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Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Nineteen: Alone in Brooklyn

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Christine rolled over onto her back, only to feel something soft and warm right next to her. She opened her eyes, and she rolled her head over the surface of the pillow to which she beheld the slumbering face of Alex right next to her. He had taken off his glasses and rested them on the desk next to the bed: a stray lock of hair spread over his face and the bridge of his nose, all the way down to his full lips. An older gentleman, and yet he never looked more boyish than he did there. She smiled at him when she remembered that he had spent the night in her bed after that round with the ribbon.

She put her arm around his full waist and nuzzled her face into the side of his neck to better take in his essence and his aroma. His hair was soft and plush, a stark contrast from the coarseness she had acquainted herself with. How she wanted him to be with her in her bed every morning all summer long, even on the hot days where the sweat was undeniable. His skin was soft and smooth, and he smelled so raw and sweet. Christine pressed her lips onto the side of his neck, and he treated her to a tender little smile. She slid her hand up his belly onto his chest all to feel his tender silken skin; he never opened his eyes for a second as she moved her hand down onto his belly again, and that time, she gave him the sweetest little pat on his flesh. Her lips on his neck again, and he ran his fingers through his dark hair: the roots of his gray streak showed themselves to her like little glints of silver embedded in the earth.

Christine put her hand on the side of his face, and she gave him a soft kiss on the other side.

“Treating me so well,” he breathed out; his voice was low and velvety, and she couldn’t help but lower her hand back to his belly again.

“Treating you so well when you’re really sexy,” she whispered into his ear.

“Yeah, the sexy fat guy who’s got gray hairs the size of a Circle K,” he quipped, and she giggled and buried her face into the side of his chest. She then lifted her head and gazed into his sleepy face, to which he opened his eyes to look on at her.

“And you’re not fat, either,” she assured him.

“I am fat—I’ve got a potbelly,” he insisted, and she gently rubbed his skin.

“You’re chubby,” she assured him, “and very cute.” She kissed the side of his neck again, and when she thought she was going to make love with him again, she knew that he would have to leave for the day, and especially with her mother home as well.

“Would you like a bit of breakfast?” she offered him.

“Please,” he replied; he ran his fingers through his black hair with one hand; he rested his other hand on his bare belly. “There is actually nothing I want more right now than something to eat.” He then raised his eyebrow at her. “Unless you wanna take breakfast to something else, some other level.”

Christine cupped her hand on the side of his face, and she kissed him on the lips. His skin was soft and plush, and he almost tasted sweet as well.

“Maybe after I get your belly full and have you around my finger some more,” she suggested, and she showed him a little smile as she lifted herself off of him and let her hair dangle down towards his face.

“We should eat and drink and be merry all the way to Hanukkah,” he suggested as well. “Then we’ll really feast.” Christine squinted her eyes at him, especially when she remembered the wedding.

“Are you suggesting that you’re going to make a complete piggy of yourself on your big day?” she asked him with a few skips of her heartbeat.

“Not really,” he replied. “But you and I will have plenty of feasts, though.” He flashed her a wink and sat upright next to her, and he picked out his glasses from the desk right next to them, and he put them on. He showed her a sweet little smile with a slight bow to his head, like that of the shy boy with a crush. Christine hooded her eyes at him, and then she leaned into his face again for another tender little kiss on those cherry lips.

“Let’s wine and dine,” she suggested with a mischievous smile. “Order in. And I want you to eat, and I want you to never stop eating, either.”

“Scrambled eggs embedded with pesto, onions, and bell peppers accompanied with a fat stack of pancakes covered in butter, blueberries, and maple syrup,” he requested in a single breath. “And then I want a slice of apple pie à la mode.”

Christine leaned in and kissed him on the lips again, that time with a caress of her tongue.

“When you say ‘fat stack’, how many is that?” she asked him.

“Five,” he replied. “I gotta have room for my slice of pie with ice cream.” He hooded his eyes at her, and the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose a bit.

“I was just thinking about having a pair of Liège Belgian waffles with some butter and a cup of coffee but I kind of feel like you could hold so much more in that tummy of yours,” she teased him in a single breath.

“I feel things getting tight already,” he said, and he ran his tongue around his lips. Christine leaned back in closer to his face again, that time with both hands on either side for a touch more fire to the feeling of her lips. Alex relaxed his shoulders and bumped out his chest enough for her to feel him; she slithered her tongue into his mouth to taste him some more before she strode into the kitchen for a drink of water and a fresh pot of coffee for the two of them.

“Mmm… this is so good,” he remarked in a low voice once she moved her head back away from him for a good long look into his deep eyes. Christine licked her lips and climbed off the bed to put on a clean pair of shorts and a camisole as well as open the windows for the brand-new summer’s day. The sweet breeze found its way into the apartment right as she ordered them breakfast from the diner not too far from the complex.

Once she hung up the phone, she ran a hand through her hair, and Alex surfaced from the bathroom with nothing more than his pajama shorts on; Christine showed him a smile as she lay eyes on his tall, shapely body, as bare and gorgeous as she could ever imagine.

“You look very cute,” she told him as she padded into the kitchen.

“It’s warm in here,” he declared with a gentle rub of his chest; he flexed his fingers in his chest hair, much to her pleasure.

“Hence why I opened the windows,” she assured him, and he gave his hair a little toss with the flick of his head, and then he nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the back of his knuckle. He stood in the doorway of the living room and pressed his hands to his hips. Once she began to clean out the filter of the coffee maker, Christine let her eyes fall to the full shape of his body, which seemed to glow under the soft morning sunlight coming in from the front window.

“You look hungry,” she remarked.

“I am absolutely famished,” he said as he slowly ran his hand down his rounded belly. Christine took her spot at her table and propped her chin up in the palm of her hand. She watched him pad into the kitchen, still with one hand on his bare skin. He picked out the mug from the counter and poured himself a cup of that fresh black coffee. She let her eyes graze over the shape of his body, from his height to the full shape that enticed her so.

It was so sweet to think about, that the two of them were alone together in her apartment, and with Wendy home right across the way no less. It was still early in the morning and no music from the other side of the hallway, and thus, they could be alone.

“Where’s the trio show going to be again?” Christine asked him.

“The Iridium,” he replied before he sipped on his coffee. “I’ll come and get you if you’d like.”

“Please,” she insisted, and he took his spot there at the table next to her. He ran his fingers through his black hair, and the roots of his streak peeked out at her like a rabbit poking its head out of the hole. “Let’s hang out backstage afterwards.”

“Hang out backstage and maybe Valentina and Eric can join us, too?” he offered.

“Absolutely,” she said as he took another sip of coffee again. “I’m looking forward to seeing them again, even though Eric and I spent a whole week together out in California.” His face then lit up and snapped his fingers at her.

“School schedules are going to be dropping pretty soon,” he told her. “I hope this year is good for you.”

“Good for us,” she corrected him in a low voice, and he showed her a little smile at that.

“I’ll be teaching music theory as well as French literature again,” he said. “I’ll be teaching jazz, too, if you can believe it.”

“Ooh, I hope I can take that one at some point,” she decreed.

“Pfff, you just wanna be close to me and my big belly,” he teased her, and she giggled at him.

“But in all seriousness, I hope I can take it as an elective,” she insisted. “Because… I’ll admit it. I do wanna be close to you and your chubby belly. I also wanna know more jazz, too. It’s a world I only know a little tiny bit about from being around my grandparents, but it’s mostly an unknown to me.”

“Oh, you can get that from me right here,” he assured her. “In fact…” He leaned forward and folded his hands over the surface of the table. He hooded his eyes and showed her the tip of his tongue. “…I can give you somewhat of an insider’s deal, so you can get a head start if and when you do take my class.”

Christine squinted her eyes at him. She knew their breakfast was on its way, and she could still feel his hunger and his warmth even from a few feet away from him. She decided to go with the look in his eyes, the look that seduced her more than the kiss of a torrential rain.

“Does she know about this insider deal?” she asked him in a low voice.

“She does not,” he replied, also in a low voice and with a shake of his head. Christine licked her lips again, and she lowered her gaze to his full waist and his sinewy thighs, the latter of which were still wrapped up in his pajama shorts. She leaned in closer to him as if about to kiss him.

“Does the jazz world know how to kiss as well as you?” she asked him in a near whisper.

“Nope. But I can make it do that. Like how I would think you can make the art world kiss as well as you.”

Christine raised her hand to his chest to feel his skin and the sprigs of hair there. Her chest lifted from the rush of the feeling.

“Is the jazz world as sexy as you?” she asked him, and she could hardly contain herself with the feeling, either.

“It absolutely is.” He nearly breathed the words to her. She closed her eyes and prepared to kiss him, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Breakfast is here,” she told him, and she tapped her finger on the tip of her nose as she stood to her feet. She knew that her mother wasn’t awake yet, and thus, they could have breakfast together and he could be there with her all morning if he so wished.

#dark roots of earth #dark roots of earth fanfic #as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #traditional art #alex skolnick #testament #testament band #oc art #oc artwork #artists on tumblr #badgalnirvhannahart #Spotify

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nuagederose · 1 month ago

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Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Eighteen: Out of Focus

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Christine held his hand as she led him back to her apartment, the second door on the second floor. The entire wing of the floor smelled of cinnamon and cloves, and she knew that her mother was home. She turned to Alex with her finger over her lips so he could creep along the side of the hallway towards her front door. Cinnamon and cloves as well as the familiar sound of “Harvest Moon” on the other side of that door across the way.

“Love me some Neil,” he whispered right into Christine’s ear, to which she brought a finger to his lips again.

“Shhh.” With her free hand, she took out her key and unlocked the door for the two of them, and then she led him into the safety of her front room. He ran his fingertips over his brow and let out a low whistle, but then, once the door was closed behind him, she stood up on her toes before him and kissed him on the soft cherry lips. She was as light as ever and she made sure that she moved in on the rim of his upper lip. She rested her hands on his chest and belly so as to steady herself, and then he held back a little bit to look into her face. He ran his fingers through his fine dark hair, and the roots of his silver streak flashed right before her eyes like a flash of lightning.

“I swear to god, your kisses are getting sexier every time,” he confessed in a husky voice.

Christine wriggled her fingers along his chest and his belly, the latter of which she realized poked out a little bit more.

“Put on a few again,” she said in a teasing, singsong voice. “That’s going to need a little bit of punishing.” He showed her a lopsided little smile and nudged the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Kiss me—kiss me like you mean it.”

“I always mean it,” he whispered to her, and he stooped forward for a tender kiss in return for her own. Though Alex had clasped his hands to her shoulders, Christine reached up and took him by the hand. She led him back to the safety of her bedroom, though he had left the door slightly ajar.

The two of them took off their shirts in unison; Alex adjusted his glasses and ran his fingers through his hair once again. He then ran his fingers down the side of his neck and onto his collar bones. Christine watched him run his fingers down onto his chest, followed by his chubby belly.

His otherwise slender body having grown rather round.

“I want you to punish me,” he told her in a low voice. “I want you to put the hurt on me for having let myself go a bit.”

Christine licked her lips, and she tucked one hand into her jeans pocket. Wendy’s music and the smell of baking were both still lingering about in the front part of Christine’s apartment, and she knew that this was going to be interesting. There was a part of her that wished Marlene was there with them so she could videotape the whole affair.

Christine sidled over to her bed, and she gently patted on the mattress before the edge of the pillow.

“Have a seat,” she coaxed him in a voice like velvet.

Alex sank down on the edge of the bed, albeit rather hunched over.

“No, no. Lean back. Let me see you.”

He leaned back onto his hands, and the lower part of his belly hang out over his belt. The lower ends of his hair spread over his bare shoulders and the top of his chest. He kept his gaze pointed down to the floor and his lap, but then he lifted it up to her, as if he was seducing her just by sitting there with his hands behind him.

Christine sat down on the edge of the bed next to him with her one hand still in her pocket, and he raised an eyebrow at her all the while.

“What’cha got for me?” he asked her.

“A little surprise for you. Close your eyes.”

He did just that, and then she picked out the piece of silk from her pocket. Carefully, she took off his glasses for him and placed them down on the desk next to her bed.

She put the silk ribbon around his eyes, albeit with a little bit of caution given the filmy quality and length of his hair. Gently, she leaned him back onto the bed, towards the base of the headboard, and she helped him spread his legs apart. Even with his jeans on, she could feel the warmth radiating from his crotch and in between his thighs.

“Arms up,” she coaxed him, and he put his arms up over his head: the top part of his belt revealed more of his belly to her, such that she began thinking about kissing him underneath his belly button and then going from there. She had to think first, however.

Think first, ask questions later.

Christine rubbed her hands together and trickled her fingers down his chest onto the top of his belly. There was a part of her that wished that Marlene had given her more than one piece of silk to tie his hands down right at the base of the headboard of her bed, but the one would have to do, however. The one that kept his sight hidden away from her.

She raked her fingers through the slight sprigs of hair at the center of his chest, and she let the finest, most curled ones coil around her fingers. He softly groaned in his throat from the feeling, and more so when she ran her fingertips around the rims of his nipples. She only used two fingers for a feel around that tender skin, and on the second revolution, his body shuddered and shook from the feeling.

“Whoa,” Alex breathed out.

Christine licked her lips and then placed her hands on either side of his chest. She suspended herself over his body so her long ponytail could slide off her back and onto his chest. He parted his lips and let out a long low whistle; she noticed that he was pressing his fingers and his palms against the face of the headboard.

Like a good boy, he was keeping his hands up over his head.

Christine bowed her head over his chest for a kiss in the middle: the hair was coarse and tickled the inside of her nose, but she managed to keep it together as she reached his belly. His skin was soft and pillowy, and he had maintained his softness there after all this time. She never wanted him to lose his softness or the sweet rounded shape of his waist even for a minute, and especially not when he was so kissable there.

“Oh my god.” The words escaped his lips as her own graced the soft smooth skin at the top of his belly. This was a feeling that Captain Howdy could never give into him.

Not without going through Christine first.

She lay her hands on either of his sides, all just to feel him more. She kept her hips up in the air so he could have room to buck his hips about if he so wished.

When he was pleased, she was pleased as well, and the other way around.

When she reached the middle of his belly, and right where he was extra warm, she could feel him shifting his weight underneath her. She lifted her head from his flesh for a second, long enough for her to see that he only had his fingertips pressed against the wood.

Christine reached his belly button, where gently and slowly, she ran her fingertip around the rim.

“Ho… oh my god,” he blurted out. The blindfold was a good move. Maybe next time, she could tie him down with it and then go to town with him from there.

Christine brought her lips back to his skin, and she let her ponytail sweep over his skin once again. His hips bucked a bit, and she remembered that he only had his fingers on the wood rather than his hands.

“Keep your hands up over your head,” she commanded to him.

But he never moved his hands away from the smooth polished wood, even as his breath picked up and his chest heaved from the feeling. Christine brought her lips down under his belly and onto that soft skin underneath. All she needed was a little bit of spice to pick things up between the two of them, and she could feel it from the way he was erecting from underneath her neck and shoulders. With another lick of her lips, she left another little line of kisses on his skin until she reached that smooth bit again.

She then peeled back his underwear to show himself to her. He needed a little help.

Alex shuddered again, and more so when she neared the top of his shaft using nothing more than her lips. She made a small mental note to remind herself, to thank Marlene for the silk ribbon when she saw her again. She tugged back his jeans to reveal more of him to her.

He let out another low whistle as she put her hands around his shaft and gently stroked his warm skin. He was firming up, but he needed time. He needed time and he needed her touch in particular. Another whistle followed by a whimper, a gasp, and then a gentle groan. He was so quiet and so tender, even as such a big tall sinewy man with such a striking appearance, and she was willing to uncover more of his quietness, more of his tenderness, more of the gray that made him up as well as her own grayness.

Christine opened her mouth and brought it down onto his burgeoning erection. She moved her head forward so the tip rested on her tongue.

She then moved back, and then back forward again. It was like she was suckling on the smooth tightening skin of a cucumber, and more so as she let the outside of his shaft go further back into her mouth. She let it move so far back into her mouth that she thought she would make herself gag.

She opened her eyes and raised her gaze to his face, and right as she noticed his head tilting back into the pillow. Indeed, his back was arching. His legs were shifting about underneath her.

Christine returned to the matter at bay, and she moved her head back down along the side of his shaft for more.

She wasn’t going to stop, either, especially when he was blindfolded and he had given himself to her.

Carefully, she sank her teeth into the taut skin, and she gently dragged her teeth along as she moved her head back away from his body. He opened his mouth and lifted his head from the pillow all the while: no sound emerged from his mouth, at least not until she did it a second time. He relaxed his arms as he kept them up over his head, and he began breathing even harder from the feeling.

She knew that he would be coming soon enough, but she persisted. She was going to keep going with it until her jaw grew tired.

More of that cinnamon aroma floated into the bedroom right then, and she relaxed every inch of her body from the smell of it.

Alex barred his teeth and whistled some more as she alternated between teeth and no teeth. It was as if she was rocking him and grinding him forth, as if she was churning butter, as if she was stirring some kind of pot.

Before long, she could feel something on her tongue and the back of her mouth, but after a quick swallow, she kept going. She kept going until the muscles in her jaw couldn’t bear holding him down like that for a second longer.

Christine let go of him, complete with some saliva collected on the corners of her mouth as well as the flavor of his own wet dick. Out of breath, Alex lay still on his back with his arms up on either side of his head as if he had been defeated. His chest heaved, and his belly relaxed and rose like the ebb and flow of water.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then she crawled up next to him. Gently, she took off the blindfold for him, to which he gazed up at her in a daze.

“Wow,” he breathed out. “That was…” He shook his head over the top of the pillow. “Wow.”

She nudged a stray lock of hair back from his forehead, and she lightly kissed him right over his brow. She then kissed him on the lips and nestled down next to him with one arm wrapped around his chest. Christine smiled to herself as she knew that she had done him right, especially when she held the silk ribbon in her hand, right up against the side of his chest.

#fanfic #fanfiction #dark roots of earth #dark roots of earth fanfic #as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfic with art #traditional art #alex skolnick #oc art #testament #testament band #smut #erotic art #artists on tumblr #badgalnirvhannahart #Spotify

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