Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

As the Seasons Grey	By : christinecornell Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 150 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Started life as kinky Christmas-related short stories in 2022 and took on a life of its own shortly thereafter. 100 fiction, none of this is real, and I own nothing except for the character of Christine.

Chapter List
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She could hardly shake the feeling of Eric’s hand on her arm, even as she had returned home for the day, and she knew that she would still feel him on her arm for a time. Those stubby little fingers on her skin, and the feeling of his body right next to her as they rode the bus home together with Louie and Greg. It wasn’t so much a feeling that upset her, but rather it left her wondering as to where he was going with it all. When he touched her one time, he never touched her again after that, and yet he remained there in the seat next to her with his hands down by his thighs: his fingers curled over the edge of the seat right in between her and him, and she wondered if he would do it again.
He instead walked her back to the outside of her building again, all while Greg and Louie continued on up the block to their building at the very end there. Once they were alone on the street, and Christine climbed upon the step outside the front door to her building, Eric lingered back a bit. It wasn’t until she had her key out of her pocket when she noticed that he stood back there with a pensive expression on his face.
“Is everything okay?” she asked him over the noise of the street.
“Oh, yeah. I’m just watching you go in there.”
She showed him a smile, and she made her way in through that narrow front door. It closed behind her as she made her way down the corridor to the elevator doors at the far end. As she waited for the elevator itself, she noticed the front door off to her right. That helmet of black hair had gone away, and yet a part of her wondered as to when he had left for his building up the street.
Christine stepped into the cozy little elevator and leaned into the corner. The silvery doors ground shut before her, and she sighed through her nose. Something about the elevator always bothered her to of great extent, even as a young girl living with her parents. She bowed her head, but she kept her attention fixed on the numbers over her. Lucky for her, it was only for a single floor.
She still nevertheless shuddered once the car reached the second floor, and she did not hesitate for a second as she scurried out of there and back to her apartment: the music of Jackson Browne played in the place across the hall, and Christine wondered if she could introduce Greg and Louie to her mother before very long.
She strode into her apartment, and hung her bag up on the back of the chair closest to the front door. She thought about Alex right then, and in particular the image of him being close to her at some point or another. She had to find a way to further break the ice. To break the ice…
Christine hung up her coat in her bedroom closet, and then she kicked off her shoes and peeled off her jeans. As she made her way to the bathroom for a shower, she pictured him right there with her, perched up on the counter right next to the seat, still with those glasses on his handsome face.
“You gonna dance for me?” he sweetly asked her.
“Why would I dance in the shower?” she retorted with a little chuckle. She peeled off her shirt and bore her nice smooth bra and her full breasts to him. He raised his eyebrows and lowered his head a bit to peek over the top of his glasses at her, even as she hung her shirt up on the hook next to her towel.
“Like what you see here?” she asked him as she ran her hands down her breasts, to which he nodded at her: he flashed her a wink before he nudged his glasses back up the aquiline bridge of his nose.
Christine then turned to the shower and switched on the water, and all the while, she pictured him still there right behind her as she stripped down to her nude form.
“Beautiful figure,” he remarked as she tousled her hair and climbed into the tub. She wagged her finger and then she pulled the curtain closed part of the way.
She pictured him waiting for her as she scrubbed down her hair with the fresh-smelling shampoo, and the curves of her body with that nice soft soap. She knew she would have to show him these smells when she saw him again at school. She tilted her head back and let the warm water cascade through the dark roots of her hair, to rinse away all the extraneous suds. There was something so erotic about being in water, about having water kiss the curves of her body as it washed all the way down to her ankles and her feet. The thought of being in the shower or in the bath with Alex nestled up right next to her, and the two of them could submerge under the warm surface like a couple of merfolk.
He had washed ashore right before her very eyes, and he stretched out his tail for her. She could bring him back to see if he so wished, or perhaps she could become a mermaid all for him as well.
The water, in all its warmth, in all the blanket of steam on her skin and her hair, was inviting her.
Before long, she turned around and switched off the water, and she wrung out her hair before she reached for her towel. She was still alone in the apartment as she padded across the short corridor to fetch a clean pair of panties and her hairbrush.
She swore that she heard him clear his throat on the other side of the room.
Indeed, there he was, seated in that comfy chair with her school bag still slung over the back corner, with a newspaper in hand and those glasses nestled on the crown of his head.
“Water washes away the feeling of sin and purifies, you know,” he told her as she stood still with the towel upon her head.
“You should have joined me,” she suggested.
“Maybe next time,” he vowed as he folded up the paper and lay it next to him on the arm of the chair. He put his glasses back on and showed her a mischievous smile upon sight of her naked body.
“I’m not gonna dance for you,” she scoffed with a shake of her head at him.
“Come on, you’re naked, you’re dripping wet, and you smell good,” he beseeched, and she wagged her finger at him again before she ducked back into her bedroom for her underwear and hairbrush. Christine unraveled the towel from her hair and draped it over her shoulders, and all the while, she let her hair sprawl over the top of the towel. She slipped on those soft girl boxers when she saw him there in the reflection of her mirror, arms folded over his chest and with that little smirk still plastered on his handsome oval face.
She let the towel fall off her shoulders onto the floor around her feet.
“Your hair,” he remarked. “It’s so long and beautiful.”
Christine put her hair up in a loose ponytail at the back of her head: the bottom strands tickled the bare tops of her shoulders and the halfway point of her back. She pictured him there right behind her with those spindly fingers over the backs of her hips: she had enough soft flesh there that he could not resist touching for himself.
“God, you’re so gorgeous,” he said with a smile and a nudge of his glasses up his nose yet again. She let her hair drop down onto her shoulders, and the chill of the water sent shivers down her spine.
“May I?” he offered her.
“Please, my dear merman,” she replied, and the bristles of the brush ran down the very back of her hair.
“Merman? Is that what you called me?” He chuckled at that.
“Yeah. Standing there in the shower, I pictured both you and me as merfolk. You are my merman who washed ashore.”
“And you become a mermaid, I assume?”
“I become a mermaid when faced with the choice of becoming one, or to continue a boring, pained life here on land.”
She closed her eyes, and he leaned in closer to her.
“What about… you wash ashore as a mermaid, and I become the merman for you?”
She sighed through her nose as she brought her hair up over her shoulder to better brush from the ends upward.
“I wish I could dream about you all the time,” she whispered to him.
“I want you to dream of me,” he whispered back to her. “I want to dream of you, too.”
Christine opened her eyes to find him donned in a long white coat with elbow-length gloves over the tops of his sleeves.
“Proposal, my dear Christine,” he offered her. The earth opened up around her in the form of a deep dark crater, and her legs lifted up as she eased herself into the blackness of space. The bristles of the brush streaked down her hair, which in turn fanned out from her head as long and far as they could go away from her. The rings of Saturn loomed off in the distance, and the stars twinkled all around her.
She turned her head to find Alex, surrounded by glass vials and vessels, all filled with a myriad of chemicals. He extended a hand to her, complete with the starlight all around them and the Bunsen burners lit up in a series of low flames all around the base of the floor. A scientist’s dream.
She glanced down at her legs, at the smooth milky white skin, so smooth and milky that it almost didn’t seem human.
She returned to him, the alien that she was, ready to take him home to the stars above.
“Dance with me, Alex,” she beseeched.
“Dance with me, dearest Christine,” he returned the favor. Her fingers caressed over the tips of his own, and he held himself close to her body. Her long hair spread over their bodies in a thick blanket, her very own bow shock to protect them both from all things out to destroy them. His long, shoulder-length hair seemed to sparkle against the twinkling stars in the blackest background beyond the solar system, and it took Christine a second to realize that it was stardust. He extended her out before him, and she twirled twice before she returned to him and the warmth and safety of his body. Some of the stardust embedded in his hair drifted down into her own: she glanced up above their heads to find Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune descending down over them.
He twirled her again, and she could feel her feet brush against the perfect hexagon on Saturn’s North Pole. She gave him a twirl past the Bunsen burners, and he barely brushed the fullest part of his belly against the Great Red Spot before he returned to her. Uranus and Neptune rolled behind them as they ballroom danced between the planets before they headed back toward Earth.
“I just love you, Christine,” he told her in a light voice. She held him close to her chest, to the point in which her hands stroked down the small of his back. The stars glimmered and twinkled all around them. The planets burgeoned with life. The sun shone so bright behind them, and yet nothing could deny the slightly crestfallen look upon his face. She thought about what she had said to him while at school, and she wondered if that had anything to do with it at all.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him. He closed his eyes and took off his glasses, and his hair dangled down on either side of his face. Pieces of stardust drifted down from the crown of his head, and a couple entrapped themselves in his gray streak. The blackness of space faded out to something lighter, something as gray as his hair.
“You have to help me,” he begged to her in a soft voice. “You have to help me escape.”
“Escape? Escape from what?”
He swallowed as the Bunsen burners dowsed themselves. Even the chemicals behind them lost their color before they faded out to plain water.
“Not a ‘what’,” he told her,
Christine nudged her hair back from her neck and the extra stardust faded out behind her, a handful of dying embers against the incoming sea of rain. “Escape from whom?”
He shook his head and turned away from her, still in the white lab coat, still with the gloves in his hands.
“Alex? Escape from whom?”
He returned to her as the cold rain fell upon their heads.
“My partner. She’s killing me. She is absolutely eating me alive from the inside. You have to help me get away from her. Please.”
Christine blinked her eyes several times and gazed on at her own reflection in the mirror. Back in her room with the hairbrush in hand. All a hallucination.
Her hair continued to drip wet down her back, and it was that feeling of cold water on her bare skin that gave her an epiphany. There had been moments prior to then, in which she could feel herself searching for a path, a path to purpose in life, and she wondered if this had anything to do with it. She thought about what he had said, as he was the one who desired to move out to sea with her. She wondered if he had entered her life for a reason, and the hallucination happened because his desire for help extended beyond something as trivial as a paycheck.
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As the Seasons Grey