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AlfredThere are three degrees to Alfred's hunger, each one growling deeper and deeper inside of him.Alfred in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
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The first degree is easiest to please, to the point where some say he indulges it senselessly. But why not? It's so easy to cure an empty stomach, to reward his tongue with nostalgic flavors.
Like the Oreo cookie, for example.
The Oreo is a true classic, and when he bites it in half, it tastes like glorious 1912. Crumbs fall into the folds of the sheet, but that's okay, there's enough of it dissolving in his mouth that the first hunger swallows greedily, satisfied.
The second degree is gluttonous too, though in a different sort of way. It clouds his brain and hunts for rhythm, drinking in the feel of damp skin sliding across his own, mouths locking and limbs entwining as naturally as trees in a forest.
You know, the sex thing.
This hunger needs, and his body happily fulfills. The rush that feeds it is superpowerful, but shuddering bones and churning blood aren't enough to fill t