Two Members and
Ten Sightless Eyes
by Mel Bosworth
Justine combed
her mustard hair while Darren clipped his
fingernails. Justine wore nothing while Darren
wore only socks.
"When
will your parents be here?" he asked.
"Ten
minutes."
"How do
we tell them?"
"It will
be easy."
Darren pulled
nervously on his hairless scrotum. Justine
scratched her buttocks with pink painted
fingernails, leaving three raised red lines on
each cheek.
When her
parents arrived, the four of them ate breakfast.
Mother's tits foundered and her nipples hovered,
vigilant, over hash browns dressed in ketchup.
Darren asked father to pass the syrup.
"How's
work going, Darren?" asked father, absently
thumbing his member.
"Fine,"
said Darren. "We've had a busy summer."
Justine
giggled and crossed her legs, dark pubis crawling
up her stomach like an unchecked child. Darren
took hold of her wrist as she moved a fork-full
of waffle to her lips, causing her to root
unsuccessfully.
"What is
it, D?" she asked.
"I wanted
to tell you I love you," he whispered.
"I love
you too, D. But I can eat my waffles and
love you at the same time, can't I?"
Darren cranked
up a smile and cursed his penis for betraying him. It
jutted out like a log and danced in the overflow
of tablecloth. Mother's gaze locked onto daughter
while father's flirted with the knick-knacks on
the stovetop.
"I'm
still trying to adjust to nudism," Darren
confessed, crimson faced. "It's almost too
free for me."
"Even
free things have a cost," said father.
"It takes a bit of sacrifice. And time, of
course."
Justine tried
to bring the waffle to her lips again but Darren
held tight. Mother broke in:
"What is
it, Darren? You're behaving oddly. And you
too, Justine. What are you kids up to?"
"We're
going to get married!" popped Justine.
She moved her
head to the waffle and ate. Mother and father
began a slow sway of excitement, mother's tit-eyes
burying and resurrecting themselves in hash brown.
"That's
lovely, my girl! And my boy!"
said mother.
Father's mouth
crafted a flawless O, his flabby arms pumping as
if running in place.
"My
daughter! My son!" he said.
"But that's
not all," said Darren.
Still clinging
to Justine's wrist, he stood, bringing her with
him. Mother and father followed the arrow of his
forgotten mushroom Judas as it lined perfectly
with the soft navel of their daughter.
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