Curves
Title: Curves
Pairing or Characters: Howard/Vince
Word Count: 565
Rating: NC-17 (for erotica)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no profit off them.
Response to the BSH Valentine's Day prompt-a-thon Specific Prompt: pat_o_cake's Fat Vince. Vince being chubby and beautiful and lounging around on cushions like a French Duke, getting fed cake (probably by Howard)" Well it's not exactly to the prompt, but I hope that's ok. :-)
Howard leaned in and fed Vince the last tiny forkful of battenburg cake. Then pushing the plate aside, he wiped a tiny fleck of marzipan off the corner of Vince's lips and watched as Vince licked it off his finger.
Normally, Howard detested the idea of food in bed. The crumbs! The crumbs! But the flat was a mess and Naboo's friends hadn't left yet. Shamen and birthdays - what a terrible combination.
"Oh, I shouldn't have eaten that," Vince fretted, holding a hand to his belly.
"But you love cake. All cake. And sweets." Howard pointed out.
"Yeah, but look at me!" Vince squeaked. "I can't even properly fit into my mirrorball suit anymore. What an embarrassment! I had to wear a feather boa and my blue floral waistcoat like a halter top to cover up. I've got a belly! And tiny little man-tits like yours! When did that happen?!?! That fabric has got a four-way stretch. But it's a good thing I know how to accessorize."
Howard didn't mind, though. He liked Vince with a bit more to him.
"Hush, little man," he breathed soothingly into Vince's ear. His deep, sonorous voice never failed to calm Vince down.
Howard slipped off Vince's waistcoat and slowly unzipped the mirrorball suit. Vince breathed deeply as Howard softly slid his other hand in between the silvery fabric and cupped Vince's nipple. Vince tilted his head back and gasped. Caressing his nipple, he slid his hand down to press against Vince's belly. Wet lips, hot tongue, moustache tickling skin as Howard showed his appreciation for Vince's "man-tit." His massive hand took hold of the flesh under Vince's belly button and scooped the other arm underneath to cradle his lower back to draw him nearer. Vince felt consumed in the best possible way.
There was something about Vince's soft curves that Howard preferred to the angular body he once knew. He loved Vince no matter what his body looked like. But the tactile satisfaction of flesh yielding to hands made their lovemaking feel more intimate somehow. Or perhaps he was just less self-conscious now that his wasn't the only body to show the signs of middle age?
Vince kicked off the rest of his suit and popped the snap on Howard's brown corduroys. They always gave a kind of satisfying release. He slipped his hands behind, pulling down trousers and pants in one move.
It's easy for Howard to not care about his weight, Vince thought to himself. He hasn't got any fashion sense.
If he told himself the truth, he loved Howard's belly. He touched it every chance he could get. His hands were drawn to it in the same way they were drawn to hairspray. They just made things right in the world. But did coupledom have to mean matching bodies?
Maybe the Camden elite could be convinced to start wearing loose cardigans? Or button their too tight shirts in such a way to look like décolletage?
Howard pulled off his neck roll - a hot hazelnut - and licked Vince's ear. A shiver ran down Vince's spine and straight to his cock, all thoughts of fat and fashion momentarily wiped from his mind.
"You're beautiful, Vince." Howard cooed. "Just as you are."
"Yeah, I guess I am," Vince beamed back. It was hard, after all, to argue with Howard's physical appreciation pressing against him.
Pairing or Characters: Howard/Vince
Word Count: 565
Rating: NC-17 (for erotica)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no profit off them.
Response to the BSH Valentine's Day prompt-a-thon Specific Prompt: pat_o_cake's Fat Vince. Vince being chubby and beautiful and lounging around on cushions like a French Duke, getting fed cake (probably by Howard)" Well it's not exactly to the prompt, but I hope that's ok. :-)
Howard leaned in and fed Vince the last tiny forkful of battenburg cake. Then pushing the plate aside, he wiped a tiny fleck of marzipan off the corner of Vince's lips and watched as Vince licked it off his finger.
Normally, Howard detested the idea of food in bed. The crumbs! The crumbs! But the flat was a mess and Naboo's friends hadn't left yet. Shamen and birthdays - what a terrible combination.
"Oh, I shouldn't have eaten that," Vince fretted, holding a hand to his belly.
"But you love cake. All cake. And sweets." Howard pointed out.
"Yeah, but look at me!" Vince squeaked. "I can't even properly fit into my mirrorball suit anymore. What an embarrassment! I had to wear a feather boa and my blue floral waistcoat like a halter top to cover up. I've got a belly! And tiny little man-tits like yours! When did that happen?!?! That fabric has got a four-way stretch. But it's a good thing I know how to accessorize."
Howard didn't mind, though. He liked Vince with a bit more to him.
"Hush, little man," he breathed soothingly into Vince's ear. His deep, sonorous voice never failed to calm Vince down.
Howard slipped off Vince's waistcoat and slowly unzipped the mirrorball suit. Vince breathed deeply as Howard softly slid his other hand in between the silvery fabric and cupped Vince's nipple. Vince tilted his head back and gasped. Caressing his nipple, he slid his hand down to press against Vince's belly. Wet lips, hot tongue, moustache tickling skin as Howard showed his appreciation for Vince's "man-tit." His massive hand took hold of the flesh under Vince's belly button and scooped the other arm underneath to cradle his lower back to draw him nearer. Vince felt consumed in the best possible way.
There was something about Vince's soft curves that Howard preferred to the angular body he once knew. He loved Vince no matter what his body looked like. But the tactile satisfaction of flesh yielding to hands made their lovemaking feel more intimate somehow. Or perhaps he was just less self-conscious now that his wasn't the only body to show the signs of middle age?
Vince kicked off the rest of his suit and popped the snap on Howard's brown corduroys. They always gave a kind of satisfying release. He slipped his hands behind, pulling down trousers and pants in one move.
It's easy for Howard to not care about his weight, Vince thought to himself. He hasn't got any fashion sense.
If he told himself the truth, he loved Howard's belly. He touched it every chance he could get. His hands were drawn to it in the same way they were drawn to hairspray. They just made things right in the world. But did coupledom have to mean matching bodies?
Maybe the Camden elite could be convinced to start wearing loose cardigans? Or button their too tight shirts in such a way to look like décolletage?
Howard pulled off his neck roll - a hot hazelnut - and licked Vince's ear. A shiver ran down Vince's spine and straight to his cock, all thoughts of fat and fashion momentarily wiped from his mind.
"You're beautiful, Vince." Howard cooed. "Just as you are."
"Yeah, I guess I am," Vince beamed back. It was hard, after all, to argue with Howard's physical appreciation pressing against him.