Chapter 13: Morning Weed

Lucia couldn’t help but watch closely as Gabe climbed into the spa, admiring his firm little bottom and muscular build. Like the previous night, their visible breath mixed with the vapor from the hot water in whirls of steam around them in the crisp mountain air.

“I’ve become quite the voyeur these days,” she thought. “I don’t remember admiring Hector like this. I was probably too shy when I was younger and he was, well, firmer. I’m sure Gabe will have a lot more tummy when he’s in his 50s, wow, twenty years from now. Holy shit, I’ll be old then.”

Once they were all settled in their seats and the jets were set to an easy bubbling, Lucia was ready to speak.

“As your Witch Queen, I call this meeting of the Boiling Cauldron Society to order.

“We had quite a day, yesterday, and then such an evening. I know I will never forget it, as long as I live. I wonder, sometimes, how different it must have been for the generations before us, two, three, ten centuries ago. Instead of grand mansions like this, or cozy homes like yours...”

“Ours, Mama, ours.”

“Alright, ours. Damn it, daughter, don’t make me sniffle, I’m making a speech.

“Instead of big homes with separate bedrooms, people shared very small living spaces, perhaps only one or two rooms. Children all piled together like puppies for warmth, their parents practically in arm’s reach, and their parents, perhaps, in the same room too.

“For those people, the whole idea of privacy as we now understand it was impossible. I have to imagine that one night when my great-great-great-great-grandmother was a girl she must have heard or even seen her parents making love, that is, making her some siblings. And, very likely, she was married and pregnant by the age of 15 or 16. I think that kind of living was the norm for all but the very wealthy all over the world.

“Last night I was watching you two sweeties making love. I should have excused myself and left. That was the polite thing to do. But I couldn’t do that, as you know. I thought, while watching you fuck so beautifully, ‘This is the hottest thing I have ever seen. It’s miles better than porn. It’s people who I love, being loving.’

“I was so overtaken by lust, I blew right through whatever impediment was blocking my orgasms. This is such a relief to me, I can’t even start to explain. I’ve told Mia, and now I’m telling you, Gabe. I went through menopause five, no, six years ago. But it was different for me than most women, I believe.

“Menopause revved me up, I just got hornier. And I was already with a high drive. Your poor father, he was starting to look frazzled. He’d come home from work, put down his briefcase, and my hands were already in his pants.

“After a while, it was becoming a problem. He wasn’t able to keep up, if you know what I mean. But we worked it out. When I wanted him and he was not feeling so ready for me, we would just ‘69.’ He was great at eating pussy, and I’d be sucking him gently and not needing him to be hard or to come. Instead, I was just enjoying the closeness and enjoying a nice little come myself from his darting tongue.

“After a few low-intensity nights like that, he was recharged and ready for me, and I was perfectly satisfied.

“I’ve been talking for a while. It’s time we all got up on the edge, anyway. I want to hear your thoughts.”

“Mama, I’m amazed at myself. I should be all embarrassed and have my fingers in my ears going ‘La-la-la, I can’t hear you!’ I’m sure you’re right about our ancestors, but in THIS society, children are not usually wanting to think about their parents having sex. I’m amazed I never saw you, caught you, or heard you.”

“Well, three things. One, you’re different from me, I can come very softly, quietly. You, darling daughter, can be very vocal, at least sometimes. You’re not consistent, I wonder why?”

Gabe was about to interject with an explanation, but Mia gave him a warning look and he subsided.