Chapter #39The Bonds That Tie by: Seuzz   "Fuck her, Straussler," your alter ego says. "Then get a copy of her into that mask of yours."
You stare at him. "And we want a copy of her because--?"
"Use your imagination. Or Straussler's imagination, if you're an idiot."
You'd rather he said it out loud. On second thought, you'd rather he didn't. Even if he doesn't want to replace her with a golem, he'll want a copy he can have fun with.
A few feet away, you hear a toilet flush. Time to decide is running out.
Frank gets to his feet, but says nothing as the bathroom door opens. "Where are we going to?" Monique asks brightly. It won't be McDonald's. Anyone who has ever had Straussler pay for a meal knows that much.
"Frank just got a call, and he has to take off," you say. You don't want this guy being angry, so it seems best to go along with this suggestion.
"My stupid brother," Frank mutters. "He asked Dad for help, and Dad told him to ask me, so now my ass is hanging on his grade." He puts out his hand. "See you later."
"Tomorrow, maybe?" you say. "You, me, Kyle and Jenny? They worry about you, think you should--" You take Monique's hand and peer down at her. "What do you think, Monique? Who'd look good with Frank's arm around her?"
"I don't know," she murmurs.
"We'll surprise you with someone," you tell Frank.
He looks a little discomfited. "You don't have to--"
"We wouldn't set you up, don't worry. But if we've got another girl along--"
He shrugs, and with a "Later" and a curt wave goes out the door.
You look down at Monique, to find her looking back up at you with a worried frown. "What's that look for?" you ask.
"You guys can be such jerks," she says. "If Frank doesn't want--"
"He wants, Monique. Every guy wants--"
"It's not a competition. It's not like basketball."
"Who said it was?"
She gives you a look. "He doesn't want to compete with his brother, Jonathan."
"What's Joe got to do with--?"
"He doesn't want it to look like he's competing with Joe, trying to-- to score with--" She stumbles over the crude phraseology.
You grin at her discomfort. "Oh, you had to say the magic word, didn't you? Score," you explain when she frowns. You catch up her hands. "Suddenly I'm not hungry. Well, not for food."
She jerks her hands away. "Jonathan, you're being so--"
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be. Frank likes to play rough, and sometimes I forget. But tell me you're not mad at me?" You duck your head.
"I'm not mad at you," she sighs.
"Tell me I'm sweet?" You put light hands on her waist.
She blushes and smiles and looks away. "You're sweet, Jonathan."
You draw her close, and bend to kiss the top of her head. "No, I'm not. I'm a big, stinky boy, and I don't know why you put up with me."
"I don't know either," she says, and pulls you close. "I just really do--" She buries her face in your chest.
You squeeze her gently in one arm, and lightly brush her back and shoulders with your fingertips. She is so small, and tender, and vulnerable. Except she's got a spike of steel in her, and Jonathan has tripped over it many times. Always gotten up with a grin, though. Before she can pull away, you crouch at the knees and scoop her up, holding her under the ass with a strong arm. She gasps as you raise her face to yours. "We'll go get something to eat," you say. "But can we nibble on something first?" She blushes, but suffers to let you bite her lips. And then she's biting you back, and then the kisses become soft and wet. You stagger back onto the sofa, letting her fall into your lap. You hold each other close, kissing and kissing and kissing ...
* * * * *
"Oh, God, Jonathan, what's gotten into you?" Monique gasps.
She's stripped down to her cotton panties and is lying on your bed. You're also stripped to your underwear; your cock is pointing straight out through the front. But you're huddled next her, one arm under her shoulders, the other under the knee of one of her raised legs. You crouch over her, kissing her hip and the side of her tummy. Devouring them, more like.
"I don't know," you murmur back breathlessly. "But lately I just can't stop thinking about you." You kiss and suck at her. "It's all I want to do. I think I really, really--"
You straighten up as you realize how feverish you sound, and look over at her. She's raised her head, and her expression is more than a little alarmed.
"Oh, I don't know," you say, and climb onto the bed to lay next her, your head propped under a hand. You trace a finger over and under her exposed breasts. "I'm trying not to be obsessive over you. Trying not to keep calling you. Giving you distance and stuff. I mean-- Oh, God!" You fall back and cover your eyes with an arm. "I'm a senior and you're a freshman. What are we doing?"
It is an odd situation. You--Jonathan--can't help suspecting that Monique's parents allow this relationship because Jonathan seems a decent sort, but mostly because the Strausslers' wealth runs well over ten figures: "The Beast" owns a high-tech defense company with close links to the university and to the military research station just outside of town. Jonathan's parents probably allow it because they think people of their class are entitled to anything they want.
"I know you're going to go off to college next year," Monique says in a small voice.
"I want you to go with me," you say, swinging back toward her.
"I have to finish school!" she says.
"Let me take care of you! Or--" Your breath comes in hard gasps as you yank your underwear fully off. "We have to make the most of it. Now." With a knee, you pry open her legs.
She bites her lip, and her eyes grow wet. "Okay, Jonathan," she says in a small voice. You yank open the bedside stand and pull out a condom, putting it to your mouth so you can tear the wrapper open with your teeth. She swallows. "I mean, if you want to do it, without--" Her eyes roll with fear. "I guess it would be okay."
You stare at her, then bury your face in her neck, kissing at her hard. You prop yourself on an elbow, and with your free hand guide your member toward her, and then into her.
It's all perfectly safe, and she's nothing to worry about. Jonathan Straussler is just a full-body condom for Will Prescott. You spend yourself in her twice, leaving her limp and docile on the bed before you go to the closet with the excuse of getting dressed. Her eyes are closed when you return, and she doesn't even see you open the container to take out the powder.
Afterward, you take her to the most expensive restaurant in town for lunch. She's very quiet throughout, and just squeezes your hand under the table as you eat.
* * * * *
It's early evening, and Monique has left and you're finishing up Straussler's homework when the call comes from the security office: Joe Durras is on his way in. You don't want to be unfriendly, but you also don't want to have to make the long trek out to meet him. Besides, he knows where to find you.
Ten minutes later he raps on the door and enters at your shout. He strokes his chin and raises an enquiring eyebrow. "Yeah, I got her," you say.
"Cool. Can I see?"
You sigh and flick your fingers across your face. The room swells; your shoes fall off, and all your clothes settle around you. "Hi Joe," you dimple softly. "I missed you this afternoon. Your brother's cute, but--"
"But he's an asshole, yeah," Joe snickers. "I heard he was badmouthing me up here this morning. Pfft. Everyone knows a train doing sixty could cover a coupla hundred miles in an hour."
"Is that what you're gonna say on your homework?"
"It's what you're going to say," he retorts.
Your face falls a little. "Am I going back home as you tonight?"
"Nah." He falls onto the sofa next to you and picks up a game controller. "You can stick it out until Sunday night. Oh, Frank called. He said he made the pitch to some old woman up in Cuthbert about bringing someone back to study with him."
"I hope he's back by Monday morning."
"You can go in for him if he's not. I can skip." He looks over at you, his eyes traveling up and down Monique's small frame. "You look very cute." He drops the controller and puts a tentative hand behind your shoulder. "Very inviting." He plucks at the folds of your shirt.
"Are you coming on to me, Joe?"
"I sure am. We're friends, aren't we? More than friends, right? You were asking me earlier if I'd like to make out with myself."
"You want me to--"
You raise your hand to your face, but he grabs your wrist firmly. "No, you stay like that. I'll put on any face you want, though. Even Melody or Blackwell, if that's your thing."
You stare back, expecting the explosive laugh that will defuse the joke. But his eyes are hungry. "Are you really serious?" you quietly ask.
He shrugs. "We could call it a bonding exercise. You know, these anima bands make us basically the same person, but there's still old habits. Ol' Joe here has a long history with Frank, and it's hard to resist that, well, tug of loyalty, even when I'm wearing a different face. You and I could form a bond of another kind."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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