Autumn Pt. 01 Ch. 05

Anger rose inside of Frank. He wanted that to not matter, to be capable of playing a part for his mother without feeling resentful, because she was totally worth it, but couldn't get over how nice it was to not have to worry about any of that with Liz.

And why did her sister have to look so much like her? Everything Frank liked his mother's face, he found in his aunt's. She had that same porcelain skin, eyes as big and dark as onyxes, and hair that was darker still. Granted, Liz wore hers a bit longer, her cheeks weren't as soft and round, and her nose was a bit aquiline, but one hardly noticed such things in the dark. Her lips were also a brighter shade of red, but they were every bit as full and there was nothing wrong with that shade. He even liked the tasteful little strips of white above her eyelids. The dark rings his mother favored had their appeal, to be sure, but there was nothing wrong with his aunt's aesthetic when it came to not-makeup. It suited her perfectly.

"That time, I didn't," Liz replied with an amber twinkle in her eye.

That got a chuckle out of Frank. And earned her bottom a soft smack.

"I'm a good girl," Liz said in a voice so sweet and innocent that no one could possibly take it seriously. That made her sound so much like her daughter, who'd perfected the not-innocent-at-all-but-I-like-to-pretend-routine, that a shiver ran down Frank's spine.

It also made him wonder whether the differences between the women of his family were as pronounced as he thought. Perhaps he should kick his aunt out and go to his mother?

No. He owed it to himself as much he did Liz, and Brie for that matter, to find out what his aunt had to offer. No one could frustrate him or make him inadequate the way his mother could, yet neither could any woman excite him the way she did. If the best argument in Liz's favor was that the lows wouldn't be too low, he had to know how high the highs would be before he could make anything close to a proper comparison.

Wait, since when was it even possible for anyone to compare to his mother? And who said he had to choose one or the other? Their kind was not big on monogamy. Frank could alternate between the two, making occasional room for Brie, Nat, and Noreen, without hurting anyone's feelings. In fact, it might raise questions if he didn't.

All valid points—when it came to sex. Of course Frank would maintain a physical relationship with both women, and the others as well. The question was who would claim his heart. He'd pledged it to his mother, if not within her hearing since she herself had forbidden such talk, and vowed to win hers. Now, though, he was beginning to see why his cousin thought that he ought to redirect his focus. He might still decide not to, but he had to at least give Liz a fair chance at selling him on the idea. That would entail more than one night of lovemaking, including a lot more Shakespeare, but they had to start somewhere.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Liz asked nervously, hiding her face in a pillow.

"No reason," Frank said, kissing her hair again. "I was just admiring how beautiful you are." He gave his aunt another kiss, this one on her cheek. Then her neck, her shoulder, and back to her neck. They were feather-light and fleeting, but he imbued his lips with just enough energy to leave her skin tingling with a gentle euphoria.

She pulled the quilt up sharply, nearly punching him in the jaw.

"Am I moving too fast?" he said, pulling back.

"No," his aunt replied, lowering the quilt again. "I was just cold."

"What was that about needing to turn the burner off then?"

Their eyes met and the bedroom fell away; Orwin Manor followed, then the rest of Autumn. They were suspended in nothingness, the only two beings in all of existence. Yet each of his aunt's dark eyes contained a multitude of universes. At first, the look he found in them was nervous. Amber light began to radiate out from them, however, and he could feel her Libido pulsing as the energy within expanded and contracted.

"I heard you like lingerie," Liz said at last, giving the top of her camisette a little tug.

"Are there men who don't?" Frank replied.

Her hands traversed the terrain of his torso and Frank felt her Libido tremble frantically. Until he punctured the thing for the first time, he'd be unable to sense the energy contained within, let alone glean anything about her emotional state from the motion thereof. The vessel itself, however, he could feel. There was no mistaking the stress it was under.

He had no doubt that physicality was less important to his aunt than other women, but she seemed to appreciate what Frank had to offer on that dimension. That didn't really surprise him, and yet it somehow did. Frank sometimes still found it hard to believe that women could feel the same raw, animal hunger for his flesh that he did for theirs, even though it had been years since he'd first discovered that he had another body, one that not only reflected his sense of how a man "should" look to an astonishing degree but was actually his true form. He supposed it didn't help that he lived with Nat, who found her other brothers more attractive even just in terms of looks. It was starting to seem like she was the only one who found him lacking on that front, though, and that mattered more to Frank than it should have. He didn't need his aunt to salivate over his hard pectorals and bulging biceps the way he did her full breasts and round ass, but he was pretty okay with her doing so.

"Bobby likes it when I walk around in a sports bra and yoga pants," Liz said, fretting at her lower lip. Now that he thought about it, Frank realized that his mother was pretty much the only one who wasn't constantly doing that. His favorite woman in all the worlds was hardly immune to nervousness, but she expressed it in different ways—usually by throwing herself at whatever guy that was making her feel that way. That was fine by Frank, but his aunt was reminding him that less aggressive manifestations were not without their charm. "He's also fond of this one pair of shorts that barely covers my butt."

"I can't imagine why," Frank said, tightening his grip on her highest-value asset. He hadn't thought he'd ever bed a woman with as much junk in her trunk as his mother had, but his aunt's backside was every bit as big and round. It wasn't as soft, but neither was it as steely as his cousin's or his grandmother's; there was a plush quality to her posterior and it wasn't hard to imagine her cheeks rippling pleasantly as Frank gave it to her from behind. That wouldn't hypnotize him the way his mother alway did, because only his mother could have that effect on him, but he certainly wasn't disappointed with the fleshy globe.

Liz flexed her glutes, relaxed them, then tightened up again. A groan passed through Frank's lips. One second, he was holding pizza dough; the next, a bowling ball.

Giggling, his aunt said, "He likes that too."

"Seems we have a lot in common," Frank replied.

Suddenly Liz frowned. "I'm talking about him too much."

"That's okay. I want to know what works for you and what doesn't. You don't have to talk about him, or Grandpa Dick, to reveal that, but I learn something whenever you do."

"I'd say you've got a pretty good sense of that already."

That comment earned her a kiss. A brief one, though. He just needed a little sugar.

Her lips were the sweetest he'd ever tasted. Some would call her kiss saccharine; if Dom ever stole a first, he wouldn't go back for a second. Frank figured that anything else would have been unLizly, though. It was a little much at first, but the longer they locked lips, the more reluctant he was to pull away from her. Again and again, he told himself that he only needed a little more, until what was meant to last a few moments ate up several minutes.

"What you say if I told you that I pretend to be more of a fitness freak than I am whenever he's around?" Liz asked after their lips parted. The look on her face was so anxious that Frank almost kissed her again, but he decided to let her finish. "I don't mean to be deceptive," she rushed to add, "and I really do enjoy working out, but I do a whole lot more of that when he comes to visit. Is that terrible?"

"Not at all," Frank assured her.

"Are you sure?"

At that point, he did press his lips to hers, but he didn't linger. "We all mold ourselves to our lovers' tastes. There's nothing wrong with that. In fact, I'm tempted to say that one of the biggest reasons relationships fail is that people sometimes stop doing that."

Liz seemed to consider that. "You're too young to know anything about that." She scratched at his beard, which apparently helped her think the same way it did Frank. It was only because his mother had a thing for beards that he'd grown one in the first place, as they'd become so damn popular that having one made him feel like a trend-chaser, but it was hard not to play with. "That said, I think you might be right."

"I think so too."

She gave him a wan smile. "How much did you hate those dancing lessons? Be honest."

Her words said one thing, the rest of her something else. From the quiver in her voice to how her breath caught in her throat, his aunt made it clear that there was only one right answer. She didn't want to feel guilty about pressuring him into anything, anymore than she'd want to know how excited he wasn't to spend several weeks learning about Billy the Shakes, but Frank would still have been a fool to say that the Samba wasn't for him.

It was a good thing, then, that he'd actually enjoyed it. Well, sort of. "I maybe didn't love learning how to dance, but I can definitely say that I look forward to knowing how to."

His mom might have asked whether anyone really enjoyed learning anything, but Liz didn't. That was another point in her favor. It was a good thing Frank wasn't keeping count, because he wasn't sure that he'd like the outcome if he tallied them up.

"I can work with that," his aunt replied.

"I liked the way you move," he said as he squeezed one of her mounds over and over again. His aunt made her beautiful booty bounce in his hand, twitching her muscles repeatedly. Damn, she had a great ass. There was no doubt about who had the nicest pair of breasts in the family, even if his aunt compared favorably to everyone other than her older sister, but he was having a hard time convincing himself that Liz's backside was the least bit inferior to his mother's. Or to anyone's. He wanted to sink his teeth into one of those snow white globes. Or press his face against her cheeks and toss her salad. Or just have her ride him cowgirl so he could squeeze it with both hands while making her cum as loudly as someone that well-behaved was capable of. "And how much it seemed to turn you on whenever I went a full thirty seconds without making a mistake," Frank added.

That made her laugh. "You did quite well, I thought."

"Were your students flattered by such transparently insincere compliments?"

"I don't know. Besides, they were fourteen years old."

Frank started intently into his aunt's eyes. "I bet they all had a crush on you."

She snorted. "I didn't look like this over there."

"That wouldn't have made a difference to me," Frank told her, and he was pretty sure he meant it. In her mortal disguise, Liz was certainly less attractive, but she'd looked good for her age. Her ass had been even bigger, and he'd long had trouble not staring at her tits. Sure, she'd been a little thicker in the midsection, and nothing had defied gravity the way it did in her current form, but that hadn't kept him from thinking inappropriate thoughts. There was something about teachers, too. Frank had lusted after a couple over the years, at least one of which was decidedly less attractive than even the mortal version of his aunt.

"I almost believe you," she said.

"You are a beautiful woman, Liz, and you've got one heck of an amazing body. But this," he said, giving her ass a tight squeeze for emphasis, "is only a small part of why I'm glad you're lying next to me." He eye-fucked good hard for a few moments before adding, "Who you are inside is just as important, and was no different back in the simulation."

After regarding him silently for a few moments, Liz rolled onto her back and did her best to pull him on top of her. He weighed too much for her to do that, especially with one hand on his shoulder, but he took the hint and got to his knees then crouched over her.

With the kiss that followed, Frank evinced greater patience, lingual dexterity, and awareness of his partner's preferences than even he'd thought himself capable of. Every time Liz's Libido turned glassy and threatened to crack, Frank found that he'd already downshifted. Her boil never reached a simmer, though, without him turning the dial back to the right just in time. He wasn't sure how he managed that, since it didn't seem like he was doing anything he hadn't done before, but his timing was so impeccable that even Brianna would have envied it. That probably had more to do with how compatible they were than how talented he was, but Frank was still impressed with himself. As his aunt moved closer and closer to a climax he wouldn't allow her to have, he felt more and more like he was about to beat one of those arcade shooting games that was meant to be nearly impossible, and would do it without losing a single bar of health or wasting a single bullet.

"Wow," Liz panted, chest heaving, after he let up. "That was crackerjack."

"Who talks like that?"

Her palm connected with his bicep gently, barely even making a noise. "I do." She caressed his arm, as though concerned that her playful smack might actually have hurt, while staring up at him with glowing amber eyes. "Was that really just a kiss?"

By way of response, Frank pressed his lips to hers again. This time, he allowed her to finish. Twice. The first orgasm was fairly modest, allowing Frank to keep going without so much as breaking the seal formed by their lips, but the second was pretty epic.

Realizing that he'd induced an out-of-body experience, Frank smiled to himself. For nearly a minute, he waited for signs of intelligence to return to those dark eyes of hers.

"Ready for more?" Frank asked once she recovered.

One hand went to his cheek and brushed his downy beard. Though Liz didn't actually make contact with his skin, there was something incredibly intimate about that touch.

Before starting in on his full-body seduction routine, Frank allowed himself a moment to admire the wonders of his aunt's body. No, she wasn't as amply endowed as his mother, let alone hers. He'd noted that many times already. What had escaped his attention, however, was how perfect Liz's breasts were for her physique. If they'd been any smaller, they'd disappoint him; any bigger, though, and they'd look out of place. Noreen's gave him a constant sense of whiplash, fun as they were to play with. Waves of disbelief did not assail him one after another when he looked at his aunt, though. Hers were nice and big, much more than a handful, yet didn't hang past her ribcage. Granted, she was lying on her back, so gravity wasn't really working against her, and that camisette provided some support even without a built-in bra, but Frank felt sure that they'd remain more or less where they were even after he got her out of it and on top of him. Sag didn't bother him the way it did other guys—he actually preferred a certain amount of it—but he couldn't help but respect his aunt's round globes. If his mother and grandmother had watermelons—one pair ripe and the other ready to burst—his aunt had a nice set of pumpkins.

Before he could tell himself that those were more seasonally appropriate anyway, Frank shut down that whole line of thinking. He and his aunt might connect better on an intellectual level, and have similar personalities, but that didn't mean that a single aspect of her appearance could compare to his mother's. From her more modest breasts to her firmer ass, her narrower hips and yet thicker waist, his aunt was an inferior model. She was attractive, yes. Amply so. But she could not rival the woman who reigned supreme over his heart and Libido. His flag would never fly as high, or as hard, for the younger of the two sisters.

"They won't bite," Liz said as the fabric covering her mounds turned to mist. The rest of the garment remained, which Frank appreciated, but her lovely breasts were now bare.

"Whew," Frank replied. "I was totally worried about that."

"Mm-hmm," his aunt said as she scratched at his beard.

Her nipples weren't as thick and long as he'd have liked, but they were a lovely shade of pink, hardly more colorful than her milky white breasts. Her areola weren't much darker. He liked that his mother's had more pigment to them, but couldn't deny the appeal of Liz's pale promontories—even if that did make it hard to believe that she'd mothered a child.

Not just any child, but his cousin—whose every orifice he'd violated before ejaculating in. Fuck, he was sooo not worthy of his aunt. She was wholesome and pure, kind-hearted and well-mannered. What if he got carried away and shot cum on her face or breasts? Would he die of shame? Would she? How could he do anything with her but kiss her tenderly?

No, he had to be careful not to put her up on a pedestal. Liz was as guilty of incest as the rest of them, and was no more monogamous. It might feel like he was courting her, or that they were in the early stages of a committed relationship, but she'd given no indication that her relationship with Bobby was over. Heck, she hadn't even said that she was done with her father. Frank had only assumed that she was because he didn't think the man was worthy of her. But while she'd expressed regret about allowing him to be her first, she'd also told Frank that he didn't know his grandfather as well as he thought he did, and forced him to admit that the guy was stupidly handsome. She'd even hinted that she liked anal sex, which had only surprised him because he'd yet to fully let go of the sort of beliefs he resented his mother for holding. He couldn't be the first to notice that her posterior was worthy of every sort of attention, and every time he started to feel guilty about letting his mother talk him into making that a regular part of their lovemaking, he reminded himself that it was possible for women to enjoy that as much as, if not more than, vaginal intercourse; that while some women submitted to it despite a very reasonable expectation that it was going to hurt, others only went there with men they were right to trust completely. His aunt had to be one of the latter. If she allowed Bobby to guide her through the most intense orgasms a woman could experience, even with some regularity, did that say anything about her except that she wasn't as inhibited as those who judged her too quickly might think?

Cumming on her face might still be a bad idea, but Frank was free to do a whole lot more kiss her gently on the lips. Holding her gaze all the while, he bent over her chest and blew a mix of warm air and supernatural energy across a pink nub.

"Oh my," Liz said, closing her eyes as her body shuddered.

"Are they sensitive?" he asked, figuring that was where Brie had gotten it from.

"Not normally," his aunt replied.

Nor did the become so for Frank, at least not until he made them so. Part of him had hoped that her reaction to that puff of air meant that it would only take a single lick to get her to arch her back and howl in ecstasy, legs spasming involuntarily, but that wasn't meant to be. Even after he started altering the basic functioning of her body, his aunt didn't respond the way Frank expected. It took actual effort to introduce Liz to nipplegasms. It didn't seem as though she'd ever experienced one, and the look she gave him afterwards was to die for, but he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed at how hard he'd had to work for it. So much for the idea that their Libidos were in perfect harmony.