Chapter #103Frank's Face by: imaj   You walk slowly along the sidewalk, Frank’s arm wrapped round your waist. Although that makes you feel just a little uncomfortable, you’ve subsumed your own doubts in the fragments of Hélène’s persona. It’s weird, but it’s almost like watching yourself doing something from afar.
Frank comes to a stop. You’ve reached the boys house. Of course, ‘Penny’ doesn’t know that, so you feign puzzlement. “What,” you ask.
“This is our house,” explains Frank. “I’ll just grab the truck keys and I can take you back to your apartment.” He hesitates for a few seconds. “I…uh… had a good time tonight,” he adds.
You hold onto his hand as he pulls away from you. “Could we have another coffee before we go,” you ask innocently. It’s an expression that comes easily to Hélène’s face.
“Sure,” replies Frank guilelessly. He leads you up to the front door. “Joe must still be out,” he says as he unlocks it. There are no lights on in the windows
You trail after Frank as he enters the house, catching him of guard when you turn around and push him against the wall. “Forget the coffee,” you say, leaning into kiss him. It is like kissing a statue: he is totally unresponsive. Not quite totally, you realise, a greasy feeling starts to build up in the air around you as Frank reaches for his own powers.
Again, that’s not something ‘Penny’ would recognise, although the change in the air would be noticeable. You pull back from Frank. “What,” you say, feigning puzzlement again.
“Nothing, it’s just…” trails off Frank, momentarily at a loss for words. You examine him closely. There’s a sense of nervousness there, and a sense that he’s struggling to reassert his iron self control. Is he into that whole self denial thing? You’re sure someone told you Lurgae could be like that once, though you can’t remember who.
“I thought we could have a little fun,” you say running one hand through Frank’s hair. The other hand snakes down his shirt, feeling for the hard muscles of his stomach before winding round to his firm ass. Frank almost seems ready to jump out of his skin, such are the competing pressures of his self denial and your – Hélène’s really - seduction. Again, you marvel at just how naturally this comes to her.
Frank seems to think about this. He wavers as the competing pressure vie for supremacy. Then, it’s almost as if he snaps, Frank’s arm leaps forward and pulls your head back in towards his. He kisses you hard and fast, his tongue questing about inside your mouth like a sword looking for a soft, unarmoured spot to plunge into. When he relents you are almost surprised when you find yourself purring your appreciation.
“Bedroom,” growls Frank. It’s not a question, but you are only to happy to follow in his wake as he grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs.
Frank’s room is laid out with military precision. Not a thing out of place and not a wrinkle on the bed covers. You don’t have much time to look around though, as Frank spins back round and resumes his urgent kissing. His hands roam your body, working their way inside your skirt and loosening it.
You could take his imago right now: Knock him out and lay him on his bed, sneak out of the house before he wakes. It’s tempting, but even the slightest hint that something isn’t quite right could alert Frank. He would probably wipe the floor with you. Looks like you’ll have to wait till he’s sleeping.
Of course, that means…
Well at least you had practice doing Rick’s bedroom face work in Oxford. You slip your own hands under Frank’s shirt, running them over his taught muscles before rushing to undo the buttons. You’re locked into frenzied abandon with Frank. Your hands and Frank’s desperately search each other bodies as you undress each other. All the while your heads dart backwards and forwards as you kiss passionately.
There is a sudden break and Frank regards you as you stand close, your hands locked round his waist. He grins and pushes you backwards onto the bed. Frank clambers on top of you and you squirm as he pushes apart your thighs.
Then he gets back off you and stands up. “What,” you ask, suddenly worried that the prize is escaping.
Frank is almost a comic figure, standing their with his pants round his ankles, his cock at half mast and yet clearly deep in thought. “I’ll be right back,” he says, kicking his pants and shorts off. He dashes out of the room.
What the hell is this about? You can hear Frank rummaging about next door, in Joe’s bedroom. At a loss for something to do, you strip the last of your clothes off and climb under the bedcovers. After a few minutes, Frank returns, his cock sheaved in the semi-transparent plastic membrane of a condom.
You try not to laugh at the absurdity of the reason behind the hiatus. You’ve got no idea exactly how what passes for your biology now works, but you doubt you could get pregnant. Instead you smile and cast the bedcovers aside, revealing Hélène’s naked glory. Frank climbs back atop you and with careful, exacting precision guides his member inside you. You arch you back as he pushes his way inside, moaning faintly.
Frank goes very still for a second, then he starts moving, building up a rhythm as he starts driving into you. He moves almost like a machine, plunging inside you and pulling back outwards with a mechanical regularity. Each time he strikes deeply a little bit of you fractures and flakes away as if he were striking away at a dam with a demolition ball.
That greasy feeling is back in the air, almost like the way Margaret’s library used to feel. It pushes down on you, pushing you further into the bed just as Franks physical exertions do the same. There’s a pressure building up down there too, the sense of a dam ready to burst as you get into the rhythm of Frank’s motion. You can only make the slightest of movements, such is the force holding you in place: Tiny little motions that run just in time with Frank’s own thrusts.
The pressure within you builds and builds, then just as you think it’s about to burst, Frank grunts and his own movement comes to a juddering halt. You bite your lip nervously as he pulls completely out and the pressures around you recede completely.
Frank leans down and kisses you again, more softly this time. You kiss back, noticing a strange metallic taste to his mouth. Was that there before? Something to think about later. Frank snuggles in close, hugging you tight. He doesn’t say anything but sighs appreciatively. His whole demeanour seems strangely unwound and relaxed, as if some long standing burden has finally been relieved.
This is your chance, you realise. He’s unlikely to think anything of it if he fell asleep now. You dial up the power in the sigil so it will keep him knocked out till late morning. With your hand already behind him, Frank doesn’t seen anything as you bring the sigil into contact with him. He simply goes limp in your hands.
You disentangle yourself from Frank’s sleeping body. You should probably clean yourself up, so you search the floor for Frank’s abandoned shirt, slipping it on when you find it. At the same time you are reviewing the imago you’ve just captured. Frank’s going to be a, well you guess ‘combat face’ would be a good term for it. So you are stripping out everything except for the fighting related memories and skills. Hmm, you’d forgotten about the archery. You can’t think when that skill might be useful.
As you are freshening up in the bathroom you hear voices outside. Joe is back with Rosalie. You go very quiet and try to listen to them. Joe says something about checking on Frank, then a minute later you hear the words ‘sleeping like a baby’ followed by Joe’s infectious laugh. You wait until Joe and Rosalie move off before opening the bathroom door, mostly to avoid any more bad jokes.
That said, you can’t help but sneak along to outside Joe’s bedroom door and press your ear against it. You still need Joe’s face and any intelligence would help – perhaps a quick switch into Rosalie and then you could be out of the house before morning.
“…but I’ll teach you. I’ve been teaching you already haven’t I.” you can just about make out Joes voice through the door. Rosalie says something indistinct. “Well, they’d split us up,” answers Joe. “Don’t you want to spend more time together?”
“I don’t want to be hanging round Saratoga Falls too long Joe,” says Rosalie, a little louder this time. Loud enough for you to hear her now.
“Why,” asks Joe. No answer is forthcoming “Look Rosalie, I’ll ask Dad about you joining us. Just… Later, ok?”
You don’t hear Rosalie’s answer, you are far to busy picking your jaw off the floor. Does that mean Rosalie is another potential Stellae? What are the chances of finding two in a nowhere town like Saratoga Falls.
Before you can think any more about that, the door to the bedroom opens. Since you were leaning on it to better hear Joe and Rosalie, you stumble through. When you regain your footing and look up, you see Joe directly in front of you.
“Hey Prescott,” he says with a knowing grin. “How was England?”
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