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 simply could not stop thinking about it all day, especially when Alex kept on looking over at her during that entire class period. Every single time, he would part his lips ever so slightly, a ripe little cherry sprouted forth from the blossom under the light spring rains that beckoned for a gentle kiss from her. The cherry on top of the sundae, all for her. A soft blush spread over his face like the warm fuzz upon the face of a plump ripe peach at one point, and Christine resisted the urge to say something to either him or Colette right behind her.
He ran his fingers through his dark hair and then gave his head a little shake: a few tendrils of hair sprawled over his face as if to blanket him from their eyes watching him.
She lowered her gaze to her binder down before her, and she lifted her pencil for a small doodle in the corner of the paper there.
Christine wanted it with him, the feeling of his nude body against her own. She wasn’t much of an illustrator but she wanted to at the very least visualize it and bring it to life by the swipe of her own pencil strokes.
Eric coughed, but she swore that she heard a little something in there as well, as if he was cracking something under his breath to either her or Alex, but she never moved her pencil away from the paper’s surface.
“I should probably tell you guys,” Alex started with a break in his voice, and he cleared his throat. “I have my own jazz trio, and we’re playing a show up in the West Village on Friday night, seven o’clock. We’re going to be playing in a bar, so if any of you are under twenty-one, I’m sorry to say that you’ll have to overhear everything from outside the venue.” Everyone in the room chuckled at that. “Otherwise, you’re all invited if you’d like to see some live music going into the weekend and into Veteran’s Day, no less.”
Eric shot up his hand.
“Yes?” Alex acknowledged him.
“Is it B.Y.O.B.?” he asked with a straight face, and Alex let out a big loud belly laugh, complete with a single clap of his hands.
“Is it B.Y.O.B.? I don’t think it is.” He chuckled again. “You thinking of drinking under the table?”
Eric shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe my buddies might, I dunno.”
Colette and Sabrina giggled at that; meanwhile, Christine closed her binder and put it back into her book bag. Since she wore a little low cut white long-sleeved shirt, she made sure that her coat hung open enough as she bent down for it. She knew that Eric and Alex both would be looking at her.
When she sat upright, Alex turned away a bit and towards the desk with a pink tinge to his face. Eric returned to her and snorted as if she had cracked a joke to him.
“What?” she innocently asked him, and he shook his head.
“I’ll tell you later,” he promised to her.
“Does this have to do with my top being low cut?” she asked him, and she couldn’t resist the smirk on her face.
“Maybe,” he quipped, still with a straight face. “Could also be something else.”
Christine nodded towards Alex, who had turned around all the way once again and looked on at the two of them, perplexed.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded.
“Hot stuff,” Christine replied without a second thought.
“Boobs and booze,” Marlene chimed in.
“Boobs, booze, and—boys,” Eric sputtered out, and a few people in the room laughed at that.
“And boys!” Alex proclaimed. “We going into a bad girl’s world, eh, Sluggo?”
“Not if the bad girls can help it,” Christine interjected before anyone else could, and Sabrina and Marlene both clapped their hands.
“Christine—Christine—” She turned around to find Colette and Valentina with their hands extended to her for a high five. She obliged, and Alex chuckled some more.
“Boys want a peep show,” Eric joked.
“People in hell want ice water,” Christine retorted, and several people behind her jeered at that. She turned around again for another round of high fives from Colette and Valentina, and also Sabrina.
“Okay, uh… switching gears now,” Alex stammered, albeit with a clearing of his throat and another rouse of chuckling, “seeing as we’re out of time right now… yeah.” A few people, including the four girls behind Christine and Eric, all let out low groans of disappointment. “Out of time, so no further discussion on boobs, booze, boys, and bad girls flashing their boobs in here.”
“Could we have homework on it?” Valentina asked him.
“Yes!” Alex replied without hesitation. “Yes, you may. Make love to your instruments, ladies and gentlemen.”
Christine chuckled at that as she stood up, and slung her book bag over her shoulder, and closed her green coat.
“That was awesome,” Eric remarked to her as they walked out of the classroom together. “Where did that come from?”
“I’m not too sure, to be honest,” she confessed with a slight smile. “It just sort of—happened.”
When they were out in the hallway together, she felt a tap on the shoulder, and she turned to find Colette right there behind her.
“So,” she began with a smirk on her face.
“So?”
“So what,” Eric followed up, and the two of them laughed at that as he walked ahead of them to his next period. Christine then returned to Colette and the twinkle in her eye.
“You promised you’d tell me later,” she recalled in a singsong voice.
Christine thought about Nelly and her suspicions about those four girls behind her, and she kept it shelved in the back of her mind. She sighed through her nose as she knew that she was about to betray Nelly’s trust, especially when she knew that she had stretched the truth about Alex to her mother.
“Okay,” she began. “But you better promise me not to tell anyone because there’s a really stupid rumor going around about me and him that’s totally bogus.”
“Tell no one, not even Marlene, Val, or Sabrina?” Colette raised her eyebrows at her.
“Nope. Well, I mean, it’s just you and me here—we may as well keep it between us.”
She pinched her fingers together at the corner of her mouth and made a little twisting motion as if to seal her lips closed.
“Go ahead,” she coaxed her.
Christine paused for a second.
“I kind of…” She stopped in her tracks.
“Yes?”
“…slept with him.”
Colette then stopped in her tracks.
“Slept with whom? With—Alex?”
Christine nibbled on her bottom lip, to which Colette gasped, and she reached over for a playful slap of her shoulder.
“Christine! You red hot mama! You little vixen!”
“Shhh!” Christine waved at her to stop, but Colette kept her tongue out like a dirty dog. Christine huddled in closer to her to the point she could smell her perfume on her neck. “I gave him a handjob and he kissed my nipples.”
“Holy shit,” Colette gasped again, and she brought a hand up to her mouth. “What was it like?”
“Amazing,” Christine said. “Though I feel like he and I could go a little further than that, though.”
“I can tell you this right now that you could go further than that,” Colette told her with a slight snicker, and then she stopped. “Oh, man, you should totally go to his jazz show on Friday.”
“I plan to,” Christine assured her with her hands on her hips.
“Do you have anything sexy to wear for that night?” Colette asked her.
“Anything sexy? Aside from my camisoles, not really.”
“You should at least doll up nice for that old boy, Chris. You could meet up with the four of us at some point over the week and we’ll help you.”
“You girls ought to go by your nicknames because I worry about confusing you with Valentina and Sabrina,” Christine suggested.
“Val’s Bloody Mary and Sabrina’s Lady Bird,” Colette told her. “I shit you the fuck not, Alex referred to me as ‘Call Girl’ the other day.”
Christine gaped at her and felt her face grow warm.
“‘Call Girl’?”
“Yeah. According to him, it just slipped out. Were you there that day?”
“I think I was hitching a ride with Eric that day,” Christine recalled. “We got stuck in traffic.”
“Oh, man. But yeah, he called me that and I literally cannot stop thinking about him now. And now I’m learning the quiet girl actually got all tongues and tails with him.”
“You bet your ass we got tongues and tails,” Christine giggled. “And I could talk more but I have to go to ceramics.”
“I have to go to my German literature class,” Colette told her with a glimpse at her wristwatch, and it was right then Christine remembered Alex telling her about his experience in Irish literature, and she was eager to see him again for lunch that afternoon.
Nelly was busy behind the counter, but Christine wanted her full attention on Alex there next to her there at the bar on the far side of the room. He once again had his phone out before him so as to not be distracted by a mysterious woman on the little screen.
“Been meaning to tell you this,” Christine started as she leaned in closer to him.
“What’s that?”
“You look so cute with those glasses,” she remarked. “Like really cute. It’s almost as if your face makes sense with them, if that makes any sense.”
“My face makes sense,” he reiterated, and they both laughed at that. He then took off his glasses with one hand and gave his hair a ruffling with a shake of his head.
“Want to try them on, see how you look?” He handed her his glasses. Christine ran her tongue along her bottom lip and, gingerly, she took the glasses for herself. She slipped them on over her nose and left a little bit of space between them and her eyes, and she moved her head back a bit as if she had seen something shocking. The lenses were rather blurry, but not so blurry that she figured it came from her eyes alone.
“I don’t know how you can see through these,” she remarked as she adjusted them on her nose. “They’re utterly filthy.” She blinked several times and moved them again on her nose. The lenses strained her eyes a great deal, and she finally stripped them off her nose.
“You looked good with them, though,” he insisted. “The frames are a little bit big for your face but you looked as though you could rock a pair of glasses some day.”
“I did wear glasses when I was like ten,” Christine recalled. “My eyes got better, but not that much better. I kind of miss those damned things—they were rectangular and purple and had little pink flowers on the arms.”
“So girlish!” he chuckled as he wiped down the lenses with the hem of his shirt before he put them back on. “Sometimes I think of wearing something really bright and colorful like that just to shock people.”
“You should,” Christine suggested. “You and your trio should dress in drag for this Friday night.”
He laughed a hearty laugh at that, and he gave his hair another toss back with the flick of his head.
“I should probably tell you that I’m nearsighted,” Alex told her with a nudge of his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“So if you don’t see Nelly bringing the food up to us, I have to remind you of it?” she teased him.
“Nah, it ain’t that bad,” he assured her with another hearty chuckle.
“So if there’s a wet T-shirt contest going on that evening, you won’t see it?” she teased him a second time, and he laughed out loud again.
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he retorted back to her. Nelly then emerged at the counter with their slices of pie and two cups of coffee, to which Christine nodded at her. Alex turned his head, and then he skirted off the chair and padded over to her. Christine kicked back in the chair with her hands folded over her lap, and she flashed a big wink over at Nelly. When Alex thanked her and balanced the pieces of pie in one hand and the two cups of coffee in the other, Nelly flashed Christine a thumbs up paired with a little smirk plastered across her face.
Christine took a brief glimpse down to her chest, to the low-cut white top under her green jacket, and she wondered if she could make that top wet as she attended that show on Friday night. She then raised her head in time to catch her piece of pie and her coffee before he could stumble forth on his shoelaces.
Alex took his spot once again next to her and let out a low whistle, and he set his plate and his cup of coffee down before him. He was slightly out of breath, but Christine knew it came from walking at a brisk pace over towards the counter’s edge.
“I’m so out of shape,” he bemoaned as he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced down at his belly, which spilled a bit over his belt into his lap.
“No, you’re just a little bit chubby is all,” Christine assured him. “You look healthy. Really, you actually look healthy, Alex. If you were that out of shape, you wouldn’t have moved that quickly.”
“Out of shape and eating pie,” he repeated, that time with a shake of his head and another chuckle. He leaned forward and closed his eyes as he took a whiff of the warm golden lattice crust on top of the warm fruity filling: he had gotten straight up apple where she helped herself to decadent blackberry pie.
“You ever have buttermilk pie?” he asked her.
“Like chess pie?”
“Sort of. It’s made with buttermilk rather than cornmeal. I actually prefer it over chess pie, to be honest. I’m just thinking about all kinds of pies and stuff… looking down at my fat gut and whatnot…” His voice trailed off as he sloughed off a bite from the point of the slice, complete with apple slices, nutmeg, and cinnamon.
“Have you guys ever performed in a bakery before?” she asked him.
“In a bakery? Uh… no, I don’t think we have. We’ve played in a deli before.”
“In a deli? D’you guys have sandwiches for your bellies afterwards?”
He chuckled at that. “Oh, we sure did.” He took a bite and closed his eyes all the while as he nourished the flavors. “Oh, god, that’s delicious.”
“Let me try—” Christine took a bite of pie as well: the blackberries were ripe and juicy, and as warm as Alex’s body. “Oh, yeah. These both could use a scoop of ice cream on top.”
“Ooh, yeah, especially yours…” Alex took another bite and kept the tines of the fork in between his cherry lips. Christine imagined him eating a big ripe apple instead of the pie, but he bowed his head to the side at one point as if he had just eaten a piece of pie from her instead.
“Shall we have wine for that evening?” he offered her.
“Wine? What kind of wine?” And she realized that she knew very little about wines.
“Whatever kinda wine you feel like,” he said. “I’ll show you some things come Friday night.”
“Please do, and seven o’clock?” she asked him with a raise of her cup of coffee to him
“Seven o’clock.” He brought his coffee to her own for the toast between them. As she sipped on the warm, rich espresso, she thought about what had happened back in the classroom but she knew that that would have to wait for that evening once they got alone with each other, should they have gotten alone with one another.
After the lunch break, Christine headed on over across the darkened, damp pavement, and she spotted Eric walking under the trees once again, and that time with those two boys Greg and Louie on either side of him.
“Christine Sixteen!” Greg called out to her once she came within earshot.
“The three amigos!” she retorted back, and the three of them laughed. She nodded to Eric. “Are you coming to Alex’s show on Friday?”
“I was just going to ask you if you’d like the three of us to come along with you,” he suggested.
“Do what now?” Greg quipped.
“Do the thing with the thing with her,” Eric stated with a straight face.
“The thing?”
“Go to a show with her on Friday night,” Eric said. “Live music and we can all hang out together.”
“I’ll come along,” Louie offered.
“Yeah, I think I’ll come along, too,” Greg said with a nudge of a lock of hair behind his ear. “What time?”
“Seven o’clock up in the West Village,” she stated.
“We’ll come and pick you up,” Louie vowed to her. “We’ll leave early so we get the good parking space.”
“Come and pick her up and par-tay!” Eric raised his hands up over his head and the four of them ran to the front of the building like a bunch of schoolchildren.
* * * * * * * *
Christine was eager to see Alex that night, and moreover, what his trio was like. She knew that they had to have at least some sort of material for her and those three guys to listen to as they piled into Eric’s car right before sunset and drove across to the Lower East Side, as if they headed for school. It was a cool, cloudy evening, one that beckoned rain, and the sky had already painted itself a dark royal blue to go with the lushness of the West Village. Through the darkening sky, she spotted the lights of the Flatiron Building followed by the Empire State Building behind that.
They passed the Museum of Ice Cream when Christine remembered that Nelly’s neighborhood was a straight shot from there all the way up the spine of Manhattan. It was worth more of a bus ride or the subway, but she knew that she could find her way up towards that part of the West Side.
“Now, let’s start thinking about parking spaces,” Eric decreed after they had made four green lights in a row.
“They’re like currency over here,” she heard Louie say.
“Greg’s studying over here all the way from big bright and sunny California,” Eric explained to her.
“Wow! Just like Alex,” she remarked.
“Just like him, really?” Eric cracked her a smile.
“Just like him, yeah,” she answered. “He’s from the Bay Area.”
“I’m from Pleasanton,” Greg told her. “Right outside of there.”
“Wow, what are the odds,” Eric said as he pulled up to the first stoplight. Two corners up the warmly lit street, Christine recognized Alex’s car parked out the front of the club on the corner. Indeed, she spotted a space perpendicular to there.
The light turned green and Eric dodged ahead. Christine then pointed it out.
“Good eyes, good eyes,” he told her, and they hung a quick left for that spot there before anyone else on the street could even think of doing that as well. He switched off the car and ran his fingers through his smooth inky black hair.
Christine peered out the windshield to find Alex there in the backstage side doorway before her, glasses tucked down into the collar of his green slightly snug shirt and faded denim jeans slung down low a bit. She climbed out of the car and gave her hair a shake, and he nodded and showed a smile at her.
“Strawberry Girl made it early,” he remarked, and Louie climbed out from behind her, followed by Greg and then Eric. “And she’s brought a whole gang with her, too! Come on in, guys.”
“We don’t have to pay for cover charges, do we?” Eric asked him.
“Just for your drinks and if you want something to eat, but that’s pretty much it,” Alex assured him, and the four of them filed in there with him. It was a cozy, warmly lit little jazz club with heavy dark wooden walls and a low ceiling with dark blue lights that made Christine think of a dance floor. Narrow dark tables with tall spindly chairs scattered across the main floor before the stage: on the far side of the room stood the bar, to which the three guys behind her ducked on over to, which in turn left her alone with Alex.
She followed him into the small corridor behind the drum kit, and he led her into his small brightly lit dressing room, filled with nothing more than a comfy blue couch, a small black table, a wrought iron floor lamp, a record player tucked in the corner, and a coat rack off to her right.
He coaxed her over to the couch, and she spotted the bottle of Merlot wine with a pair of wine glasses on the table. She shut door and hung her green coat up on the rack next to the couch.
“Let the boys have their boyish drinks,” he told her as he picked up the corkscrew next to the bottle. “This is where the real fun lies.” He stuck in the screw and turned, and then pulled. Almost immediately, the smell of fresh wind swept over them. “I’m glad you got here early, too. Nate and Matt aren’t going to be here for at least another forty or so minutes: they’re all the way uptown.”
“Lou wanted a good parking space,” she explained with a shrug. He chuckled at that, and he poured her a big glass of wine first, and then he followed with himself.
“Always a good reason to come early,” he assured her. “Anyway, this is Merlot. A French wine, it’s what’s known as ‘dry’ meaning it’s a little more bitter, but it’s kind of fruity and kind of earthy, though.”
“A nice little balance,” she remarked, and she sniffed the glass first before she took a sip. Indeed, the cool wine hit her tongue and she could feel the music in her.
“Ooh, that’s good,” she stated.
“See? I love Merlot. And—” He raised his glass to her, and she followed suit.
“To life, to words, to ceramics and a guitar pick,” she stated.
“And those who hate can kindly suck my dick,” he followed along, and they both burst out laughing before they clinked their glasses together. She took another sip and a chill ran up her spine.
“Something I’ve wanted to do with you all week long, Christine,” he told her once he took an even bigger sip than she did.
“What’s that?”
She turned her attention toward him and the hooded look to his deep eyes. She raised her eyebrows.
“Oh, no,” she muttered. “You aren’t suggesting—”
“Yes, I am.” He sipped some more wine before he set it down in the table before him. Christine watched him duck on over to the record player when he saw there were no vinyl records there in the cabinet below the actual phonograph.
“What’s a record player that doesn’t have any records on hand?” he scoffed, and he threw his hands up. “Oy…”
She giggled at him, and then she took another sip. Alex then put his glasses on and shook his head about to ruffle his hair.
“We could still have some fun,” she assured him, and she stood to her feet and faced him. It was right then the effects of the wind swept over her. Christine had only had half a glass and yet, she was already slightly feeling the effects. He chuckled at her.
“You’re more of a lightweight than I am,” he told her as she sauntered closer to him.
“I keep picturing you naked,” she confessed to him.
“Me?” he asked her with a point of a finger towards himself.
“Yes, you,” she said, and she put her arms around his neck and stood up on her tiptoes for a little kiss on the side of his neck. Though he only had one glass, she could smell the wine on his breath.
“I pray that you don’t drink so much,” she confessed.
“I was never that much of a drinker,” he assured her with a shrug of his shoulders, “mainly because it quite literally doesn’t take much to give me a buzz. We’re talking a couple of glasses of wine or a couple of beers—that’s honest to god how much it takes for me to get even just a little bit tipsy. It’s hard on my stomach, too.”
She rested a hand on his belly, nicely round and soft under the soft cotton of his shirt.
“Hard on your little tum?” she asked him in a low voice.
“You sure aren’t, though,” he assured her once again, and that time he lowered his voice to a near whisper. Christine pressed her body against his own. It didn’t take long for her to feel tipsy, and it definitely didn’t take long for her to be in the mood with him. Alex shuffled back towards the wall next to the record player: she could once again see it in his eyes that he wanted it with her, and to get away from Captain Howdy and never look back for even one second. She could feel his desire even without even thinking twice. Christine fanned out her fingers and ran them down his chest onto his belly, and down to his belt.
“Oh deary me,” he remarked.
“That’s right,” Christine whispered into his lips.
“You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”
“What else would I be doing?” she giggled into his lips as she moved in for another soft kiss, a sweet little peck right on those soft cherry lips. She moved her fingers onto his belt to find the end. She found it and nudged it towards the buckle.
She undid his belt for him with one hand. Alex then rested his hands on her shoulder blades, and he gently turned her towards the wall so he could have some control and she could command from the bricks behind her. He unzipped his pants and let them fall down around his legs: Christine peeled off her low cut white top and showed him her bra which buttoned at the front. He unbuttoned them for her and her breasts hung out for him.
“What are you?” he sputtered. “What are you, Christine Sixteen?”
“I’m your student, Professor Skolnick,” she growled, and she reached down to feel him.
“I don’t know if we can do this here, though,” he confessed to her in a breathy, husky voice.
“Sure, we can—”
“I don’t have protection,” he confessed once again as she stroked him with her thumb and her index finger.
“Are you healthy, though?” she asked him.
“Healthy enough.”
“Then there’s nothing we can’t do, baby,” she assured him as she leaned her back against the wall and put her hands behind her head. “Come on. Do your worst.”
“But what if we get caught?”
“Let ‘em look,” she told him, to which he gaped at her. “I want them to look. And I want her to look at us while we’re having some fun, baby boy.”
Alex bowed his head, and he planted some soft kisses on her breasts until the nipples were nice and tight.
“Down low, baby boy,” she coaxed him as the wine and the feeling of his body overtook her. Those long guitar player fingers fondled her under her hood, which sent shivers up her spine, much like that first night with him. But the wine had set him free.
The wine had woken him up to what he really wanted, and she wanted it so badly from him.
Alex then came face to face with her.
Christine let out a gentle moan from the feeling of his shaft up against the outside of her lips. He locked eyes with her as he slipped the very tip in, and she treated him to a low, broken whimper. Her hands wandered up the curvature of his spine to the base of his neck. He slipped it in again to where she gasped and let out a low moan once again.
A third time and she gritted her teeth from the feeling.
A fourth time. The musky scent on the side of his neck was intoxicating for her, far more than Eric, Greg, and Louie’s combined colognes back on the main floor.
A fifth time. The fifth time was the charm. She opened her mouth all the way and a soft cry emerged. Alex leaned in and kissed the side of her neck.
“So good—so good—” she breathed out and she could feel that he had pulled out before he made a mess with her.
“Good for the soul?” he whispered into her ear.
“Like the feel of the music within me…” She opened her eyes and gazed into those baby blues, as soft and soulful as ever from behind those squared lenses.
“Christine… the Strawberry Girl,” he sang to her in a soft whisper. “Christine. The only one that I want—even if I wind up in a body bag—disintegrate me—” He licked his lips and moved back away from her to clean up and let her button up. A warm blush crossed his face, especially once he put his pants back on and fixed his shirt.
“If anyone asks, we were tipsy,” he told her, still in that husky voice.
“Of course,” she vowed to him, and she put her arms around his full waist and lay her head against his chest. Her breasts rubbed up against him, a good feeling to take with him even once Nathan and Matt showed up to the venue.
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As the Seasons Grey