F*cking Frank

by Jen Luerssen

  “Morning, there’s coffee made and I have cereal but not much else.”

  “Sounds great, I eat cereal almost exclusively for breakfast, you probably don’t have my favorite though,” I say, babbling like some idiot. I walk to her counter where there’s a coffee pot and a clean empty mug waiting for me. It’s a souvenir mug from the Hoover Dam. I laugh because I love souvenir mugs and have a cabinet full of them, but I’m not telling her that. What stops me in my tracks is the giant orange box of Kix cereal. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “What?” Mikey asks, “You don’t like Kix?”

  Kix and Corn Pops are the only two cereals I eat. It’s not that popular of a cereal, so it’s another one of those eerie similarities. “No, I love it, just haven’t had it in a while. I usually eat Corn Pops but Kix will do.”

  Her face pales. She rises from her chair, walks to the pantry and opens the door. On the top shelf are three boxes of Corn Pops and two more boxes of Kix.

  “This is so weird,” I say, “I lied before, I eat Kix all the time. Your pantry looks a lot like mine. I just didn’t want you to look at me like you’re looking right now.”

  “This is like an unintentional Single White Female plot, I feel like I’m being elaborately pranked.” She returns calmly to her chair and takes a sip of coffee.

  “How about we just ignore any more funny little coincidences and just be?” I suggest because even I’m a little perturbed by the whole thing.

  “Okay, I can try, but it’s fucking weird.”

  “Great!” I exclaim and change the subject. “What are we wearing today?”

  She side eyes me. “Do you want to go through with it?”

  “Hell yes, we are going to get so much shit for our sleepover last night, might as well mess with them back.”

  “I was planning to wear the outfit I described to you yesterday, you can’t possibly have something to match.”

  “I have a pair of coral pink shorts and a black and white Hawaiian shirt, should I wear Docs, Vans or do you have any black shell top Adidas?” I’m half joking about the shoes but her eyes widen.

  “Let’s do the Vans today, it’s supposed to be hot,” She says, obviously trying to ignore another thing we both have.

  After pouring my coffee and cereal I sit next to her, scooting my chair even closer to her. “I like your shirt,” I say and reach over and touch the one and only button she has fastened. Then lean in to kiss her neck. She sighs and visibly relaxes.

  “What does an oenologist do on a Sunday?” I ask, kissing down to her octopus tattoo.

  She smiles, her hands on my cheeks. “We check the vines and turn the sparkling wine. Want to help?”

  “Absolutely, we have rehearsal later but Sebass didn’t want us to start in the tasting room until tomorrow. My day is flexible and I’d love to spend it with you.”

  “Good,” she says. “Do you mind if we keep the whole born on the same, day, time and place thing to ourselves for now?”

  “I don’t mind at all. Just a heads up though, Lia knows when my birthday is because she is nuts about birthdays. So the jig will be up eventually.”

  We finish up our cereal and coffee and then Mikey shows me her giant shower with a sturdy bench. She agrees to putting its sturdiness to the test by standing on it and letting me eat her pussy. I get extremely turned on when giving oral, so as she came on my face, I came on her feet. We laughed as I washed her feet, suggesting she can pretend it’s a special spa service.

  “Thank god we don’t have a spa here, I don’t need you suggesting jizz foot treatments to Sebastian. He’d probably think it was brilliant.”

  “This is an exclusive service only offered to you,” I say and plant a deep kiss on her gorgeous mouth.

  * * *

  I put my suit back on for my walk of shame, and take the golf cart to my cottage. The door opens as I pull up and Joe stands there tapping his watch, giving me a look like I missed curfew. “Franklin my boy, you are in deep doodoo. You were supposed to be home by midnight.”

  “Aw, Pa, I’m so sorry but I had to service the winemaker or she was going to spank me.”

  “Shit, she didn’t spank you?” Joe asks seriously.

  “Of course she did, but it was out of appreciation because I serviced her well. Now let me by.”

  Joe moves out of the doorway and follows me into the house. “So, it was good? Are you getting married? Did you get her pregnant?”

  “Fuck off,” I say and shut my bedroom door in his face.

  I’d finished unpacking yesterday so I easily find my pink shorts, the shirt, and some low black socks to wear with my Vans. When I go back into the living room, Joe is waiting to start with me again. I know he and Lia will be relentless. Most likely Andrew will join in as well but he’s not as obnoxious as them.

  I ignore Joe and all of his questions as I head back outside where Mikey is waiting for me in a different golf cart. She steps out and Joe loses it.

  “Stop it, you guys are killing me with the outfits. What are Frank one and Frank two up to today?”

  “We are checking the vines and turning the sparkling wine,” I say and climb into the cart.

  “Can I come?” he asks.

  I let my middle finger do the talking.

  “Aww, Frank one is no fun.” He storms inside as Mikey gets in and guns it.

  F*cking Vines

  WE SPEED OFF AND RIDE in silence for a while, just enjoying the sun and breeze.

  “Please, please tell me that was your 1972 El Camino parked next to your cabin?”

  “I can tell you that it is definitely mine. You a fan?”

  Her eyes widen and she nods. “My Papa used to take me out in his and I’d ride around in the back through the fields. Super safe, I’m sure.”

  “My Gramps had one too and he’d drive around the San Francisco hills with me in the back. How did we ever survive?”

  We both shrug and smile at each other.

  She takes us up and down rows and rows of vines and occasionally points out what type of grape is growing. I’m dying to know more about her so I restart our game from last night.

  “Favorite surf beach?” I ask, and she smirks at me.

  “Are we doing this lightning round business again?”

  I nod.

  “Okay, but if it gets weird again, it’s your fault.”

  “I just want to know more about you,” I say and this visibly softens her. “Favorite surf beach,” I repeat.

  “Supertubes in Jeffreys Bay, South Africa, Playa Grande in Costa Rica, and Ocean Beach,” she says in one long breath and then stares at me. I just smile and wait for her question. “Have you been in love?”

  Shit. I hate this question because it makes me seem pathetic if I answer honestly and the point of the game is to be honest. “Yes, a few times and it’s never gone well for me.”

  “Aww, poor, Frank,” she says sarcastically. “Are you looking for love in all the wrong places?”

  “You aren’t playing the game fairly, and yes, I am bad at love, especially when I direct it at people who don’t feel the same way.” She pouts and looks a little sorry. “What’s your favorite book?”

  “Oh seriously? We are just moving away from your unrequited tales of woe?”

  “Yep, that’s the way it works in the lightning round. You are free to needle me about it later, but I don’t guarantee any answers.”

  “I thought you were going to needle me later,” she says and waggles her eyebrows.

  I smile at her because she’s so beautiful and ridiculous. “Answer the question, Mikey.”

  “Ugh, well, all-time favorite would be A Confederacy of Dunces, but I also love Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and I’m obsessed with paranormal romance.” This shit between us is out of control, her favorite book is mine as well and I’d never admit it in a million years but I’m a huge fan of vampire romances, thank God I hate that fucker, Harry Potter, although Snape is my favorite and that book
is all about him.

  “I feel like we should just write down everything we like so we can be shocked all at once,” I say and her eyes widen.

  “You like paranormal?” she asks.

  I run my hands through my hair. “It started with the Sookie Stackhouse books that my roommate had laying around and then I got hooked, I like JR Ward and Jeaniene Frost and I will read urban fantasy too.”

  Her face looks like mine probably did a minute ago.

  “Also, Ignatius is my flatulent familiar,” I say, instantly hating myself for saying ‘familiar.’

  “Please never say ‘familiar’ again,” she says and we both crack up.

  “Do you like hot dogs?” she asks with a straight face.

  “I do like them, and I even once made a pilgrimage to New Orleans to get one from a cart. It was also Jazzfest, my favorite music festival.” I stare straight ahead now afraid to look at her reactions to anything I say. Instead, I change the subject to something safer. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

  She huffs out a laugh. “I was last-night-old,” she says and I pinch her lightly in her thigh and she smacks my arm. “I was 17, with my boyfriend in his pool house after prom. Very cliché, I know. Did you lose yours in a pool house at 17 too?”

  “I was 17 and it was after prom in a room with a pool table. I think that counts as the same.” We stare at each other, jaws dropped.

  “It’s like I almost can’t be with you because it’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?” she asks rhetorically.

  “We are different, despite the similar experiences and styles,” I say and pick up her hand. “It’s just jarring because we have more specific likes than most people.”

  “Oh, and the exact same day, time and location of our birth. Just that small bizarre tidbit.”

  She stops the cart abruptly and gets out, walking swiftly down a row of mustard flowers. While most of the fields are lined with grapevines, there are also a wide variety of flowers and herbs planted everywhere. I follow her and grab her hand when I catch up.

  “Tell me about the flowers, why are there so many around the vines?” I ask, squeezing her hand, hoping she calms down a little.

  She hesitates and turns to me, putting her palms on my chest. “Well, Fucking Frank, it’s called companion planting and it’s an age-old practice. Some plants increase the soil fertility, some keep pests and weeds away and some are used as natural trellises. We also want the bees to come but not other bugs so there are hyssop plants all over because bees like them but they repel leaf eaters.”

  Her expression has softened into a focused look of joy. Mikey clearly loves what she does and is very good at it. “See, I know nothing about wine, I hate Harry Potter, and I’m assuming you aren’t a secret music prodigy?”

  Her fingers are playing with the buttons on my ridiculous shirt as she exhales loudly. “You want to see my favorite patch of clover?”

  I smirk at her. “Are we speaking euphemistically?”

  “No,” she says slapping my chest, “but it is a really good private spot.”

  “Lead the way, beautiful Mikey.” She takes my hand and pulls me through the narrow row until we reach a small patch of clover, surrounded by purple bushes and then the vines.

  “We call this the four corners,” she says. “This is where four of our varietals meet and it’s one of my favorite spots.”

  My arms go around her from behind and I bend to nibble her ear a bit. “Can I make it even better?”

  Her answering groan gives me permission and I slide my hands down the front of her shirt and down her shorts. She melts into me as my fingers find her clit and they rub gently on either side, increasing pressure as she begins to writhe against me. I leave one hand at her clit as the other slides under her shirt to cup her breast and give her already hard nipple a tweak. My mouth is at her neck and I lick a small line up to behind her ear, a classic turn on spot for women, or so my experience has informed me.

  I stroke, pinch and lick her in three places for a while, her mews and moans, turning me on. As I kneel behind her, I take her shorts with me.

  “No panties? Naughty lady.” She laughs until my tongue at her opening silences her. My hands hold her at her waist to steady her. Once I’m certain she has her balance, I move them to spread her ass cheeks. My tongue gets better access and she bends a bit, pushing herself into my face. My tongue finds her clit and I exert as much pressure as she can stand.

  “Fuck, Frank, I’m going to fall,” she says breathily. I grab her around the front of her abdomen and lever her down to the ground on her knees. I lose my shirt and lean over her kissing down her spine, back to where I want to be. Her spine bows, ass in the air, she’s magnificent in her complete absorption of what I’m doing to her. I’ve always been a sexually free person; my parents are classic hippies and have zero hang-ups about sex and passed that to me. Mikey seems to have a similar freedom and I relish in it. We all have our insecurities but when I’m with someone sexually I drop mine, so does she.

  I add a few fingers and stroke her from the inside, she’s silky and hot, almost ready for me. I increase the pressure on her clit and curl my fingers inside, my thumb putting slight pressure on her ass. “Frank,” she calls out in a throaty whisper as she pulses around my fingers, my tongue easing its pressure to a soothing lick.

  She pushes herself up and reaches around her back to find my rock-hard dick, “No special spa treatment?”

  “Nope, I’m saving that for when I’m inside you,” I say with a bite to her ear.

  “Hurry up then,” she says, working my shorts down far enough to take my erection out. I gently push her to the ground, widening her legs.

  I caress her at her opening to make sure she’s ready for me, she is. My dick slides into her heat with very little resistance and it feels phenomenal. It also looks like a fantasy. A beautiful, strong-willed, and sexy woman on all fours taking all I can give her. I drape over her and fuck her slowly.

  “Frank, hurry, faster, harder,” she whispers and I lift her a little and turn her head so I can kiss her. It’s awkward but I want to feel the connection from head to toe. She bucks back into me and moves her hand to her clit. “I’m going to come again, you are so good.”

  I rise upright as I piston into her, slow down and then speed up again. She is moaning loudly and I’m sure every insect, bird, and animal within the area can hear us. The smack of our skin together, our cries of ecstasy, which this is by the way. Every minute I’m inside her is bliss, I’ve never had better.

  “Fuck, Mikey,” I call her as I pull her to me and thrust wildly into her. Her throaty moans send me over and I think she’s let out a few screams. She said she was going to fall earlier, but I’m the one falling.

  F*cking Distractions

  PRACTICE IS GOING HORRIBLY AND I don’t care. For once I’m the only one in good spirits. Lia is in a pissy mood because Javier can’t come to visit until next week. Andrew is tired from getting little sleep because his daughter was up in the night with growing pains. Joe is his usual asshole self and I’m just plucking along pretending I’m happy to be there when I’d rather be with Mikey. I’m a fucking sap, I know. We spent the day together and the hour I’ve been apart from her has sucked.

  * * *

  After our dirty afternoon in the clover, we went to her place, showered, and again tested the sturdiness of her shower bench—still gets an A-plus for construction. We ate a snack while she grilled me about my love failures, then she lent me a few books. We both picked something to read and then sat on her couch, Seawitch at our feet, and read until I had to go rehearse. It was quite the domestic scene and only slightly weird since I’ve known Mikey for just a few days. She’s an easy person to be with, not chatty, smells nice, and has a great “O” face.

  My book had a sex scene in the second chapter and since I had a beautiful woman nearby, I decided to act it out, and she was more than willing.

  “Am I the demigod or are you?�
�� she asked, legs over my shoulder, me on the couch and her draped down the front, shoulders to the floor.

  “Oh, I’m the full-fledged god and you are the demigod,” I said with a swivel of my hips.

  “I greatly admire your full fledge, Frank.” We laughed until I started moving again.

  * * *

  I’m daydreaming about her sucking the manna out of my god dick when a napkin hits me on the head. I look up and see Joe and Lia, arms crossed staring at me.

  “What the fuck is that look on your face, Frank?” Joe asks.

  “Seriously, you’re freaking us out,” Lia says, brows furrowed. “Are you smiling?”

  My hand goes to my mouth and I find that my lips are curled up into a little smile. Well shit, I am. I give them both a dirty look.

  “I’m not allowed to smile now? You guys the fucking smile police?”

  Lia and Joe turn to each other, mouths dropped. I can tell they are about to go ballistic so I cut them off. “This is our worst practice ever, let’s call it a day and reconvene tomorrow. You two are being dicks, and Andrew is exhausted. We are ready for tomorrow.”

  I pack up my bass and walk past Lia and Joe who are still staring at me like I’m an alien. Andrew laughs and follows me out, not having anything to pack away.

  “Thanks, I’m useless. Jen took Mae to the beach for the day so I’m going to crash until they get back. I like you like this,” he says and pats my back.

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “Happy-ish.”

  It’s funny, I guess I present myself as a serious and somewhat grumpy person, but if you asked me I’d say that I’m generally very happy. Just don’t feel the need to broadcast it to the fucking world.

  When I get to the cabin, I lie in my bed and try to wrap my head around the last few days. If you told me last week I’d meet a woman like Mikey, who shares so many coincidental similarities it’s almost comical, I would have probably ignored you. I most likely would have ignored you anyway.

  I send a quick text to Mikey, now that we’ve exchanged numbers.