Autumn Pt. 01 Ch. 06

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jdnunyer
jdnunyer
605 Followers

Noreen smiled. "Those are two different things. Lizzie's happiness means just as much to him as your mother's does, but doesn't depend on spending time with him to nearly the same degree." She turned to her husband. "Isn't that right, Dickie?"

The only response Richard gave was a deliberate nod.

Only an idiot—or an idealist, if there was any difference—would believe that his aunt's happiness meant as much to his grandfather as his mother's did. Frank supposed he was willing to believe that the ratio of truth to bullshit was fairly high, though, even if it was clear that the latter was present. He probably ought to assume that there always would be where his grandmother was concerned. Autumn's politics might not be identical to those of the world he'd grown up, but its politicians seemed about as honest.

"Besides, I'm not going to be around much for a while either," Noreen said.

"Why not?" Frank asked, and not because he was feigning interest in the conversation. Not anymore. Those lovely red lips, which were coated in glossier not-lipstick than his matte-loving mother preferred, still very much needed to be wrapped around his fat cock, and it would be an absolute travesty if her humongous tits didn't make an appearance, but such things could wait until after she answered his question.

Or not.

Within a few seconds of her engulfing his glans, Frank's every muscle contracted. Shortly after that, he stopped breathing. His eyes watered and his head began to tingle as oxygen deprivation set in. Yet he couldn't convince his mouth to open or his lungs to fill with air. All he could do was enjoy, or perhaps endure, the singularly intense sensation of his grandmother waging war on him with her mouth.

"You'll have to forgive her," Richard said. "She needs a lot of energy."

That made sense. Or didn't it? It was all Frank could do to keep from crying. Or cumming. Or both. He'd decided the day before that his grandmother wasn't as talented as his cousin when it came to sucking dick, and he supposed he was willing to stand by that judgment since she wouldn't have had him in such distress if she hadn't thrown so much fucking magic at him, but that mean she wasn't getting the job done.

In no time at all, he was pouring cum down her throat.

Lots and lots of it.

After licking him clean, Noreen went and dropped to her haunches in front of her husband. As his Libido repaired the hole she'd punched in it, Frank watched her go to work on his grandfather. He feigned disinterest, sipping his coffee and peering over the top of the counter without tilting his head too far. As his grandmother slobbed the biggest knob he'd ever seen, and did so with both ease and enthusiasm, Frank's own dick got even harder and he had no choice but to reach beneath the counter and stroke it. Richard was no thicker than he was, Frank didn't think, but he was a good deal longer. Yet Noreen swallowed the whole thing a few times, likely just to prove to their grandson that she could, stopping only when her lower lip pressed against his sac and her nose into his reddish pubes.

When his grandfather filled his grandmother's mouth several times over, then pulled out after she failed gulp the next bit down fast enough and shot a dozen sticky ropes onto her face, Frank nearly ejaculated himself. There was something so deliciously wrong about that.

Fortunately for him, though, his grandmother decided that she still hadn't had enough.

With a curl of her finger that reminded him of his mother, Noreen beckoned him off his stool. Without hesitation, Frank answered the summons.

Did it make him slightly uncomfortable when she took a cock in either hand and pulled them both closer to her? Sure, but only a little. Both he and his grandfather let out an awkward laugh but his grandmother didn't try to fit both in her mouth at once or make them sword fight. Rather, she alternated between them, walking one up to the edge of the cliff then turning to the other while the first tried to recompose himself. That still left Frank with far too many opportunities to exchange awkward looks with Richard, who still sort of felt like a stranger, but Noreen's generous use of pure ecstasy made it hard to care.

After the two of them gave her plenty more cum and energy to swallow, then went on to put the most extreme bukkakes to shame, Noreen announced that she had to be on her way.

"Seriously?" Frank said, stroking a cock that was still swollen and hard.

"I think he was hoping for a DP," Richard chuckled. He, for one, had already tucked himself away. "You are your mother's son," he told Frank before checking on the muffins.

Licking her lips one last time, as though she hadn't already removed or gulped down all their spend, his grandmother said, "Believe it or not, some women have no interest in that."

"I never would have guessed," Frank replied.

With a smile on her lips, his grandmother drew herself up to her full height, tapped Frank's shaft just hard enough to make it vibrate like a doorstop, and said, "We may not see each other again for a while, but the wonderful about being immortal is that even a couple years hardly matters in the grand scheme of things."

"A couple of years?" Frank asked.

It didn't really surprise him that the only answer he got was a goodbye kiss.

"You doing alright over there?" Richard asked, eyes flicking back and forth between a grandson that was swaying on his feet and a tray of overcooked treats.

"Fine," Frank said, stabilizing himself with a hand on the island counter top.

A snap of Richard's fingers solved the other problem. A burnt smell still lingered in the air, but the muffins looked soft and moist. "She took an awful lot out of you."

"I guess."

"Lizzie filled you up good last night, huh?"

There was a hint of accusation there. Ostensibly, his grandfather was impressed that he was still standing and thus wondered as to the explanation. Left unsaid, however, was yet another threat to show him what an experienced immortal could do with his bare fists should he ever learn that Frank was placing undue demands on his daughter's Libido.

"I hardly took anything from her," Frank said. "Less than I gave, at any rate."

For a while, steely gray eyes used him as a whetstone, sharpening their glare ever further. Then Richard nodded. "You're a lot stronger than I was at your age."

"Thanks," Frank replied, though he wasn't entirely sure that it was a compliment.

"I hope Bobby doesn't have to go anywhere, but it's good that Lizzie'll have you if he does," his grandfather said with something that closely approximated a warm smile.

#

Over the next several days, Frank tried to convince himself that he hadn't been cajoled, let alone coerced, into spending all his time with his aunt and not with his mother. That wasn't too hard a task, at first, but grew more and more difficult as time went on.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy spending time with Liz, though. Quite the contrary.

He was still of the mind that Shakespeare was held in such high regard in no small part his works were so old and thus hard for most people to understand. There was a certain amount of signaling going on, whereby those who valued studying texts closely and pondering their true meaning used the ability to make sense of Middle English as a means of identifying one another and screening out everyone else. The actual content of the plays, which was pretty low-brow even if it did have modest insights about politics and human nature, putting it roughly on par with a whole slew of writers that would never make it onto a university syllabus, was almost irrelevant. Frustrating as it was, though, for the literary world to hold Shakespeare up as literary genius while losing their minds whenever Stephen King won an award, his aunt did not have the typical English major's disdain for popular fiction, nor did she use "genre" as a pejorative as though literary fiction didn't have a distinct set of tropes, themes, and sense of style—which was all the damn word meant in the first place. She'd even agreed with Frank when he'd said that English professors would probably view The Stand as an important part of the Western canon once enough time had passed for his colloquialisms to no longer make sense to the average teenager. He'd also convinced her to start getting caught up on a series on the great thinkers, which included lectures on Smith, Mill, Hayek, and other favorites of his. That wouldn't involve any supply and demand curves, let alone Nash equilibria, but if exploring their ideas from a humanities perspective got her more interested in economics, that was still something he could work with.

Once Frank started using his body magic during their dance lessons, those went from awkward but promising to incredibly exciting. According to Liz, nothing made for better foreplay than an afternoon of learning and evening of dancing. Frank could think of a few things that were even better but definitely saw the appeal.

And he certainly enjoyed the heck out of it when a cha-cha routine made her cum.

Yet, while Frank found himself looking forward to the next lecture, the next dance lesson, and even the quiet time they spent apart in the mornings doing the recommended reading, he increasingly felt like the biggest advantage Liz had over her sister wasn't much of one. Their interests outside the bedroom were in closer alignment, but that wasn't the reason Frank had nearly convinced himself that everyone was right to tell him he should give up on his mother. The biggest selling point for his aunt, or so Frank had believed, was that she didn't try to get him to conform to narrow gender stereotypes. She did, though. They just weren't the same ones. If his mother wanted, or perhaps even needed, him to be an alpha male, his aunt needed him to be a perfect gentleman. That was easier for him to fake but still stifling. Especially since it, too, had implications for what happened in the bedroom rather than just what it took to get her there. If Frank was ever going to win his mother's heart, for good and true, he'd have to dress nicer, be more controlling, show less emotion and less interest in her emotions, unless they rewarded him for doing as he pleased, and get a bit rougher in the bedroom. If he wanted to be the perfect lover in Liz's eyes, he'd also have to dress nicer, be more refined, show less emotion yet remain interested in hers, and accept that she saw her role, when it came to bedroom play, as an object to be acted upon.

It turned out she really wasn't into giving head. After a few days without a blowjob, save for the one he'd gotten from his grandmother before her departure, Frank finally did the adult thing and brought it up with her. When Liz had said that she didn't like giving them, though, without pretext or qualifier, and asked if that was really important to Frank in a tone that implied she "knew" it wasn't and that was part of why she was so crazy about him, he'd decided to slide back into quiet resentment. Yes, he should have told her truth even though that would have led to their first argument. There was at least some chance of convincing her that it didn't make him any less of a gentleman to want his dick sucked once in a while. How big that chance was, however, Frank wasn't prepared to say. He wasn't even a hundred percent sure that it was true. Either way, he didn't feel like rolling the dice.

Besides, she was right that the lack of fellatio wasn't that big a deal to him. It mattered more than she thought it did, but what really had Frank questioning his decision to do as his grandparents had instructed was the general sense that he'd only gone from needing to perform one role to another. Granted, all the world was a stage, and it was easier to play Liz's favorite part than his mother's, but still. If he couldn't be himself, at least not without negatively impacting his relationship with his primary, then shouldn't he at least pursue the woman who invoked greater desire within him? Who'd literally given life to him?

His sister certainly thought so.

She was probably the only one who wasn't on Team Liz, but she made her point forcefully. And that was true in a most literal sense, as she'd smacked Frank's bare chest hard enough to turn it red after he explained why he'd been staying away from their mother.

"Don't be an idiot, Frank," she said, signaling that she wasn't just making small talk during a brief intermission by restoring her bra and panties. The leggings she'd worn over her fishnet bodystocking earlier did not return, nor did the chunky-heeled pumps he'd have been only too happy to remove again, but that still told him that she wouldn't be mounting up again any time soon. As if to drive the point home further, though perhaps she was cold, Nat drew the quilt up to her shoulders. "It only seems like Mom's not as interested in you as you are in her because you let yourself believe that and get discouraged by it."

Had Frank said that? He supposed he had, though it had hardly been his main point. Besides, what was he supposed to make of the fact that when Richard asked Liz if he could entertain her for the evening, freeing up both Frank and his mother, the latter informed him that she'd been looking forward to a night out with Dom? A man who'd threatened to do great physical harm to him if he didn't give up on his mother had seemingly gone out of his way to give Frank an opportunity to spend some time with her, as some sort of reward for being on his best behavior up until that point, and yet there Frank was in bed with his sister because the woman he wanted more than anything in the world preferred the company of another man. One who just so happened to be his jerk of an older brother.

"Women need to feel wanted," Nat explained. "That's the absolute number one thing."

"What happened to V-shaped torsos?" he asked, earning a scowl.

Strangely enough, though, hi sister didn't tell him that he could change back into his usual form. Nor had she stopped squeezing his delts slowly but rhythmically, the way Frank himself was fondling her bubble butt. "Looks matter too, along with a bunch of other things, but we're not like you. When a guy walks in a room, he looks around to see whether there are any hot chicks. If there are, he tries to determine whether they're approachable."

It was Frank's turn to scowl.

"Oh, please. You may be slower to act on those predatory instincts than Dom and Todd are, but you can't deny that's how men work." Actually, he could, but he didn't bother to. "Women are different. We don't even notice a guy unless he makes it impossible not to. There are just so many of you, and everywhere we go, you're throwing yourselves at us. I'm sure you could break it down in terms of supply and demand, if you wanted to remind me that you're still the same geek you've always been even if you've learned how to dance."

Perhaps she had a point. He'd use less essentialist language to describe it, attributing those behavioral patterns to differences in socialization, but it was still true that in both Autumn and the world they'd grown up in, no semi-attractive woman ever lacked for sexual opportunities, whereas men often had to work for it even if they were physically attractive. The latter was obviously a consequence of the former. It didn't necessarily follow that the only men a woman would take interest in were the ones who aggressively pursued them, making them feel like prey, but Frank saw no reason to doubt that many women behaved that way. Indeed, that had been the source of his frustration for some time.

"Fair enough," Frank said.

"So?" his sister said, making it sound less like a question than a demand.

All she got from him, though, was a confused look.

Sighing, Nat said, "Why do you think I dragged you from the club and couldn't even wait for a wagon to bring us back? Why did I beg you to fuck me in both holes?"

"Because you love double-penetration?"

That got an amused snort from his sister, who was arguably even more fond of that than their mother. "I do indeed. But I was getting ready to approach those guys who kept trying to dance with me when you changed my mind. How exactly did you do that?"

By rebuffing Brianna's attempt to get him to dance with her. It had seemed like every guy in the place, including Todd, was fixated on their cousin. Though Nat wasn't the type to hold that against Brie, it had clearly frustrated her to no end. It was for precisely that reason that Frank had decided his sister was going to get all of his attention. Well, that and because her tits looked almost as good in a pushup bra and fishnet bodystocking as her ass did in tight leggings, and she knew how to work her curves even better than their cousin did—which was not to say that Brie wasn't perfectly capable of convincing guys that she had more going for her than her gorgeous face once she started moving her body. Plus, it would have been wrong for Natalie to go home with a bunch of guys from another house. Yet he understood her point. It hadn't actually been impossible to look away from his sister, and Frank would have loved to have his cousin grind up on him while half the court stared on in envy, but he'd made Nat feel as though she was the only woman alive.

"I get it," he said.

"Do you, though?" his sister asked. She leaned back, though didn't quite sit up. Her beautiful brown eyes swept over his torso. "You're hot, Frank. In this form, I'd say you've got as nice a body as Todd does, though I'll deny it if you tell him I said that." Her hands moved from his shoulders to his hairless chest, down to his eight-pack abs, then back up to his delts. "And, yes, being the one guy who can double-dick me by himself, without needing a sex toy, gives you a certain advantage. That's not why tonight happened, though."

"I know. It's because I made you feel desirable."

Amber light sent the darkness into retreat, but only for a split second. "That's exactly right. And here's another point to consider—I know you don't find me more attractive than Brianna. Certainly not to the point that you barely even notice she's there."

True enough.

"You sold me on it, though," Nat continued. "Because I wanted to be sold. You've no idea how intoxicating that is for a woman; how quickly you'll win Mom over if you stop resenting her need for you to do this and just fucking do it." She leaned down and almost pressed her lips to his then pulled back at the last second. "Don't worry about Grandpa. He won't really do anything, besides glower at you over breakfast for a while. As for Aunt Liz, you're not doing her any favors by letting her think she's won you over when she clearly hasn't. Will it hurt her to find out you're still obsessed with Mom? Sure, but that's going to happen anyway. Better now than later, when she's even more invested."

"That...makes sense," Frank said.

With a snide grin, his sister said, "Of course it does. I know what I'm talking about."

"What's your interest in this?" Frank asked as he conjured a pair of spectral hands to squeeze her sweet tits without requiring him to let go of her round ass.

"None whatsoever," Nat replied. Her bra turned into a puff of smoke.

"Come on," he said, causing her panties to do the same.

"You're my brother; I want you to be happy. Until you get things to work with Mom, you're not going to be. There's a really simple fix for that, so why wouldn't I suggest it?"

The interesting thing was that Dom had done the same, only his suggestion had been different. She didn't him to choke her or pull her hair, though, at least according to Nat. Their mother just needed to know how strongly he desired her—which he really, really did.

jdnunyer
jdnunyer
605 Followers