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  • Autumn Pt. 01 Ch. 06

Autumn Pt. 01 Ch. 06

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Author's Note

This continues a re-telling of my Homelands series. I'm proud of the original versions but don't feel that they lived up to their full potential. This time around, you can expect a slower pace, stronger characterization, and a less grandiose plot. This is no longer an epic fantasy, with a huge battle between good and evil waiting at the end. If you read the original versions, you should feel as though you're revisiting old friends, but you shouldn't assume that you know how their story ends. If you haven't, there is no need to do so. This re-telling is meant to stand on its own and is my preferred version of the tale.

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The sun's rise preceded Frank's awakening by a matter of minutes. That was rather unusual for him, but so many things had changed in the past twenty-four hours that it would almost have been more surprising if his sleep schedule wasn't disrupted.

Besides, they'd gone to sleep early and a few hours' rest was generally all their kind needed. When Nat shared his bed, they rarely called it quits before three or four in the morning, and when his dad spent the night at Aunt Cindy's, Frank and his mom didn't bother to sleep at all, but Liz had passed out around midnight. Frank had stayed up a little longer, reading his book and listening to her breathe softly, but not much.

"I'll check in on you in a little while," he told his aunt, who was still fast asleep. Immortal bodies were incredibly resilient, but they were still prone to exhaustion of a sort. They just didn't experience fatigue in the same way that mortals did, or for the same reasons. No amount of exercise ever left them sore, for example. They were never closer to surrendering their immortality than at the moment of climax, however. When their Libidos turned fragile, many of their powers and immunities failed. Thus, an unbroken string of potent orgasms could really knock them the fuck out. Frank had done most of the work, at her insistence, but Liz had done more of the cumming. "Sleep tight," he added, kissing a mound of messy black hair. It smelled faintly of sweat, even though she'd cleaned herself up before falling asleep, as well as fabric softener from the pillowcase, flowers, sugar, and blackberries.

One spell stopped sunlight from getting past the appled curtains. Another ensured that Liz would have total silence even if a band put on an impromptu concert in the hall.

On his way to the kitchen, Frank gave himself a tour of Orwin Manor. His path was meandering, leading up to the third and fourth floors, out onto the roof, and down to the basement. He discovered indoor gardens where vegetables and herbs grew, a rooftop patio that sat between a bowling alley and a basketball court, several libraries that gave him the hugest nerd boner, art and music studios, two mini theaters with electronic devices that confused him as much as they caused delight, a fully stocked bar that put all the miniature ones found throughout the place to shame, and a huge gym with free weights, cardio machines, a sound system that might be state of the art in the mortal world ten years or so into the future, flat screen TVs, and an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Along the way, he also passed more bedrooms than one family could possibly need, even if every one of the new arrivals went on to have several kids of their own. All of the furniture was stylish yet comfortable, though what style it represented differed from room to room. Ultra-modern designs predominated, but several rooms had a more traditional aesthetic. A few were more rustic. Or was that French country? He'd sat through more hours of HGTV for the sake of a relationship that apparently hadn't been worth as much as a few passionate minutes with his older brother, but certain nuances were still lost on him. He'd have done an even worse job matching each painting and sculpture with the appropriate style of art, but they still impressed him. Best of all, though, given his preferences, were the numerous quiet places to sit and read. The bay windows on each floor granted stunning views of their pastoral Court, including the famous Orwin orchards and their somewhat less storied pumpkin patch.

The place could have been a dump and he'd still have no desire to return to the world they'd left behind, of course. He'd miss certain things, including grad school, but what could be better than having all of his family under one roof and nothing to keep them from spending quality time together? Orwin Manor's stunning decor, to say nothing of its myriad options for comfort and entertainment that he didn't expect to take full advantage of but would still enjoy from time to time, was little more than the layer of whipped cream atop a frappucino. Frank had enough of a sweet tooth that he never declined that, though.

With thoughts of caffeinated beverages on his mind, Frank decided to finish his tour at the master kitchen, even though he'd already seen it. There were smaller ones on each of the upper floors, in case anyone woke in the middle of the night and couldn't be bothered to go down a flight of stairs, or use their magic, but if anyone else was up, that's where they'd be, and Frank was feeling more sociable than he had the night before.

"Morning," his grandfather said, from behind the island counter. He'd been bent over, grabbing something from a shelf down low. A muffin tin, apparently. "You're up early."

"You're very perceptive," Frank replied.

His grandfather scowled, snorted, then jerked a thumb at the coffee machine.

The damn thing looked like a set of beer taps, and there were more varieties available than in most coffee shops. Apparently, all Frank had to do was put a mug underneath one of the handles, pull, and wait. He grabbed one out of the nearest cabinet, which looked liked a hollowed-out pumpkin, and chose kopi luwak. He'd only ever heard of that in grad school, though no one in Rochester could afford it. It was just that economists couldn't help but be fascinated by a coffee bean that sold for hundreds of dollars a pound.

And was worth every penny.

Or maybe Frank only thought that because he was in Autumn, where everything was better. The master kitchen was thrice as big as the one he'd grown up with. The appliances were stainless steel and the cabinets a rich burgundy that was shined to a finish. The island counter top was granite, as were the floor tiles. His mother had been trying to talk his father into renovating their kitchen for the past few years, and granite counter tops had been at the top of her wish list, but in the simulation, they either had to pay professionals to do hard labor or risk exposing their supernatural powers to their friends and neighbors. Such things hadn't occurred to him in the night before, when he'd been more focused on Liz and whether he'd get a goodnight kiss. Funny how his grandfather didn't have the same effect.

"Whachya making?" he asked his grandfather, noticing a big brown bowl with a bunch of ingredients already mixed together. "And since when do you bake?"

With a shrug, his grandfather said, "One only gets so many chances to welcome one's grandchildren to their ancestral home." From what Frank understood, the whole Court was only a few generations old, but he supposed that term still applied. His grandparents were his ancestors, weren't they? "Just apple muffins for now. When people start to trickle in, I'll fire up the skillet and make pumpkin pancakes, sausage patties, and bacon."

"Wow."

An eyebrow climbed his grandfather's forehead. "That it? No other smartass comments?"

Frank shrugged. "Something something Noreen be doing that?"

Grandpa Dick snorted. "I see you've taken to calling her by her first name."

"You want I should do the same with you?"

"No," came the prompt reply. "You can if you want to," his grandfather added, voice softening. "But don't do it on my account. And if you do, it's Richard. Not Dick or Dickie."

After saluting his grandfather with his coffee mug, Frank sat atop one of the stools.

"There are puzzle books over there," Richard said, nodding towards some shelves.

"Cool," Frank without budging.

With a frustrated sigh, his grandfather put the bowl down and stared at him. "If you're looking to grill me about the political situation, don't bother. I'm under strict orders from the boss, and even if I didn't like to keep my wife happy, I wouldn't be up for that this early in the morning." Perhaps realizing that he'd fired both barrels at a man armed only with a coffee mug, he then added, "I'm happy to answer any question that doesn't have to do with leaf-biters and returnists, relations with other Courts, or any of that."

"Leaf-biters and returnists? Are those like liberals and conservatives?"

Richard swore under his breath as he poured mixture into the tin. "You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that?" He looked up at Frank. "I love you, and you've gotta know that half the shit I gave you over there was for show, but you need a mute button."

"Probably."

That drew an amused snort from his grandfather. "Lizzie take you to Harveston?"

"Good guess," Frank replied.

"She loves going into town," Richard explained, unnecessarily. "Ellie appreciates the occasional night out, especially at a crowded restaurant where lots of people can see her on your arm and seethe with jealousy, but most days she's content to stay at the manor—preferably in bed. Her sister, though?" He shrugged. "That one likes sex, as do we all, but not nearly as much she does bookshops." Before Frank could react to that, not that he even knew what he'd have said, his grandfather asked, "How did you like Talking Leaves?"

Part of him wanted to push back against his grandfather's characterization of his aunt, if only because of it had clearly been pejorative. The man wasn't wrong, though. Liz was not a nymphomaniac like his mother and his sister. Her appetite was decidedly satiable, and her love of books probably did trump her love of orgasms. Frank wanted to say that he admired that about her but would have been lying if he said that his mother's sex drive was too much for him. So all he said was, "It's pretty freaking amazing."

Richard laughed as he slid the tin in the oven. "I'm glad you think so, because you're going to be seeing a lot more of it." As he stood back up, he gave Frank a smile that was surprisingly genuine. Then he said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but if you break either of my daughters' hearts, I'm going to break every bone in your body. Twice."

Maybe he was exactly the sort of guy Frank thought he was.

No, that wasn't fair. The Grandpa Dick he thought he knew didn't approve of sex outside of marriage, let alone within the family. He wasn't telling Frank to keep it in his pants, either; just not to break any hearts. That was not only reasonable but perhaps even admirable. To think that he had to protect his daughters from a guy half their age was also patriarchal, but there was a genuine regard for their happiness there that Frank couldn't help but respect.

"I won't."

"Better not," Richard replied.

"I won't," Frank repeated. Nor would he have even if the man hadn't threatened him.

At least not intentionally.

Did his aunt want more from him than he was prepared to offer? Perhaps. Frank wasn't really sure what his intentions were, though. Nor did he know whether it would bother his mom or come as a relief to her should he go in the direction that the whole family seemed to be steering him. He also knew that he wasn't going to give up on her that easily. If things never worked out the way he'd always assumed that they eventually would, then it would be because his mother didn't feel the same way about him, not because Frank hadn't given it his best effort. Liz wouldn't love to hear him say that, though.

Perhaps his grandfather should just go ahead and get it out of the way.

"What are we talking about?" someone asked from over Frank's shoulder. At first, he thought it was his mother. It seemed he'd forgotten that his grandmother's voice was nearly as deep. Noreen stepped up behind him, put his hands on his shoulders, and started working knots that weren't there out of his thick muscles. "Morning, you," she said, going up on tiptoes to kiss the back of his head. At least, he assumed she had to do that in order to reach him; her voice was not the only thing she had in common with his mother.

"The beating I'll have to give Frank if he's not careful with Lizzie and Ellie," Richard said as his wife circled around the island counter to give him a kiss on the lips.

One that lasted longer than Frank might have expected.

He tried not to feel awkward, admiring his grandmother's outfit and the shapely figure it concealed while blocking out the sounds of their smooching. The effort was at least partially successful. Despite the early hour, Noreen was dressed like she was headed somewhere. Her brown pants couldn't have been tighter, though her princess dress was loose and had a modest neckline. It was made of dark green silk, with apples of medium and yellow-green patterned over it. She wore a gold hoop belt, emerald earrings shaped like green apples, and jangling bracelets. Brown booties adorned her feet and her curly hair was tied up in a bun.

"Isn't it a bit early for talk of violence?" Noreen asked after pulling away from Richard. There was a grin on her face that might pass for chiding but was closer to bemused.

"Thank you," Frank said.

Turning to him, his grandmother said, "You do need to tread carefully, though, dear."

"You were the one who told me to `make a run' at Liz." Her, and Brianna. And Dom. Shit, everyone but Bobby would probably get around to expressing that opinion eventually.

"I did indeed," Noreen admitted. "And I don't regret it. While I knew the two of you would hit it off, though, I didn't expect things to progress so quickly." An amber twinkle appeared in her eye. "Did you fuck her after you got back from your little date?"

"Grandma!"

Richard snorted. "Now he's Mister Manners."

Frank sighed. "Maybe I did. So what?"

As his grandmother moved back to his side of the counter, positioning herself between his legs and pressing her green nails into his thighs, Frank's heart nearly burst. She wasn't in the running with her two daughters. It was bad enough that Frank couldn't decide which one he wanted a romantic relationship with, in addition to sexual one, or whether it was possible to do so with both; he certainly didn't need to add Noreen to that list. And wasn't about to, either. But, damn, did she know how to get his blood flowing. "I've got some business to attend to," she told him. "If it goes the way I fear it will, Bobby's not going to be around much for a while. That means Lizzie's going to need even more attention from you. If you're willing to provide it, great. But if not, you'd better tell her so now."

"What business?" Frank asked.

Predictably enough, his grandmother ignored the question. "I think you already know that monogamy's not too popular around here," she said, allowing her nails to graze his cock through the fabric of his drawstring pants. "If you fool around with every Orwin woman, no one will hold it against you." Her red lips curled into a smile that made his dick throb. "To be perfectly honest, I don't love that some people in this house are only willing to share their bodies with a few of their family members."

With a nervous laugh, Frank looked at his grandfather. "Does she mean—"

"No," Richard assured him. "Not that."

"That wouldn't bother me," his grandmother explained, "but I accept that most of you are strictly hetero. Most days, I think I probably am too." Most days? "I'm not asking you to suck your grandfather off, or let your brothers fuck your butt. I just mean that our house would be stronger, emotionally and politically, if some people weren't so choosy."

She couldn't mean him. He'd had sex with every woman in the family already, and had no plan to cut any of them off—not even Nat. The others had done plenty of swapping as well. Neither of his brothers had any interest in Liz, though, nor she in them. And it wouldn't surprise him if years went by before his sister so much as kissed their uncle.

"You can have sex with whomever you want," Noreen continued, as she also continued to stroke his cock. Frank decided that meant it was okay for him to reach around back and give one of her firm buttocks a good squeeze. "That's not only allowed but encouraged, so long as you don't go outside the family until it's time for us to arrange a marriage for you," his grandmother said, because apparently Frank was supposed to get on board with an arranged marriage. That wasn't really a surprise, yet it was at the same time. Until that point, there'd only been vague allusions to such, which he'd told himself couldn't possibly mean what they seemed to mean. "Be careful who you fall in love with, though."

"Who said anything about—"

"I know, we're not supposed to use that word," his grandmother interjected. "That rule was instituted for a reason." Yeah, because she'd imposed it on them, or so Frank was willing to bet. "None of us knows for sure what will happen if we eat of the golden fruit, or plant a seed in the field from which it came, but I doubt it's anything good. And once you embark down a certain path, you're likely to find some temptations impossible to resist."

"Are you telling me not knock either one of them up or that I need to accept that Liz and I are a better match?" Frank asked, leaning forward in the hopes that she might press her lips to his. He wanted an answer to his question but wanted to taste those candy apple reds even more. They were so plump and shiny and beautifully bowed.

She didn't take the hint, though.

"Both," Noreen said.

From the other side of the counter, which only seemed like it was miles away, Richard chortled. "You're a good kid, Frank, and if you do as you grandmother says, you've got my blessing. If you think you can win Ellie away from me, though, you're crazy."

"Aren't you already in a pretty serious relationship?" Frank asked, without taking his eyes off his grandmother. No one had explicitly said as much yet, but it seemed that most marriages amongst their kind were for convenience, even when they weren't political. Once the children came of age, the union ended, however amicably. That his grandmother and his grandmother remained together after not one but two generations had joined the Court had to mean something. "With this woman right here?" he said, giving Noreen's ass a slap. He was trying to focus on her face rather than those ginormous tits of hers, and he supposed it helped that they weren't spilling out the top of her dress, but it wasn't easy.

"We're quite happy together," his grandmother replied as she fished his cock out of his drawstring pants. That gave Frank an excuse to look down and steal a quick glimpse of some great cleavage. There was only so much of it visible but his imagination, and his memory, filled in the rest. As ever, her extreme endowment caused his brain to malfunction. He tried to comprehend the sheer scale of her natural wonders but failed. Then tried again and met with no more success. It made no sense for a woman of her physique—or perhaps any—to be that stacked. "We also love our children very, very much," she concluded.

Pre-cum oozed out of Frank's cockhead. He hadn't realized how desperately he needed her to fellate him but decided in that moment that if she didn't, he just might die. Though he supposed he could settle for some titty-fucking, if she'd do everyone a favor and lose that dress. Even if that didn't transition into a blowjob, the way he knew it would.

"Just some more so than others," he said without looking at his grandfather.

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