EPOV

Every man has a hobby.

It's true; go ask your next door neighbour or the middle aged, balding man at the end of your street. Everyone from the Pope to the bagging boy at your local supermarket will tell you the same thing. Teens wank, men golf and children -the prepubescent ones- do models or make some fucking paper planes.

As a small child my hobby was playing the black piano that graced out living room floor. I was very good and grew accustomed to the many claps at my family's get-togethers, but I soon tired off that. In my teens my right hand grew attached to my dick and it's never left, I hadn't grown tired off wanking off to the pictures in my Harley magazine, the clean-up was a tad tedious, though. The early twenties brought along more to be than fucking random bitches, drinking Jack Daniels and graduating from Summa Cum Lade with honours, I had started my own business entitled: Liquitech.

But now, at the age of 29, I was bored with the prospects of fucking and leaving with a sore back, drinking and awaking with a headache and graduating again didn't seem as tantalising as I'm sure it sounds. Liquitech was as successful as ever, stock prices rising clear over any other architecture company and my bank account swelled with interest.

I had invested in my brother's car business but grew tired of his nattering over the engine or his marriage to one of the Harley magazine models. Emmett was a lucky fucker but his wife was far from the most beautiful woman in the glossy pages. My adopted brother Jacob was running a very sophisticated interior design shop with my mother, Esme, and had furnished my own lavish home.

The soothing music of the bar turned into a massive collision of beats and tunes and I recoiled further into my leather jacket. The bar was different to most others in New York; there was a dance floor with the night club theme and a private bar at the end for us less dancy, more sophisticated flock. I nursed my Jack Daniels and turned the amber liquid inside of the confides of the glass, my own calming drug lay within the depths of alcohol and the anticipation lined my tongue.

I chose to be single this year, my last relationship was unsatisfying and sex with Jane turned out to be as floppy as a dead fish, she had no passion under the thick mousse that covered her face. Tanya and her sister Kate were no good. Two of them at once was a fun experience but Tanya was too clingy and Kate didn't have a deep enough throat, can't God make one woman right?

Don't get me started on Soul Mates. Alice, my sister, talked constantly about meeting 'the one' and that one day she would meet hers. Didn't stop her from sucking ever dick flaunted her way, but that wasn't her hobby. Alice loved dance and worked as a ballerina for a small end dance class, it was her dream and she loved every second.

My newest hobby differs from the planes or the golf; it's actually a weird hobby... kind of stalkerish actually.

I loved watching the high class men be turned down, smothered in their lost dignity and discarded by the most beautiful woman in the bar.

I had been watching this woman for a while, seeing her delicious curves, tight breasts and creamy skin for a month. She was delightful, her face clear with a strawberry hue that tingled her cheeks, her lips were dark and a succulent red that parted around her Budweiser. Her hair was long, thick and brown with tingled of red splashed over the roots and her eyes -wide, framed by a thick set of lashes- were the lightest blue.

A fucking goddess that made my cock painfully hard whenever I nodded casually at her. She found me hot too, I could tell by the way she crossed her legs when I smiled at her sexy ass, or maybe it was the size of my monster hard-on.

So yes, I was a stalker, but she was my newest hobby. Not only did she fill up my wank-bank, work stories but she even filled up the criteria for my future wife, and I hadn't even spoken to her yet. Every time I sucked up the courage to talk to her some loser with greasy hair, a fake goatee and a stinky ass approached her with their lame lines.

I nodded to the bar man who filled up my glass and, upon routine, passed another one along to the stunning woman. She smiled in thanks and turned back to her drink with rapt fascination. It's not like I didn't want to talk to her but she never approached me either, perhaps it was fate intervening and keeping me from my cock's queen. Remind me, why is God such an asshole?

I poured down the last amount of the Jack and wiped my mouth with the back of my jacket sleeve and left a fair amount of money on the bar before making my way to the elevator. There were several luxurious apartments above the bar. The bar was called Quintessential, purely for the definition of the name and that it was, as suggested, the purest or most perfect example of something.

As the doors were about to swing shut a soft, tiny hand came between them and pushed them apart, the fucking goddess had came back to reclaim my cock and make it rise. I slid to the other side of the elevator and allowed her in. She looked sinful in a little black dress with a generous amount of cleavage peaking through, her fuck hot legs were encased in tall fuck me boots.

"Thank you," her melodious voice covered my cock in its own condom.

"You're welcome...?" I left a gap for her name but she merely shook her curls at me, her delightful scent washing over me. I wish I had her panties... I'd love to fucking wrap that shit around my cock before covering it in my filthy cum. I stifled a groan and smiled cockily at her. "I'm Edward,"

"Bella,"

Ah, beautiful, the name rolled of my tongue and sent shivers of anticipation down my spine. I could imagine her screaming out my name... on the couch, the shower, the wall... as she clenched around my cock, even as I bent her over my desk and fucked her beautiful brains out.

"Do you live in the building, Bella?" She flashed me a wide smile. "Which floor?"

Bella's laughed filled the small space and she winked at me. "You probably get off before I do."

I gaped at her before regaining my mind... in my head and in my cock.

"Care to try it out, Bella?"

"Oh, I'd love to get you off, Edward, but here's my stop."

The elevators pinged and she stepped out into a small hallway with three doors, she flashed me another smile and swayed her hips down the hallway.

"Goodnight Bella,"

The doors slid shut and I soon found myself bent over my toilet, cock in hand and releasing my hot cum down the toilet. I imagine holding her hips, watching as she lowered herself over my cock and begged like a bitch as she rode me, worked me over until I'd filled her up with my seed. I cleaned up my dick before changing into fresh boxers, my mother rang but I let the voice-mail roll over.

'Edward, honey, it's your mother. I 'm in town and I hoping to meet you for dinner; I hope you can join us. I met a beautiful girl the other day at the hospital, I think-

I deleted the message and grabbed myself a can of bud before settling in front of the TV. I flickered aimlessly through the channels before I fell asleep, horrid dreams flashing before my eyes.

Then, once the horrid dreams faded, I was left on my own, sweat rolling down my spine and fear potent in the air. I peeled myself off the expensive couch and slid into my silk bed sheets with ease, the large bed empty and cold.

There were no pictures in my room, nothing personal apart from a quilt my mother and grandmother had stitched for me; it was a very detached home. I sighed, flipped over and snuggled deeper into the soft silk.

I was alone.

I would only ever be alone.

Quintessential Love

Light peppered through my bleary eyes and I blinked under the harsh scrutiny. I dressed in my tie and suit before flickering on the coffee machine. I looped my slate tie through itself and buttoned up my T-Shirt over my sexy as ass abs. Running my fingers through my mane, I turned on the teliviosn, watching the horror of a car crash splash out over the screen.

The coffee sloshed down my throat and scalded my tounge but the bitter sweet taste shocked me into overdrive. My sleek Audi covered the roads in her grace perfectly and slithered in and out of lanes with ease. I pulled up to the fifty story building displaying the proud 'Liquitech,' sign.

It was a cloudless day in New York and the weather was a sketchy 34 degrees. I was bombarded by work, greetings and a dashing of Coffee that my stupid assastant decided to pour down my Gucci shirt.

"I'm Sorry, Mr. Cullen." Angela cried and handed me a couple of wet napkins.

"Don't worry, It's only a 500 dollar shirt. I'll just take it to the dry cleaners." I smiled easily and tilted my head, grabbed the stack of papers from her trembling limbs.

"Are you sure, sir? I-"

"Of course I'm not fucking sure you idiot! This is a 500 dollar shirt!" I'm sure my face was seven shades of purple as I splutered at her with my caniverous rage. "Get me a coffee, Angela, and pick up your dignity on the way out."

I scanned quickly through the papers, signing documents and slurping a freshly delivered coffee every hour. I had managed to sift through quite the work load in the space of three hours. My office was on the very top floor giving it a beautiful view across the sky-line of New York. The Sun was slowly waddling through the blue, hazy sky, turning it's heat lazily upon the bodies lounging below. My eyes closed and I allowed myself to get trapped within my thoughts, always a dangerous thing to do at work, espically if your the boss.

I grew up around the tall building off New York. I marvelled at the high swoops, glossy mirrors and the succseful aura that seemed to roll off every gignatic tower. My father, Carlisle, worked in a small law firm down on 66th avenue and everytime he had to go to work or take me to school, he'd take the long drive so I could see my buildings. Carlisle was a good and noble man, he loved my mother and I loved him as much as I did my real father, Edward Sr. who was just some pathetic drunk that loved to hit his wife.

"Mr. Cullen?" Angela's germ filled voice coughed through the reciever.

I pushed down the red button and snarled. "Yes?"

"I have a Mr. Black here to see you."

I sighed, rubbing my fore-head in frustration. "Send him in, Angela."

"Yes, Mr-"

I cut her off and attempted to soothe my hay-stack of hair. Jacob was, if anything, a huge man. His russet arms were filled with pouches of muscle, he and Emmett trained extensivley in their spare time, either that or they were fucking their partners. Jacob loved doing the same things as my sister; shopping, lougning and sucking cock. Jacobs boyfriend, Sam, loved doing exactly the same thing, even though he was a manager on my firms Constrution crew.

"Edward! Man, it's been so long." Jacob beamed and slid into my room, closing the large glass doors behind him.

"Hey, I was just going to head out for lunch, do you want to come with?"

Jacob's brown eyes dipped sadly. "Sorry man, Sam's waiting with Angela. I just came in to say hi."

"Oh."

"You can come if you want!" He amended quickly but stopped when I raised an eyebrow. "Ok, Ok! Do you need me to bring you anything back? A sandwhich?"

"How about a new back?"

Jacob chuckled. "Just go to a spa, dude. No one will thing you girly for it!"

I stood and collected my jacket from the peg, slipping it on easily. "Says the gay guy."

"Or you could ask the, uh, how did you phrase it? Sexy Minx from the bar to do it for you,"

I had told Jacob about Bella the first time I saw her. Whilst I commented on how feisty she would be, he talked about how clear her 'pores' or some shit were. He was such a girl when it came to stuff like that but, then again, I did plan on marrying that 'Bella' so any idea of just fucking her had better fly out of my head.

"One step closer, my brother."

"Til what?"

I shrugged. "I got her name. Bella, that's it but I'm closer."

Grinning, he pulled out his little silver phone and tapped off in short bursts. "I am so telling mom about this!"

I rolled my eyes. My obsession with Bella was a family joke, whilst my mother was proud I wanted to arry this girl, emmett was taking bets on wether or not I could score a girl like that. Rosalie, his wife, was not amused that he found another girl remotley attractive and almost called off thier flingy marriage.

"Mom said family dinner tomorrow, be there by seven."

"Do I need to bring abything?"

Jacob slipped the dainty phone into his jacket pocket and tightened the pale fuschia scarf around his neck.

"Maybe if you answered her calls you'd know."

"Don't start, Jake." I groaned.

"Fine, you can't run forever Edward. It wasn't you fault, okay?"

"I know, Jake," I snapped, "I know. It's her fault. She should've done something instead of stadning there like some, some bitch who-urg!" My fists tightened until the skin was pulled over the bone tightly, my breathing coming out in short rasps. "I'll be there, okay?"

Jacob nodded and scampered out of the doors, silently clicking them in place on his way out. I was too angry to go out now. I was afraid I'd bump into my mother sooner than nessacary. Seeing her brought back worse memories than I'd care to admit, but she was my mother and had raised me to be a gentleman, not in my htoughts though, I was a horny fucker in those.

I barked out at Angela to ffetch me a chicken sandwhich and a latte and settled back into my work, hours flowing by. The next time I looked out the window a blanket of black had covered the sky. THe moon, high and mighty, shone down brightly and let the stars touch some of It's magnificent light. I decided to go home a little after nine. The air had taken a chilly turn, my flimsy jacket doing little to keep the cool air away from my shuddering body.

Jacob, Emmett and I were in a local dive bar a little over two years ago. I had a fully grown beard, Jacob a mop rivalry to Justin Beiber and Emmett had just started to ease into his pajama pants phase. Jacob suddenly leaps to his feet and races across the room, catching a small man before he fell onto his feeble knees; that was Sam. Emmet had simply gone onto the dance floor, did an MC Hammer routine and left with some busty blonde. I stayed on my own until I realised that having a beard never got any woman, that was also the day I made my biting climb into my Archetecture busness.

I was usually alone. Yeah, I could get quick fucks and banging blondes but they weren't worth it... they weren't her. It is a little crazy, I do admit, to be infatuated with a woman I barely knew, but she was beautiful. She could down a scotch like it was nobodies business, cheered quietly for the patriots when they scored a touchdown and enveloped herself deeply in one of my favorite novels. So yeah, if wanted to marry a woman based on her choice of book, drink and team then sue me! It's not like we'd be doing more than fucking anyways.

I locked the grate over the elevator and turned back towards my apartment. The apartment, like all other things my mother designed, was cold and sterile when aimed at me. Cold, shiny tabletops, stiff wooden furniture and white walls to keep my insanity buried in it's depths. There were little splashed of Jacob though. Not even my mother could hide the little flairs of Jacob that peeked through, he was like trying to hide the sun from the sky... not even the thickest clouds could stop the tiny beams peeking through.

My keys clanged noisily as I threw them on the counter. Throwing my shirt into the hamper, I turned on the TV, cutting it to CNN. The balding news reported, wrinkled his nose at the latest political debate as his jugular tightened around his tie.

"In other news, did you hear about the football scores today Chuck?" The old guy growled.

"Yes I did, Lu, Yes I did. That was some kick to the gut the Vikings got today."

I paid little interest and slurped my beer, the Patriots were my team. I turned off the television and ran my fingers through the mass of unruly hair. I poured myself a splashing of whiskey and downed it fludily, the left-over chinese takeout from yesterday served as my dinner and my only camanion was the silent scrapes of my fork across the plate. I decided to call my sister, Alice, and see how her little life was going, my world was embarreaingly lonely.

She answered on the fourth ring with her chirpy 'Hello!'

"Hey, Ali,"

"What's up, Edward?" She whispered.

"Nothing, just decided I'd call -why are you whispering?"

Alice giggled, a sound she often eminated. "You'll never guess who I'm in bed with!"

"Ew, Ali. I don't need to know who you are fucking,"

"Yeah," SHe snorted. I placed the phone on speaker and shrugged out of my coffee stained shirt. "Like the 'Sexy Minx' from in the bar?"

I slipped into a tight wife-beater and some simple slacks. "You betcha, and I'm going to marry her, actually."

"Right, based on what? That she has the bluest eyes! Or the sexiest b-"

"I get it! I get it!" I interupted, laughing at her simple mind. "Who are you fucking 'O magical Alice!"

Alice giggled, "Well, you now how the playoff's were yesterday?" I nodded to myself. "Well I went to this cute little bar on the edge of town, right? and I bumped into the Patriot's quaterback."

"Your in bed with Jasper Swan?"

"Yep."

I couldn't stop th enext words. "You lucky Bitch."

"Do you want to be in bed with him?"

"No! But he's, ya know, amazing. I mean, what I wouldn't give to meet him."

"You may have a chance, he's taking me out to dinner tommrow." Muffelled sounds eminated from the phone. "I've got to go, Edward. See you tommorow, okay?"

"By-" I was cut off. Even my own sister didn't want to speak with me. I could've tried Emmet but that wouldn't have gone down well, he would want ot got to the bar and try to hit on my girl.

Another thing about being a stalker was that one must ensure he knows her scedule. Occasionally she would be late but would arrive at ten o'clock every night with some osrt of revealing outfit that made my dick weep. I wanted to talk to her, make her mine and senslessly fuck her, but I coudln't bring up the corage to do so. I wasn't shy by any means but this girl was my future wife, that was some pressure on my broad, beautiful shoulders.

Hmm, I do look yummy in this shirt.

I turned in front of the mirror and admired my long stretches of muscles, if this didn't pull her in I don't know what will. Alice had told me to spray on some purfume in order to get her, Jacob told me to wear a bright yellow vest and peacock myself towards her... Emmett said to simply get her alone and 'Bang the shit out of her...' His words, not mine.

So, this was my hobby. In fact it was my families hobby as well; they loved relentlessly teasing me about Bella.

So yeah, your dad? He has a hobby, just don't catch him doing it. Your brother? He has one too, hopefully its playign on his PS3 and not playing with any other organs. But me? Some random guy that's pouring his heart out to you? My hobby is watching a beautiful girl turn down some lame guys and hopeing that one day she wont say no to me, but she'll say yes instead.