#the skeleton key | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feverinfeveroutfic · 29 days

Text

the skeleton key | chapter five: a violet affair

Mark and Dave had gotten their goods within the day, but I was more concerned as to whether or not I could hang out with Alex again. I knew for a fact that I had to have time away from the bakery, but then again, I had my worries that I could lose my job there if I took too much time off. The tour in question was two weeks, and I had all of ten days for vacation for the year, and naturally, I hated the idea of having to take all those days off in concession lest I wanted to head out somewhere over the summer or for Christmas.

One thing was for certain and that was the fact that I wanted to be in Seattle and Eugene. I had only been to Seattle once before, and it was before my life as a baker, and I needed to seduce Alex with the donuts from Eugene. I giggled at the thought of making him a special black and white donut in honor of his gray streak. A black donut with a line of a pearl across the top and the kiss of cookies and cream, and I would make him a full baker’s dozen, all for him. I remembered that Valentine’s Day was upon us, and thus, I knew that I could make him something for that day. I had no idea as to what his situation was, but I had the desire within me, the desire to give him something that he could take home with him and indulge to his heart’s desire.

I couldn’t really explain it but he brought out a strange itch in me. I suddenly had the feeling to bake all manner of Jewish food and make sure that I had day-olds all for him, because I knew for a fact that he would swing by during the day, even if he was about to leave and head off to this next stint of touring.

I had clocked in early that morning with the memory of the night before still etched in my mind. I never got that other guy Eric’s number, but I was certain that he and Marcy had hit it off when my eyes were on Alex and Stu. All I could recall from the walk back to the car was hearing his laughter behind me and his offering to see us again when the time came. I had no clue as to what that meant, but I had my hunches.

I had set out the croissants with ham and cheese as well as the new ones filled with greens and cream cheese as a play on spanakopita when the front door opened.

I recognized that head of smooth, fine blonde hair as it made its way into the room.

“Oh, hey, Jerry,” I greeted him.

“Hi! I thought I’d get here early so I could tell you the big news.”

“New Alice In Chains album?” I quipped as I wiped my hands on the very bottom part of my apron. He laughed out loud at that, complete with a clap of his hands.

“No, but it is in consideration, though! I was going to tell you that I’m embarking on a big tour this year. A big grand tour, if you will, a big chunk of which will take place out here in the Golden State.”

“I was just going to ask, what about here in California?” I confessed to him, to which he kept up that smile and leaned in closer to me.

“It’s not for a while, like I won’t perform here in L.A. until late September,” he continued. “I’m still inviting you and Marcy Playground to come in and join me along the way.”

“You know I’d be more than happy to,” I assured him. “Shall I bring a pie or a cake along with me?”

“Surprise me,” he decreed, complete with a slight hooding to his eyes as if he was seducing me. He leaned in closer to me just so I could drink in his musky but soft cologne on the side of his neck and all along his face. “I mean that, too. I want you to surprise me.”

I had the idea to make him an erotic cake once I saw him again, but I nipped it off right then because I had no idea as to how he would react towards it.

“You know, we have a rye bread that we make with pale ale and oats,” I told him. “We also have Bailey’s cake and cupcakes for St. Paddy’s Day coming up here soon, too.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” he confessed. “I’m not much of a drinker, though.”

“The alcohol bakes right out of it all, so we’re left with the mere flavors of the Bailey’s and the ale, too. The cake and the cupcakes are utterly decadent and indulgent because there’s lots of chocolate and even some espresso mixed in.”

“Oh, man, you’re killing me.” He leaned away and ran his fingers through his hair. “I should tell you that my birthday is the day after St. Patrick’s Day, too.”

“Oh, wow! I better get on prep, then.”

“And I just might see you then, too.” Jerry flashed me a wink and then bowed out of there, and I was left with a warm flushed feeling in my face as a result. I turned my attention to the plate of croissants right next to me, and a part of me wanted to chase him down and offer him one, but he was already long gone at that point.

I set the plate on the counter before me when the door swung open again, and that time I recognized the frizzy head of black hair split in two with a streak of gray like a vein of quicksilver. Those eyes, not as big and pool-like as they were the night before

“Hi,” I greeted him.

“Hi.” Alex returned the favor with that lopsided little little smile filled with those buck teeth.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I confessed to him as I folded my arms over the top of the counter.

“That’s okay! Take your time with it and think about your work and all the trappings that come with it.” He approached the other side of the counter, also with his arms folded over the top edge. I reached down right next to me for the plate of spanakopita croissants, especially since I remembered they were kosher.

“Care for a croissant?” I offered him.

“Ooh, oh my,” he remarked.

“They’re filled with spinach and cream cheese.”

“So like spanakopita!”

“Exactly! They’re also kosher.”

“Oh, beautiful.” He ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip and showed me that mischievous smile once again.

“A part of me wants to eat better,” he confessed. “You know, continuously take better care of myself as I get older.”

“Being a baker has allowed me to get more intimate with my ingredients,” I explained. “For example, I am an absolute stickler for all things fresh.”

“As you should be! Something about being a baker and resorting to stuff out of the box or a jar…” He shook his head at that, and then he reached for the croissant on the top and leaned against the counter’s edge as if he was examining something up on the shelf behind me.

“You know, there’s tables out back,” I told him.

“I’d rather be here,” he confessed to me. “To be honest, I’m feeling a little… something something between the two of us.” He held the croissant up to his full cherry lips as if he beckoned a bite, but he never did. He instead locked his eyes with my own and kept that smile plastered across his face.

We were alone in the bakery.

“Let me kiss you,” he begged to me. “Please, we’re alone now. I’m wanting to feel you. I’m wanting to feel something right now, and I’m wanting to try something, too.”

“I got the craziest idea earlier,” I began again, “it’s so stupid, though.” I chuckled and shook my head.

“Can’t be that stupid,” Alex assured me with a shake of his head and a folding of his arms across his chest. I nibbled on my bottom lip, and I noticed the little twinkle in his eye all the while.

So it began.

“We should start baking erotic cakes here in the bakery,” I suggested in a low voice, and he raised his eyebrows at that. “A half dozen cupcakes with my lips molded on top in frosting and fondant. Or a cake in the shape of your dick. Or a cake with your dick on top and me made of modeling chocolate while I’m giving you the mother of all blowjobs.”

“Scandalous,” he blurted out, albeit with a straight face.

“Oh, well… it’s not like we have a lot of big gorgeous Jewish men with long beautiful dark hair and cute little noses come through that door,” I pointed out with a shrug of my shoulders. I kept my eye on the full tip of his nose, and I thought about kissing him there just to give him what for.

“So you wanna kiss me?” I asked him.

“Please, let me kiss you.”

“Come back here and kiss me,” I returned the favor to him. He picked up his spanakopita and rounded the edge of the display case to meet up with me, but I led him into the back room instead, just so we could have all the privacy in the world.

“I should probably tell you that Marcy’s coming at some point today,” I told him. “She never said as to when but all I know is it’s going to be at some point during my shift.”

“So, we better make this quick and to the point,” he quipped.

“Or, we go slow and low and let Marcy walk in and see us,” I suggested to him, which in turn made him gape at me.

“Alison!” he hissed at me. His phone vibrated right then, and he took it out of his jeans pocket for a quick glimpse at the screen.

“Who’s that?” I asked him as I spotted what appeared to be a woman’s name on the screen.

“Oh, no one… just my girlfriend,” he told me, to which I gasped at that.

“You’re a bad, bad boy,” I teased him with a shake of my head and a wag of my finger.

“You think so?” he retorted to me with a flick of his eyebrow.

“You are,” I said. “Be careful, baby, I could hit her up and tell on you.”

“You wouldn’t,” he chuckled, but I showed him my tongue and let it slip in between his lips like the filthiest secret he could ever imagine in his life. He held the croissant right before his chest, and I had no idea as to how he was going to eat it.

“I’m a bad boy and I’m gonna give it to you good, my sweet baker,” he whispered to me.

“Sweet baker with a mysterious boy from Israel,” I retorted.

“Poland, actually. We probably could trace the family name back to Israel, though, if we were able to do it.”

“Interesting! And… are you going to eat that croissant?”

“Of course! I think I’ll eat it once we…” He set it down on the table next to him and unbuttoned his jeans, much to my surprise. I could see that he had a little chubby going in between his legs, right underneath the thin fabric of his briefs.

“When’d you say Marcy was coming in?” he asked me.

“Like any minute,” I replied.

“Okay, so we better get this shit going…” But before he could lunge for me, I beat him to the punchline and I put my arms around his thick waist. I locked my lips with his, and I could feel him undoing the knot of my apron at the small of my back. My hips already began to buck from the feeling, and more so as he leaned his back to the wall off to the side: we were protected by the cabinets and the hood over one of the ovens, and thus, no way anyone could see us.

I let the apron slide off my body, followed by my pants. I spread my legs out to clue him in.

“Go ahead and touch me there,” I whispered to him. “Your fingers. My clit.”

He licked his lips and used those long guitar player fingers to feel me right where it tickled. I gasped and shuddered from the feeling of his fingers on the head of the nub.

We were doing it. We were doing it in the back room of the bakery right next to one of the ovens.

“To the left,” I whispered to him. He rubbed those rough fingers on the nub on the left side, and I could feel myself growing moist from the feeling.

I then reached down for his dick tucked away in his underwear. I was going to make that dick so wet whether he wanted the inside of his underwear soaked or not. I was going to make him pay for going behind a woman’s back and for not eating the spanakopita as of yet.

I tugged it out of hiding and fondled him with both hands. I tugged on his flesh as if I was pulling on a thick rope. I gazed into his face all the while: I kept my eyes locked onto his, and I was going to keep it up until he was wetter than me.

I could feel something liquid on the inside of my palm, and I knew he was ready. I spread my legs even more and I bent my knees. He pressed his back to the wall as I ground in deep.

“I just thought of another idea for an erotic cake,” he suggested in between gyrations.

“Go on,” I whispered to him.

“You… have your…” He scrunched his eyes shut and made a noise that sounded like he was choking on something. “…you have your hand on my… on my… on my…!”

I pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. I lifted up a bit so he could breathe, and then I leaned over his body so I could be face to face with him.

“I know,” I whispered into his lips. Alex closed his eyes and let out a silent moan, and I could feel something warm right near the back of my thigh. I glanced down to behold his fully erect, messy dick with the line of pearls trickling out from the tip and onto the floor. I needed to mop, anyway.

“You’ve got a hold on me forever, Alison Chains,” he whispered to me; his voice was tender and throaty, and I wanted to caress it down forever as he had said, even when I let him off the wall so he could gather himself and eat his spanakopita.

When he said my nickname, Jerry burst into my mind. And I knew that there was no way that I could explain it to him when I saw him again.

#the skeleton key fanfic #the skeleton key #fanfic #fanfiction #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #alex skolnick #oc tag #smut warning #smut writing #smut and angst #also on ao3 #writing #text

3 notes · View notes