Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine. I'm just having a little fun with it.
A/N: This is my second one-shot and I wrote it just to let off a little steam. I would like to think that there is something for everyone in here. Hope you guys enjoy. Rated M for a reason.
It was not every day that you helped your OCD, sexy beast of a boyfriend move into a new apartment because he had won close to four million dollars playing the interstate lottery. Yeah, not every day at all.
It had all started that one fine day, when we were cooped up in his small studio apartment (which was immaculately scrubbed and arranged in order; he was OCD after all), too tired to go out. We were cautiously drunk and I dared him to do something completely out of character. So he did the one thing he would never have done otherwise. He went out and bought a lottery ticket.
Now I know what you're thinking. Buying a lottery ticket is not that unusual, is it?
It is if you're my Edward.
Edward was what one would call a black and white guy. His life was planned to within a tenth of a second. It was either true or false, good or bad, yay or nay for him. There was never a middle ground, no room for mistakes or assumptions. And putting faith in something as unpredictable as a lottery ticket, well that was blasphemy of the blackest kind.
People never understood what I saw in Edward. Sure, he was handsome and hot as the Sahara and his one smile could send millions of female hearts racing; but if you're not used to him, a few moments with him would make you wish for a barbeque in hell.
He was what one of my former friends had termed as a ginormous pain in the mighty white ass, just before I dumped the friend's ass of course; no one bad mouthed my Edward. Sure he was a little difficult at times, but he was mine and no one had any say in that matter. He would snap and grumble if you forgot to put a dish in the dishwasher or to use a placemat (did those even exist anymore?) or a coaster. He would be harsh and unforgiving if you forgot his clothes were color and day coded and, God forbid, put his blue corduroy pants with the beige coat. No, stuff like that did not float with Edward at all.
So why, you ask, do I put up with him? Because, let me tell you one reason, dear friends. OCD makes for the world's best lovers.
They won't give up until you're as limp as a vegetable in their hands and when you are in a business where fucking (of the mental kind, I'm a lawyer, not a hooker, though there is very little distinction these days) just pays the bills, coming home to a lover who knows exactly where the g-spot is, exactly how to hit it, exactly how to touch it, exactly how to lick it, well you get the picture.
After enduring hours and hours of deceit and deception, unspoken words and misunderstandings, Edward is like a breath of fresh air; with his clear cut view of life and no qualms about saying just the wrong things, he's like manna for my psyche. Also, I've never seen another man who'll not only do his own laundry, but spare painstaking hours doing mine as well. And enjoy it.
The trick is getting used to him and possessing the patience of a saint.
I remember the first time he entered my office. He wanted to sue the deli on the opposite side of the street from where my small office is for serving him pork that was not cooked at a correct temperature (how he figured that out, I'll never know).
He had once told me that he almost had an aneurysm when he walked in that day and saw files and books scattered on every imaginable surface, while I sat on my table eating donuts using one of the legal documents as a donut holder. What I had never told him was that the reason I rode him like a horse afterwards was because he organized my entire file-cabinet in two hours flat. A feat my secretary had been unable to achieve in the past two years. I just let him think it was his charms…
Anyway, he instantly got on my nerves, remarking how extremely cluttered my office was and how utterly disorganized I seemed to be. And I did not even know his name!
Now, I was a feminist to the core, fighting for women equality all my life. No man just busted into my office and told me how to conduct myself. To say I was close to butchering him and hiding his remains would be an understatement.
But then he started picking up all the scattered documents and organizing them in alphabetical order. I watched, stunned into immobility, as he managed to put together my entire office in no more than three hours. He did not even throw a glance at me as he arranged bundles and bundles of paperwork, his back turned to me.
I had never been this turned on in my entire life. And it had very little to do with his sex-hair.
So I did the one thing any turned on feminist would do. I stripped down to my bare essentials (thanking the lord for lacy thongs and cursing the patriarchal society for making me conform to them) and saucily lay down on my desk, my butt cheeks glowing in the dimming light.
I still laugh when I recall Edward's expression as he turned around to find me in such a provocative position. He told me that was the first time in his life that his mind had gone so completely blank.
The documents in his hand fell to the floor as soon as he turned around.
"Wh-wh-wh-" I had to suppress the urge to laugh like an evil dictator at the stricken expression on the bronze-god's face as he took in my almost naked form in, sprawled on the sturdy table. Even in the dim light from the window I could see his eyes darken with lust, a very prominent bulge visible under the layers of his jeans. His hands hung loosely at his sides and his mouth gaped open. I saw drool and let out a giggle. It was almost with the speed of light that he got to me. I sat up, pushing my breasts out in the process.
"What is this?" he growled, balling his hands in fists, probably to stop himself from touching me. Too bad I wanted him to do just that. So instead of answering his query, I took one of his hands in mine and forcefully slipped two fingers in my wet, throbbing pussy.
I let out a moan at the touch. Years and years of self-gratification could not have made me ready for the sensations that coursed through my body at the contact.
"What does it feel like?" I asked breathily, as his fingers penetrated deeper into my waiting core.
"Why?"
I noticed he had not yet made any attempt to remove his fingers; rather he was twisting them now, making all coherent thought flee from my mind.
"You can leave right now if you want." I was not going to offer any reasons to him for my behavior. It was completely justified in my mind.
In response, he placed my free hand on his bulge. "Does it feel like I want to?" I shook my head in negative and then moaned as he dug deeper.
"Just one thing," I managed through the haze in my brain. His fingers stilled and he frowned. "Tell me the name I'll be screaming in the throes of passion."
A smile tugged at his lips and the fingers resumed their stroking. "Edward."
"Oh Edward." I moaned, to test how his name would feel on my lips. Perfect.
All that moaning seemed to spur him on and moving closer, to get a better angle, he cupped my pussy with the remaining fingers and squeezed. I arched in pleasure.
"And what name will I be whispering in your ears when I come inside your glorious pussy?"
I squirmed at the dirty talk. "Bella." I breathed.
He smirked and got right to work then.
This man knew exactly what he was doing. Five minutes into a heavy fingering session and he'd already found my G-spot. And when I let out a wail at his probing, he dragged me to the now paper-free floor and crashed his lips with mine. I had never been kissed like this before. Never had a man made me feel things he was making me feel. I clawed his back and gyrated my hips in tandem with the pulsations of his fingers, getting impossibly more turned on.
He flipped me onto my back and pushed his tongue in my mouth, doing an inventory with his lips and his tongue. All the while, his magic fingers never ceased in their attack. I didn't know heaven was this pleasant, for it truly felt like I'd died and gone there.
"I need to be inside you." He all but pleaded when I arched my back at a particularly pleasurable stroke and lightly bit on his tongue.
"I'm on the pill. You can take me right now." I could think of nothing else as I tore the dirty little thong from my body and spread my legs wide. His eyes widened in surprise and then closed as if in prayer. "You are marvelous, Bella." He said in reverence.
And before I knew it, the top buttons were opened and his jeans were tossed aside. The boxers followed and his cock sprang free. My eyes widened in surprise. He was huge!
"See something you like?" he smirked cockily.
"I'd rather see it inside here." I bristled, pointing to my dripping pussy.
"Your wish in my command." He growled and before I realized what was happening, he opened my legs wider and pushed inside me roughly. He filled me completely and never had I felt such passion. I moaned and arched and shouted and banged my fists on the floor as he moved in and out, in and out, with a timed precision, hitting my G every single time. It felt as if the whole world could hear my screams for more and yet there was no one else but him and me.
And it was then, when I was at the precipice of my climax that I felt him shudder and we came together in a quiet frenzy.
He collapsed on top of me, both of us spent, our breathing hard and labored, with his face buried in my chest.
"Wow." His voice was husky as he licked the valley of my breasts, the words vibrating inside me.
"Get ready for round two." I whispered back in his ear. His cock instantly hardened inside me and I moaned in pleasure. Time to let out the inner cowgirl.
"I'm taking you out to dinner tomorrow," he said, as he played with a strand of my hair after three more rounds. We both lay naked on top of each other; our clothes arranged in a neat pile courtesy my new boy-toy. "Just not at the deli on the other side of the street. They serve terrible pork."
"Come feel the sheets, Edward." I called out, splaying myself on the newly sheeted bed. The 300 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets felt divine to touch and I couldn't wait to get my freak on with Edward on them.
We had been setting up his new apartment for three days now. A couple of people had tried to help but Edward's nagging had driven them away. Turn this couch three degrees more, tilt that photo to the east, no, not south-east, just east, did you really get a degree in Stanford? Yeah. It was pretty difficult getting along with him.
"No, no Bella!" he came bustling inside at the mention of his beloved sheets, "I just took them out of the dryer! You can't sleep on them for another five hours."
"But I don't want to sleep on them for another five hours." I said suggestively, twirling a strand of hair on my finger.
He cleared his throat, obviously understanding the double-meaning behind my words.
"I-It's a Five Hour Rule, Bella." He stuttered, so adorable. I just licked my lips. "I need to leave." He made a hasty retreat and I heard the door of the other room close. I let out a frustrated sigh. There was no way I was waiting a full five hours to fuck him on these glorious sheets.
I was not too worried though, I always got my way with him, even if it drove him nuts at times.
"Bella, we cannot afford to be anymore late." He called out exasperatedly.
Edward hated being late with a passion.
"I'm not ready yet Edward!" I called out from inside the bathroom and I heard him curse. I totally was but I couldn't help pushing his buttons. It was my favorite pass time.
Edward and I had been dating for the past one month. Our first date had been fairly successful, in the sense that we got a lot of talking done before moving on to the more fun parts. He took me to a fine dining restaurant (which had passed all his safety tests) and then told me all about his tendencies, greatly explaining his weird behavior. He gave me an out very early on in the evening, but I couldn't think of much else other than the fact that he was wearing a suit. And that man could wear a suit like no one else. I almost swooned at the sight.
Now I don't really have a single compassionate bone in my body (I am a lawyer after all), but the more I listened to him talk, the more I understood where he was coming from. Abandoned by his parents at a very early age and adopted by people who were negligent at best, he had understood in advance that the only thing he had any control of in this world was his own life. And hence started the obsessive need to plan.
He told me I was a sort of wrench in said plans of his but, after having had a nervous breakdown and a very introspective self-talk, he had realized he couldn't do without at least trying something with me.
To say I was apprehensive would be an understatement. I almost walked out twice. But in the end, I decided I too couldn't do without at least trying something with him. And we ended up having so much fun by the time the date ended that I agreed to another date with him before he even had a chance to ask.
The following month was spent treading new waters, learning each other's idiosyncrasies, and major change in habits on my part. Now my fellow feminists would probably bristle at the very idea of me changing myself because of a man, but I figured a little compromise would not kill me if that meant that I got to keep the connection I had with Edward. For as they so eloquently say; when you know, you know. And that was that.
So for the next month I picked up after myself, consciously folded my laundry and kept every surface shining whenever I invited Edward over to my place and by principle didn't touch anything when I went over to his.
I also never complained when I found my underwear drawer arranged by color and preference (his not mine) after he left, I just reversed the order every time to mess with him. In time I even started finding it a little cute.
I learned he was a freelance worker, working from home mostly and, even though the cash-flow was not as steady, it meant he didn't have to interact much with "messy humans" and that was all that mattered to him. "You're my exception, of course, sweetheart." He had smiled, kissing my head sweetly.
Today we were going out again, but I was feeling exceptionally horny and really didn't want to go anywhere. But Edward had reservations, and reservations (and getting to them on time) were things of great importance in his life, so I complied.
Finally, after a few warnings of an anxiety attack, I emerged from the bathroom wearing my favorite mini purple strapless bow top dress, completely appropriate for clubbing, completely whorish for where we were going.
I saw a muscle twitch on Edward's forehead when he saw me. Though whether it was because he was turned on or annoyed at my dress choice I couldn't tell (I was secretly hoping for the former even though annoying him was always fun).
He helped me into my coat (such a gentlemen, isn't he?) and drew me close as we battled the cold wind to get into his car.
"Are these new interiors?" I asked, surprised at the texture and smell of new leather.
He nodded, visibly happy that I'd noticed.
"But these must have cost a fortune and you don't even like black." I was not complaining really, just stating facts.
"Well," he began sheepishly, "You said you liked them and I thought I'd do something nice for you for putting up with me."
This revelation hit me like a two by four. I remembered telling him in passing how boring I thought his beige interiors were and how in my humble opinion black would make for a nice change. I couldn't believe he actually went out and got his precious car upholstered in a color he didn't even like, for me. An outsider would think that to be a small compromise on his part, but I knew better. Edward never did anything he wasn't a 100% comfortable with and this gesture was an equivalent of him moving mountains for me, telling me I was here to stay.
I never thought I would be that girl; the one that got emotional over really inconsequential things, but I truly felt moved. That was when I realized just how much Edward (warts and all) had come to mean to me and with that realization came the desire. I knew we were already late, but I took a chance and threw myself at him, peppering him with kisses.
He was taken aback but lost no time in responding to my fevered lust with a searing kiss that rivaled the all the best ones he'd given me thus far. It was all tongue and passion and Edward. I had never been kissed that way before. It was as if he understood exactly what I was trying to tell him.
Soon I felt the heater turn on and the coat come off. My Edward was always thorough. My hands pulled at the buttons of his starched shirt and soon that fell to the ground as well. I was vaguely aware that we were still parked in the middle of the street and would probably get arrested for indecent exposure in public or some shit like that but at the moment I doubted I would care if we were thrown in jail. I was sure we would pick up right where we left off.
I put one hand on the wheel and one on the gear stick as Edward ran his hands up my thigh, stroking my hair and kissing me hungrily.
I pushed him away a little so that I could free his hungry cock. I couldn't believe how wild he was being, pushing his jeans down to his knees himself when I just couldn't go fast enough.
I quickly reclined his seat with my free hand as he found the zipper and slipped my dress down, revealing my nipples, hard and ready to be sucked on. I was now dressed in nothing more than my fishnet stockings.
"Do you know how inappropriate that dress was Bella?" He growled, parting my legs with his other hand and stroking the crotch of my stockings. "And do you know how unsuitable these stocking are?"
"Tear them off then, Edward, be a filthy boy." My voice sounded provocative and sultry to my own ears as I reclined further, submitting to him.
His eyes turned dark with lust as he looked up and down my body and he snarled as he ripped the tights with both hands, roughly slipping two fingers deep inside my slick pussy. He thrust his fingers hard and fast and I moaned loudly for him to slow down, wrapping my thighs tightly around his arm.
"I need to fuck you. I need that cunt now!" He moaned breathlessly, licking his fingers one by one.
"Then take me." I challenged, "And don't show any mercy!"
We hurriedly and awkwardly shifted positions until I was lying on the passenger seat and Edward mounted me, my hand gripping his throbbing shaft to guide him inside my wet, throbbing clit. I moaned loudly as his cock buried deep inside my pussy, opening my legs as wide as I could, while desperately trying to avoid hitting the windshield with my heel.
He thrust harder, the lack of space not slowing him down even an inch. It was as if he loved being in control and in this position, I could do nothing more than submit to him. He took my face tightly into his hands and effectively pinned me down, taking control and using my body as his toy.
I couldn't believe how much I was enjoying this submission; it was as if my entire being was showing the finger to my inner feminist.
He continued to pound, whispering dirty words in my ears. There was nothing gentle about him tonight and I was sure I wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow. Soon I felt the spasms of my climax overtake me, and I let out a scream, not being able to handle the sheer force of the orgasm. Edward followed soon after, his groans of pleasure mingling with my own.
I was sure that when I looked back on this night, I would remember a lot of banging and moans for more as he pounded into me and made what should have been awkward and bumbling car sex into one of the best sexual experiences of my life.
Needless to say, we never made the reservation.
He told me later that night, when we were wrapped up in bed, food and everything else forgotten, that he loved me, because apparently I was the only person who had ever managed to make him forget about an advance booking and not freak out about it. I told him I loved him back because he was a class A douche.
From then on I knew all I had to do was flash a little skin and that man would putty in my hands. It was seriously laughable just how malleable such an organized man could be at my will. I remember manipulating him into christening the small kitchen counter, the dingy couch, the rackety dining table (that one was really difficult because of Edward's affinity to food hygiene, but I made up his mind when I told him he would technically be eating my pussy anyway), the four walls and the floor of his bedroom, the tiny bathroom and every other surface you could think of (each one was meticulously scrubbed clean afterwards obviously).
But my fondest memory was of us doing it on his grand piano. He played the teacher while I was the over-eager student; it was the most erotic experience of my life.
He looked absolutely ravishing bent over the piano, his shoulders taut, his eyes shut tightly as he tried to remember the notes to a fairly complex piece. It was a warm night, warmer than most at least and I was crashing at his place. I had to get my work finished and filed before tomorrow but I could think of nothing more than the glorious sight of a shirtless Edward playing the grand piano with a deliberate precision so sexy I almost came just by looking at him.
"Teach me?" I asked him, settling between his thighs when I couldn't take anymore. I needed him and I needed him now.
"Anything for you, my love." He breathed in my ear. Then taking both my hands in his, he placed them on two different keys, positioning them a little. We started hitting a few random notes, his strong hands and nimble fingers acting as a guide.
It was when we were perfecting E minor that I felt him shift a little. Edward Jr. had finally come out to play and I almost let out an excited squeal. He shifted again and I shifted with him, squirming a little so that my ass was positioned just at the head. I leaned back my head into his chest and rubbed by ass on his dick a little. His hands hit the piano keys randomly, producing an ugly thunk.
"Losing focus, my dear?" I asked him sweetly, licking his jaw. He clenched his thighs suddenly and cupping my pussy, pushed me further into his chest.
"Sit still." He ordered, his hand still cupping my pant-clad pussy, providing friction, but just not enough. I rubbed my thighs involuntary.
"I said, sit still, Isabella." He ordered, increasing the sweet pressure and then releasing my pussy again.
"Yes, Maestro." I said, hanging my head in mock-shame. I heard him groan at my use of that word.
"You love teasing me, don't you?" he asked, breathing into my neck, his cock now fully hard.
"Oh yes, Maestro, yes, yes, yes…" I breathed, enjoying the tease and his discomfort.
Suddenly Edward reached into my bra and found my erect nipple. Rubbing it in between his fingers, he moved his hand to my right breast and tweaked it, gripping the full areola between his thumb and pointer finger. I moaned in pleasure my head falling back into his chest, interlocking my fingers with his, still on the piano keys.
This seemed to spur him on as he slid off my shirt, and opened my bra, letting the straps fall off my shoulders, leaving my breasts bare.
"Give me an E minor." He ordered and began circling both nipples with his index fingers. I let out an embarrassing moan at the intense pleasure his ministrations gave me.
"Now, now," he chastised, "That wasn't an E minor, was it?" He tilted me to the side gently and put his tongue on one of my taut nipples. A rush of pleasure danced between my legs, and I felt my clitoris starting to swell. I moaned again.
"That's better but not quite accurate," I heard him tease.
"Please Edward," I begged, desperate for him to touch me where I needed it most. My begging seemed to have the desired effect as he moved his hands down from my breasts, tracing his fingertips down my belly. He went for the button on my jeans and popped it open with a flick of his wrist. Slowly he reached inside my panty to touch my pussy and let out a gasp, smiling at how wet I already was.
He picked me up a little to pull my jeans and underwear down, revealing my naked shaved skin.
"Look at you," he whispered almost reverently, his eyes making a quick inventory of my naked form. Seeing him like this brought on a whole new wave of excitement, heating and smoothing the goose-bumps into skin.
He gently turned me around and placed me on the piano, the keys clanging at the point of contact. Slowly he brought my legs up and apart, propping my feet on the bench on either side of him, holding me tightly by the waist lest I fall.
I let out a long breath, as he brushed the fingers of his right hand down through my wet folds. The quick spasm of pleasure it caused took my breath away, and I was hot and ready enough to quake. He tickled the opening of my cunt while pressing my clit against the palm of his hand. He didn't have to rub long before my hips were moving of their own volition, creating an almost frenzied ruckus as they came down on the keys, and he slipped two fingers inside me.
"The sounds you make are sweeter than any music I've created, Isabella." He whispered into my ear as I continued my incomprehensible moaning.
Soon I heard the rustling of clothes as his jeans came off too, his cock springing free. It was hard and erect and simply a sight to behold. I wanted to devour him.
He spread my legs further apart and put his cock at my throbbing entrance, almost teasing my pulsing pussy.
"Do it, Maestro." I cried and that seemed to do it for him.
I gave out a moaning a cry of ecstasy as he slid his dick wholly into me, engulfing it tightly in my hot cunt. I gasped as he slid in and out of it, until I was bobbing with ferocious intensity.
My moans grew louder, closer together, my buttocks clenching with every thrust. My eyes rolled back in my head as he clenched my nipple until it was a dark, passionate crimson.
Then with a final thrust, I felt him empty himself into me as my own orgasm rocketed through my limbs, leaving me lifeless and breathless.
"That was –"
"Yeah." We were both breathless as he rested his head on my chest.
"Care for another lesson?" he grinned.
"Bring it on, Maestro."
And what followed was the best performance Edward had ever given on his piano.
And now Edward had left me high and dry. I could hear him in the other room, unpacking the numerous boxes that were scattered all over the floor.
I had not been a very sexual person prior to Edward coming into my life. But his mere presence seemed to ignite in me a passion I had never felt before. I had never surrendered myself so completely to a man before and I would not take back a minute of it.
I remembered the night he'd won the lottery. He'd spun me into the air and kissed me passionately.
"This is all because of you. Bella," he'd told me, "No one has pushed me into so many different directions or believed in me so wholeheartedly. The money, the comfort will mean nothing without you. I don't want it." He had then placed a hand on my heart, "But this I want forever, more than any other thing in the world. I love you."
We had made love then, the lottery and the world forgotten as we lay wrapped up into each other till the wee hours of the morning.
The other day we had collected the prize money, shared our story with the press and gone apartment hunting. It seemed as if we had come to a mutual understanding, as if we were meant to be together. Yin and yang, black and white, co-existing in peace.
The days that followed his big win were spent in a frenzy of suddenly revived friendships and meetings with relatives. Edward managed to keep his head about him most of the time, but I could sense the loss of privacy haunting him and making him grumpy. We found less and less time for ourselves and by the time night came we'd be too exhausted from entertaining guests to do much more than cuddle and sleep.
Today was a rare exception, people had mostly left us at peace today and I had really wanted to get a few moments alone with Edward before madness descended upon us again. But apparently "Five Hour Rules" were more important to him than my pussy. Now I knew that realistically we could have sex anywhere we wanted, but I wanted our first time in his new home to be on the king size bed with its Egyptian Cotton sheets.
Fuck him and his rules, if Edward refused to play, I would take matters into my own hands.
Determined, I propped myself on my knees and unbuttoned my shirt, watching it fall off my shoulders in the mirror facing me. I unzipped my pencil skirt, and stood up a little to remove it completely. All I was wearing now was a black lacy thong and matching black bra. I appraised my attire and fell back again on the bed, spread eagled.
I just lay there, listening to my own breathing, the soft, satiny sheets caressing my body. I let images run through my head, of Edward, his face when we make love, and every erotic moment spent with him.
I thought about the night I had won my first case since we'd started dating. I was in a celebratory mood and it was the first time I had given Edward a blowjob. The memory made me smile; as I remembered his face when I told him I wanted to suck him dry. I remembered the length of his erection and the noises he made when I took him in my mouth. I felt my pussy twitch and looked down to see my own nipples erect and ready. I wanted to squeeze them, hold my breast in my hand and bring it up to my mouth to lick it, suck it hard, bite it like he'd done countless of times.
My mind raced back over the images of that night when I sucked him, his hand at the back of my neck as he guided my head, his moans of pleasure and the look of surprise when he discovered that I lacked a gag-reflex.
While my head was full of these memories, my hands had found my breasts. I ran my hands over the lace fabric of my bra, tracing circles getting closer and closer to my aching nipples. I needed to feel skin and soon I found myself unclasping my bra. My nipples were between my fingers and I was tweaking hard, feeling jolts of current through my whole body right down to my pussy – now wet, I could feel from the fabric clinging, and swollen, sensitive, aching to be played with.
I pulled at my tits again, making myself moan loudly for the first time this evening, and I had to consciously keep it down in case Edward heard me. I couldn't wait any longer: I pushed both breasts up to my face and licked desperately at each nipple in turn. All the while, the memories played in my mind.
I propped myself on my elbows to see myself in the mirror with my tits now exposed and excited. I pulled off my high heels and flopped down again. I slipped my hands into my panties and pulled them away feeling the dampness on them from my juice.
Settling back onto the headboard, my hands moved back to my nipples, squeezing again, but my body was desperate for more now. My mental images skipped further along in that night, to a moment when I was riding on my Edward's thick cock, riding him hard and fast. Remembering this I let my hands slide down my body. By the time my fingers found my pussy it was swollen and dripping wet.
I began to play with my cunt, sliding my fingers gently deliberately and teasingly between the lips. I dipped my finger right into my pussy and pulled it out soaking wet, then dragged it across both of my nipples, enjoying the exquisite tingle that passed through me.
Again I let the images assault me. Edward's glorious dick and the way he made love to me, sliding in and out of me, slow and fast, knowing exactly what my body wanted. Dreaming about it, I finally let my fingers settle on the bud of my clit, now throbbing for a touch. With one hand I fingered my tight pussy, reaching and rubbing desperately; with the other, I softly circled my oversensitive clit. Everything was wet, and I felt tremors start to build in my thighs.
I could concentrate on nothing now but the sensations growing inside me. My fingers rubbed hard against my clit, the other hand pounding harder and harder at my hole. It was so tight, so wet, I couldn't stand it: with a final flick of my clit I felt my whole body contract as I exploded into an orgasm, Edward's name on my lips and his face in my mind.
My fingers, soaking, fell limply to my side as my body seemed to collapse after the intensity of the orgasm. I smiled to myself. Returning to reality, I turned onto my side, spent, exhausted, exhilarated. It was at that moment I saw Edward across the room. In my excitement I hadn't heard him come in, but there he was, leaning on the doorway, lust dancing in his eyes.
"How dare you touch yourself when I'm not around?" he growled, advancing towards the bed, lust the predominant expression on his face.
"You're not the boss of me." I said defiantly, feeling my clitoris turn wet at his tone.
"No I am not, but I am the boss of that glorious pussy, and no one touches it without my permission." He said, pouncing on top of me, effectively caging me beneath his body. I could feel his erection as he rubbed it on my leg.
"Now I'll have to touch you and fuck you, just to undo what you did in here."
"What about the rules?" I asked, breathless and turned on as his weight bore down upon me.
"What rules?" he asked, "We will make the rules baby. You and I." He then dipped down to kiss me hungrily while I removed his jeans.
"Now let's show the sheets how it properly done." He growled.
And as he pounded into me through the night, it would be safe to say I got what I wanted. Again.
A/N: Please review. I would love to read what you think of my attempt.