Autumn Pt. 01 Ch. 03

Finally, the second song drew to a close. "Aunt Liz?"

"I think `Liz' will do, at this point, don't you?"

He shrugged, supposing it did make him sound like a little kid. Or perhaps the concern was that it put a certain distance between them, emphasizing their formal connection at the expense of anything more human and personal. "That was nice, Liz," Frank said. And it had been. Maybe not as a lap dance, necessarily, but still. "If you'd ever like someone to make a fool of himself by practicing a few steps, I'm your Huckleberry."

The faintest of smiles appeared. "I might take you up on that."

"Please do," Frank said. "Unless that'd make Uncle Bobby punch my lights out."

Liz snorted. "He'd probably pat you on the back and call you a good man." She lowered her voice. "Should it come to that, though, I think you could take him."

"Honestly, I doubt that," Frank said.

His aunt let one hand slide over his delts down to a thick bicep, which she gave a good squeeze. "It's a good thing that he and I don't have that sort of relationship then."

"You mean it's a good thing that he's not the sort of guy to get in a fistfight over a woman, no matter how serious he was about her?" Frank suggested.

"Sure. Let's go with that."

Naturally, his cousin choose that moment to call out, "Nice job, Mom!" If she hadn't, Frank might have kissed her mother. Granted, Brie probably would have liked that even more than Liz would have, but nothing came easy for guys like Frank.

Dom, on the other hand, was recovering from orgasm. What exactly their grandmother had done, Frank couldn't have said, particularly since she hadn't taken anything else off, but the look on his brother's face was unmistakable. As was the triumphant grin on Noreen's.

"Bountiful Harvest, Frank," Liz said, before planting a kiss on his cheek and vacating his lap. She scooped up his hat, pulled it across his crown, then returned to her seat.

For a moment, he just sat there, letting it all sink in. It was still a little hard to believe that any of it was happening; that he was immortal, as was the rest of his family, and they had no regard for the incest taboo. A strange wind had been blowing since they'd arrived at the farmhouse, and it had seemed to carry them off to a palace that he wasn't at all sure existed in the same reality. Now his grandmother said they were going to take a train that hadn't been there an hour ago to a place he'd never heard of, which she'd nonetheless referred to as "home" without anyone even batting an eye. Okay, that wasn't true; a few of them had expressed appropriate levels of confusion and skepticism. No one had indicated that they wouldn't be making the journey, however. A few objections had been raised to his sister's suggestion for how they should pass the time before their scheduled departure—raised, and then dismissed—but none to that. How much crazier could it get?

Yet it all felt right to Frank, and not because of some spell, either. He didn't think his mother had mentioned a placed called "Autumn" once in the years since she'd revealed various other family secrets, yet it only seemed fitting that the first Harvest Day they all spent together since Nat had come of age would mark a new phase in their lives. From the sound of it, there'd be no need to drive up to New Hampshire to see his aunt after today. They weren't returning to boring lives in which they pretended to be normal. They were going home, as a family. That put a smile on Frank's face that might never fade.

Okay, the life he was about to abandon wasn't that boring. He'd actually miss grad school, though he wouldn't expect most of the people in that room to understand why. Absolutely no part of him was tempted to remain, however. Like everyone else, he'd decided that the alternative had to be preferable even though he knew nothing about it.

Nothing, that was, save that they'd all be together.

"What, you think you're getting another one?" Todd asked as he approached. "You heard Grandma; it's my turn. Get your ass out of that chair."

Actually, Frank hadn't heard her say that, lost in thought as he'd been. Though, come to think of it, there might have been another reason. Someone had probably placed bubbles around the chairs, blocking sound waves so that the guys could have a little privacy with their dancers. That would explain why he hadn't he heard any of the smartass comments from the peanut gallery until the very end, when Brie had shouted at her mother.

"All yours," Frank told his brother, clapping him on the back.

At the far end of one couch, by the recliner Grandpa Dick still occupied, Liz sat pretending not to watch her sister climb into their brother's lap. Noreen was standing behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. As Frank's mother got to work, though, a smile spread across his grandmother's face; she might understand why her daughter couldn't decide whether to look away or stare in horror, but she herself was far from discomfited by the sight.

It was hard to say which of those reactions Frank had an easier time relating to.

He didn't want to enjoy seeing his mother bumping and grinding against another man like that, but he did. His throat was tight, however, and he was starting to feel dizzy. Frank was simultaneously relieved to see his uncle abide by the rules and yet wished the idiot would do them all a favor and lift the hem of her dress up, or just tear the damn thing to shreds.

How could his uncle just sit there, arms straight at his side, without so much as strained look on his face? Frank wouldn't have been able to behave himself with such a voluptuous vixen on top of him. If Bobby was even enjoying himself, though, it was only grudgingly. That offended Frank almost as much as the opposite would have made his blood boil.

"Soooo, how's it going?" Brie asked, pulling him down onto the other couch. He hadn't even realized he was still standing. That he'd failed to execute the simple task of sitting down once his eyes had settled onto his mother. "Did you enjoy your little one-on-one session?"

Dom swatted at the air between him and their cousin. "Leave the poor kid alone."

Had he been less enthralled by their mother's performance, Frank might have thanked his brother for that. As it was, though, he had a hard time remembering that anyone else existed—including their uncle. Frank could almost convince himself that his mother was dancing atop an empty chair, or a lump of wood shaped remarkably like a man. She was the only thing that mattered, as she always had been and always would be.

When she planted her brother's recalcitrant hands atop her ass, Frank inhaled sharply. That was nothing compared to the way she worked her hips, though. Her cycles were slow but emphatic; she'd surge forward abruptly then withdrew at a leafy pace. Meanwhile, his mother seemed to be moaning desperately into his uncle's ear. It was hard to say with the silencing domes in place, which he'd been right to suspect, but some very sweet memories rose to the surface of his mind and helped Frank imagine what that might sound like.

Yes, doggy was her favorite, but she still enjoyed cowgirl. She enjoyed everything they did together; everything she did with other men, too, for that matter. Frank had never met a woman with his mother's raw sensuality. His sister had quite an appetite as well, and it seemed that Brianna hadn't misrepresented herself on that front, but even they were a little restrained compared to the woman his very sense of self revolved around.

If it hadn't been painfully obvious that the man beneath her wasn't doing anything, Frank would have thought that his mother was about to orgasm. Yet his uncle now looked like he wished he was elsewhere. That probably bode well for his future with the other sister, which might be good news for Frank in more than one way yet still left him flabbergasted.

His mother didn't have a great sense of rhythm, or particularly fancy moves, but she more than made up for it with raw passion. Frank could feel her Libido thrum from across the room, which was almost as exciting as all the delicious sounds he couldn't hear. Hers was not the only one gently disturbing air particles as it sent ripples across another layer of reality, of course. Frank could pick her energy signature out of a crowd any day, though. If there were enough immortals anywhere in existence to form an actual crowd, that was.

Which perhaps there were, back "home." What an intriguing thought.

Oh, and he supposed Nat was treating Todd alright too. Not that anyone cared; at least not anyone whose named began with a "fruh" and ended with an "ank". As long as their mother was up there beside her, his sister could shake her ass until the stars fell from the sky and Frank would still take no notice. He might admit, reluctantly, that his sister was doing a better job of coordinating the movement of her body with the sound of the music, popping her ass against Todd's chest every time the bass thumped, but so what? Did she think someone was going to give her an award for Best Twerking By a White Girl?

Brianna snapped her fingers in front of Frank's face. "Hello?"

"No progress to report," Frank said. That was what she was really asking. She didn't care whether he'd gotten much out of her mother's halfhearted attempts. "You?"

"I haven't gone yet," his cousin said. "But you knew that, right?"

"Yep." His mother had moved his uncle's hands up to her chest. Any moment now, the most glorious pair of breasts would come spilling out. Frank wouldn't get a great a look at them, what with her back to him and all, but the prospect still made his cock throb.

"If you meant sex, we squeezed a quick one in this morning."

"It wasn't that quick," his brother added.

Their mother had ditched her brown cami and sliced the straps of her dress with fingers as sharp as knives, then hooked her thumbs inside the top.

Brie rolled her eyes. "He was great," she told Frank, the praise so perfunctory that a lesser man might have cringed. Of course, it took more than that to bruise Dom's ego. "I could have gone for more, but we didn't want to hold up the festivities."

"Naturally," Frank said, leaning forward on the couch, tensed in anticipation.

There it was. In one swift motion, his mother slid the top of her jumper down past her ribcage. Nothing more interesting than shoulder blades and the ridges of her spine would have been visible from that angle on most women, but his mother wasn't most women. Frank could only see a quarter moon at either side, pale and round, yet that was still enough to make him ball his fists and pop up like bread in a toaster.

"You alright there, buddy?" Brie asked with a titter.

"Huh, what?" he said, glancing at his cousin out of the corner of his eyes. "Um, can't say I'm surprised you weren't satisfied by a quickie." There, he was actively participating in the conversation. What more did she want? Couldn't she see that his mother was performing?

"You weren't complaining last night," Brianna replied with an indignant look. "In fact, I seem to recall something about you preferring women with voracious appetites."

"Point being?"

She shook her head in exasperation.

"You're never going to get his attention while she's in the room," his brother said, jerking his head towards their mother. "Especially not now that her clothes are coming off."

As he said that, their mother pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist, allowing her fat ass to come into view. The lacy boy shorts covered more than a thong would have yet less than briefs. Their mother rarely wore any other style of underwear and Frank was grateful for it. That mix of modest yet revealing struck him as perfect. Nat tended to mix things up more, which he supposed was good, but thongs and V-strings didn't really appeal to him.

"Honestly, can you blame him?" Dom added. "Tell me that ass isn't hypnotizing."

Brianna snorted derisively. Frank was willing to bet that his brother's words had stung, though. Their cousin couldn't have expected him to prefer a huge, soft ass to one that was medium-sized and carved from stone. Heck, Frank himself was a little surprised, until he remembered all the things his brother had whispered to their mother when no one else was supposed to be around—when no one else was around, though that didn't keep Frank from scrying on them. He wanted people to think that he had more or less the same taste in women as their younger brother, but Dom wasn't nearly as blind to their mother's perfection as Todd was. And even Todd found her harder to resist than he let on.

Without warning, their cousin whipped her hand between Frank's legs, taking hold of his cock. He gasped and sat up a bit straighter. Only after she relaxed her grip did he start to breathe again. "Got your attention now, don't I?" Brie said.

"If you want to hold it for more than a fraction of a second, you're gonna have to suck him off," Dom said, dividing his attention between their mother's rippling backside and their cousin's petite hand. That must have made Brianna's skin burn. "Not that he'd mind."

"Anymore than you would watching?" their cousin shot back, because apparently that was some great insult. Did Little Miss Sex-Positivity, who thought kink-shaming was nearly as bad as genocide, not approve of voyeurism? Or of guys being willing to sit patiently, waiting their turn? "Fat chance," she said, removing her hand.

That probably made it Frank's turn to point out that she too had sung a different tune the night before, but he didn't bother. He understood why the girl was bent out of shape. He wasn't about to apologize, let alone take his eyes off his mother, but he understood.

"Didn't realize your tastes were so similar," Brie told Dom, though even her eyes were glued to glorious glutes at the center of the room, and the woman working them with a grace and enthusiasm that was even starting to win their uncle over. Nat wasn't the only one who knew how to twerk. "That you two suffer from the same affliction," their cousin added.

Both brothers laughed. "What `affliction' would that be?" Dom asked.

"Maternus deliratio." Latin for "motherly infatuation", unless Frank was mistaken.

Dom shrugged. With no cruelty or malice, and perhaps even a touch of sympathy, he said, "Considering that she likes me better, I'd say he's the only one who's suffering."

Time slowed and the air turned to gel. Frank couldn't move or breathe. Was that the first time he'd heard his brother acknowledge that he was the favorite? Probably not. It certainly didn't sound like Dom thought it was. It sure felt like it, though. He'd taunted Frank plenty of times, talking about how funny it was that she preferred her firstborn even though he didn't work nearly as hard at pleasing her, and boasting about how he could get her to cum harder than she ever would for Frank without even trying. He only said those things to get under his brother's skin, though. Anytime Frank really got down about it, Dom would try to cheer to him up. That he somehow thought denying she practiced favoritism was a valid way of doing that was interesting, but Frank had always appreciated the intent.

Now, though, Dom was admitting that he'd long had what Frank craved above all else—a special place in their mother's heart. Taking a job on Wall Street and moving down to the city hadn't required him to relinquish his special status, either. He might not spend as much time with their mother as Frank did, at least while school was out for the fall, but he remained on top. From the sound of it, he'd be willing to transfer the honor if he could, but they both knew such things didn't work that way. Their mother was not like the old Mustang Dom had sold to Frank for a dollar after he'd upgraded to a new BMW.

"Want some advice?" his brother asked, as that was his to give.

"Sure," Frank replied, still feeling numb.

"Quit being a pussy," Dom said. "I know you think the only reason you haven't won her over yet is that life isn't fair, but you need to stop wallowing in self-pity and man up."

A weary sigh passed through his lips before he could stop himself. The guy was only trying to help; there was no need to get huffy. But, man, was Frank tired of being fed the same tripe over and over by people who claimed it was a delicacy. Everywhere one looked, the same advice was being dispensed, yet he was supposed to act like his brother had just shared some closely guarded secret? "Yeah, yeah, be more confident. I know."

He wondered, though, if anyone else knew that confidence was simply defined as expecting to succeed. Or, if they recognized that, whether they understood how spectacularly unhelpful it was to tell someone that they wouldn't keep failing if they'd just stop expecting to fail. When one experienced the same outcome over and over again, without fail, one tended to expect more of the same. Einstein himself had reportedly said that expecting anything different was the definition of insanity. Or was that Ben Franklin?

Either way, what guys who were said to be "confident" were rewarded for was not their expectation of success. Yes, they expected to succeed, and often did so, which could allow those who didn't understand the difference between correlation and causation to think that confidence had magical properties, but the real key was conforming to gender stereotypes that had more to do with dominance and aggression than how one estimated probabilities.

"Nah, fuck confidence," his brother replied. "I've heard your rant a dozen times and have told you I agree. Maybe you don't remember that right now, but it doesn't matter. The point is, you're right, nice guys do finish last. So stop being nice. Be aggressive."

Brie scoffed, but Dom ignored her. Had her objection been anything more than symbolic, something she knew would be overruled but still wanted on the record because it would have looked bad not to offer it, their cousin might interjected using some actual words. She didn't, though. In fact, a guilty grin appeared and she avoided Frank's gaze.

For his part, Frank couldn't decide how to react to his brother's words. Part of him wanted to be wrong about all of that, yet he was so fucking tired of people telling him that he was seeing something that wasn't there when he very obviously wasn't. It was like Dom had just assured him that he wasn't crazy yet confirmed his worst fears at the same time.

"You know that's what you have to do," his brother continued. "You haven't made your peace with it yet, but you're not stupid. Not even when it comes to women."

"I'd actually say he knows a few things that most guys don't," Brie said, sending her hand into his lap again to stroke him through his overalls. There was a green glimmer in her eyes as she turned to Dom and said, "He could even teach you a thing or two."

Chuckling, his brother said, "I don't doubt it. You keep thinking that can make up for what she feels is missing, though. It can't. You need to get rough with her."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, as Frank had gotten a little distracted by the blowjob their sister was giving their brother. Somewhere along the line, apparently, "no touching" had become "I probably won't let him fuck me in the ass, but we'll see."

Unfortunately for their uncle, their mother was sticking a little closer to the script. She was letting him to play with her breasts, which he'd given up pretending to have no interest in, but when he tried to take a nipple in his mouth, she laughed and pushed his head back. His cock had formed a very respectable bulge in his overalls, but there it remained.

"I smack her ass all the time," Frank eventually said.