F*cking Frank

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F*cking Frank Page 14

by Jen Luerssen


  “Absolutely. I’m sorry you’ll be the one having to travel.”

  “I don’t mind. The drive is anything but a hardship and getting to see you at the end of it is the ultimate reward.”

  “Fucking Frank, you old softie.”

  “Let’s keep that to ourselves, shall we?”

  “You think people don’t know that about you, but you’re mistaken. Your misanthropic outer shell isn’t fooling anyone.”

  “Guess I have to work on that.”

  She sighs again and we just sit listening to each other’s breaths for a while. It’s comforting.

  “My food’s here, I’ll let you go,” she says.

  “Okay, enjoy. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she says and hangs up.

  After I clean up, I walk into my room and smile at the ridiculous surfing mural I put up as a joke. Seeing it makes me feel closer to her. I’m counting the minutes until Wednesday. My phone pings with a text.

  Mikey: I just ate my weight in pesto pasta and I might burst.

  Frank: Like a crushed grape?

  Mikey: No grape jokes right now

  Frank: Seen a lot of grapes lately, have you?

  Mikey: Like is there anything else in the world but grapes? Doesn’t seem like it.

  Frank: Go to bed sweetheart, you’re done.

  Mikey: I am in bed. You have your hand down your pants?

  Frank: Always.

  Mikey: Jealous. I miss your pants.

  Frank: My dick misses you, can’t say how my pants are feeling.

  Mikey: Texting with you is fun-why don’t we ever text?

  Frank: Because we were together most of the time?

  Mikey: Still, we could have.

  Frank: I hate my phone like 75% of the time so when I’m with you I forget I even have one.

  Mikey: I’m so full.

  Frank: Oh, are we sexting already?

  Mikey: Har har. I can sext better than that.

  Frank: Prove it.

  Mikey: You can’t make me. I’m going into a food coma and I don’t think I could muster up sexiness right now.

  Frank: I doubt that, but since we did already have sex four times today, I’ll let you off the hook.

  Mikey: I’m feeling that four times in my nethers.

  Frank: *Puffs out chest.

  Mikey: Okay cocky boy, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

  Frank: Love your face.

  Mikey: Love your ass.

  I laugh and lay back in my bed, way too wired to sleep. How did I get so lucky? A beautiful, funny and brilliant woman actually loves me and puts up with my shit. I pick up a historical romance from my nightstand and read a little before bed. When I fall asleep, I’m pretty sure it’s with a smile.

  F*cking Too Much Information

  IT’S BEEN A MONTH SINCE I’ve been back in the city and it’s been both rough and great. The city is having its usual beautiful fall weather, the surf has been decent, and I’ve been busy with jobs, but not so busy that I’m unable to visit Mikey at least once a week.

  When we are together, it’s like we’ve never been apart. We eat, drink whiskey, read our porn novels and then act them out. After a day or two, I head back to the city and that’s when things are a little rough. As much as I work, surf, and play music, there is always something missing.

  Today I’m helping at my parent’s store because my dad decided to take some fishing trip to Costa Rica with his current lady. My mom acts like she doesn’t mind covering for him when I know she does.

  “Ma, when are you going to take a trip?” I ask her as we stock herbal tea.

  “Me?” she asks. “Like I’d trust your father with the store alone for more than a day.”

  “I’d be here to help. Don’t you want a break? Maybe go to Hawaii or somewhere warm?”

  She laughs. “Oh, Francisco, why would I ever go somewhere else when everything I’ve ever wanted is right here?”

  I roll my eyes because she says this to me every time I bring up her taking a vacation. “You don’t have to go anywhere, just take a week off and take time for yourself. Like be a tourist in your own city, go to Alcatraz, take a walking tour, go to museums, maybe have a spa day.”

  “That does sound nice, but I can just do those things on my day off.”

  “I just want you to be happy, and to treat yourself every once in a while,” I say and I mean it. I love my mom and I wish she would open up her heart to more. My dad really fucked her up.

  “You are my best treat. When you come to help out it means more than you know,” she says.

  “I worry about you, mom, that’s all.”

  She huffs out a laugh. “Don’t worry about me, I’m a millionaire, single, and am a respected member of my community. I rock.”

  I kiss her on the cheek. “Yes, you do.” I smile at her and feel a bit better. My dad is an idiot. He didn’t fuck her up, he did her a favor. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

  She smiles slyly. “Maybe, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I want to hear about Mikey. I can’t believe she’s that tiny little screaming baby from your birthday. That girl had a pair of lungs on her. You, on the other hand, were fat, happy, and quiet.”

  I told my mom about Mikey early on and she, being the new age hippie she is thought it was kismet and divine intervention and all that. “I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s still pretty loud and tiny.”

  “It’s nice to see you happy, you’ve been quiet and fat for too long,” she teases, pinching the non-existent fat on my side.

  “I am happy, it feels good,” I say and mean it.

  “What feels good?” A voice asks from behind me. More specifically, Mikey’s voice.

  I turn and she’s there, her hair is shorter and her glasses are missing but she’s there. Smiling at my dumb ass for just standing there. She is wearing dark jeans, a white tee and an army green sweater. Exactly what I’m wearing, with the exception of my apron.

  I open my arms and she jumps in. “Sweetheart. What are you doing here?” I ask, spinning her around.

  I put her down and she holds onto my arms to keep from falling. “I’m here because Sebastian kicked me off the vineyard. Mostly, I’m here to see you.”

  “Wow, she is pretty loud, you weren’t kidding,” my mom chimes in. “Still beautiful and tiny too.”

  I laugh and turn Mikey to face her. “Mikey, this is my mother, Theresa,” I say and gesture to my mom. “Ma, this is my Mikey.”

  “So nice to meet you again, Mikey,” my mom says, grabbing her hand. “Francisco has told me everything, I’m so pleased you two found each other again. When you’d cry in the nursery, my little Francisco would pump his arms up and down until you stopped. The nurses said that you tracked his arms and it calmed you. You’re both Cancers so I’m sure you are like two little bugs in a rug, most of the time.”

  “Mom, no one believes in that stuff except for you,” I complain and she pats my cheek, ignoring me.

  “There’s the moodiness I’m sorry you have to deal with, Mikey.” She takes Mikey’s hand and leads her to the back of the store where there’s a small café set up. It was the only positive from the scammer, Kale’s time with us, he said we needed a juice and herbal tea bar. It’s been very successful. Mikey and I sit and my mom heads to the bar.

  “Mom, I can make us something,” I protest and start to get up.

  She motions for me to sit and starts taking out items to make my favorite smoothie, peanut butter and banana topped with a sprinkle of Kix. She buys the Kix at the local Safeway and keeps a box for me behind the bar. Yeah, I’m a momma’s boy, fuck off.

  While she’s making our drinks, I grab Mikey’s hand and kiss her palm. “I’m so glad you are here. It’s the best surprise. Sheldon is out of town so we can fuck all over the apartment and be really loud.”

  “How did I end up with such a romantic partner?” she asks jokingly. “You’re going to lick my pussy a few times too, right?”

  She says
this a little loud because the blender is going, but it stops when she shouts pussy. Her face goes scarlet and I laugh as she kicks my shins.

  My mom brings our drinks and makes it worse. “Francisco Freedom Fontana, you better be giving this woman a fair amount of oral sex,” she says and Mikey’s eyes go wide. “I thought I raised you right.”

  I see Mikey’s eyes light up at my middle name, fuck.

  “Oh, no worries, Theresa, he was most assuredly raised right.”

  “Oh good, well I’ll leave you two to catch up and I hope you can come for an early dinner tonight?”

  “Ma,” I warn. “Mikey’s only here for a small amount of time.”

  “You’ll be done early, I promise you can get to licking soon after.” She turns and walks back to the tea aisle.

  “Jesus, Fucking Frank, your mom is the best person I’ve ever met. I think I spotted like a minuscule blush when she mentioned oral sex. So, there is one person that can embarrass you?” She purses her lips, tapping them with her finger.

  “I forget she’s like that because I haven’t introduced her to anyone in a while. Wait until dinner, she’ll ask if you enjoy anal sex and then recommend a cleansing herbal tea and some organic lube.” She will too. When I was 15 I had a girl over for dinner and my mom handed her a box of condoms and asked if she needed any advice about how to reach climax. My dad was just as bad. The day I went to prom we watched a super awkward video about how to bring your partner to orgasm manually, orally, and with penetration. My parents have zero sex hangups and fortunately they passed that along to me, along with helping me by always being honest and providing me with probably too much sex education.

  “I am really looking forward to that, and for the record, I do enjoy that,” she says and I am now at work with my mom with a hard dick. Mikey and I haven’t completely gone there but (haha) we have had our fingers and tongues involved and it was fucking awesome.

  “Noted,” I say placing her hand on my crotch.

  We pick up our smoothies and take large sips. Mikey’s eyes light up. “Holy shit, is this peanut butter and banana with, wait, it that fucking Kix?” She is smiling while half shouting this question.

  I laugh and nod. “Do you like it?”

  “Did my mom tell you it was my favorite and she used to make it for me when I was a kid?” she asks seriously.

  “No, but my mom made me my favorite hoping you’d like it,” I say.

  “God, we are the weirdest couple but I love us,” she says, takes a giant sip, and pops some Kix in her mouth.

  I squeeze her hand in my lap. “I love you.”

  “Oh, Francisco Freedom, you sweet talker.” I knew it was coming, I’ll never live it down.

  “I thought you loved me? If you truly do you’ll never speak of my middle name again—especially not in front of Joe.”

  “Knowing your middle name just made me love you more. I promise I’ll only bring it up a few times a week—never in front of Joe.”

  “Can you also promise to never use it while I’m fucking you? It’s an instant erection killer.”

  “You know this from experience?” she asks, chuckling.

  “Unfortunately,” I say and we both burst into laughter.

  My mom makes her famous vegetarian taco salad and Mikey and I entertain her with stories of our summer. She’s heard some of it already from me, but I didn’t tell her too much about our shared tastes or our matching clothes. She mentioned it when we arrived upstairs and my apron was gone. I think she genuinely teared up at the thought. I mean, I’m 33 and kind of an asshole, so I think she saw me as a lost cause when it came to romance.

  “You two are darling, tell me, Mikey, do you want children?” my mom asks, a gleam in her eye.

  “Ma!” I warn.

  Mikey takes a deep breath, “I’ll be honest, it’s not something I thought about until recently. I’ve worked really hard at my career for years and when I was engaged to Archie we talked about it as a faraway someday. When that fell apart, I didn’t think about it again, until, well until I met your son.”

  “Ma, don’t push her, we’ve only been together a few months.”

  “I know, but you both aren’t that young, and if this is serious, you should talk about it,” she says and it’s time to cut her off.

  “We will, and when we have something to tell you about it we will,” I tell her, hoping I don’t sound harsh.

  My mom gives me a wink and pats my hand. “Oh, you will.”

  I shake my head and change the subject. “What’s for dessert?”

  “Your favorite of course, key lime pie,” she says getting up to get it. “Oh,” she says like she’s just remembered something, “I almost forgot, I picked up something just for you two earlier.” She leaves the room in a hurry.

  Mikey and I laugh at the ridiculousness of it all until she returns holding a bag from a store next to the market called “Touch Yourself.” Yep, it’s exactly what kind of store you think it is.

  My mother hands Mikey the bag and stands expectantly, waiting for her to open it. Mikey smiles as she opens the bag and pulls out something wrapped in tissue.

  “I know my Francisco, and he tells me you have a healthy sex-positive attitude so I thought I’d get you a gift.” I groan and Mikey’s face turns pink as she unwraps a string of anal beads.

  “Thank you, Theresa, it’s very thoughtful,” Mikey says putting the beads back into the bag. “I’m sure they’ll fit in Francisco Freedom just fine.”

  My mom laughs and claps her hands. “Oh, Mikey, you are perfect.”

  We both join my mother in a laugh and I agree. “She is,” I say and kiss my perfect woman.

  F*cking Things are Happening

  MIKEY LOVES MY APARTMENT. I knew she would. She loves the ocean as much as I do and since our style is so similar, she could have decorated it herself. When I show her my bedroom she falls on the bed and laughs.

  “Did you not believe me about the mural?” I ask.

  “I didn’t, I seriously thought you were fucking with me. It doesn’t seem like something you’d pick out.” She puffs up her chest and uses a mocking tone I’m assuming is me. “This looks like something a teenager would choose. I’m a goddamned adult.” After she says this, she continues to roll around the bed in hysterics.

  I jump on her and pin her down. She is out of breath and glorious. I can’t go one more minute without my lips on hers so I dip my head and kiss her. We cling to each other, deepening the kiss. It’s only been a week but it’s felt like an eternity since I’ve had my hands on her. She moans and I travel down her jawline to her neck, meeting my hand sitting in its favorite spot at her throat.

  “Frank, I need more,” she says desperately and I understand completely. My need for her is primal. I run my nose along her neck into her hair.

  “I always want more from you, more skin, more hair, more you,” I say as I tug her hair and bite her gently behind her ear.

  We pull at each other’s clothes and eventually are rid of them, despite our inability to separate properly. Once we are naked I hover over her, letting my erection bob and hit her in the hip. She pushes back on me and I position myself at her entrance and slide in.

  “There?” I tease.

  She playfully smacks my shoulder and I kiss her again. We stay like that for a while, just kissing, me nestled inside her, not moving. Just feeling the connection between us, her welcome warmth, my intrusive neediness. Her legs slide up to rest on my lower back and she gives me a squeeze signaling me to get moving. I pull slowly back coming all the way out and then press back in just as slow.

  “There,” she sighs.

  I continue to love her slowly and deeply, she comes first and then I pick up the pace, getting her to come undone once more as I join her. After, I flip onto my back taking her with so she’s sprawled across me. I stroke her back while we catch our breaths and feel total happiness. My mom is right, we are perfect for each other, she is perfect for me.

  “You h
ave about 30 minutes of recuperation and then we are breaking in the anal beads,” Mikey says and I huff out a laugh,

  “Great, I’ll get the thank you card for my mom ready.” I make like I’m getting up and she pushes me back down.

  “Dear Theresa, thank you for the thoughtful gift, we’ve used it several times now and every time brings more and more pleasure,” Mikey says in a funny voice.

  “You joke but my mom would probably frame that card and put it next to her bed.” I’m not lying either. My mom is always worried about people’s sexual health. She has a bowl of free condoms at each check out station at the store and collaborates with Touch Yourself at the holidays to make gift baskets to sell. I know this because I often have to put them together. Once she had me make a gift basket for a “grandparent.” It contained a large bottle of lube, fuzzy handcuffs, a bottle of wine and dried apricots. I asked why she didn’t just put prunes in it and she told me not to be ageist.

  “I’m so happy to be here. I wish I could stay more than two nights but I am already stressed leaving for that many,” she says, her hand trailing along the tentacles on my chest. “Can’t you just come and be my kept man? Like reverse harem but only you.”

  I squeeze her ass. “Sounds like a dream, until it turns into a nightmare because I’m not fun when I’m bored.” I’m not. If I don’t have something constructive to do I’ve been told I’m a complete asshole. If I go on a vacation I need to do an activity at least once during the day. I can relax but there needs to be a schedule.

  “Oh, I know. Remember when I made you stay in and read all day? You were good for like two hours.” She’s right. After the two hours I convinced her to put the book down so we could fuck, and then after a shower, I made her walk to the main building for lunch. I got through another hour of reading and then went for a run. When I got back, I fucked her again, showered again and then made us dinner. I’m unable to sit still for that long. That’s why I’ve never held an office job. Nothing sounds more torturous than spending the day stuck in front of a computer.

  “I need to be busy, I blame my dad. Where my mom can sit and relax, my dad has to be doing something, or turns out, doing someone other than his wife. I’m not like him in that aspect but I a have hard time doing one thing for too long, that’s why I like music. It’s active,” I say patting her ass like a bongo.

 

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