Franc 2 A New Game
- 3 years ago
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Franc 1: No Geek Policy free porn video
“The Federal Reserve?”
“Uh huh. I specialize in currency exchange policy.”
“Is that a fact?” I’m going to need a whole lot more beer if I’m going to have to listen to this for the rest of the night. She drones on like I could actually care about what she does for a living. Like anybody gives a shit about coin collecting or whatever.
I look out at the dance floor. My buddy and her sister are practically doing it in public. ‘Oh, he so owes me for this,’ I think. I admit it; I’m taking one for the team tonight. He wanted the hot sister and needed someone to occupy the other one. I saw her picture and thought well, she’s kinda cute, so what the hell? Better than staying home and watching the Wizards lose again.
No one mentioned the dinner-plate-size glasses she wasn’t wearing in the picture. No one mentioned that she’s a total card-carrying geek, fer-criss-sake. The works: math wiz, Star Trek fan. The kind that spend Friday nights in basements playing dice games with elves. I didn’t know black chicks even did that kind of stuff. If I had known that, I’d have said ‘no.’ Flat No. I don’t care how cute she is, I have a strict No-Geek policy.
Over dinner, she explained in excruciating detail the difference between Kirk and Picard as captains. Now, while everybody else in the place is movin’ to the groovin’, she’s giving me some dissertation on coins.
“ ... like the new quarters, for instance,” she says.
“What about them?” I have no idea what she’s talking about but then I didn’t understand about half of what she said when I was listening.
“Well, where were they minted?”
“Uh, it matters?” I must have missed something.
“Well, see that depends on the collector. If you just want all 50 states, then no, not really. But I have a friend in Arvada, Colorado, and it’s hard for him because he started his collection here so they’re all the Philadelphia mint. But out there, all his coins are from the Denver mint. You can tell because the face has a little ‘P’ or ‘D’ stamped on it. See?” She holds a coin out to me.
“Oh, yeah. Mail ‘em.”
She nods vigorously, “That’s what we do! I send him Phillys and he sends me Denvers. I have another friend in...” She keeps going so I guess I said the right thing. I look at the dance floor again. My buddy and the sister are nowhere to be seen. Great.
“I think we got ditched,” I say, cutting over whatever she was saying.
“What?”
“Where’d your sister go?”
She looks around. “Oh.” She smiles wanly at me. “Sorry. She does this all the time. I know she’s the hot one. She always tries this and it never works out. What do I owe you for dinner?”
It’s sad. I can’t see her figure under the Velma-from-Scooby Doo-sweater she’s wearing, but she’s not bad looking, aside from the glasses. She just needs to stick to her own geek-ish kind. I’m not a complete prick, I guess. “Look, dinner’s on me.”
“Really?” She squeals the ‘ly’ part. It’s sort of innocent. Cute. “I don’t mind. I always pay half.”
“Next time,” I say waving the waiter over.
She laughs, “Right. Next time.” She knows, just like I do, there is no chance of a ‘next time.’
We get outside and she heads over to the bus stop. I check my watch; it’s 2:15am. Yeah, I’m a prick; sure, I’m gonna let her wait for a bus at this hour.
I start to call out to her then realize I have no clue what her name is. I walk over. “Hey, uh, what is your name, anyway?”
“Franc?” She says with that tone like she answered that a couple times before.
“Right.” I remember, she has. “Spelled like the currency.”
“Yeah.”
“Right, Franc. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”
“Really?” She squeaks again.
“Yeah. No problem.”
She gives me this big, bright, cheesy grin. “Thanks.” She starts digging in her purse as we walk to my car. “I’ve got gas money in here somewhere.”
She seems determined to contribute so I just accept it. “Thanks. Where to?” She tells me her address. It’s not too far out of my way, so it’s not a big deal. She doesn’t say much in the car, which is a relief after the long-winded garbage she’s come up with so far.
Just the same, when we pull up to her building, she gives me that silly grin of hers.
“You’ve been really cool.”
“You’re a nice kid,” I say. It’s true. If I hadn’t wanted to slit my wrist during the ‘Picard as borg’ discussion, I’d be all over her by now. But, like I said, no geeks – ever.
She blushes. I haven’t known a chick who blushed since junior high school. It’s kinda cute. “Listen, um I don’t usually, you know.”
I don’t want to hear the ‘I’m saving myself’ speech. “Hey, I don’t want anything. Dinner was great. You paid for gas. We’re even.”
She laughs again. “No. Drive down that alley. There’s a parking lot around back.”
The geek puts out? OK, just this once, this could work.
She points out a nice dark parking space. Two minutes after the car’s in park, my dick’s in her mouth and I don’t have to say or do a thing. She just whips it out and sucks it in. Her mouth is wet and warm and I groan as she bobs up and down. She’s pretty good, too, like she knows what she’s doing. I’m always slow with blowjobs so a lot of chicks give up just because they get tired. But her thick lips are wrapped so tight around me I feel like I’m in her cunt. I pop in her mouth much sooner than usual, swearing like a sailor. She swallows, wipes her lips on a napkin from the glove box and says good night. Then she gets out of the car and that’s it.
That’s it.
I drive home. I can still feel her lips on my dick. I can still feel them the next morning on my way to work. And while sitting at my desk while making my morning sales calls. Finally, at lunch, I go find my buddy and bust his chops about ditching me with ‘geek girl.’ Then I harass him for the sister’s phone number. I go back to my desk and call her.
“Hi, I don’t know if you remember me but we met last night and your sister left her, uh...”- I try to think of anything she might have dropped - “her, uh, I don’t know, some damn Trek thing. Uh, anyway, if you could have her call me, I’d appreciate it.” I leave my number and hope that didn’t sound as lame as it felt.
Just before I leave for the day, my voice mail light goes on. I check and it’s from the sister. Call Franc at work. I can’t believe I’m gonna ask her out. Well, not on a date – no dinner, just sex; I can’t listen to another evening of quarters and space ships.
I call her.
“Franchesca Baker.”
“Franc?”
“Yes?”
“Bobby.” She doesn’t respond. “From last night.” I can hear noise on the other end but it’s not her. “I gave you a lift home.”
“Yeah, I remember. I don’t need a flashback.” She doesn’t sound happy to hear from me. “What do you want?”
I think I’ve made a strategic error, but it’s too late now. “I wanted to see what you were doing tonight.”
“Some friends of mine are coming over to watch season one of the new Doctor Who series. I got the DVDs last week.”
Oh crap! Kill me now! “Room for one more?” I pray she’ll say no like any sensible woman.
“Really?” Little things excite this chick.
“Yeah, sure.” Was that blowjob worth this? “I mean, if it’s a bad night, we could get together another time...”
“No, tonight’s great!” She hesitates. “You really want to come over?”
“I really want to come over.” I really don’t want to watch science-fiction crap, but I really want to come over.
“‘Cause I kinda got the feeling that, you know, you weren’t into the whole Sci-Fi thing.”
“Can’t I just want to see you again?”
“Oh, yeah!” She laughs in disbelief at that, which is understandable. “Everybody will be at my place around 7 o’clock. If you want to come by, you can park in the back again.” She hangs up.
No coy bullshit. No lies. She’s different than most of the woman I date who are either prowling for husbands or prowling for free meals. She’s direct. Honest. Kinda cute.
I grab flowers. I don’t know why, but the gas station had those cheap bouquets by the register and I just impulsively got one. When the cashier gives me the change, I have to wait while she opens a new roll of quarters. She gives me three of them – all shiny newly minted states. The thought occurs to me and I look closely at the coins. I smile at her. “Philly, not Denver. It could make a difference.”
The cashier looks at me like I’m crazy – which I might be if I’m actually remembering coin-collecting shit. I get to Franc’s place around 6pm which I figure gives me plenty of time to get in, hit it and get out before the dweebs arrive.
I should have known better.
Six of them beat me there. I should have just turned around and left, but I didn’t want to look like the total prick I am. I give her the flowers anyway ‘cause I’d look like a jackass if I didn’t. They’re eating pizza and playing some game on graph paper. “What’s all this?” I ask – mostly because I’m too stupid to keep my damn mouth shut.
“BattleTech,” Franc says between bites. “You can play my tank commander, if you’d like. I’m just about to lead my mercenaries against Phil’s.”
“You’ll be on the losing side,” says a tall, thin, red-haired guy with tape – actual tape – on his glasses.
“Oh, yeah?” Franc sounds pretty confident as she hands me a piece of paper. “Take a look at this.” She leans in and whispers, “I have a fully functional Phoenix Hawk and a ComStar HPG they don’t know about.” I read the Wall Street Journal stock page daily but I have no idea what the hell the columns of numbers she hands me mean. The page has the drawing of a robot with a lot of abbreviations and fractions next to the body parts. I turn it upside down – as a joke – and nod. Then I hand it back.
“Oh, yeah. Impressive.”
They all stare at me, horrified.
“You are such a bad liar,” the fat one says – why is there always a fat one? I’m saved by the phone. Franc answers it then after a minute’s conversation announces that “Joe” has arrived with the beer. I send mental blessings upon Saint Joe.
Phil taps my shoulder. “Hey, new guy.” You’ve seen Phil; look up ‘nerd’ in the dictionary. “Joe’s her ex-boyfriend.”
I wanna ask nerdling why I would care, but it’s got to be pretty obvious even to this group why I’m here.
Joe arrives and doesn’t even notice me, just hands Franc the beers, opens his backpack and pulls out a beat-up notebook and a bag of dice.
I go into the kitchen and grab part of Joe’s stash. Franc looks at me with her head tilted.
“Why are you here?”
I shrug. To be honest, at this point, I don’t know. She is damn cute when she takes off the glasses. I remember those lips. Right. That’s why. “I guess to learn this tank thing.”
She shakes her head and shrugs. Then she starts talking. “OK. Everybody is a mechwarrior. Basically, you drive a 35-foot tall, like 50-ton robot. For tonight, you’re going to play my tank commander, Montgomery Pythonidea. We can roll up your own character later. You have strength and weapons stats on that paper. The object is to complete our contract in the most cost-effective manner. You’ve got a total of seven tanks with SRMs and LRMs and one 9-volley ATM. You’re low on ammo, but I’ve got two 100ton assault mechs who are going in first, so you should be cool.” That’s the last thing I get clearly; the rest of it is statistics about heat jumps or jet armor or sinking some damn thing.
OK, I admit it – once I figure out what the hell was going on, the tank thing is pretty fun. Franc’s pretty good at strategy so our team won and I got to blow up Joe and Phil which was pretty damn entertaining. By the time the group wants to watch the DVDs, though, I’ve had as much of robots and dice as I can take in any one night.
Franc sees me to the door.
“Seriously,” she asks again, “why did you come here tonight?”
The quarters are in the same pocket as my keys. I pull two out and hand them to her. “One for you, one for your friend.”
She bites her lip and blushes. Damn, she’s cute. Then she leans up on tiptoe and kisses me. She nearly sucks my fillings out as her tongue wrestles with mine. My dick begs for a little attention from those lips but it’s not gonna happen tonight.
“Thanks for coming over,” she whispers. She starts to say more, but the opening theme starts and I see her look over her shoulder.
“Go watch,” I laugh. “I’ll call you.” As I get in my car, realize that I meant that. I want to call when I get home, but the number’s at my office. I give my right arm a good work-out thinking about those lips.
Next day I wait ‘til after lunch to call because, well, just because.
“Franchesca Baker.”
“Hi!”
“Yes?”
“It’s Bobby.” She doesn’t respond. “From the last two nights.” Maybe she can’t hear me.
“I know who you are. Yeah?”
I wait for a minute but she doesn’t say anything else. “Uh, OK. Uh, do you want to go to dinner tonight?” I didn’t mean to ask that; force of habit, I guess. OK, dinner, then sex.
“Can’t. Sorry.”
“Look, am I bothering you?” Maybe she’s just shy at the office.
“No.”
“OK.” See, this is why I have a no-geek policy; they’re weird.
She’s silent for a couple minutes. Then, “Thursday or Monday. I’m at RoboCon all weekend.”
“OK. How about I pick you up after work on Thursday?”
“OK.” Then she hangs up.
I count to 10 before I call back and ask where I should pick her up. I can’t figure this girl out. Ask her about elves and she’ll talk your ear off; ask her to dinner, and it’s one-word answers. I resolve that this dinner is it – either I hit it Thursday night or I move on to a less-geek, more-normal girl. She’s not that cute. No blowjob is worth all this.
It couldn’t be.
Still when she talks, she’s ... I don’t know. I can almost listen to all that geek garbage. She’s so into it. And, I gotta admit, she’s damn smart. She was calculating ammo usage in her head for herself and for me. And she knows all kinds of history, politics, even some sports stuff. If I could only get her to wear a dress, she might even clean up pretty good. Of course, all I want here is the sex. I’m not into her or anything.
I have a strict no-geek policy.
Thursday, I leave the office early. I’m not in a rush, I just don’t want to be rude and keep Franc waiting. I pull up in front of her office building and watch the people for a while. I’ve got NPR on the radio which is as close to culture as I get.
I like watching people. Every so often, you see someone worth looking at. Franc’s building has a couple. I see a few nice-looking short skirts; an inappropriately low top or two. Then Franc walks out in an outfit that would have made my grandmother proud. The wool jacket is too big and looks like a barrel and the calf-length skirt makes it impossible to see if she has decent legs or not. I’m done. No blowjob could be worth this. Must have been my imagination. She gets in the car.
“Hi.” She kisses me. It’s like she’s never been kissed before and has been saving it all up for me. I think I feel a couple stitches pop in my pants. Then she sits down and starts telling me about something but I can’t follow it because I’m still reeling from that kiss.
What the hell was that? I start to drive off but the car next to me honks loudly. I wait till traffic’s actually clear before I pull out and try to drive to the restaurant. She hasn’t stopped talking yet.
“Franc?”
She keeps talking, ignoring me.
“Franc?” I tapped her leg. “Hey.”
“Oh! Sorry! Yeah?”
“What the hell was that?”
“What was what?”
“That kiss?” I’m trying to look at her and drive at the same time. “What was that?”
“Oh.” She looks confused. “Sorry. I thought...” She shrugs. “Right. Stupid me.”
Her cell phone rings before I can ask what she’s talking about and she answers it. I don’t know what the subject is because she gives the same one-word answers she gives me on the phone. When she hangs up, she sighs. “I gotta go.”
“What?”
“Jill forgot the costumes for the convention. I’ve got to go get them and deliver them tonight.”
“She forgot ‘em, she can go get them.”
“She doesn’t have a car.”
“What about our dinner?”
She looks at me with that tilted look. “Did you really want to take me out?”
“Why else would I be here?” I know was planning ‘no dinner, just sex,’ but I didn’t want her to know that.
“Because I...” she kind of shifts around nervously, “you know.” OK, so is she bright enough to guess that one.
“Oh.” I don’t say anything for a minute. Then, I gotta know, “Why did you do that, anyway?”
“Because you were really nice and you didn’t, you know, try anything.” She looks away and blushes. “I know most guys really want my sister, not me. I felt kinda sorry for you.”
She felt sorry for me. How sweet is that? “You didn’t have to do that you know.”
“I know.” She blushes even darker. “But I kinda wanted to.”
I remember those lips. My dick lurches.
“OK, I’ll take you to dinner, then we’ll go pick up your costume shit.” Then I’ll screw her.
“Really?” It has that cute happy lilt. Maybe I will get lucky tonight after all.
“Really.”
At dinner, she finally asks me what I do for a living. We talk about me for a while, my hobbies and family. She listens with a rapt attention and follows every detail. It was like my life is a new set of game rules for her to memorize. It’s after eight when I finally flagged down the waiter. I won’t let her pay for this meal either – just to hear that ‘really?’
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