HopelessRomantic79

Things that Arouse/Amuse me

2011-01-20T20:41:00.001-08:00

Men!

2011-01-20T20:29:00.000-08:00

"If you want, I can just do you in the ass."

"Come on, let me fuck your mouth, just don't bite me."

"If you turn over, I'm going to molest your ass."

"I know you've seen porn, you should know how to do this."

"Why don't you get more excited?"

"Oh you are a horny bastard... I just met you 20 minutes ago and look where my hand is now..."

"You didn't get me all the way but you tried."

"What you're doing is weird."

"It could have been worse."

"You're broken."

Why do I let them talk to me like that?? I've only been with two guys. "Alan Rickman" and "The Moron." And yet both of them were so hurtful. I know they're not right. I know I'm not broken. But wow, the more I think about it, the more frustrated with myself I get. I let myself be touched by idiots, I let them do whatever they wanted just because no one else ever had, and then I get to suffer the indignity of listening to them treat me like crap. And I don't even say anything in response. Like my hormones make me deaf. I'm not a feminist per say... but I know what they said isn't right.

They said other things.

"Your lips are amazing."

"I'm in love with your tits."

"You're so soft."

"I don't know what it is you're doing, but it feels sooooo good..."

So I can't be all that bad. Deep down I know I won't be a tragic lover. I just need experience. Time. And someone who doesn't degrade me in the meantime.

Buble

2011-01-17T20:41:00.000-08:00

I flove him.

More Rant

2011-01-17T20:19:00.000-08:00

It seems like I need another round of ranting, it's been too long since I've vented, and I need my ulcer to stop hurting again. Holding it in is no good for me, and it seems better to scream at the general noise of the internet rather than at a real live person.

Less personal.

Plus I can say the word "fuck" a lot without being yelled at by the parental units.

Which is a good enough place to start as any: my parents. I love them, I know I do. Just sometimes it's hard to. My mom especially. Today my dad pretty much summed it all up today: "Your mother is the definition of inexplicable." She really is. There's no rhyme, no reason, no logic, no anything that makes sense. The dogs are her life, I don't even think she cares about her marriage anymore, so long as she gets to spend my dad's money and save dogs. She doesn't do anything, she barely leaves the house. I'm scared she going to become one of those Hoarders people, like she'll start collecting pets and talking to herself and not washing her hair or something. It scares the crap out of me, and I get so sick of the dogs, and this house, and no one ever wanting to come over because of her. I mean, I had guys in HS tell me they wouldn't date me because of her. I'm terrified that's how it will always be.

Then there's Moron. I'll call him Moron because that's what he is. I made a bad choice. I could have stopped his advances, I didn't have to let him feel me up. That's all my fault. I didn't have to do anything with him and I let it happen and I didn't like it and I can't believe I let it happen. I can't even say I was drunk this time. At least I knew his name. But now he won't leave me alone, and it's not like I want him around- even if he's the only guy that's ever wanted me.

I'm just terrified I'll be alone forever. No, Moron's not an option, but it terrifies me that I'm 24 and just as alone as when I was half my age. That I've still never had a relationship. That there's something fundamentally wrong with me and I'll never find him/her. I want a family, I want kids, I want to lose this v-card and have a life that involves human touch. I literally stumble through my life, I cry a lot, I'm simply not happy. It's like I imagine this ghost, the one I'm supposed to be with, I can feel where they're supposed to be beside me but I reach out and they're just not there... That probably sounds really crazy. I'm sure it is.

I have been happy before. I know England was where I was happiest. I also know that there have been people who made me happy, then decided that they didn't want me anymore. That I wasn't good enough. That I'm not worthy. And I still don't know why. And I still cry about it because I think I deserve happiness. I just don't know where to find it.

I want to move. Get out of here. Leave this place because I feel like I'm choking. I can't support myself, and all I want is to be independent. In Hawaii I wanted to die, but at least I was taking care of myself. I was literally at poverty level, but I'm not much better now and I feel like an insignificant person. My coworker says she wants a baby by 25 because she feels like she'd have lived life enough by then, fulfilled. I say, just wait honey. By the time you're my age, you'll feel like you've never done a goddamn thing. I have a degree. I've traveled a bit. And that's all I can say for myself. It feels like nothing. I feel tiny. I feel so unimportant. Nothing amazing has happened to me. How could I ever feel accomplished??!! I live with my parents, I live in my goddamn home town that's the crappiest place on the planet, there's nothing here for me. Nothing.

I feel so lost. I feel broken and alone. I was listening to Crash and Burn today, you know, by Savage Garden, and every word like... spoke to me. I was the "you" in the song, the one crashing and burning. Literally falling apart at the seams.

I need my friends. Where are they?? Too goddamn far away. I can't take this anymore. I don't know how I even make myself get up in the morning, I just don't. I do, because there is still this optimistic part of me that believes I really will be OK somehow. But sometimes the clouds around my head are so dark I can't see the light, there's no future just right now, and right now sucks. So bad.

So alone.

Just........ AHHHHH

YUM

2010-09-14T23:16:00.000-07:00

I get so confused....

2010-09-14T23:12:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I don't know where I'm going.

I know what I want to do. I have goals. I have dreams. I have aspiration and ability.

But do I know how to get there?

Will I ever know?

Fuck.

Kiss

2010-09-04T23:08:00.001-07:00

I want it. I want you.

What must it be like to be desired? To have the words, the flirtations, the promises, become real?

My skin itches for it. The touch. The first kiss. The first REAL experience that has meaning and I remember forever instead of a drunken mistake with a guy I barely knew the name of.

I wanna kiss you. See where it goes.

When Will It Be Me?!

2010-09-04T22:43:00.000-07:00

Why does it hurt so much? Why can't I make it stop?

It feels like everyone has a someone. I never had a best friend, I mean, I thought I did, but even then, it was never like a team. Me & ____. No, I never had that.

And the one time I had a relationship, it was broken, right from the start. She never loved me, I didn't really love her... it was a huge mistake.

And they physical. Oh God, I want the physical. I want it so bad I literally ache. I've been ready for so long and it just never happened for me. I'm scared it never will. Realistically I know it will, but when the parting words from the guy I (nearly) lost my virginity to were "It could have been worse," it doesn't do much for your confidence.

I want to be The One. The Best Friend. The Lover. The Best.

2010-09-03T19:53:00.000-07:00

I like his face.

Whoa, I'm Alone

2010-09-03T18:58:00.000-07:00

There few things worse than a Friday night. To some, it symbolizes freedom, and they get together with their friends and hang out and drink and dance and have fun. Or just hang out on the couch, have sex, go to bed with their favorite sleeping buddy...

Or you're like me. And you go home to your computer and your parents and your dogs, and you try to reassure yourself that you're working to save money so you can move. So that hopefully you can find those things in another place. A sleeping buddy. A friend to laugh with. A life.

Part of me knows it's my fault. I'm shy, kinda scared to put myself out there, fearful of rejection. That's kind of how I've always been, and it's not helpful to my well-being. But I like people to like me, and there is nothing worse than that feeling of a person looking you up and down, sneering, and walking away. Just plain ignoring you because your friend looks better through beer goggles. I've never ever once felt attractive to anyone, and part of going out and having fun is having confidence in yourself, which is shoddy at best on my part.

Part of it is where I live, which is why I want to move so badly. I literally live in a one-stop light town (and it's not even a stop light...) and the town nearby doesn't have much more to offer but a one-night stand with a tourist and/or a local guy who bow hunts, has a tin of chew and 3 children with his high school sweetheart (who he's still married to). Trust me. I've gone out. That was the major demographic. That guy, and then the guy that does meth that I went to HS with.

I'd do anything to change it. I work and save as much as I can to make sure that I can just leave someday and be able to *finally* support myself. I want independence, for myself and from the circumstances I live with daily. I hate what I have become. And I don't want to just lay here and take it. I also know that I have made too many excuses and they have to stop... I need to be motivated!! Friends do not make themselves.

............................................................................................ AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

No More

2010-08-29T00:11:00.000-07:00

Dear A, HO & TF,

Yes. Our middle school nicknames that we gave each other when A and D were being buttheads and kept us out of everything. I know the meaning behind each one, and so do you.

How. The. Fuck. Dare. You????????????

What in the HELL did I ever do to you???????? Why have you essentially plunged a fucking knife in my heart?! Because you're a selfish bitch that has no heart?! I never would have said it if it weren't true. Fuck. You.

Do I mean nothing to you? Does the last 13 years mean NOTHING to you?! You were my BEST FRIEND and you fucking killed me.

You got married. Your life changed. I get that. But I have been there for you through HELL. Remember in high school? You almost died? Yeah. I was there for you. Through everything. Even wrote that damn paper for you that almost got us in trouble.

We had prom pictures together, we walked together in HS graduation, we took pictures together as college grads. For 13 years you were always just a mile away, or just across the quad. Do you realize how long 13 years is? Let's put it this way. J, your nephew, was 5 when we met, and now he's graduated from high school. Next week it will be officially 13 years, when we met in Mrs. G's 5th grade classroom, and you hit me because you didn't realize I wasn't a boy like all your other friends. I hated you. Then you became my best friend. We were the awkward kids, the fat girls that people didn't pay much attention to. And then suddenly you were Miss Popular, and sometimes you forgot me. You'd disappear from my life for a few weeks or for a summer, but I always wrote it off and always "took you back" when you'd come back, because I always forgave you. We'd become thick as thieves again and nothing would separate us... until something new distracted you and I got forgotten again.

You're the reason I've done anything crazy. Really. You got me to drink before I was 21, to smoke pot AND trespass at the same time, to skip class or to drive without a license to Walmart the next town over. You got me to do spontaneous and ridiculous things, to meet new people and push my boundaries and live life the way it should be lived. You make me laugh. We'd ride your riding lawn mower in your yard and lay on the trampoline and read romance novels to each other, or I'd just be content hanging out with you while you cleaned your room. Go down the river with your nieces and nephews and lay out in the middle of the road to warm ourselves up even when I told you not to because you were so much more relaxed than I could ever be.

It's like a horrendous breakup. Everything reminds me of you. Movies, songs, books, foods, you name it. I have dreams about you all the time, of saying the things I'm saying now, only to your face.

I'd be a fucking fool to forgive you, but I know if you were standing in front of me now, I would in a heartbeat. You know me better than anyone, and I thought I knew you too. But you lied and you hurt me more deeply than I could ever admit.

I shouldn't have been surprised. The signs were everywhere. My parents never liked you, even if my aunt and my grandma and my cousin and the rest of my entire fucking family did. They told me you were selfish and rude and I didn't listen. I should have. You didn't tell me when you lost your virginity, when you got engaged (the first AND the second time), and you didn't tell me when your fucking wedding was even though I got the invite. Yet weeks before I won "Who Knows A Best?" at your fucking wedding shower... because I was THERE. We lived all of it together.

And yet you weren't there for me when I had my surgery. You came to see me ONE time with R afterwards, when I was hopped up on drugs and barely remembered my own name... and then ignored me for four months after. You didn't tell me we picked the same college, by coincidence, and when we lived on the same floor in the same dorm, but we still hung out and made friends... the same friends you later chose as your bridal party. You promised I'd be in it. But no. You lied. How did you THINK I'd react? That I'd be happy? Forgiving? "Oh, she promised I'd be in her wedding, but you know, M knows her SO much better...." NO. FUCKING BULLSHIT. I love those girls too, but why wasn't I there? Why didn't I matter?

You were going to be the godmother of my kids. We joked often about being in nursing homes someday together, terrorizing the nurses. Obviously a joke... but I really did think you were going to be in my life for that long. Why wouldn't you be? You were the best friend I had in the world.

And now.........................

The only good thing I can see right now is that you introduced me to fan fiction. Without that, I never would have met people that help make this pain go away, that showed me what true friendship means. That's the only thing I'm grateful to you for right now. Everything else is blinding pain.

Fuck you.

Love, L, HR & FT

Lisa's List of Grievances

2010-08-27T00:43:00.000-07:00

I've been having issues. I'm sure anyone who knows me knows this already. My ulcer didn't come from nowhere...

So I had a suggestion from the person who is very quickly becoming the best friend I've ever had and probably will ever have, that I should write down my feelings in letter-form; getting it out in the open and off my chest. Rant and rave and all those good things. And I'm going to take that idea and run with it.

But in the spirit of wanting to improve my life rather than hinder it, I wanted to write my first post as a positive one, one of gratitude instead of anger. Cuz all you need is love, and all that jazz.

Dear Emmalee,

I don't know what I'd do without your friendship. I mean I lived the last 13 years thinking I had a best friend (who's going to get a letter of a lifetime here soon...), thinking I knew how friends treated a friend: greedy, selfish, rude. Fun to laugh with, but you know, not always there. Well now I know the meaning of a true friend because even though I've probably put you in a weird position more than once with my... emotions... you've stuck with me, even when you yourself are going through shit times. I'm always scared I'm not going to be good enough to deserve that, like that you'll finally reach your limit and say "OK, she's not worth the whining..." but so far, you've treated me better than anyone I've ever known, listened and given advise, but never pushed and never told me to STFU even when I probably should. AND we're brain twins. I swear it's true. It's odd how we had totally different backgrounds and yet found... friendmates? Not soulmates cuz neither of us believe in that. but you know what I mean. Maybe. Haha. In any case... I really do hope I can move to CA and be closer to you. That's not the only reason, but that'd be a huge fucking bonus. There's a huge amount more I could say. But I think you already know it. :-) Thank you. That's all. Just.... thank you.

Love, Lisa

All Inked Up

2010-06-24T15:35:00.000-07:00

I love tattoos. Hopefully, I'm getting one soon. So in order to bring order to the chaos that is my brain, I give you tattoos that I think are beautiful and/or sexy. Enjoy!!!

I'm in love with her chest... *dies*

The nipple ring kills me.

P.I.C's Fan Fic Corner Pimpin'

2010-02-11T11:14:00.000-08:00

Hey! Happy Thursday people. So our next Guest rec of the week comes from Laurel aka FrogQueen to those on Twitter.

I am thrilled that Nikki asked me to rec a story for the site, but I had a hard time finding one that wasn't already covered. Seems a lot of us have the same tastes in stories. But I found a recently written one-shot that isn't on the list and I'm happy to be the one to recommend it! It fits my first major requirement for a great story...Emmett!!!

I don't know how HopelessRomantic79 got into my head but she managed to invade it and pull out my perfect man: a geek (more specifically a software guy), built, glasses, COOKS and although he's quiet in the real world he's a Dom in the bedroom! I couldn't ask for anything more than that.

In "Consent to Release", Emmett and Bella are a fairly typical married couple. She's a cop, he works for a software company. They come home, cook dinner, talk about each other's days...you know typical stuff. But somewhere along the line they came to the conclusion that they enjoyed the freedom that taking on a Dom/Sub relationship brings. She didn't have to be the authoritative figure with him and he could let loose of his shy, quiet side and become "well, a stud".

They, like many part time lifestyle couples, don't have an extensive playroom but have learned to effectively use what they have and can make themselves happy in just the play.

Bella broke one of Emmett's major rules. She pleasured herself without his presence or permission. All of her orgasms belong to him, plain and simple. So he proceeds to show his displeasure in her outright disobedience...

“Isabella, I can see that you’re wet and swollen. Is it possible you’re looking forward to your punishment?”

I bit back a moan. “N-n-no, Sir.”

I gasped with a start as he slapped my pussy lightly, making sure to brush against my clit.

“Don’t lie to me!” he growled. “You’re such a naughty girl, Isabella. Only bad girls want to be punished. Only bad girls get punished.”

I inwardly smiled, knowing I was the only “bad girl” he’d ever really had acquaintance with. This had been a first for both of us.

“Yes Sir,” I replied.

“Open your eyes,” he said and I slowly opened them, meeting his hard gaze in the mirror before us. I could see that his pants were strained already and that he’d taken off his shirt. His muscles rippled as he walked slowly behind me, pacing like a predator that had just cornered his prey. I wanted to whimper at how sexy he was at this moment, when he was in his element.

“How many strokes should we say, Isabella?” he asked. “Twelve? Fifteen? What will make you remember that this,” he reached between us and cupped my heat, “is all mine?” He dipped a finger inside me and I wanted to gasp at the feeling but then it was gone and I was left aching for more, knowing it probably wouldn’t come any time soon. “Every orgasm belongs to me, Isabella. I’m the only one who tells you when and where to cum. On my fingers… on my face… on my cock…”

I shivered. This was the only time he talked dirty to me and I relished every minute of it and he knew it.

“So you will count the strokes,” he said. “I think twelve will be enough. And if you are good, I will give you a reward. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

I nodded; my eyes half-lidded with desire. I was dripping wet and he was not making things easier for me, especially if he didn’t want me to cum right away.

I could see him grab the soft leather paddle from our closet. It was the easiest of our supplies and I knew that he wasn’t entirely angry or too serious about the paddling. In fact, it was entirely possible he was going to go easy on me and make the spanks pleasurable for me.

Whap! I guess not. The paddle came down hard on my ass and I yelped a little in surprise.

“One!” I shouted.

He soothed my ass in between each swat and his hand felt heavenly in comparison with the paddle. By the time we reached twelve, I was a whimpering, moaning, wet mess, and I could barely even hold up my head.

“Get up, Isabella,” Emmett ordered and I knew better than to disobey him. Besides, this might mean I get my reward! Somehow, I managed to flip myself over on the ottoman and sit up on my sore ass. I’d have to ask him to rub it down later, not that he’d forget. He was such a good Dom, and husband, for that matter in that way. He always took care of me.

“Do you understand now? Will I need to punish you again?” he asked.

Probably, I thought.

I HIGHLY recommend this story!! Anything with Emmett works...but geeky, hot, Dom Emmett? TOTAL GOLD!!!

Pimping someone pimping me

2010-02-09T13:11:00.000-08:00

Rec from Les Femmes de Twilight!!! :-D

Consent to Release by HopelessRomantic79

Summary: Emmett is a software programmer and Bella's a cop- how do things switch up when they're in the bedroom? AH/AU/OOC/slight BDSM.

Pairing: Emmett/Bella

Rated: M

Chapters: 1 (This was an o/s, but I believe it's being continued)

Words: 3,604

Geek in the streets, but a freak in the sheets. That is the best way I can describe Emmett in this fic. I am not a huge Em/B girl, but everything about this o/s just drew me in! The title is extremely fitting and even her Bella is different than most. I mean, seriously, Bella as a cop? I've never seen it done and would have never thought to put her in that role.

I have a few favorite lines/scenes, but I won't post them all as I don't want to give too much away.
Here's a couple examples of what you will find in Consent to Release:

“Isabella, what have you been doing?” he asked, barely keeping the growl out of his voice. A shiver went up my spine, because I knew exactly what would happen next. I could feel the arousal dripping from me even now.

“What do you mean, Sir?” I asked calmly, carefully.

“I thought I made it perfectly clear to you that your orgasms are mine and mine alone.”
My heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t-”

“But you wanted to,” he interjected. “And I did not give you permission to pleasure yourself.”

Have I convinced you yet? No? Okay, here's another

“Very good,” he said, and I was happy I’d pleased him already. “Isabella, I can see that you’re wet and swollen. Is it possible you’re looking forward to your punishment?”

I bit back a moan. “N-n-no, Sir.”

I gasped with a start as he slapped my pussy lightly, making sure to brush against my clit.

“Don’t lie to me!” he growled. “You’re such a naughty girl, Isabella. Only bad girls want to be punished. Only bad girls get punished.”

I inwardly smiled, knowing I was the only “bad girl” he’d ever really had acquaintance with. This had been a first for both of us.

“Yes Sir,” I replied

UNF!

I absolutely loved this and can't wait for the author to continue. Please go read & review. Encourage her to give us more of this geeky, yet, dominate Emmett.

2010-01-29T13:11:00.000-08:00

Love men in Army attire, ladies in maid outfits? Show us how uniformed hotties get their kink on! http://www.fanfiction.net/~thekinkybitches

Brag-tastic

2009-12-30T15:25:00.000-08:00

From Altered Lions and Sacraficial Lambs. :-D

Maelyn recommends Strip Search by HopelessRomantic79

Challenge the law, and there will be consequences. LEMON. Em/B. Rated M.

I loved this. It's not too long and it pretty much gets straight to the glorious fucking. Gotta give props for that shit.

Seriously, though, I liked the premise behind it and it's execution. There were a couple of parts that made me laugh, as well - like the cavity search. And I swear the entire time I heard that 'bow chica bow bow' porn music in my head, but it worked for the fic.

One of the things I loved that the author did fairly well, I thought, was Emmett's perception of his strength. Somehow, she is able to portray a very strong, firm Emmett who still has a gentle touch. He is aware that he may hurt her and is careful about it.

This one shot is corny and cheesy, but also hot and steamy. So if you like that kind of thing, check it out.

Some More Bragging

2009-12-16T13:27:00.000-08:00

A really nice review for my first FF ever. :-)

Wednesday Weekly Rec's

The Bookshop by HopelessRomantic79

Summary: A chance encounter in a bookshop could lead to more for Jasper and Bella. AH, AU.

This is just a really nice love story. There’s no major angst, but, of course, there is a small bit of conflict. It’s an easy read at 28 chapters and is complete, so you could read all the way through in a lazy afternoon.

HopelessRomantic79 weaves a sweet and sexy story about how one day can change your whole life. All of the gang is represented in some way, though we learn more about some than others. Her use of Peter as Jasper’s grandfather and guardian is perfect.

Jasper is at his AH best as an intelligent and sexy teacher. Bella is a bookshop girl and writing her first novel. They complement each other perfectly.

This is just a great feel good fic in the midst of some very heavy WIPs out there.

Give it a try and let her know the Darlins sent you!

~NCChris~

Strip Search

2009-12-13T18:57:00.000-08:00

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?”

Officer McCarty slapped the cuffs on my wrists roughly, perhaps a little bit too tightly. I fought against the cuffs, willing them away. I was being leaned up against the car, flashing lights directly shining into my eyes, blue and red. The low point of my day.

His hands felt over my body, frisking me, patting me down for weapons, drugs, whatever it is cops look for. His hands lingered a little too long over my breasts, and I turned my head to glare back at him. His face was stony, unyielding. He pressed me a little more roughly into the car, kneeing me in the back.

“Ow!” I shouted. “Goddamn you,” I said under my breath.

“What was that?” His voice was harsh. “What was that Miss Swan?”

“Nothing,” I said petulantly.

“I’m going to have to do a strip search,” he announced gruffly.

“WHAT?!” I exclaimed. Fury washed over me. This was turning into the worst night of my life. I twisted my head to glare at him. I hadn’t noticed before, but he was extremely handsome, and massive. His arms could have crushed my tiny body, but they were gentle and merely kept me still. His eyes were a soft golden brown, which met mine strongly, fiercely. Challenging me. I licked my lips nervously. If I had to be strip searched, I suppose I didn’t mind if it was by him.

He righted my shoulders so they were facing forward again. He loosened my cuffs, but not before stating, “If you run, I will catch you, and you will regret it.” I nodded my consent. I believed him. The guy was six foot something and I was clumsy as fuck. I’d fall within seconds if he didn’t catch me first.

He uncuffed one hand, and pulled my shirt off quickly, and went to unbutton my pants. I didn’t fail to notice his eyes rake up and down my body, focusing on my breasts, which were encased in a blue lacy bra. I smirked. I bet if I asked, he’d tell me he was looking for concealed weapons. Right.

“Miss Swan, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take off your underwear, too. Just as a precaution. Criminals like you have to be searched everywhere.”

I shivered, despite myself. Yes, I was angry. Yes, I was humiliated. But yes, I was horny for this cop feeling me up against his patrol car in the middle of the night. I could feel the dampness grow between my legs. Shit. He would definitely notice that.

He whirled me around so my back was slammed against the car. He quickly deposed me of my bra and panties. An expert. I didn’t know if it had to do with his job or his personal life, but either way, I liked it.

“A cavity search is going to be necessary,” he said huskily. I looked down at him. He was kneeling, his face near my continually growing arousal. I bit back a moan as I saw he was eyeing me hungrily. It may have been my imagination, but I could have swore his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“This is outrageous!” I pretended to protest. “I demand to speak to your superiors about this!”

He smirked. “You see any around?”

I eyed him, appraising his face. He was looking at me with open lust at this point. If I had dared, I might have run my hands through his dark curly hair. It looked soft. But I felt like if I did, he’d probably wrestle me to the ground. Then again….

Slowly, and much more gently than I was expecting, his hand reached out to slowly enter my now soaking center. I bit my lip to bite back a moan as his massive fingers sank into my heat. He raised his eyebrows, and I could feel him probing inside me. His knuckle lightly brushed my clit, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. His fingers slid into me once, twice. At once, I felt his fingers stroke against my sweet spot. I hollered out in pleasure against my will.

“Do you think you can enjoy this, Miss Swan? You’re under arrest, and you’re gaining pleasure from it? I’m afraid I’m going to have to include this later on my report.”

He withdrew his fingers from me, and I nearly whimpered at the loss. His fingers were dripping with my juices. I wanted to ask him to replace his fingers with his cock if he would be so kind, but he spun me around so my breasts were essentially pancaked against the windows of the patrol car. I felt a rush of pleasure and nervousness wash over me. Full body cavity search…

I gulped. I felt his wet fingers spread my cheeks tenderly. He filled my hole, one which had never been touched before. I felt one, and then two fingers penetrate me, stretching me. It hurt slightly, but at the same time had the potential to feel very good.

He abruptly withdrew his fingers. “All right, Miss Swan, you’re clear. But you’re still under arrest. I’m going to have to take you downtown.”

I rolled my eyes at the cliché, still completely aroused from his touches. I redressed angrily. He had turned to clean off his hands and make notes on his clipboard in the front. He handcuffed me again, this time with my hands in front. He shoved me into the cage. I felt the cool metal seat against my ass. Ugh. From good, amazing even, to crap in less than 3 minutes. Great.

As Officer McCarty went to close the door behind me, I noticed that his pants were bulging… He was rock hard.

He smirked at me. “What? Do you like what you’ve done to me? Are you a slut and a criminal?”

I merely licked my lips. He slowly looked me up and down, and I felt a thrill of excitement. He silently undid his gun belt, slinging it onto the front seat. He undid his pants, and slowly released his cock. I gasped. He was huge. I wondered briefly if he’d fit… But oh God, would I love to find out.

“Suck it,” he said huskily. I licked my lips, and felt a tingling between my legs. I was beyond soaked. I leaned forward, and darted out my tongue, licking the tip. He hissed.

“Suck it,” he ordered, more forcefully this time.

I slid his dick between my lips, pulled my head back, and sucked him in deeper, until he hit my gag reflex. I didn’t choke, but pulled back a bit, then sucked around him hard. He was gasping and shouting out profanities. I tried to use my hands, which were still handcuffed together. I gingerly grasped the part of his cock I couldn’t fit into my mouth, stroking the silky skin there, and then gradually pumping him harder. He was grunting and groaning, a stream of profanities escaping his mouth. His hands went into my hair, encouraging me to pull him deeper into my mouth, though not choking me, not entirely fucking my mouth. I was grateful. It had been a long time since I’d done this.

I continued sucking, hallowing out my cheeks, and gazing up at him. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his breaths coming out in pants. The muscles in his neck and arms were straining. I could tell he was holding back on me.

I hummed around his dick, swirling my tongue around the tip. I simultaneously cupped his balls, rolling them in my palm.

“Fuck… Miss Swan… I’m going to… I’m cumming….” Instead of pulling away, I sucking him harder, and he came into my mouth, cursing as he did. I lapped up every last drop of him; he was sinfully delicious.

I pulled away from his body, now embarrassed. I had just given a blow job to the officer who was arresting me. I’m sure I was going to go to prison for that.

“Miss Swan.” Officer McCarty put his hand under my chin, lifting my face up to meet his. Then he did the last thing I was expecting. He kissed me, deeply, yet softly. Nibbling on my bottom lip, he ran his tongue along the seam of my lips, begging for entrance. I moaned, and gained him access. Our tongues battled for dominance. I let him win, but I think I was the winner in the end. He explored my mouth, sweeping his tongue against mine until he brought it into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. I moaned, knowing he was tasting himself.

My arms managed to encircle his neck, the cuffs still around my wrists. This allowed me to pull him closer to me. He had crawled into the back seat with me, his hips between mine as I wrapped my legs around his waist. Holy shit. He was hard again.

“Officer McCarty, I need…” My speech drifted off as he pulled me into another electrifying kiss, his hands all over me in a blur. Before I knew it, he had ripped my shirt open down the center, exposing my bra again. It was a front clasp, which he undid quickly, and immediately began sucking on my nipple, pinching the other before lavishing the same attention on it. I was panting, writhing beneath him. I needed friction. I needed him. Now.

“Patience, Miss Swan,” he chuckled. I whimpered in protest. I had no patience. I was hot and wet and aching for his cock. He unbuttoned my pants, pulling them roughly down my legs. Before I could stop him, he had ripped off my panties. I thought I would have been mad, but it only served to turn me on more.

“Mc…Carty…” I gasped. “NOW.” Without removing a shred of his clothing, he thrust into me, deeply. I shouted out, in pain and pleasure. He was thick and long, and filled me to the brim. He gave me a moment to get used to his size, then hitched my leg over his hip and began driving himself into me. I was moaning and gasping with every thrust. He felt so good inside me, and he never relented as he attacked my core with his monster cock. I was in heaven.

“You like my big cock in your wet pussy, baby?” he said. “You like me filling you, fucking you?” I could only moan in response. “Answer me!”

“Yessss…. Sooooo gooood….” I mewled. He switched angles, and began hitting my G-spot over and over. I thought I was going to pass out with pleasure. “Emmett! Oh God, don’t stop!”

“Mmm, Bella, fucking cum all over my cock, baby!” He reached his hand down to my clit, rubbing circles around it. He pinched it, and it was all over. I came with a shriek, and I could tell my muscles wrapping around him caused his own orgasm.

“Shit, Emmett… So good…” I moaned as he finally stilled within me, kissing me all over my shoulders, neck and face.

“We broke character, dammit!”

“Mmm, totally worth it, though. You’re too sexy for your own good, Emmett.”

“Yes, yes I am,” he grinned cockily.

“And now, Officer McCarty, I think we should strip search you,” I grinned cheekily, pulling him close by his lapels to give him a burning kiss and start round two.

Enjoy!

2009-12-08T17:17:00.000-08:00

I'm really horny so, uh, enjoy the fruits of that........... ;-)

Bragging Time

2009-12-06T11:59:00.000-08:00

My fic, Crashing Head On, got reviewed on Altered Lions and Sacraficial Lambs!!!!!! :-D

catonspeed recommends Crashing Head On by HopelessRomantic79

M rated: Tempers flare and personalities clash as Bella cares for an injured Emmett, but does that hate translate into love? AU/AH.

I love me some poor injured disgruntled Emmett - he of the TT's. Oh and nothing says UST like a long running feud between childhood acquaintances. If you haven't managed to kill each other, fucking is the only other outcome in the land of fic - we all know this...

All joking aside. This. This is a good Emmett fic *gasp!* I know right? They are few and far between (I stumbled upon this looking for something to rec and devoured chapters like Kitty Cullen devours doves - I have the tweet saved, my dear. Reviews are coming, HopelessRomantic79, I promise it won't be read and run).

Emmett is bedridden after an accident and Bella gets guilted into looking after him. The magic is already there, though, and you're just waiting for the moment the two of them find the common ground and crack:

Chapter two

Bella: He groaned again, and blinked his eyes open. Blurry and unfocused, they were still that deep blue that made my heart skitter a bit in my chest.

Once again, Bella, what the fuck? I thought to myself.

Emmett: Now… damn, she’d grown up. Still pale white and small, with that rich brown hair, but she was confident now. Sexy. Curvy. Incredibly fuckable.

Yeah I'm feeling both of you there! Can't stand each other can you? He he!

First, we have to deal with some twists and turns, but there's light at the end of the tunnel, and although I haven't gotten to the end yet, the HEA is promised, and I look forward to it, even though I'll be sad to see this fic end.

Go read, and leave the man of the month some love <3

Designing Woman

2009-12-05T13:40:00.000-08:00

The heat was stifling. Oppressive, heavy, thick. Esme rarely stepped out of her air-conditioned office, and she hated doing these consultations. Especially for some richy-rich rancher who spent ungodly amounts of money on “formal rustic” or some crap like that. A hick who made it to the top, and wanted to show it off.

Esme spent a good amount of time with the fake yuppies, and they never failed to bore her. She was sure that this would be no different.

She pulled up in her little sports car, and pulled her sunglasses down her nose to appraise the house in front of her. It was large but unassuming. It screamed prosperity, not outrageous wealth. The landscaping was tidy and used only native plants. Honestly, it was very beautiful, and Esme started to formulate the colors and ideas in her head. Clearly, this client enjoyed nature, simplicity. The reds, browns and yellows of the earth.

She could work with that.

A few moments and a few swift knocks later, and Esme was gasping for air. The door had swung open, and there stood the most gorgeous specimen of the male sex she had ever seen. He was young, but she wouldn’t say too young. More than legal. Tall, muscular, but not bulky, and the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen. She automatically pondered what he’d do with those eyes when he was about to orgasm; would they squeeze tight shut? Look at her hazily, half lidded?

She licked her lips nervously and held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Esme Platt, from Lone Star Designs,” she said, trying to keep her tone professional and keep out the quiver that affected it right now.

He took her hand, and her body went into some sort of sexual shock. His grip was firm, but somehow gentle. Soft, but not too soft. His hands still felt like he worked; this wasn’t a lazy rancher who passed off his work to others. Her panties became just a little damp from his brilliant, genuine smile.

“I’m Jasper Whitlock, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said in a soft drawl.

Sure, she was probably old enough to be his mother, or at least an older aunt, but Esme didn’t care. She wanted him with every bone in her body. And did she want his bone in her body? Fuck yes.

“Your landscaping is lovely,” she said. “Am I correct in assuming you prefer natural, simple designs?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, and her heart did a little double time. Usually “ma’am” made her feel old, but the way Jasper said it, it was more like an invitation to bed. She’d gladly accept such an invitation.

He showed her through the house, and she was silently impressed at the design just the way it was. It was simple, open, and clean. Nothing spectacular or overdone, and she liked that. It seemed to fit his personality to a T. After all, he was wearing a simple pair of Wranglers and a plain white T-shirt. Nothing expensive at all… and yet she was holding herself back so she wouldn’t tear off all his clothes and have her wicked way with him right here on the staircase.

“And this is my bedroom…” Jasper said, pulling the door open.

“Oh!” Esme said in surprise. “I didn’t realize that you wanted your room designed as well…”

“Yes, I want your touch everywhere.”

The innuendo was not lost on Esme, who subtlety rubbed her thighs together for friction. She was going to die if he kept talking like that.

“Will your girlfriend or wife mind if I take free reign in the bedroom?” she asked, fully aware of her own implications.

If she wasn’t mistaken, his eyes darkened at her statement, and he darted his tongue out to wet his lips. Her own body was thrumming with desire for this virtual stranger. All she could think of was weaving her fingers through his honey locks and dragging him down to her sweet spot, begging him to taste her, consume her.

“There’s no girlfriend or wife,” he said quietly. His voice was deeper, huskier now. “And I don’t mind if you take free reign of the bedroom.”

Somehow, without her permission, her feet carried her across the room to him, and before either one of them could understand or comprehend what was happening, she was in his arms and they were kissing as if their lives depended on it.

Their tongues met over and over, both eager to stoke the fires that were lit inside of them, despite the Texas heat. Their hands furiously yanked off layers of clothing, until Esme was only in her bra, panties and heels, and Jasper was in a pair of briefs that had Esme’s mouth watering.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Jasper said as he laid open-mouthed kisses up and down the column of her neck.

“Me either,” Esme whimpered, and it was true. Usually she knew the man for a little longer than twenty minutes before pouncing on him, but she couldn’t help herself. She was in her early forties, unattached, sexually confident, and hot and bothered by this man. And clearly, he wanted this just as bad, if what she felt against her hip was any indication.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured in her ear, dragging her to the King-sized bed that was flanked by two wide open windows. A stale breeze floated in, and though it was hot now, Esme knew it was about to get a lot hotter. “The second I saw you…”

“I know,” she gasped as he laid out across her and brushed his hands down her curves. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, fisting her hands in his hair. Jasper groaned and bucked his hips into her.

“I want you,” he growled, and licked a line down the cup of her bra, his other hand cupping her breast gently, kneading softly. Esme was going insane with the slowness of his movements.

“More,” she mewled into his neck, writhing underneath him. He was young, virile, and just as willing as she was. She was ready for this. She already suspected this would be one of the best sexual encounters of her life, if what his fingers were currently doing to the front of her panties were any indication.

“Fuck, Jasper,” she moaned as he slipped two fingers inside her ready sex. He was so young, and yet he knew exactly where to touch, how to please her properly. It had been so long…

“Esme, you’re so sexy,” he said, fucking her with his fingers with one hands, and popping the front clasp of her bra open with the other. “Fuck, I want you so badly.”

“Then take me,” she moaned. “Please, Jasper.”

“Patience, darlin’,” he said, and she literally felt herself get wetter at his words. It might have also have to do with the magic way his fingers were making her toes curl already. But either way, it was pretty fucking amazing.

“Mind if I have a taste?” he asked, and before she could say yes or no, though she’d never say no, he’d ducked his head down her body and began attacking her clit with his tongue.

“Oh!” Esme exclaimed, her hips raising off the bed instinctively, begging him to stay just where he was. He continued to attack her clit while fucking her thoroughly with his fingers, adding a third, and before she knew it, she was falling apart all over his face and hands. “Shit! Shit!” she yelled. “Fuck, Jasper!” She could have sworn she saw stars as she came.

He let her ride out the waves of orgasm that kept washing over her, and then pulled away, giving one last kiss to her over-sensitive clit and withdrawing his fingers. She groaned in disapproval. She wanted more. So much more.

He was still in his boxers, which were now bulging with his arousal, and she realized hazily that she was still wearing her heels and panties, that he had merely pulled them aside to gain access. He’d wanted her that bad, she thought giddily.

She boldly reached out and cupped his arousal in her hand. “Are you ready, Tiger?”

He smirked down at her. “For you? Always.”

Her heart leapt at the word. She prayed this wouldn’t be the last time, because he had just made her cum harder than she ever had in her entire life, and that was without his cock. She could barely wait to find out exactly what he could do with the massive cock in his pants.

Her hands tugged his underwear down now, and licked her lips instinctively when she saw him bounce free of his constraints. He was already incredibly hard and precum was oozing from the tip. She wanted to taste, but he had other ideas. With a quick tug, her panties were in shreds in his fingers, and her nipples hardened further at his strength, eagerness, and the smoldering look in his eyes.

“Do you want this?” he asked.

“Yes,” she gasped.

“I’m clean,” he said.

“So am I. And I’m on the pill. So please, Jasper…”

Without another word, he guided himself to her and thrust inside, hard. A yelp of surprise escaped her lips, at the speed and the fullness that she felt. Her eyes rolled back into her head at the sensations going through her, and eagerly bucked her hips up to match Jasper’s thrusts.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” they both murmured, knowing just how amazing and rare this was. He kissed her as they moved together, and it nearly took her breath away. He shifted angles, and then she literally was breathless, because he was hitting spots no man had ever reached inside her. Their hips were a blur, moving fast and impatiently against each other, desperate for friction and release.

“Jasper,” she whimpered, and he rubbed her clit, knowing her same urgency. Her heels dug into his backside, urging him deeper, and soon, it was too much for both of them. Esme came first, body arching off the bed, and he continued to fuck her through the orgasm, drawing it out and making it nearly endless. But he couldn’t hold on for much longer, and the pain of her heels digging into his ass, and the pleasure of her body milking his couldn’t stop him from cumming hard inside her.

“Fuck, Esme,” he grunted, going still inside her. His hands loved her curves, appreciating the woman in his bed, for she was a true woman, not a girl. She moaned at how his hands worshipped her overheated skin, tasting her salty neck languorously.

“May I offer you a designing tip?” Esme said teasingly.

“What’s that?” Jasper’s hair fell into his forehead, and she was suddenly ready for another round.

“Mirrors on the ceiling,” she said, and he groaned, hardening again at the thought.

“Like I said, you have free reign in the bedroom,” he said.

“In that case… on your back, Whitlock. I wanna ride.”

Terminal Bachelor, Famous Ladies Man

2009-11-29T13:03:00.000-08:00

First it started with the ex. The one he regarded as the love of his life. The wound had never really healed from that one.

Renee hadn’t been his first girlfriend, but she had been his first love, wife, and mother of his child. And nothing and no one could ever replace that. He had tried, countless times, to remove all the things that reminded him of her- Renee had left her mark on everything down to the curtains- but each time, his hands wouldn’t comply and everything stayed just as it was.

At least he’d changed the sheets since she’d left. Nothing smelled like her anymore.

He’d tried to replace the smell of her with other women’s perfume. Chief Swan had never been shabby with the ladies. Standoffish perhaps, and more than a little shy, but it was regarded as endearing more than anything. Mysterious. Chuck was hard to read, but women like that, don’t they?

Few people knew that the good Police Chief Swan tickled lady parts in all the right places with his mustache. And he did it well.

No one made up for the gaping hole in his heart Renee had formed, but he did his best to fill them, and no one ever complained. His handcuffs did more time on bedposts than criminals wrists. Forks isn’t an active town after all. Chuck was.

Bella moved back, and Charlie was secretly elated. Bella had her mother’s smile, but he ignored the painful similarities, and did his best to welcome her home. He’d have to be more discreet with his encounters now. Nothing worse than having your teenaged daughter catch you being anything less than fatherly.

But then Bella started up with the Cullen kid, and started bringing Alice home with her.

He knew it was wrong, because she was in high school, but Charlie couldn’t help but fall just a tiny bit in love with his daughter’s new best friend. He might as well arrest himself now for the feelings and thoughts he had for Alice.

She had short hair, cropped close to the face, highlighting her delicate features. Just like Renee. Charlie mentally slapped himself for making the comparison, but it couldn’t be helped. Alice was beautiful, smart, and wise beyond her years. Charlie always felt like she knew something he didn’t, like she was so full of secrets, and he’d never know them all.

But how he wanted to know them. And her. In the Biblical sense. Which was so wrong.

She was some sort of minx, or maybe the Devil incarnate, he wasn’t sure which, to make him feel the way he did about her. He was pretty sure even Bella knew of his infatuation, and Alice, with her significant glances, definitely knew. Every once in a while, she’d give him a little wink, and he’d feel things in his pants that no grown man should have over a minor.

And then Harry died. Harry, one of Charlie’s oldest and dearest friends. He meant a lot more to Charlie than just a fishing buddy, and it had been harder than he’d anticipated to say goodbye.

Sue needed him now. He did everything he could for her, including helping her through that time when Leah and Seth went crazy and gave Sue a hard time. He’d never understood teenagers, which always made it awkward between him and his now-married daughter. That was something he’d never been able to wrap his head around… especially when things got freaky.

The less he knew, the better.

And Sue helped him through those rough and troubled times, just as much as he’d helped her. Or maybe more.

He never saw anyone but her anymore. To be honest, he’d been rather celibate ever since Bella moved home, completely by accident. And now it was because the only woman he really and truly cared about was his best friend’s widow. And he didn’t want to move too quickly. She trusted him completely, and he needed to be whatever she needed him to be. Which, at the moment, was a friend.

Until one night, when she was making him dinner. Her hair, which was graying at the temples, was pulled back, and he could easily appreciate the long line of skin there. He wanted a taste. But he was too afraid to; he didn’t want her to scamper away like an afraid rabbit.

But Sue was stronger than she looked, and she sensed his presence behind her.

“Don’t lurk in the doorway,” she lightly scolded. “Sit down, dinner’s almost ready.”

He saw a steady, bright fire in her eyes, one that had been burnt out when Harry died. It had been more than a year, and that fire was back. Not as strong, but it was there. He wondered where that fire had come from. And yet… the way she was looking at him now, even in his old, faded flannel shirt he used to wear out fishing with Harry… it was easy to believe that the reason was him.

He took a long pull from his Vitamin R and watched her. She had always been beautiful, enough for him to fully appreciate it, but she had always been his friend’s wife. Now she could be something more. The feeling itched at him.

“Charlie?” She was looking at him now, not with fire but with annoyance. “Did you hear me?”

“Uh, no,” he stammered, realizing she’d probably just caught him staring at her.

“I asked you if you wanted two or three pieces?” She gestured towards the salmon frying on the stove, freshly caught last week by his own rod and reel.

“Um, three,” he said.

“Are you alright? You have a funny look on your face,” she observed.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m fine.”

“OK,” she said, and turned back to the stove. Surreptitiously, he continued to observe her backside. For a woman easily in her late forties, she was beautiful. He wanted to…

“Charlie Swan! What’s the matter with you?!” she exclaimed, and he realized now he was staring at her front side, as she whirled around. She’d caught him again.

“Nothing! I mean, I- and then- and- I’m sorry, Sue,” he stuttered. He wasn’t easy with words, but it was rare when Charlie stammered.

She gave him a knowing look, hands on her hips. He tried to look apologetic, but he wasn’t really sorry. It was too easy, with her like this, to forget the boundaries they’d somehow silently set up. He hated them, but he knew that there were rules, just like laws, that had to be followed and obeyed.

So he was shocked as hell when she strode across the kitchen, took his head between her hands, and leaned down to kiss him.

Her lips were soft and gentle, making no demands against his. He felt his eyes shut closed as she pressed herself against him, but he didn’t dare reach out to touch, no matter how badly he wanted to. This was about her, not him.

“Kiss me back,” she breathed. “Please.”

He pulled away for a moment. “Are you sure?”

She didn’t say anything, but nodded, eyes filled with tears. Yet she didn’t look sad. She leaned forward, and he couldn’t stop himself this time from returning the kiss. It was sweet, but held yearning for more, from him, from Sue, or from both of them, he couldn’t tell. He let his hands wander to her waist, and tugged so she was sitting on his lap. Her arms wound around his shoulders, and for the first time since Renee had gone, he kissed a woman with passion and genuine feelings. It was new and startling, and he loved it. He pulled her closer, and their tongues danced together. He felt… good again. More complete than he had been since Renee left.

Maybe Charlie Swan wouldn’t be a terminal bachelor after all.

Though maybe, perhaps, he could still be a famous ladies man.

Let's Just Stare At Ashley For A Moment

2009-11-28T18:22:00.000-08:00

Mmmm, yes please!

Thank God for wet material...

I'd tie her up...

Or push her against a wall...

Oahu

2009-11-25T11:34:00.000-08:00

Getting ready to leave for Oahu... in two days. Am I packed? Not yet. Do I have a place to go? Sort of. Am I scared out of my mind? Hell yes. Am I excited? Make that a double hell yes. I feel like I'm going to grow up a LOT with this job, and being absolutely and completely independent for the first time in my life. Sure, I went abroad, but I had friends with me, and a place to stay all arranged. I was nervous to be away for 5 months from my family on another continent, but I dealt with it easily because I had everything all planned. And now... I definitely don't. I have no idea where I'm going, who I'm going to live with, what part of the island, nothing. And the stress of it really makes me nervous. But I love to travel, and I'm good at it to boot, so I feel like I can do this. Maybe. If I get my shit together, I can do it.

And maybe I'll go to a luau or something. Probably not. But maybe. :-P

Centerfold

2009-11-23T22:32:00.000-08:00

"Centerfold," based off of the song of the same title by The J. Geils Band.

EmPOV

Fuck. My. Life.

It was everywhere, or at least it seemed like it. She was everywhere. Each and every newspaper stand taunted me, her sinfully beautiful face and body reflecting up at me from the glossy pages of a magazine.

Jealousy seeped through me, cold and unrelenting, and I was seeing red.

She was mine, and anyone and their mother’s twin could walk by and see my angel, the love of my life, the woman of my dreams… half naked. And worse.

I already knew what they would see. Soft, gently glowing skin, supple and smooth to the touch. Brilliant blue eyes that could peer into your soul. Perfect, gently waving blonde hair that you could wrap into your hands and run through your fingers when she was kissing you. The perfect features, her angel’s body that could make you whimper with need and desire.

My memories up for purchase.

I stalked home, trying my very best not to look at the magazines that cried out to me as I walked past. I knew that she loved her career, and I knew that I had always told her I’d be supportive of her when she began modeling when we were seventeen, but that all seemed incredibly naïve to me now. I’d always thought it would be hot for my girl to pose for Maxim or Playboy or Sports Illustrated, but I had no idea what I was talking about, clearly.

Rosalie was my girl, but now everyone knew what my girl looked like in a bikini, and I did not like it.

We grew up together in Forks, Washington, and I’d had a crush on her ever since we were in kindergarten. She was always my unattainable dream, the one girl whose attention I could never manage to grab. I tried everything: I wrote her poems, pulled her pigtails, joined the football and baseball teams starting in middle school, and did everything in my power to sound smart and funny in front of her, much to the amusement of my jackass best friends, Jasper and Edward.

She ignored me, because she was always better than me, and I knew it.

Who knew that she would fall in love with me because of an accident?

It wasn’t a major accident or anything. A small fender bender in the parking lot. But for the first time, she looked at me with blazing eyes, hands on her hips, and I was suddenly grinning like a fool. She slapped me, thinking I was making fun of her, I asked her out on a date without thinking, by some miracle she said yes, and we were inseparable ever since.

Our senior year, she was scouted at the mall in Port Angeles while shopping with Jasper’s girlfriend, Alice, and once it was determined it wasn’t a scam, she decided that after graduation she would move to LA to live out her dream of being a model. Being the lovesick fool I was, and still am, I followed her, and we’d lived here ever since.

Rose was an instant hit as a catalogue model, and she was happy even as she dreamed of bigger and better things. She did a few ad campaigns for some new designers, and tried to make it into commercials, but never really found her niche there. She was dyslexic, and always had a hard time memorizing the lines.

Then one day, a new lingerie company approached her for a runway show and ad campaign, and she jumped at the chance. I didn’t mind, because the only people who really saw her were other women in fancy magazines. She would strut her stuff on the catwalk, posing her ass off for swimsuit and underwear designers, and looked sexy as hell doing it.

She was successful and happy, and I was happy for her.

Until now.

I hadn’t had a single reservation when she told me a major men’s magazine wanted to do a shoot of her in little more than a bikini. We’d gone together on the shoot in Mexico, and I had watched each and every day. We went back to the hotel afterwards and fucked like crazy. Watching her pose in the surf and sand was like an aphrodisiac to me, and I couldn’t get enough of her.

Clearly, I hadn’t really thought this all the way through. If I felt this way about her, what would all the millions of men who read the magazine think of her, too? A cold fist clenched around my stomach as I thought about other men getting pleasure looking at my Rosalie.

Our apartment was empty when I got home. A note was laying on the counter for me. Went to get stuff for dinner, be back soon! XXOO, Your Rosie.

I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and collapsed on the couch. I couldn’t stop thinking about just how many other men would see my girl. I hated how possessive I was being, but I couldn’t seem to help it. I felt more like how Edward behaved with Bella. I’d always mocked him for it, but now I knew how he felt… and Bella wasn’t even a model.

I took a long pull from my beer, and felt sorry for myself, kicking myself for making the mistake of letting her do the shoot. I should have known…

Keys rattled at the door, and seconds later, Rosalie was walking through the door. Her arms were full of bags of groceries, and she was wearing a tight, form-fitting, soft sweater. I wanted to pull it off of her and throw it across the room… but not before I had a few words with her.

“Hey, baby,” she said, her cheeks flushed from the walk up the stairs. She tossed her keys onto the counter with a musical clatter. “How was your day?”

“It could have been better,” I said sullenly.

She frowned. “What happened?”

I frowned back. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a certain issue of a certain magazine came out today…”

She squealed. “Really?! Did they send a copy here?! I want to see…” She seemed oblivious to the black cloud that was over my head. I wanted to share that excitement with her, but I just couldn’t seem to manage it.

“I saw it.”

“How did it look? Did I look like a total mess? Remember, that week I was PMS-ing, and I just felt so fat, and maybe it looked that way…”

“You looked amazing,” I told her honestly. I remembered that she was bitchy that week, which had only made the sex better. “You don’t look fat, trust me.”

“What’s wrong with you?” She knitted her eyebrows together in confusion.

I sighed. “Baby… everyone can see you in those pictures.”

“Uh, yeah?” She was really confused now. “That’s sort of my job…”

“Well maybe I don’t want to see my girlfriend’s hot body splashed across every fucking magazine in the world!” I shouted. “Maybe I don’t want other men to see you like that!”

She looked like I had just slapped her across the face. “You said you’d always support me,” she said in a low voice. “You said you were proud of me.”

“I AM proud of you-” I started.

“Like hell you are!” Her eyes flashed with anger and she folded her arms across her chest. “I can’t believe this!”

“I just hate to think about other guys looking at you like that!” I shouted. “I love you, and you’re mine and-”

“Let’s just get one thing straight here, buddy,” she said, her voice barely above a growl now. “You may be my boyfriend, and we may have been together since we were teenagers, but that does NOT mean I am yours. I am my own free person, and if you think for one minute-” Rose was seething. Her face was beet red with anger. This was one side of my girl that few others got to experience. Lucky me.

“Fuck, Rose!” I shouted. “I LOVE you! Do you think it’s easy for me to see you looking so sexy and gorgeous, and knowing that every other guy, and women, too, might just think the same thing? That they’ll touch themselves looking at your body, imagine you being with them?”

Her face was frozen with shock.

“I just didn’t realize how hard it would be to see it,” I said, much more quietly. “I know it’s your job, and that you love what you do, and I realize this is a huge opportunity for you. I really am proud of you. But fuck, Rose, I can’t stop feeling this way. You’re the only girl I’ve ever been with, and somehow I wanted it to always feel like I was your only, too.”

“You are-”

“I know,” I said. “I just mean… now I feel like every guy in the world has seen you like this, and imagined you like this, and it used to be something only I could enjoy.”

It really hurt when I thought about it that way.

Tears sparkled in Rosalie’s eyes, and I knew that she was either really pissed at me now, or just as upset. I prayed for neither, but knew we couldn’t get out of this completely unscathed.

“I was just doing my job,” she said, wilting into the chair next to her. “You were there, Emmett. You saw the pictures being taken. You knew what I was doing. It’s not like I went behind your back or anything. You know I’ve always been open and honest with you.”

“I know you have,” I said softly, now angry at myself for making her think I doubted her in any way. I was suddenly glad for Jasper‘s gag Christmas gift of How to Understand and Communicate With Your Partner. “You know how I always appreciate that.”

She sighed again. If the guys who saw her pictures now could see her, they’d see no comparison. This was my Rose, real and in the flesh, and suddenly I realized how full of shit I really was. I was the only one who would ever see her like this, vulnerable and hurting, and as bad as it made me feel to think about it, it was also nice to realize. I was the only one who would ever truly know her, love her, care for her. They might lust over her body, and they might fantasize about her in the bedroom, but they couldn’t have her. They would never see her now, in her most natural beauty, and I was a goddamned idiot for not seeing it sooner.

“Rose, I’m so sorry,” I said, hanging my head. “I just got stupid jealous, and I know I really fucked up. Please forgive me?”

I heard and felt, rather than saw her move to me on the couch. She wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder.

“I just don’t want you to resent me and my career,” she said sadly. “I’ve worked so hard for it, and I don’t want to give anything up. I want you, need you… but I also love modeling. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“I don’t want you to,” I said honestly. “I just didn’t realize how badly it would affect me.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked, worry now seeping into her voice. “I can’t give either of you up!”

“I’m never going to ask you to,” I said, trying to get her to realize that I was just a stupid ass who shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. “I want you to be happy, and I know this makes you happy.”

She turned to me, eyes red rimmed with unshed tears. “I love you, Emmett. I want you to know that. You’re the only one- ever. I swear. It doesn’t matter what other people say or think. You and me, for the long haul, OK?”

“That’s the way it’s always been,” I said. “And I’ll never ask to change it.”

She gave me a small smile. “At least it wasn’t a naked shoot, huh?”

“Yeah, about that…” I said, adding suggestiveness to my tone. “I was sort of hoping for a private posing.”

She raised her eyebrow at me. “You think you can be an ass, make me question my career and our relationship, and then think you can just suggest sex and get away with it?”

“Uh… yes?” I said, a sheepish grin on my face.

“Uh… no,” she said firmly, and I groaned.

“Please, Rosie, baby?”

“Hell no!” she said, and hopped from the couch, but I could see her smile in the reflection of the microwave. I would get some, eventually, and we both knew it. She started unpacking the grocery bags on the counter. “So I’m going to make some steak for dinner.”

I jumped up from my seat to wrap my arms around her. “I love that you eat steak,” I said, biting her ear. “Thank God you’re not a rabbit.”

“That would be gross if I were,” she joked. “Didn’t realize you were into animal sex, McCarty.”

I growled in her ear and felt her shiver against me. “That’s not what I meant. You’re a real woman who eats real food, and I love it.” I ran my hands up her sumptuous curves and cupped her generous breasts. “I can see why they asked you to do that shoot.”

She laughed. “Are you liking the shoot again now? Because I vividly remember you enjoying yourself on the beach…”

“And in the hotel room, and in the pool, and in the rental car…” I ticked off the locations on my hand with a shit-eating grin on my face.

“And in our apartment…” she said softly, and turned in my arms. Our lips crashed together in a needy, desperate kiss. We were both trying to sort out the feelings that were coursing through our bodies, and though we both knew the fight wasn’t really over, we knew we would resolve it eventually. We just needed a little help from Mr. and Ms. Libido, and we’d be back to normal in a few days.

I pushed her up against the kitchen counter, feeling Rose stretch onto her tiptoes to fully reach my mouth. I helped her jump onto the counter, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me even closer. The soft sweater she wore rose up against her body, revealing her soft, sweet smelling skin, and I lavished it with my hands, feeling her tremble gently beneath my touch.

Mine, I couldn’t help but think over and over. All mine. Soon enough, her sweater had joined my T-shirt on the floor, and we were scrambling to undress each other. We greedily marked each other with our overly-eager mouths, and our bodies crashed back together when we were finally naked.

“Emmett, I love you so much,” she moaned. “Only you, forever.”

“Only you,” I echoed, and lowered her hips so I could plunge inside her, hard and fast. She shrieked as I pounded into her, her arms flailing around my neck, my hands fast and firm on her hips as we rode wave after wave of lust and need.

It wasn’t soft, it wasn’t tender. We were being greedy and possessive and needy, and we were both trying to erase bad thoughts of each other away, and I really think it was working. Her breasts bounced in front of my face, and I concentrated on them, capturing a nipple between my lips, sucking hard on it. She moaned and dug her fingernails into my back.

“Fuck, Rose, I’m almost there,” I gasped, and she nodded soundlessly. Her hand snaked between us so she could rub her clit, and I had to concentrate on not cumming right away as I saw her touch where our bodies connected together, my thrusts so shallow now I barely left her body.

“Gah! EMMETT!” Rosalie shouted, practically deafening me as she came hard around me. I grunted, trying to prolong her orgasm for as long as I could without instigating mine, and then finally I gave up the effort and came hard inside her.

We finally stilled, our sweaty bodies sticking together in the most delicious of ways. I licked a long line up her neck, and she shivered.

“Only you,” she said shakily. “Only you forever, Emmett, do you understand?”

I nodded. “I know, I know. Only me.”

“Don’t forget it,” she said. “Or else I’ll have to fuck the shit out of you again so you remember.”

“Well in that case…” I said teasingly. “I may have to forget all over again.”

She rolled her eyes.

Yeah, things would be back to normal.

Rambling Over Hotness

2009-11-23T16:48:00.000-08:00

Just to establish the mad, passionate love I have for some of the characters/actors in Twilight... These three pretty much make Twilight worthwhile for me. Emmett/Kellan, Jasper/Jackson, and Alice/Ashley are by far my favorites. Because, well, look at them! Gahh!!!

Oh, and I can't forget Stacheman... ;-)

First Try

2009-11-23T16:21:00.000-08:00

Hey all, this is my first foray into blogging... I hope it goes well. What you'll find here... uh... lots and lots of stuff about Twilight. Cuz that's how I roll lately. And probably random rants here and there, too.