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The naked old man was a creature of refined tastes.
Even before he had the resources and power to get what he wanted. He had always been a picky eater; even as a hungry sump-waif in the Fissures. Vander would grab for the first thing he could get and wolf it down. Maggoty bread, rancid kebobs, spoiled soup; anything. But Silco? He had patience, he would wait to steal the fresh bread, he would snoop around to discover where they kept the good meat in the kebob stall, he would always stop and formulate a plan for the greatest success. No matter how loud his stomach was growling.
Because even as little boy who never had anything, Silco understood a simple philosophical truth.
What was the point of life if you couldn’t taste something good every once and awhile?
He carried that mindset throughout his life. Through the good and the (mostly) bad. It provided a baseline, an anchor when everything else (often) turned to shit. Spending an cog on a better brand of cigarettes. The feel of a nice scarf over his washed-out rags. Silco learned to appreciate the little things even more as life marched on and he lived, died, was reborn and learned to endure daily agony and the memories of betrayal.
When you shot poison into your diseased dead eye every day to keep river cancer from killing you, you wanted something nice after almost passing out from the agony of said shot. So, he enjoyed himself when he could. Silco knew, like any Fissures-born, how temporary existence was. A Zaunite worked hard, fought hard, lived hard and they all deserved something good….something tasty.
He deserved the meal that was laid out before him.
After all, he had spent years preparing it.
The naked old man had been so patient in the cultivation of the feast; ever since the meal had first presented herself to him. The intoxicating proximity of her made his mouth water, his belly ache and a growl creep up from his throat…..among other reactions. But no, he knew that all good things required patience. Besides there were years of appetizers to enjoy in the meantime while he cooked the main course.
Big blue flashing up at him with affection and joy.
Salty tears that could only be soothed and kissed away by him.
Thin arms (but oh how she grew so quickly) that crushed his ribcage in endless embraces.
A small bottom that wiggled on his lap and tiny fingers that poked at his scar as she gloried in the responsibility of administering his injection.
A little girl who curled-up at his side, snoring like a Noxian bison. She kicked him throughout the night and Silco soon couldn’t sleep without the noise and thumping. Powder fed appetites and desires he didn’t even know he had or had thought were long dead. These nibbles sated him in the years that followed his realization that their journey together only ever had one destination. A fact that the girl somehow knew first and in her delightful animalistic fashion, attempted to rush to the natural conclusion as fast as possible. But Silco resisted this out of instinct and concern.
She wasn’t the type of fruit that you plucked before it was ripe. Jinx wasn’t a piece of rancid street meat you bought at a stall on the way to work your shift at the mines. No, she was the fatted calf. Powder was fed a diet of the best food and care, all the attention and love he could shower her with and everything she needed to become what he knew she could become if he kept her on this side of the river.
Jinx.
Brilliant, merciless, beautiful and hungry for everything he gave her and always ready for more. His Loose Cannon was everything he wanted Zaun to be and he wanted in general. Then that eagerly anticipated day finally came and he broke his fast after five years of deprivation and denial. The reality of it had been very bit as exquisite as it as any of his feverish dreams and thoughts during all those shameful masturbation sessions.
Nothing could compare to the banquet of Jinx.
And Silco discovered something else almost as wonderful. Satisfaction. After a lifetime of searching for the meal that matched his refined tastes, he had found it and after months of indulging in that meal, he had not tired of it. The Chem-Baron only grown more ravenous with each bite. Even now, standing at the edge of their bed, looking at her spread out before him, the naked old man felt same childlike wonder as he did the first time he undressed his daughter and laid her down on his desk downstairs.
Saliva filled his mouth, his large hands flexed and his fingers curled into claws. Instinct told him to leap upon her, tear flesh from bone, ravage her. But that wasn’t appropriate for this occasion. Fine dining was also about ambience. Quick and violent would always be Jinx’s choice and Silco did often favor the fast and brutal approach himself, but not here. That was for the office with the door unlocked, the back of his auto, her cavern workbench or the alleyways outside the bar. But he preferred to go slow in this room. The lighting was gentle, the sheets were soft and he could savor an object that was usually in motion.
Silco let out a slow breath through his large hooked nose and put one knee on the mattress and leaned forward….then he stopped. He needed to properly take in the sight of his meal first. The table was set; time to admire the dish. Now, as a man with refined taste; he appreciated quality plating. Silco had to admit, silently and only to himself, that this was a concept he learned from the Pilties. He had grown up eating the majority of his meals from a stew bowl or out of tinfoil. He knew food could be good but he didn’t know food could be beautiful until he became a Chem-Baron. When he had the money and influence to eat in hoity-toity topside restaurants. Food was an art, you see.
And so was Jinx.
His meal for tonight was presented to him on a plate of the finest flesh. The plate was very rough in spots. Scars, a band-aid on her knee, cuts and nicks beyond counting and fresh burn mark on her inner thigh. His eye narrowed slightly at that; it was too round and centered to be accidental. She would be getting a stern reminder about harming herself without him being present……after. He was too hungry at the moment to play the disciplinarian and she was too eager to be served. The dish was practically vibrating off the bed with impatience. He smirked and lowered himself on the mattress, hovering over her. A hand, covered in it’s own scars, caressed one her spread thighs. The plate was marked by chemicals, bad air and hard living. But so colorful as well; a splash of paint here, a dried crust of mustard there and his fingertips played across the edges of her tattoos. His teeth clicked together at the feel of her.
Many fine eaters, both topside and below, would scoff at such an offering. The elite of both cities preferred their meals to be soft and refined in all aspects. They wanted the plating and presentation to be soft, powdered and submissive. Whether sourced from a nobleman’s house or one of Margot’s brothels. They wanted the exact opposite what lay before him.
Fools. Simpletons. How he loathed them all……they had no taste.
Silco ducked his head against her thigh as he scooted down between her legs. Pressing his nose against her flesh and opening his mouth to extend his tongue. He reveled in the roughness of her skin. It was the feel and taste of Zaun, of home and hearth and it stood in excellent contrast to the feast awaiting him at her center. The older man slid his arms around her to hug her ass as a dainty and dirty foot with painted toenails landed on his left shoulder. His nose tickled her hip bone before meeting the edge of the final thing he had to admire before eating.
The garnish surrounding his meat. It was as cerulean-blue blue as the oily locks fanned out on the bed around them. (Which would require at least ninety minutes out of his schedule tomorrow morning to replait and braid.) The blue bush was thick and curly, he buried his nose in it, inhaling deeply. The aroma of Jinx was earthy and filled his nostrils like river water. Her body odor was abundant with gunpowder, sweat and the electric aftertaste of youth. Yes, she smelled so young still. Even under the shit, blood and violence of their lives; she stilled smelled like a milk-wet kitten to him. Fresh, new and full of possibilities. The garnish was damp and heavy with the heat wafting against his lips and chin. Silco had to look in the dim light; it was too pretty. He had to look at her cunt one more time. His shoulders bent and he bowed his neck, almost in supplication as much as in appetite.
Here was the silk; here was the softness in the center of the coarse. Lips engorged with blood, turning the pale flesh pink. The meat was dewed with drops of her love and it was pulsing, opening in it’s eagerness to be devoured. And it was topped with a rare and delicious edible pearl, a hard jewel emerging from a velvety hood. Drool threatened to spill past his lips. Jinx was so perfect, a dish and a recipe made by him for him, a delicacy that no one else would ever enjoy. Hunger and passion overwhelmed him, Silco moaned as he fell on her.
“Fille Mignon”
The old man’s jaw cracked as he opened his mouth as wide as he could. Covering her cunt completely, all tableside manners left him now. He was just a Trencher again, devouring his grub as quickly as he could before someone snatched it from him. The girl’s wetness covered his lips as he stuck out his tongue to lap at her. Silco’s eye rolled back as she hit his taste buds. It was like butter mixed with the finest cut of steak; soft and it felt it would dissolve against his tongue like ice cream but it never did. Her cunt remained hot and solid, he wiggled his tongue up and down, scooping up her fluid as Jinx groaned and shivered under his oral assault. Silco twisted his head, moving back and licking at her lips. Flattening his tongue like a cat and lapping at her vulva like a dish of milk. She yipped and pushed herself against his mouth. Silco fluttered and flicked his tongue like a snake as he rubbed herself against his face.
His nose bent in her pubic hair as his teeth scraped at her pussy lips, Silco opened and closed his mouth, nipping at her. Jinx cried out and rolled her hips.
“LIKE THAT. UUUGGHH!!”
Sometimes it lasted for hours, sometimes minutes. Silco was never entirely sure when he was between her legs, only here was he unconcerned with the passage of time. His tongue moved, his mouth as filled with her taste and he was content. Silco opened his mouth wide again and covered her entire cunt; such a small dish yet it satisfied him completely. The older man began to hum loudly against her opening and Jinx shrieked and giggled.
“I love that! I love that, it’s like pressing my pussy against the phonograph!”
Silco loved making her feel good as much as he loved how she sated him; it was part of the experience. The calf welcomes the slaughter and it was time for the final cut. Her final course and his most precious treat. Silco licked her from bottom to top with one long and slow motion, Jinx arched her back and gasped, recognizing his intention. That intent and destination was her proud and throbbing clit. The tip of his tongue poked at it, she moaned.
“Daaaaddddyyyy.”
Such a marvelous thing, ever so slightly harder than the flesh it was nestled in. And so sensitive! His little terrorist shook like a leaf at the first lick. It was the center of her center and he closed his lips around it with great relish. The little nubbin of nerves was like a pearl of sweetness and flavor; more sugary or spicy than any Promenade treat. Silco inhaled deeply as he began to lash at it with his tongue. Jinx screamed and a hand smacked against the side of his head, holding him in place. Not that he had any inclination of stopping.
He pressed against her and took the clit between his front teeth. Silco bit down, gently as it were, trapping it between his teeth. Then he began to lick as hard and as fast as he could. The response from Jinx was immediate. Garbled moans, fingernails tearing at his scalp and her cunt opening against the point of his chin. There could be no mercy now, he bit down harder and switched to sucking on her clit. One her nails pierced the skin at his temple and he knew she was close and that meant only one thing to the hungry old man.
Dessert.
Silco sucked harder, reached up around her and gripped the sides of her waist with both hands. He squeezed hard as she squirmed and screamed.
“DADDY I’M CUMMING!!!”
And so she did, Jinx howled as she came. Silco released her clit and moved his mouth down to her opening just in time. The bluenette squirted a stream of filmy white liquid all over his tongue. Silco gathered it up and swallowed, murmuring in a gastronome’s delight at the taste of her feminine ambrosia. Jinx grunted and groaned, rubbing her cunt all over his face, smearing her spend on his features. Better than brandy or Shimmer. Silco preened like a tom cat getting his chin scratched as she marked him. Jinx’s cum tasted like honey and blasting powder. It satiated and invigorated. Silco grunted and came himself. Like he too was a teenager in heat. His rampant cock spraying the sheets with cum. He hadn’t even been aware of how much he was grinding against the mattress.
The naked old man’s stomach was warm and full as the girl collapsed against the bed, panting. Silco got up on his hands and dragged himself up her body. The Chem-Baron crawled to the pillow pile at the headboard and eased down next to her. Jinx rolled over on top of him, rubbing her face against his salt-n-pepper chest hair as she wrapped her legs around his waist and ground her sopping wet cunt against his hip. The sweaty duo breathed in silence for a minute but Jinx loathed such peaceful afterglows and tapped his ribs as she yawned.
“What the fuck does filly miguin mean?”
“Hum?” Silco was feeling very languid at the moment; he almost didn’t respond but the tapping became tickling.
“What you said right before you went down to Jinx-Town!”
“Oh….Fille Mignon. Let me tell you.”
The naked old man reached out and grabbed her by the armpits, pulling the girl fully on top of him. Silco took a moment to admire her beauty. Janna, what a rose. He loved the half-dazed look on her face after she came.
“It’s Demacian, the old Frank dialect. Fille means daughter. And Mignon? Well that means several things.”
Silco lowered her down to his face and kissed her forehead, nose and lips with each description.
“Small. Dainty. Cute. In other words, you and your delicious cunt my dear.” Jinx giggled and blushed as he explained.
“Ooohhhh. Mr. Fancy Words thinks I’m cute and tasty huh? You can just say it normal! Durr!!!”
He rolled his eye at his impish blue morsel.
“I’ll try to remember that. Now….this old man needs to go to sleep.”
Jinx nodded and yawned, snuggling in close and nuzzling his neck.
“Works for me! Getting your box munched is better than guzzling cough syrup, I’m tired too.”
Silco wrapped his arms around his daughter, glad she would be staying the night.
He would be hungry again in the morning.
