as a friday thing, but their concept of 'friday' isn't very clear. Friday is more a state of mind than a specific day."

"Well. You guys are artists after all." Sveta laughed.

"So do your class mates know about you two?" mom asked.

"No. I don't think so. But I don't think they care either." I said.

"We've ... sort of been very discreet until now." Sveta confirmed. "I'm happy that you are so nice about it." she added to my mom.

"Well, I can't say that I've never wanted to try the sweet taste of peaches." mom said, leaning back and taking a sip from her glass. "To wander amongst the cherry blossoms. To tip toe through the tulips. To motorboat the seas. It would be hypocritical of me to be against it."

"So you are ..." Sveta started the sentence, but then caught herself and couldn't think of a good way to end it.

This reminded me of something. Earlier today when I was talking to mom, she said that her first - first - memory of being interested in a woman was when she was fourteen with her mom, my grandma.

"Oh yeah." I said, raising a finger for attention. "You told me about the first time. But if that was the first, does it mean that there were other times?"

"What was the first time?" asked Sveta, curiously.

"Oh, I was young and I just mistook Hilary Clinton for Bill Murray. Had a lovely afternoon with that." mom waved Sveta's question away. "The second time? The second time was when I was already married to your dad actually."

"Bill Murray?" asked Sveta, still hanging onto her question.

"With my dad?" I asked.

"Ok. You two nosy shits get into the living room and I'll bring a bottle of wine, got it?" mom asked, pointing at us, probably measuring our reaction.

"We get to drink?" I asked, incredulous. "Won't that lead to a crippling cocaine addiction later on in life?"

"Yes, but if you're smart, you can make some good money selling drugs, or so I hear." mom replied. "You alright with that, Svetlana, or do you want some coffee, tea or something instead?"

"No, I'm fine ... if it's ok with you." she replied, her eyes really big from either surprise or excitement. "I don't mind. But I'd rather you didn't tell my parents about any of this. They can be a bit difficult."

"So I noticed." mom said. "What stays in Vegas, comes to Vegas."

"You mean 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'."

"Don't try and be clever with me." mom snapped back, but clearly jokingly.

As we made ourselves comfortable in the living room mom brought us all glasses of wine. We actually had a set of really fancy-looking wine glasses from the thirties. They were octagonal, with each side having a fancy, lace-like pattern molded in the glass. I wasn't sure as to how it was made exactly, but it looked really exquisite.

"So the second time." mom said, taking a small sip of wine. "Actually not very exciting. But better than the first one. I was in my third year of university and we were all sent out as interns at different hospitals. So I was an intern at the national hospital, here in Copenhagen. Doing some MRI scans. Helping out over at ER. And another one of the girls that was there with me from my class - well, she eventually dropped out because she realized that even though she liked medicine and science, she hated the actual patients." mom laughed at that. "I guess it's good that she was at least honest about it, but still.

So one day went to her place to get a couple of drinks and just chat. We were supposed to be a bigger group, but there was some problem with the shifts and the people that we were supposed to meet ended up having to take different shifts. Happens all the fucking time. The administration is run by a random numbers generator, so it's a bit messy.

So we get to her place from work. Instead of going out, we figure - hey. Why not spend some time just here, sitting and watching TV and talking crap about other people?

So she goes to change into some comfy clothes. And she's not shy at all around me, her tits are all over the place. Swinging around, going over to change this, do that, pick that up. I'm standing there watching as she almost intentionally stretches to roll down her stockings, and reach something from a top shelf."

Suddenly mom laughed.

"What?" I asked, curious.

"You two should see your faces. It's like dogs, pressed up against the window of a cat factory."

Sveta turned her face away, going really red.

"Don't be embarrassed, Sveta." I say. "Listen, mom does this. She really, really wants to be cool with the kids. You can't let her see that she gets to you, you'll only encourage her."

"But you were basically salivating." mom said, intentionally emphasizing the word 'salivating'.

"Yeah, I was salivating because I was listening to a juicy story. There were tits everywhere, you said." I answered, laughing. "Go on, what did the tits do?"

"Like I said, it's not a very exciting story. But you were wondering whether I've ever been with another woman more intimately, and the answer is no. We didn't break down, spending the night kissing each other." mom shook her head.

"Is that what you think we do?" I laughed at the idea. Just clamped onto each other like vacuums.

"I'm not a five year old." mom scoffed. "I understand the basic concept of eating someone out." After a short pause she added: "Oh don't look shocked. Do you seriously think that I don't know the basics of lesbian sex? Come on. I know the basics of gay guy sex too, but there's not chance of me being a gay man."

"Well, given what we learned today it wouldn't be too shocking." I countered.

I was feeling oddly comfortable talking about sex and sexuality in this company. And I could tell by the relaxed posture of Sveta that she was comfortable too.

"So Sveta. What was your first time?" mom asked.

"You don't have to answer." I said quickly.

But after a moment of thought, she smiled and nodded. "No, it's fine. First time that I thought of a woman in a sexual way, or first time I was with a woman?"

"Oh, so you've had other women before!" I exclaimed, partly in mock-outrage and partly in genuine surprise. "So when did you lose your virginity?"

"Well. I've never had penetrative sex." Sveta replied, looking at us wonderingly. "I'm not sure on how the 'virginity' switch works, but I was under the impression that you needed to be penetrated, right? Something about the hymen?"

"But no, because wouldn't your fingers suffice then? Like, what's the difference?" I objected. I wasn't entirely sure on how this whole hymen thing worked.

"A hymen isn't a wall somewhere inside of your vagina." mom sighed. "It's like a sinew or membrane on the sides of your vagina's entry. Like the supports of a doorway. The 'breaking' of the hymen is just stretching your vagina wide enough for it to tear. If that sounds like a not very reliable way of telling virginity then you're right. It's not."

"Wait. I thought it was on the inside." I said, unconsciously massaging my crotch. "Like ... at the depth of a penis length." saying that out loud made it sound really stupid, I realized.

"No such thing." mom shook her head. "I don't actually why the world thinks that there is some kind of a 'shower cap' inside of us. So actually, yes. It's possible that if you only use fingers that you won't tear your hymen. But it's also possible for it to heal up again when torn. Like I said, it has nothing to do with virginity."

"Well. Then when do you stop being a virgin?" Sveta asked.

"I've no idea." mom replied. "It used to be pretty simple. If you've had a penis inside of your vagina then you were no longer a virgin. Technically, maybe you two will remain virgins forever, who knows?"

While I pondered this idea, Sveta went on with her story.

"So the first time I thought of a woman in a sexual way was actually my Danish teacher in elementary school. I thought that she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Though at the time, I was maybe ten or so.

I remember fantasizing about her ... ravaging me-..." Sveta began to blush "-... just taking me and making love to me. I remember not even knowing what she would do to me. Just that we would kiss and it would feel good." she laughed at herself. "I've upgraded my imagination since."

"I can imagine. How young were you when you were with a woman for the first time?" I asked her.

"I'll tell you. But this has to stay in this room and never leave it, ok?" she said, making sure that both me and mom nodded before going on. She took a big gulp of wine. "Last year our whole family went on vacation to Mallorca. It's this really popular tourist island in Spain.