Lily traced her finger down Eric’s vertical scar. It ran from just below his ribcage to just above where his pubic hair began, skirting around his navel as if it were a roundabout. Three months had passed since he’d had emergency surgery for a bowel obstruction and they were celebrating because, that day, he had regained his pre-operative weight again.

“Mmmm…it’s so good to have you well again,” she said.

Eric had fucked her brains out that night. Lily had come three times, squealing with pleasure as his cock drove deep inside her. Now they were lying naked on the bed, enjoying the post-coital glow and the joys of being young and naked together.

“Hey, can we try something?” he asked, casually, as if the idea had just occurred to him.

“Maybe! Depends on what it is!”

“Well, you know I think your body is good enough to eat!” and he blew a long raspberry on her shoulder, making Lily giggle.

“How would you feel about me eating something off you? It’s sort of a fantasy of mine.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Frozen ice cream?”

“No way!”

“Just kidding! I had jelly in mind? All you have to do is lie back and relax! And if there’s anything you’d like to try, just ask, yeah?”

Lily thought for a moment then, deciding it was harmless, agreed.

The red strawberry-flavoured jelly was soft and wet on her stomach as Eric smeared it across using his fingers. He ladled it onto her until her tummy resembled some grim wound from which cartoonishly bright blood was seeping out. When he’d got it all over her, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Then, reverently, he stooped down and began to suck the jelly off her. He pursed his lips, brushing her skin and sucking up the soft jelly.

Lily’s belly was soft and warm, fleshy but not flabby. Up close, when he had hoovered up the jelly, he saw that there were tiny, tiny hairs all across it. Eric kissed her and licked her with his tongue, jerking his penis with his hand.

“Oh, this is so fucking hot,” he whispered.

He saved her navel for last. Lingering above it, he took a deep sniff of her body then pressed his lips to her belly button and, with one firm suck, emptying it of red jelly. At once, his orgasm was approaching.

“Oh, God, I’m going to cum!” he said. Lily giggled, watching as he stood and positioned his cock an inch above her navel.

“Oh, I’m going to come on you, please, I want to come on you!”

“Sure, I guess,” said Lily who was finding it an increasingly weird experience, but not without it’s charm. It was hot seeing him jack off so frantically to her body.

Jerking hard, Eric squeezed his own balls, looked down at the soft, pale skin of her tummy and emptied his load into Lily’s navel. White cum overflowed the little dimple and ran down her stomach towards her thighs. Lily smiled, then reached for a tissue.

“That was amazing. Thank you for letting me do that!”

“What is it about my belly?” she asked, dabbing up his cum with a tissue.

“I guess it’s because mine is so…mutilated.”

“You spent ages kissing it when we were first together though.”

Eric was getting embarrassed.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Lily.”

She was right, though. His devotion to the female navel had increased dramatically since the surgery, but he’d always felt his eyes drawn to them.

Post hoc, ergo propter hoc, went the old maxim he had learned in philosophy class. B follows A so B was therefore caused by A? But it was a logical fallacy, his teacher had said. B may well have happened anyway.

Perhaps, in his case, it would be better phrased as post op, ergo propter op.

                                                                                                                        *

Eric gripped his cock firmly with his left hand, feeling the wet lubricant that covered his palm paint the shaft of his penis. The computer screen was just a few inches from his eyes, and he stared unblinking at the young women on it. One of them was Sara T., an old classmate whom he had tried, and failed, to bed. And the other one, whose skin was light brown, he did not know, but the hashtag told him her name was Ruth. They were dressed identically, in tight red shorts and red vests that exposed their bellies. “Club Atletisme Pallafols” said the uniform above their competitor numbers.

Eric was not, in truth, looking at Sara or Ruth. His eyes were focused like lasers on their navels. Flicking from one bare stomach to the other, he slowly jerked his penis, drinking in the shadowy realms where their umbilical cords had been. Sara’s navel he had seen before. Ruth’s was new to him. But he hadn’t chosen Sara or Ruth specifically. On any day, he just looked up the athletics clubs and picked a couple that he liked the look of.

And that was the beauty of his love of the female belly button. Every one was different! Some were round and deep. Some were shallow. Some were more crescent-shaped than round. Some looked curiously like the ‘at’ sign. Some stuck out. They didn’t, generally, do it for him, although he had seen ‘outies’ that he liked the sight of.

It was because of the stomach operation, he believed. Or at least that’s what he told himself. It wasn’t implausible, to be fair. His own belly had been mutilated by the surgeon’s knife. He had a cross cut into his guts, and although the stitches were out now, the scar tissue hadn’t faded, and the stomach hair was taking its time to grow back.

What could be more natural than for a scarred man to be attracted to pure, natural female bellies?

Fair enough, but the level of his drive to see them and fantasize about them was getting rather excessive, even he had to admit. Eric never watched pornography. It was enough for him to gaze longingly at the sight of a bare female belly.

He worried he was becoming obsessed. He’d spend hours at the beach bars, pretending to read but in reality, he was watching for the women wearing bikinis who would take a break from the beach and come to the bar for a drink or to use the bathroom. It only took a glance. A fleeting glimpse. He didn’t make the mistake of staring. He’d just look up oh so casually at the approaching woman and there it was. He drank in the sight of her navel for a second, then went back to his book. What could be more innocent?

Some days, he zoomed right in, but that tended to pixelate the picture too much. Today he did not. He applied a bit more lube, rubbed the bare tip, then jerked faster, glaring at Sara’s shiny white belly and Ruth’s brown one…cum sprayed out onto his own tummy. Delicious. Satisfied for the night, he went back to the Netflix tab.

He had learned his fetish had a name. It was called Alvinophilia. Alvinophilia, he read, was one of the commonest fetishes reported by men. Although it did leave open the question of which fetishes guys would not admit to, he was reassured that he was hardly alone.

Strange name, named for a guy named Alvin, maybe, or perhaps whoever named it agreed that the female navel was as cute as a little chipmunk. He was slightly embarrassed to have a fetish at all. But he consoled himself with the thought that there were much, much worse ones.

                                                                                                                        *

One day, Eric went out to town with some friends. They walked to the port district for drinks, an area he did not much frequent but he had heard there was excellent paella available so had taken no persuading to check it out. As the group of four walked together, chatting merrily away, Eric happened to notice a tattoo and piercings parlour. And in the shop window was a sign, “Tattoo artist wanted”. He frowned, losing the thread of the conversation as an idea popped into his head.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it?

                                                                                                                        *

“Hello, I’m enquiring about the job,” he said. He had returned alone the next day.

The guy’s arm was covered in tattoos,

“Do you have any experience?”

“No, but I’m keen to learn.”

“What makes you interested in this line of work?”

“Two things. The variety of people I’d get to meet. And the artistic side.”

Eric saw at once that his answer had impressed the man. He wondered what the boss would think if he said,

“It’s because I’d get to see hundreds if not thousands of tummy buttons. And possibly touch them, if the job includes piercing!”

The man asked a few questions. Eric learned that the job did indeed include piercings. The boss said he’d be in touch when he’d made his decision.

Two days later, he got the job. There would be two training sessions and then he could start.

                                                                                                                        *                                                                                                 

“First, you have to clean the site with an antiseptic wipe. Then, you apply some numbing cream. Leave that on for a few minutes. Then slide the needle about an inch in in the direction chosen by the client. When the needle is out, apply the piercing quickly, clean the wound and apply more anti-septic cream. Hey presto! One pierced navel!”

“Is there aftercare?”

“Yes. They should keep the piercing in for three weeks and wash it carefully every day. If there is any swelling or bleeding, they should consult a doctor. Now, Ms. Lucy is ready. Let’s give it a try!”

Ms. Lucy was a dummy with a foam belly. Eric carefully followed the instructions, although he’d seen it done on YouTube. In fact, he had jerked off to an example piercing on YouTube. He could hardly believe that soon, he’d be piercing them daily.

“Very good!” said the parlour owner, “You are a natural!”

                                                                                                                        *

Anna was nineteen. She was tall and rake-thin. She wore blue jeans, a blouse and a black leather jacket. Her hair was long, brown and artificially curled. Her face was beautiful.

“Hi! I’m Eric. I’ll be doing your piercing today. Navel, is it?”

“Yes please.”

“Just relax. It won’t hurt much, I promise!”

“Thank you!”

And with that, Anna lifted up her blouse. And there it was. A little dimple of a thing. She hardly had one at all. It was more a slight impression on the skin.

“So, I’ll just add some sterilizer.”

He took the wet wipe and, his fingers almost trembling with desire, Eric rubbed it around her belly. He was desperate to touch it with his flesh, to press into her button and stroke it with his fingers, but he was smart enough to restrain himself and not to creep her out. When the site was clean, he added the numbing cream. While they waited for it to work, he asked,

“Can I interest you in a tattoo while you are here?”

“Ha! Not today, thanks! I had my leg done. But my boyfriend doesn’t like it, so I said no more!”

“If you’d like a second opinion from a professional, I’d be happy to give you one! An opinion, that is!”

Anna laughed and said, “Ok.”

Eric knew he couldn’t move a muscle as she pulled her trousers down to expose her thigh. There was a tattoo of a spider web and a spider in the middle. It wasn’t very good, and it didn’t suit the vibe she gave off, but it was hot seeing her thighs.

‘That is badass!” he pronounced admiringly.

“Thanks!” she said, giggling.

“That should be enough time for the numbing cream to work,” he told her.

Eric reached for the needle. Anna’s belly was so lovely, it almost felt a shame to desecrate it. Eric, on some level, felt he’d be breaching the rules of the garden of Eden by desecrating the perfection of God’s work. But she was the paying customer. He pierced her skin, watching a thin trickle of blood run out, threaded the needle through her flesh, and then pulled it out the other side.

That night, in his bed, he closed his eyes and pictured himself kissing that navel. He whispered,

“Oh, Anna, you have the loveliest tummy!”

“Would you like to fuck it?” she said.

“Yes!”

Eric pictured himself pressing his cock into Anna’s belly button. And, extraordinary to see, his penis was carving her a new, deeper one. One even more pleasing to the eye than the one she had. Just a little deeper…

“I’ve always wanted someone to fill it with cum,” he imagined her saying.

“I will, sweetheart. I will.”

In his mind’s eye, he pictured her sat in the piercing chair, her navel alluringly exposed, and himself standing over her, looking down and jerking furiously. In just a few moments, he came, and his semen filled her button like white wine into a cup. Eric hesitated for a moment, then dived down there and sucked up his own cum from her belly like a parched man sucking water.

‘Dude,’ he thought to himself when he was calm and the room was still again, ‘that is messed up!’

                                                                                                                        *

He practiced his craft carefully, and soon the boss was sending him every navel piercing that came through the door. It was like a dream come true. He could indulge his sexual love of the navel, and each night he carried memories of the ones he had seen and touched that day.

There was Marta, who wanted a ring in hers. She told him she had a boyfriend, and he imagined doing to Marta what he had imagined doing to Anna. Marta’s navel was a T shape.

There was Clara, whose navel was the embodiment of perfection to Eric. Clara’s was deep and a perfect circle.

There was Vega, who seemed ok when she arrived. But when she was in the chair and the operation was half done, she fell asleep. Only then did Eric smell the alcohol on her breath. Vega’s belly button was a rare shape, a kind of spiral.

There was Mariona, who came with her brother, who got his ears done. Mariona’s navel was lovely, a sort of crescent moon shape.

There was Julia, who told him she’d had kids. He looked at that navel and imagined her naked, lying back and her husband kissing every inch of her. 

There were dozens of them. Hundreds, probably.

Eric gradually learned to do tattoos. Occasionally, he was asked to pierce a cock. That was when he used the blue rubber gloves.

But he never used them to pierce a woman’s belly. He’d wash his hands, sure. He’d disinfect with the wipe. But who in their right mind would deny themselves the physical touch of skin on skin on a woman’s most beautiful, sacred spot?...

                                                                                                                        *

He found himself counting the number of navels he had seen on any particular day, walking down the street, at work or on the beach. In an ironic twist, Eric grew to dislike pierced ones, for they concealed the essential beauty of the natural belly button. If it wasn’t for the fact that he got to see and touch so many, he would have quit. It was only a summer gig, anyway.

Some nights, he spent the night at Lily’s, or hosted her, and they made energetic love. But on the nights when he was alone, he closed his eyes, thought back on the navels he had seen that day and, with the aid of lubricant and sometimes a quick Instagram search, indulge in his fetish alone, shamelessly and so urgent with desire that he felt he must surely rip his very penis from his body.

                                                                                                                        *

The next time they met for sex, Eric went down on Lily. He flicked his tongue against her clitoris and ran it down the slit between her lips. He kissed every inch of her vagina and took time to work up her arousal. He did it to thank her for accepting his fetish and not judging him. She tasted so good between her legs. He breathed in her scent and felt to folds of her skin around her vagina on his tongue, and he rejoiced to be alive as only one who has cheated death can do.  

He’d have stayed there all night if she’d asked him to, but at last she asked for his dick.

Eric was getting better and better at maintaining his erection and controlling his orgasms. He aimed his shaft to stimulate her clitoris and she lifted her legs high up. That night, for the first time, she crossed her legs behind his neck, which thrilled them both. Eric looked down at her face, intrigued by the facial expressions she made when she was approaching orgasm. He enjoyed the sight of her breasts jiggling up and down and, just below, her button, like the remnants of some flagpole that had been planted in the centre of the world.

When he’d screwed Lily for fifteen minutes, she indicated that she wanted to change. Eric pulled out, but instead of waiting for her to move to her hands and knees or to ride him, he dived back between her legs for another good lick. And this time, she was so close that he pushed her over the edge, and she came, oozing juices out of her pussy that he licked up eagerly.

Lily rode his cock next, bouncing up and down, rocking back and forth, reaching behind to keep her long hair from covering her face. And now Eric had full sight of that gorgeous belly, and he rubbed it with his palm and tickled around her button with his fingers and it was all he could do not to come…

At last, with Lily on her hands and knees and Eric’s hands grasping her buttocks tightly, his orgasm filled the condom, and his cries filled the air. He came harder than he ever had before during sex and bent over her form to kiss her naked back along the spine.

After they were done, they spooned, Lily’s ass pressed against his cock and his belly to her spine.

“Just so you know, I think I’m going to quit the parlour,” he told her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m going to look for something a bit more…normal.”

“Ok,” she said, secretly relieved. She wasn’t wild about him getting to handle all those pretty young women.

Eric did not tell her the real reason he was quitting. He had realized his obsession had gone too far and was warping his mind. And at that moment, feeling her warm body against his, feeling his penis tingle after orgasm, he realized he did want to be with Lily, and a part of that was doing her the respect of being mentally as well as physically faithful.

They were silent for a time, then Lily said softly,

“Eric, you know how I let you eat jelly off me?”

He did remember. He’d had several orgasms jerking off to the memory.

“Would you do something for me, please?”

“Sure!”

“It’s roleplay. I’ll bring something over next time.”

“Oh, intriguing!”

He could hardly wait to see what it was. Policeman and criminal? Fireman and damsel in distress? Teacher and student, perhaps? In fact, was she going to confess a BDSM inclination, and bring a cane to the party?

But as they were snuggling, some news was winging its way to both of their email accounts that would change everything.

The next morning, Eric found that he had been accepted for the teacher training course at the University of Girona. Lily, meanwhile, had won a place to study archaeology in far-off Oslo. She hadn’t expected to get in, but now that she had, a reckoning was approaching. Would they try long distance, give up on their choices, or call it a day?