Tastefully Done | By : SKC Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 9016 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Story Summery: “It’s Charlie to the rescue after Willy Wonka lands himself in a very “sticky” situation. But although Charlie’s intentions are noble, his hormones have other ideas . . .”
“Tastefully Done”
By SKC
When Charlie Bucket was called away from his latest invention by an Oompa Loompa claiming that Willy Wonka had been involved in an “accident” in the main Inventing Room, the apprentice chocolatier had no idea what to expect. “Accidents” that occurred within Willy Wonka’s Inventing Room varied immensely from everyday matters such as bumps and bruises to the more extreme such as explosions or near nuclear meltdowns (which Wonka was always proud to say had only *nearly* happened just the one time). In any case, Charlie was still terribly worried and the look on the Oompa Loompa’s face was certainly doing nothing to reassure him. Charlie simply didn’t know what he would ever do without his beloved mentor. The marvelous man meant everything to him . . . everything.
As Charlie tore open the circular door to the Inventing Room, he braced himself for the worst. But *nothing* could have prepared him for the scene of absolute chaos that met his eyes. The Inventing Room looked as if it had been struck by an explosion. A very *colourful* explosion. Covering the entirety of the Inventing Room, from it’s immaculate walls and ceiling to the polished silver machinery, was a gooey bright pink substance that hung and clung and spread out over the room like a massive bubble gum spider’s web.
And it appeared as though the spider had caught a fly for Charlie could now see, that spread out and hopelessly stuck on one of the back walls was none other than the illustrious Willy Wonka.
Charlie immediately ran to the aid of the hapless inventor and his eyes widened in surprise . . . and then *arousal* as he took in the true extent of the inventor’s predicament. Wonka was spreadeagled with his back to the wall, his arms and legs entangled and held fast by winding ropes of pink. The glossy substance had seemingly curled around his torso pulling open his scarlet frock coat and had inadvertently lifted up his vest and paisley shirt as well so that a flash of milky skin was exposed on the candyman’s abdomen. Charlie followed the same spiraling piece of pink as it made it’s way down Wonka’s hip to wrap snugly against the junction of pelvis and leg.
Now, it was no great secret to anyone, save to the great chocolatier himself, that Charlie had fallen hopelessly in love the eccentric man, and to see the “prim” chocolatier like this now . . . The whole scene was like something from a fantasy, in fact Charlie recalled having one such fantasy of his own that had been very similar to this (although in his version, the location had been far more private and Wonka had been wearing far less).
“Oh! *There* you are, Charlie! My dear boy, am I ever glad to see you!”
Charlie tore his eyes away from his mentor’s lower extremities with a blush and quickly regained a far more appropriate line of vision by looking into the man’s brightly smiling face instead.
“Y-yeah, it’s great to see you too, Mr. Wonka but um . . . what *happened* in here?”
For someone helplessly stuck to a wall by pink goo, Wonka was exceedingly cheerful.
“Oh, it was the most silliest of things really, a real novice mistake to make (*giggle*). You see, I put the Y to the C and the U to the P and the C to the X and . . . well, you know what happened then, so here I am now.”
Charlie sweatdropped. He hadn’t a clue what Wonka meant and sincerely hoped that it wouldn’t be necessary to have to ask his mentor either. It always seemed to either annoy or embarrass the chocolatier when people questioned his sometimes “unique” train of thought. But, thankfully today, Charlie would be spared from that discomfort for Wonka suddenly piped up again.
“But, I’m afraid that I altered the mixture this time. You see, I’ve been working on an additive that will make all of my candy imperishable! It won’t ever disappear or be damaged in the slightest until someone eats it! Neat huh?”
Charlie listened intently to all of this, trying to figure out what this new information had to do with the current situation.
“So that means . . .”
Wonka’s demeanor suddenly tensed, and his smile seemed strained.
“Ah . . . (*nervous giggle*) I-it means that y-you’ll have to um . . . (*ahem*) have t-to, heh, eatitoff.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll have to what?”
Wonka cleared his throat. “Y-you’ll have to eatit off.”
“I still didn’t quite catch-”
“EAT it,” Then quieter, “(Ahem) I mean, y-you’ll have to . . . eat . . . it . . off.”
Charlie was tempted to pinch himself. This *had* to be one of his fantasies. Surely an opportunity such as this couldn’t be real. But this certainly felt real, and Wonka sure did *look* real, and the situation was certainly odd enough to be real, his humble brain would never have come up with such a colourful scenario. This *had* to be real. Charlie suddenly found himself fighting a nose bleed at this revelation.
“B-But what about . . . what about the O-Oompa Loompas? C-couldn’t . . . couldn’t they have-”
Wonka was insistently shaking his head (as best as he could of course, with part of his cheek stuck to the goo).
“No, no! My dear Charlie have you not noticed that there is not one single Oompa Loompa in here? I’m afraid that this is “Waffy Taffy” that I’m stuck in rather than “Laffy Taffy.” (*sigh*) The Oompa Loompa’s are terribly allergic to it for reasons that I’ve yet to fathom I’m afraid.”
A quick glance around confirmed that Wonka was indeed correct. There was not a single Oompa Loompa to be found.
Wonka shook his head sadly. “ It’s really too bad, it’s quite . . . *delectable.*”
Wonka’s chosen emphasis did nothing to quell Charlie’s already quite impressive erection and the young man couldn’t help but wonder about how strong the seams of his tight fitted trousers actually were. He just prayed that his mentor’s gaze didn’t happen to drift downwards for Charlie didn’t think it would be possible for the other man *not* to notice.
“Charlie? Ah . . . are ya ok?”
*No* . . . and *yes.* Charlie didn’t know how to respond to such a question because he was both terrified of the prospect of being so intimately close to his mentor and yet was desperately *eager* for the closeness and (if he could help it) *contact* as well. But his fear was going to have to take a back seat or Wonka was never going to get off that wall . . . besides, it seemed as though his teenage hormones where going to win anyway.
“Y-yes, . . . yes of course! I ah . . . w-was just wondering . . . just wondering w-where I should um . . . start.”
Wonka seemed to be a little apprehensive about the situation as well and he smiled nervously at Charlie.
“Um . . . w-well I’d say the ah . . . the *arms* would probably be a ah . . . appropriate?”
Charlie grinned nervously in return. If there was anything appropriate about this situation, then Charlie failed to see it.
“Um . . .o-ok . . .”
He stepped closer to his mentor so that he was level with him and realized that with Wonka’s slight elevation off of the floor, they were now of a same height once more. Charlie vividly remembered the day that he had first noticed that were of a same height, it had been several years prior and he had been staring into Wonka’s mirthful eyes. That had also been the first day that he had realized that what he had been feeling for his mentor was love. Of course that day in turn had led to the first night that he had ever touched himself; gasping for Wonka’s presence as he had come with a desperate shudder into his own hand . . .
Charlie suddenly noticed a blush graze Wonka’s cheeks and he realized that he had been staring at the chocolatier the entire time he had been “reminiscing.” He blushed as well and nodded towards Wonka’s right arm to indicate his intentions. Wonka nodded in return and Charlie looked away from his teacher’s face to move into position in front of the man’s arm.
For a moment he simply stared at the appendage and coils of taffy that surrounded it before he decided to start with a piece that had wrapped itself around Wonka’s gloved hand. And trying his best to remain calm, he hesitantly moved his head to take a tiny nibble of the taffy against Wonka’s palm.
He was surprised to discover that despite the bright pink colour of the taffy, it tasted *spicy,* like dark chocolate infused with cinnamon or something else that was indescribable . . . It was, simply put, *hot.* The texture of it was quite incredible as well as it seemed to “glide” sensually against his tongue like liquid satin. All in all it was quite an erotic experience and Charlie had to idly wonder just *who* Wonka had intended to buy this particular confection.
He took another bite, this time allowing his lips to brush against the smooth latex of Wonka’s violet glove. Another bite followed, almost instantly, and he pressed even closer against the hand wanting to feel his mentor’s warmth against his mouth . . .
Charlie stole a careful glance towards Wonka and saw that his mentor was gazing blankly at the floor and away from him. He took a steadying breath as he spied out a sliver of pale flesh where the glove ended on Wonka’s elegant wrist. Did he dare? Thus far, Wonka didn’t seem to notice that anything “unscrupulous” was taking place . . . Charlie licked his lips. He would probably never get another chance like this. Was he *really* going to pass up his one opportunity to touch, to *taste* Wonka’s bare skin?
Charlie carefully moved from Wonka’s hand to hover over his wrist in one fluid movement. His hesitation was fleeting now with such a rare treat before him and he descended upon the slight sliver of candy there with an eagerness that surprised even him. Charlie had to stifle a moan as his bare skin touched Wonka’s for the first time and he pressed helplessly against it even as he heard Wonka gasp. Wonka took another, even sharper breath as Charlie grazed his teeth over the flesh there, feeling pathetically lost in the sensation and pulse of the soft skin.
Another quick glance at Wonka confirmed that the chocolatier had most certainly noticed Charlie’s ministrations as his eyes were squeezed shut and he appeared to be trembling ever so slightly. Charlie’s eyes locked onto a piece of taffy that had entwined itself around Wonka’s swanlike throat and he slowly glided up Wonka’s arm, taking small bites as he traveled the length of it, drawn to the flash of white like a moth to flame. . .
Somewhere, buried deeply in the back of his hormone invaded mind, Charlie knew that he should probably be feeling guilty about taking advantage of his dear mentor’s vulnerability. But the soft whimper the beautiful man emitted between parted ruddy lips as Charlie’s warm mouth nuzzled against Wonka’s proof of masculine throat, was all the encouragement that he needed.
Wonka’s scent invaded Charlie’s senses at this close proximity and the young man couldn’t help but tremble himself as it was reconfirmed just *who* it was that he was now pressed against. But something desperate, yet bold had consumed him now that he was finally touching that which had been denied to him for so long. This was his idol . . . and Charlie was finally getting his chance to worship him.
Charlie’s mouth followed the path of candy up Willy Wonka’s angular jaw and then to an exposed earlobe. Wonka was trembling quite noticeably now and the sound of his quickened breathing was sending waves of torturous desire straight to Charlie’s straining erection. His hips moved instinctively closer to Wonka’s as Charlie’s half lidded eyes roved towards a spot of pink that graced his mentor’s blushing cheek . . .
Charlie contemplated his next intended action. If he stopped now, the little nips and circumstantial kisses could perhaps be explained away. But if he went through with what he intended to do now, there would be no way that he could to take it back . . .
A sudden ache from his trousers gave him the push he needed. He parted his lips to slowly glide a curl of pink tongue across the milky skin from Wonka’s jaw to the candy maker’s prominent brow, gently licking off the sweet taffy.
Wonka’s eyes flew open and for the first time since Charlie’s bold actions began, actually *looked* at his protégé.
Charlie locked onto Wonka’s gaze and carefully studied the mesmerizing amethyst eyes before him, trying to steal a glimpse into his mentor’s thoughts. They were widened now in what mostly appeared to be shock but Charlie was not surprised to also see the apprehension drawn there as well. The twin orbs were like some bottomless ethereal sea whose depths were now clouded with shadows of doubt and fear.
Charlie’s heart quailed at the knowledge of being the cause of this turmoil, but he refused to back down now as he silently conveyed all of the love and warmth that he had for this amazing man in his own pleading and genuine gaze.
At first, Charlie was beginning to believe that his efforts were all for not when something finally began to change within the enchanting iris’s; the clouds were dissipating, rolling away to reveal the glimmering and glowing depths of the beautiful seas below and Charlie felt his heart stop for he knew that he was now a witness into the very recesses of Wonka’s soul.
“C-Charlie?”
And with that barely audible whisper from his mentor’s lips, Charlie knew that he had received his permission. His lips brushed against the other man’s ever so gently at first, just light tickles of skin on skin as their eyes studied one another. Before long they had found how to fit the pieces together and the kiss grew harder, deeper and *hungry.* Charlie moaned deep in his throat as Wonka pressed back against him, returning the kiss with equal fervor and a moan of his own.
Charlie had never kissed anyone before, but he was certain that no one else could possibly taste as sweet as Willy Wonka. He needed more of the taste and so he brushed his tongue gently against the delicious lips, sweetly begging for entrance. There was only a slight hesitation before the lips parted and Charlie wasted no time in delving his tongue into the warm and yielding mouth, sweeping over the sensitive palette and eliciting a whimper from the older man.
The pressure from Charlie’s desire was quickly becoming unbearable but Charlie did his best to ignore it. He wanted this moment to be all about Wonka; he wanted to pleasure his mentor, please him, make him feel *incredible.* After all, he always strived to impress his teacher in everything he did . . . and this would be no different.
He reluctantly pulled away from the kiss causing Wonka to whine in protest and strain against his candy bonds in an attempt to follow his retreating heir. Unable to completely deny his mentor, Charlie gently nibbled on the flushed lips before pulling away once more with a quick kiss and reassuring wink.
Wonka’s eyes widened before a slow, shy smile tugged at his lips and a gentle blush tinted his cheeks. Charlie felt a new rush of desire. His mentor must have been more savvy to this situation than he had thought.
It didn’t seem as though Wonka was about to protest his intentions so Charlie decided to take his explorations of this beautiful landscape . . . elsewhere. He began a slow descent down Wonka’s chest, nibbling at various pieces of taffy as he went, until he eventually arrived at the exposed pale flesh of Wonka’s defined abdomen.
He moved closer to the skin, allowing only his breath to brush against it as he lifted his gaze towards the elder man to see his reaction to this. He was surprised and then thoroughly aroused to see that Wonka was gazing down at him with lusty, half lidded eyes. More savvy to this situation, *indeed.*
There was no hesitation this time as Charlie skimmed his tongue over the flesh, causing Wonka to stifle a gasp and attempt to arch into the touch. Charlie wanted to experience the sensation of the skin further and his trembling fingers gently brushed against the lifted hem of the patterned shirt before slipping under to smooth over the skin beneath. The sensation was revelatory to Charlie and apparently it was for Wonka as well as the elder man gasped the younger’s name at the appraising touch.
Charlie’s mouth had traveled downwards during it’s progression across the milky surface and he slid his hands down Wonka’s torso to rest on narrow hips as he eyed the tempting piece of taffy that rested against the even more tempting inside thigh and crotch.
Charlie felt Wonka begin to tremble once more as his teeth grazed his mentor’s hip, over lower belly and finally lower to nuzzle against the impressive bulge that was a testament to his efforts.
“C-Charlie!”
Wonka hissed between clenched teeth even as Charlie felt the bulge against his cheek swell. It was now or never . . .
Charlie’s lifted his head once more and his fingers drifted across the midriff to rest against the hem of Wonka’s trousers. His fingers fiddled with the hem and he cast his eyes back to Willy. This situation was about to become much bigger than he alone could be responsible for . . .
“Mr. Wonka,” Charlie’s voice was thick with lust and his breathing had suddenly become ragged, “Mr. Wonka . . . I . . . I need your permission . . . I can’t . . . I *won’t* without it.”
Willy tensed at the sudden request and for a moment he simply stared into the younger man’s eyes. But then he averted his eyes, his form slumping in defeat. When he spoke, it was in a sorrowful whisper that hinted of bitter self hatred
“I . . . I can’t do that, Charlie.”
Charlie’s eyes widened. He had always been aware of the barriers that Wonka had placed around himself, but he had always assumed that they had been meant to keep others out. And perhaps that was their original intention, but apparently somewhere along the way they had also begun to keep Wonka *in.*
The look in Wonka’s eyes was pleading and Charlie suddenly realized what he would have to do. If he couldn’t break Wonka’s barriers, then he would steal his way around them.
“If you can’t give me permission, then . . . then tell me this instead . . . would you *enjoy* it if I continued?”
Wonka blinked several times as he pondered the question. After what seemed like an eternity to Charlie, a slow and genuine smile spread it’s way across Willy Wonka’s ageless face and his fathomless eyes glistened with pride in his heir’s cleverness.
“Why . . . yes, my dear Charlie . . . I would.”
Charlie beamed back at him and laid a gentle kiss on the skin just above the top button of Wonka’s trousers, his eyes never leaving his mentor’s. When his eyes *did* look away it was to turn and survey the intricate buttons of Wonka’s fly to determine his next course of action.
As his fingers reached for the first button, he suddenly realized how badly his hand was shaking. It was true that this whole event was more than a little overwhelming but he was going to have to stay in control. He couldn’t appear weak in front of Wonka, not now. Not now, that he had miraculously exposed such an intimate and vulnerable layer of Wonka’s psyche. Charlie took a deep breath and steadied hands. He would be strong, and this beautiful man would be his strength.
His fingers deftly danced over each button until the dark trousers were open and only a thin layer of soft cloth separated him from his ultimate goal. With slightly unsteady hands he reached inside of the hem of the underwear and slid both the undergarment and trousers down over Wonka’s recently freed hips.
Wonka gasped as his straining arousal was freed from it’s confinement and for a moment all Charlie could do was admire this very private place of Wonka’s body. He had never seen another man’s member besides his own and he marveled at the differences from his. Wonka’s was longer and thinner and for a lack of a better word, *prettier* than his. Charlie may have been virginal, but he wasn’t helplessly so and despite being different, Charlie was pretty damned sure that they gave their pleasure in the same way. And so, with only another moment’s hesitation, he wrapped a hand around the base of the shaft and applying ample pressure, pulled up in a long languid stroke.
The effect this had on his mentor was instantaneous as he arched into the touch with a sharp cry, only to be followed by deep moans as Charlie repeated the gratifying action in pulse.
Charlie was reveling in the feel of the smooth organ in his hands but now he was consumed with the desire to see how his mentor would react to him replacing his hand with his mouth. Charlie halted his rhythm, (much to Wonka’s complaint) and held the shaft steady to take one small lick of now the weeping tip.
Wonka hissed, and strained at his bonds as he tried to move into the touch.
“ . . . Ch-Charlie . . . p-please . . .”
Charlie smiled eagerly. He wasn’t about to deny Wonka anything today. He licked his lips and gingerly placed them against the blushing tip before slowly taking Wonka into his mouth, working against the muscles of his throat as he took the enlarged shaft all the way in.
“Oh my deeeeeeear boy . . .” Wonka rolled his head back in ecstacy as Charlie ascended the length nearly to the sensitive tip and then engulfed him once more.
Charlie wrapped one arm around Wonka’s hips, drawing him closer as the other hand fondled his mentor’s apparently *very* sensitive sac. . . . In and out, in and out, in and out and Wonka’s groans became more desperate now as he moved against his heir and Charlie quickened his rhythm, knowing that his mentor was very close.
Two more strokes was all that was needed before Wonka shuddered and arched against him, gasping his heir’s name as came. Charlie struggled to swallow the surprisingly sweet liquid that flowed over his tongue and down his throat, not wanting to lose a single drop. He withdrew and smacked his lips. Forget candy. They could retire tomorrow by slapping a label on Wonka.
Wonka was hanging loosely now, breathing deeply, with eyes half lidded and a contented smile on his face. *Charlie* on the other hand was still sporting a now painful erection that he desperately needed to take care of. Strange how he should feel shy now after everything that he had just done, but then again, it wasn’t as if he had ever had an audience when he touched himself . . .
Charlie was aware of Wonka watching him under hooded lids but with a sudden jerk from his constricted organ, he finally, blushingly undid his own trousers to cautiously expose his own weeping length, and shyly began stroking himself.
Wonka stirred at this and tried to gesture for him to stop. “N-no, Charlie . . . Charlie . . . let me . . . please let me . . .” He pulled at his bonds for emphasis.
Charlie halted his strokes even as he felt a new flood of desire at the request. He fumbled towards the taffy that bound his mentor’s arms, taking quick and decisive bites of the candy. And then the arms were free, one coming to instantly wrap around his waist as the other *Dear God* wrapped tightly around his erection to caress it with smooth, torturously delicious friction.
Charlie whimpered helplessly as he fell against his mentor, his legs no longer able to support him. He rolled his hips into the inviting form and moaned deliriously into a velvet shoulder as the gloved hand of Willy Wonka expertly kneaded and stroked him into a weeping mass of lust.
Charlie gave one last thrust as Wonka twirled up on his erection and he came with a desperate cry for his mentor, clinging to the owner of said name for dear life as wave after wave of ecstacy was pumped from him and into the slicked hand of Willy Wonka.
Afterwards, Charlie could do nothing but hang limply in his teacher’s arms, physically and emotionally spent. He hardly noticed anything at all besides the warm and surprisingly strong embrace. He certainly didn’t notice when several obviously *un-allergic* Oompa Loompas peeked around a piece of machinery with a giggle. And he most certainly didn’t notice the wink that Wonka gave them in return.
But it was just as well. Willy Wonka would always have his secrets, and he would make damn sure that what Charlie didn’t know, would *always* be good for him.
~WW~
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