***** Author's note: This is a continuation of The Lynches series, but there's enough context provided for this story to stand on its own. All characters are over 18. Enjoy! *****
Fridays had become Make Your Own Pizza night in the Lynch household since the pandemic first hit, and this start to the weekend was no different. Michelle and her parents stood around the center island in their kitchen, smoothing out their dough and choosing the appropriate toppings. Michelle's Spotify playlist was playing on the kitchen computer and the tight-knit family unit was enjoying each other's company, along with a large bottle of Malbec.
Her father, John, was working on his meat-lovers special. He had already spread out his pepperoni and sprinkled on a copious amount of hot Italian sausage when he reached for the bowl of bacon bits at the same time as Michelle.
"I thought you were worried about your love handles," Michelle joked, then blushed beet red, looking nervously between her mother and father. While she had been intimate with each individually, and they all knew about it, it was something they never really talked about outside of the bedroom.
Her mother gave her a stern look. Sarah Lynch was an attorney and she knew that if word got out about their family activities, it would not only spread through their small town like wildfire, it would ruin her career.
"Sorry, mom," Michelle said meekly and went back to arranging the chicken chunks on her chicken-bacon-ranch pizza.
"It's okay, honey," her mother said, then took a swig of her wine. "I just didn't want you shaming your father into using some of my veggies."
Sarah Lynch worked endlessly on maintaining her figure. She was 60 years old and still turned heads when she went out. An inch shorter than Michelle, she would often be mistaken for her daughter, even though her breasts were noticeably larger. For Sarah, her specialty was always organic veggies on gluten-free dough with low-fat cheese.
"After you, Mitchie," said her father while handing her the bowl of bacon bits, "just leave me enough for a full heart attack."
Michelle and her mother both laughed at John while watching him smother his pizza in mounds of mozzarella cheese. Friday's were his cheat night. Otherwise, John watched what he ate and worked out regularly. He was two years younger than his wife and also got his fair share of looks at the lake during the summer.
They each slid their pizzas into the preheated oven and took their wine to the living room to wait for them to bake. John sat in 'his chair' and Michelle and her mom sat on the couch.
Sarah cleared her throat and said, "You both remember that Aunt Naomi is coming to visit next weekend, right?"
Naomi was Sarah's best friend from college, who now lived on the West Coast. Sarah and Naomi would get together two or three times every year, either visiting each other's homes or meeting somewhere halfway. It had been over a year since the two had seen each other, mainly due to the pandemic.
She became known as Aunt Naomi when Michelle was a kid and Naomi still lived back East. She gave the best gifts and Michelle loved her as much as her real aunts and uncles. Aunt Naomi was a petite woman too, with a headful of auburn ringlets that spiraled down to the swell of her ass. The only thing larger than the D-cup breasts she carried on her small frame was her infectious laugh. Michelle was looking forward to seeing Aunt Naomi as much as her mother was. Or so she thought.
"I trust you two will behave while she's here," Sarah added as the arbiter of keeping the family secret well hidden.
"Oh, we're behaving this trip, are we," John muttered sarcastically under his breath, using a rhetorical 'we.' Sarah shot him another stern look indicating that he did not want to go there.
"Since I'm the only one not yet vaccinated," Michelle responded, unaware of the non-verbal communication between her parents, "I'll be socially distancing my ass off." After a short pause, she added, "After I give Aunt Naomi a big-ass hug, of course."
The timer on the oven called them all back into the kitchen where they sliced up their pizzas and set them out on the table. More wine was poured and they had a normal Friday night dinner, talking about their weekend plans, and enjoying their delicious creations.
Since they all cooked, they all helped clean up. Michelle and her father were busy rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher while her mother wrapped up the leftovers and put them away.
"Mitchie, honey," Sarah said nonchalantly, using the pet name John gave her as a child, "why don't you join us in the big bed tonight."
John and Michelle both snapped their heads around to look at Sarah, who had her back turned as she rearranged the items in the fridge. They then looked at each other, and John shrugged his shoulders, indicating this was news to him as well.
"Unless you'd rather not," her mother added in the same even tone as if she was asking what they'd like for dessert.
"Ummm, no mom...I mean yes...I mean I'd love to," Michelle responded nervously. She could feel her nipples hardening at the thought, and looked down and saw the invitation was having the same effect on her father's cock.
"OK then, your father and I are heading upstairs now," Sarah continued, "come and join us when you're ready."
Michelle watched her parents leave the kitchen and she was too dumbfounded to speak. Did I just hear what I think I heard, she thought to herself, still standing at the sink. Did my mother just nonchalantly invite me to have a threesome with my father? While she had played with both her mom and her dad separately, they never had played together before. And given the earlier "behave" speech, the invitation seemed very incongruent.
