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Blood and Chocolate	By : christinecornell Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 70 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Based on my own predilections or not, this is still a work of fiction. by the way, you will get hungry reading this. Just, just just trust me on this.

Chapter List
- 17
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“Oh, man, that was a lot. Phew.”
I resisted the urge to chuckle at him, especially since he quite literally made a little piggy of himself right then. Alex leaned back in that recliner chair and put his feet up before him, to which he set the empty plate right before him and then rested his hands on his stomach. He had three big helpings of enchiladas, filled with the sauce and everything, and I knew there was more room in that little belly of his as well.
It also didn’t help matters that the boy had kept himself there on my recliner chair with that towel wrapped around his waist, the only thing that separated me from him. To think that I had seen him indulge like this, and yet, he still remained in complete denial about all of it, given his incessant modesty and the fact that he couldn’t really put his own head around it. I may have woken him up but I still had a way to go with him and that little body of his.
I stuck in the final bite of enchilada in my mouth, and I never moved a muscle. His eyes drooped closed and he rested the back of one hand upon his forehead.
His little belly poked out from over the top edge of the towel, this cute little mound with an even cuter belly button at the center of it all, as if he was beckoning a kiss there. I was somewhat startled by the fact that he had refused a kiss there before, but I knew that he would want them at some point or another. A little kiss of dessert of sorts.
But then again, I wondered if he would want more than just a sweet little kiss good night right on his warm, full tummy. A little kiss could act as the glaze of chocolate, given where I wanted to kiss him did feel a little sinful, but there had to be something more, something to garnish it all. A hint of raspberry, perhaps.
I shook my head at the thought. I was going to make the boy puke his guts out if I gave him a hint of raspberry there. But there was something about it that tickled me, however. If I was to tickle him there, it would get me as well. If I got him there, I would be gentle and soft with him, and try to keep things in place there and ease him into it. It would all be so slow and so easy, but it would be worth it in the end, though.
We would both be happy at the end of it all.
He shifted his weight and hunched those slim, bare shoulders of his up to his ears. His black curls brushed against his shoulders and his collar bones as if he was about to nod off to sleep. The way the lamp light washed over his skin right under his belly button made me think of soft porcelain, and there was a part of me that wanted to kiss him right there in particular. That soft silken skin, in all its whiteness, more enticing than the thought of indulging in rich melted dark chocolate.
I swallowed, and then I shook my head again. I set the plate down on the coffee table before me and ran my fingers through my hair as if I was about to make a better impression on him right then.
“Alex,” I called to him in a soft voice. He lifted his head for a better look over at me: he raised his eyebrows as if he was inquiring me about something important.
I lifted a hand and gestured for him to come on over to me, albeit with one finger.
“Oh god… I don’t know if I can even so much as sit up,” he confessed.
“Try it,” I coaxed him, and I couldn’t resist the mischievous smile on my face, either.
He groaned in his throat as he lifted himself up onto his elbows: the towel stayed in place over his bare legs even as he shifted about and sat upright in the chair. The soft part of his belly gently poked out over the hem of the towel, this sweet little roll on his waist that only made his slender, gorgeous figure seem a little softer. Loose strands of his damp curls cascaded down over his shoulder onto his chest: the gray streak at the crown of his head only shone and glimmered in the golden lamp light.
I parted my lips at the sight of him, and suddenly, I needed a drink of water with me right then. He was so full, but his eyes were big and spacey, and his cherry lips carried a slight pout to them. It was as if he really wanted it despite the big feeling inside of him right then. He showed me the tip of his tongue, and then he nudged his curls back over his shoulder: the lamp light washed over him like the afterglow of the setting sun.
I swallowed yet again, even with the parched dry feeling in my throat. I set my hand on the couch cushion right next to me.
“Come here,” I coaxed him.
Alex rested a hand right on his stomach to steady himself, and he stood to his feet. Even with his body, his still very slim and slender body, I could see the beautiful curve of his belly accentuated by the shape of his hips and the towel still around his hips. His black curls dangled back over his left shoulder.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” I blurted out.
“I sure don’t feel that way,” he confessed as he ran his free hand down the shape of his little belly onto his hip. Very slowly, he stepped over to me: even his feet were lovely, in all their bony thinness.
“Come here,” I whispered to him.
“I am.”
“No. Lay with me. Lay down with me.” I scooted back to the corner of the couch to make room for him. Swallowing, he clutched at himself: the way that he had such a gentle little curve around his waist made me want to kiss him there even more. He held onto the towel with one hand as he sat down in the middle cushion of the couch and then leaned back. He extended his long legs out before him as he lay down right before me, a feast for my own eyes and fingertips. I adjusted the pillow under his head, and I got to touch his long beautiful black curls as well, all of them still rather wet from his shower earlier. He lay down and it was a tight fit for me in particular.
“Oh, I see.” He kept the top of his head right before the arm of the couch, right upon the pillow, and he rested his hands on his waist, as if he was keeping in the pressure within him. I showed him a little smile, and I knew what to do.
“God… such a full tummy.” I ran the tip of my finger down from the base of his chest, right over that silky skin to his belly button, but he stopped me with his arms pressed to his middle. He stopped me before I could even so much as reach the halfway point there. I leaned in closer to his face to give him a kiss and it was difficult given the tight fit between us from that couch. He shifted his weight and covered up his whole belly with his forearms. I figured it would be for the best if I lay down next to him as well. I slid down in between him and the couch cushions, and I rolled over a bit onto my side to keep myself steady there next to him. I set a hand on the side of his face and puckered my lips at him.
“Come… here…”
He hooded those deep eyes at me, and I moved in for the kiss, complete with my eyes closed. He tasted like pepper and cheese, but I didn’t mind in the least. His skin was soft and creamy under my hand, and his lips felt so smooth to the touch. I held back and gazed into those big eyes.
I could feel something right between us. It was there. It was there with him, and it was there with me.
I could feel it.
The boy was growing plump and it was only a matter of time before he became ripe as well. He had been filled with lush, decadent fruit as well as my own cooking: he was on his way there. I leaned into his head again, that time for a kiss on the neck to amp things up a bit.
He clasped his hands to his belly as if to steady himself. He barely had a tummy, but he was acting as if he was bigger than me. He parted his lips and breathed out a shuddered groan to me, especially when I rested my hand on his left hip. His skin there felt like a cat’s fur, or the softest bedsheet ever. How I wanted to kiss every inch of his body right then.
“Eric, please,” he groaned out. “I’m too full. My belly is too full for this.”
I kissed his neck and cracked him a little smile.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I promised him. “And it’s nothing that you can’t handle, either.”
He swallowed and parted his lips at me again, as if he was about to coax me in for another sweet little kiss. I gave it to him on the side of his neck, and he jerked his head away from me.
“I can’t kiss you?” I teased him.
“Please be gentle. I feel like I have one of those seedless watermelons in my belly right now.”
I stroked my finger down his chest again, albeit a brief little swipe.
“I’ll be as soft and sweet as you want,” I vowed.
I rolled part of the way over onto his chest, and I ran my fingers through the coarse roots of his black curls at the back of his head. I kissed the side of that sleek neck, from the base of his jaw all the way down to his collar bone. His skin there felt so impossibly soft and delicate. In fact, his whole body was delicate right then: he had eaten too much and now he needed to be handled with care like precious porcelain straight out of the kiln. I moved my head down to the top of his chest, to the small, fine sprigs of silvery hair at the very top: though the hair was fine and smooth like nylon, the feeling made me knit my knees together. He groaned from the feeling, or maybe it was still the feeling inside of his little belly, his cute little belly.
He groaned again as I moved my mouth down onto his chest, and I reached the very base when I looked up at him.
“Can I kiss your belly?” I asked him in a near whisper.
“It’s gonna tickle, though,” he pointed out.
“You’ll feel better, I promise. It’ll probably ease things better in here than rubbing your skin.”
He shifted his weight and swallowed, and then he lifted his head a bit to see me there.
“As long as I get to watch,” he insisted.
“Watch me,” I commanded. I brought my head down to the top of his belly for a gentle kiss. The full feeling inside of him softened his flesh even more than before: the feeling of his skin under my lips was on the verge of driving me insane almost immediately. It was both the feeling of softness as well as the warmth that radiated from him that had me in a hold. My lips grazed over the warmest part of his belly, right over his belly button, and I lifted my head to touch him there with my fingertips. I moved my fingers in little circles there to ease the feeling as well as get him to feel what I was feeling.
His groans turned into gentle whimpers, and I knew I was doing something right by him. I moved my lips onto his belly button, that soft tender scar tissue that only seemed all the more delicate from the feeling inside of him. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something about his towel, in particular the way that he kept it over his legs, as if there was an extra fold right over his thigh that I wasn’t aware of from before.
It took me a second to realize that it wasn’t a fold.
I ran the tip of my finger around the rim of his belly button before I moved in closer to his head again.
“I want to kiss every inch of you,” I whispered right into his ear.
He rolled his head over for a sleepy look at me.
“I really, really want to kiss every inch of you and your beautiful body,” I repeated.
“And I want to kiss every inch of you,” he blurted out to me in a husky whisper. I leaned into the side of his neck again, to which he treated me to a gentle moan from the back of his throat.
“We should take our revenge out on John,” I suggested right into his ear.
“We?”
“Yes. ‘We.’”
“Okay. What do you suggest?”
“Maybe you and I could seduce him with a nice big fat Bacchanalian feast of sorts,” I said. “Or an eating contest.”
“I’ll take the feast,” he quipped. “I can’t see myself really participating in something as extravagant as an eating contest.”
I licked my lips and reached down to the hem of the towel and that extra fold. I nudged the top back and sure enough, my hunches were right: not a fold at all.
“You’ll take the feast?” I asked him as my fingers curled around his shaft to prepare for the flick of the hand.
“Yeah.”
My index and middle fingers caressed up that silken skin to the tip: belly touches of any kind led to that, and that was a fact. My thumb held steady near the tip. Alex opened his eyes and gazed up at me, delirious, as if he was one more helping of enchiladas and accompanying blow job away from a sheer food coma.
“You know what’s interesting?” I asked him.
“What’s that?”
“The fact that you’re kind of a feast for me as well,” I whispered as I stuck the tip of my finger into the hole at the tip. He gasped from the feeling, and his eyes opened wide for a moment before they closed again. Full tummy and a titillating feeling below the equator, how could he lose?
I could feel something liquid on my fingertip and I knew I had done him justice. The question now was would I have to tell Lou about it, as well as our plan to take our revenge on John.
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Blood and Chocolate