Rated AO has sex scenes of a semi-graphic nature. And lots of talk about blow jobs. Form the Twilight Fandom.
The Storm - by Izbels
Bella attempted to thump her head as quietly as she could against the table in front of her. Seriously, how did this guy get to keep his job? She watched as he again managed to turn her painstaking research into lines straight out of a Playboy magazine. And yet somehow he was Queensland's highest rating weather forecaster.
It wasn't forecasting. It was foreplay.
"With Cyclone Anthony forecast for the Top End, expect some fully fledged blowing action to occur. Hold onto your delicates; they are going to get ripped away during this one. To add to this, there will be some intense moisture building up. Building, building, until finally it will be released in a burst of activity later this evening."
She looked around. Was she the only one listening to this pornographic description of the weather?
"With Brisbane recently flooded when the Wivenhoe damn spewed forth its contents on unsuspecting South-Easterners, we are now hoping that Anthony doesn't cause the same kind of destruction."
She was beyond grumpy now. This guy was just taking the piss. "Hello Captain Double Entendre, we have a violation, a code 69, emergency response required..."
To make matters worse, she had to go with him to Townsville so that they could film some live footage of the effects of the cyclone. She was flying up with him immediately after his current report. She crankily packed her lap top and grabbed her bags, while waiting for him to come out of his dressing room.
He looked stunning as usual; he really was an amazing looking man. Earlier tonight he had been wearing a dark navy blue suit that made his eyes look just that bit more fucking beautiful. Now, he was wearing a pair of jeans and a grey non-descript hoodie, which was undeniably sexy in a low key casual way.
He made other weathermen look positively decrepit and ugly. Interestingly, it seemed he'd been hired for his looks, because over the last 5 years his weather reports hadn't actually been very accurate. Her predecessor, a balding ancient man called Aro, had been sacked as Edward's researcher. She'd taken Aro's place and now the predictions were 97% accurate. They were a good pairing; she was the brains and he was the face.
She recalled a friend from university who'd told people he worked in insurance rather than saying he was a meteorologist, as he normally got a mouthful of abuse, including such statements as, "Oh, I wish I didn't have to be accurate at all and still keep my job."
She'd developed a computer program that assisted her in ensuring—as long as the data entered was correct—that she would get a relatively accurate forecast every time. She was still in the testing phase and had managed to keep her six-year-long project under-wraps. She hoped to sell it for a substantial return on her investment when it was ready and not have to work for pretty faced puppets like Edward ever again. His university degree hadn't even been science based. He was a journalist for crying out loud!
Bella met Edward outside. The taxi that had been called arrived on time to take them through the disaster that was currently Brisbane's roads. She was surprised when he took her bags from her and put them in the trunk, acting like quite the gentleman, and then opened the door for her.
In a car that had the familiar smells of sweat, garlic and tandoori, she'd thought she wouldn't enjoy the trip to the airport. She was wrong. Edward proceeded to turn to her and ask the one question that she was not prepared to answer.
"So why do you hate my guts? Am I a shitty colleague?"
Bella thought for a moment about her answer. No, she didn't hate his guts. She thought he was a pretty boy with little understanding of the science behind what he called 'reporting the weather'. Did she think he was a shitty colleague? No, not really. He got her coffee every morning, he made sure she had plenty of space in their shared cubicle, he tolerated her incessant data entry and tapping on her laptop, he bought her afternoon tea every second day... Oh shit! He was a fantastic colleague. She was a shit.
"Oh shit, Edward. I'm so sorry. I just… Crap! How do I put this?" She was grabbing for words.
Edward interjected with his take on the situation. "You think I don't understand the intricacies of the science that is meteorology. That all I am is a pretty puppet, who uses your amazing data and predictions for my own personal benefit, while keeping you out of the limelight. Do you want my job too?"
"No, I don't want your job!" She looked at him in genuine shock.
"I fucking hate TV cameras. I hate talking to people most of the time and I can't string an interesting sentence of words together if I try. I am a scientist not a journo. I like what I'm doing at the moment by the way." She calmed her voice down. "And I'm sorry I'm a shitty colleague. I maybe don't respect you or something like that and I don't keep my feelings under control so well sometimes. My mum says I wear my heart on my sleeve. Apparently I also wear my bitch-face on my face and my arsehat on my head sometimes too. I apologise if I don't take you seriously."
"This has been a very therapeutic taxi ride and we haven't even made it to the inner-city bypass yet."
"As long as we don't go in the Clem7 Tunnel. Something about a tunnel going under the river seems unnatural to me," Bella shuddered.
Edward smirked, "I don't have an aversion to any tunnel."
She giggled and covered her mouth.
"Holy shit, I just made myself sound like a male slut." He changed his voice to impersonate an effeminate man. "Sweetheart, I love myself a good tunnel. Long, dark, winding... Even Clem, I would totally do him, even though sometimes he is a total drippy mess."
"Oh fuck, that is atrocious. You sound like my gay uncle, Aunty Mike."
"You have an uncle called Aunty Mike?" Edward shook his head.
"Yes, he calls himself that. He is my godfather, but he calls himself my fairy godmother. He's been with his partner Mal for 30 something years."
"Mike and Mal... Like the Leyland Brothers?"
"Yep."
"Sorry, two gay men together, called Mike and Mal. If they like camping I might piss myself."
"Well not only are they camp, but camping is their number one favourite holiday activity."
"That's hilarious. Shit, you must have had a fun upbringing."
"Mike is great. So is Mal. But they do like to lay the gay on thick sometimes. When you just did that voice, it was like déjà vu of so many of my birthday parties. I also have so many memories of him playing My Little Pony with me for hours."
"A grown man playing with multicoloured plastic horses?"
"Yep. I learned how to plait a horse's mane from that man, as well as the importance of colour coordination of glitter and stickers. He also bought me my first heels. Oh, and taught me how to wear them."
"Our gay friends are truly inspirational."
They continued with the friendly banter, all the way through check–in, where they discovered that the plane they were on was relatively empty and they had been upgraded to business class. Bella guessed by the way the airline hostess was batting her eyelids and toying with her perfect fringe that she was trying to impress Edward with her all powerful people upgrading skills. Edward told the hostie that he'd only be able to accept the seat if his work colleague could be upgraded as well. Upon hearing that she was a work mate, the woman seemed to be further elated and Bella could practically see her ovaries bounce into action, as she over enthusiastically concurred that she too could be upgraded.
Bella could understand why the hostie was so flirty. There was no way would she have gotten an upgrade if it was just her standing in the queue.
"Damn," she thought. "Upgraded by a flirty bimbo." She wondered if the hostie's tactics would work on Edward and if he'd be getting into her pants anytime soon?
Just when she thought maybe they could get along. "Or get it on?" her mind suggested.
"Shut up brain," she suggested back.
"Oh, you know you want it. If he said he wanted to go into your tunnel you would turn off those toll cameras and let him in, no matter how big the vehicle." Her brain was sitting in the gutter evidently.
"Shut up brain, you are way out of line."
"Pish. I'm just gonna make your knickers wet while you think of ways to thank me later." Brain was now working wonders in her knicker area.
Bella followed Edward and the flight attendant as she steered them to their seats and watched as the woman took Edward's carry on and put it into the overhead compartment. She couldn't help but notice how this hostie-whorebag waggled her boobies back and forth as she manipulated the bag into the overhead locker.
Bella couldn't also help but notice when she told Edward in a breathless, almost Marilyn Monroesque way, "If you need anything Sir, anything at all, just call and I will come and help." She then walked off, leaving Bella with the perfect view of her skinny arse and perfectly coiffed hair.
Bella picked up her own carry on and was just about to attempt to throw it in the overhead locker, when Edward made a move to assist her. In classic Australian physical comedy style, reminiscent of Uncle Arthur from The Comedy Company, she managed, at the same moment as Edward stood up, to throw her bag into his face. He bent down clutching his nose.
"Oh Shit. Edward... Oh shit, are you alright?" Oh crap, she had probably broken his nose. 'Way to go Bells'.
"No, it's alright, just the tip... Can you get the hostie to get some ice...? Not the flirty one. The ugliest bloke you can find please."
She toddled down the plane and managed to find an older woman who readily assisted her with a small bag of ice, a wash cloth, two shot bottles of Bundaberg Rum and some cokes.
"I hope the rum is for drinking and not as disinfectant... Um, not to be vain, but does it look bad?"
"I can't tell... It's probably okay. I think a little make-up will help if the bruising comes out. There isn't any blood... I don't think." Bella stuttered out her answer.
"Do you have a mirror?"
She tried not to giggle and shook her head.
"Sorry if I come across as vain. My face is my living. Not my brains." Edward looked nearly apologetic.
"Oh, I think you are brainy enough. How you manage to make every reading, every night, a semi-pornographic presentation of the cold hard data and statistics that I give you, I think it takes a shitload of imagination."
"The bosses like that shit."
"Yes, well you have produced some classics of late."
"Well, wet weather is sexier than dry weather, believe me."
"What?" Bella was confused as to how Edward had come to this conclusion.
"Dry weather is like having a dry spell, you know, a long time without any lovin'."
"True, but you were talking about peaks and troughs a few months ago when I was watching, and quite frankly I could feel my nipples peaking and troughing a little then." Oh fuck! Did she just say that?
"Why Isabella Swan, did you just make an inappropriate sexual reference yourself?"
"I think I just did."
"Oh my god, I think I love you."
She smiled at him. He smiled at her. They were leaning in together, his forehead centimetres from hers.
Unfortunately, their sexy little moment was ruined by the flight attendant, who started presenting the usual safety procedure spiel.
Bella sat up intent on listening. She grabbed the safety card and read through it as the hostess directed. She looked for her exits, noted diligently where the track lighting would be on the floor, and reviewed the position to get into if the plane was about to crash. She laughed to herself as she looked at the safety card, it looked like the cartoon figure was managing to kiss his own arse goodbye.
"Ah, Bells, are you afraid of flying?"
"Nope."
"I call bullshit on this one, cause seriously, if you don't let go of the armrests you are gonna do some serious damage."
"Okay. Not afraid of flying. Afraid of taking off and landing. I can pretend I am driving on the road when we are flying, but when the plane is going up or coming down, that is frikkin unnatural for this much metal to do."
"Okay, well how about you hold my hand and I talk to you"
"That sounds reasonable."
"Um what do I talk about?"
"Do a weather report, anything at all please?"
"Um, okay. So Cyclone Anthony is about to come in at the Top End and give everything a good blowing, which is unfortunate for the Top End because this will be one of two cyclones that are about to come and blow everything around. The second cyclone however, an unnamed tropical low at present, will actually, when it builds up, be doing a lot of the blowing a bit further down this time. It will affect more built-up areas, where they've already developed an abundance of moisture. This moisture will create some severe problems—a ripple effect upon the entire lower regions of Queensland."
The plane completed its taxi to the final runway. It began to build up speed as it raced along the tarmac. Bella gripped Edward's hand tighter, staring intently into his eyes and willing him to continue.
"The flood gates will need to be opened again in many dams across the region, and this surge of water will culminate in pressure building upon already swollen creeks and devastated infrastructure. The cyclone will continue to put pressure in areas that need to remain untouched, until they have an opportunity to dry out. In addition to this, king tides will be adding to the tumultuous swell, pounding our shores over and over, until many of the sandbanks will weaken their resolve and finally give in to the full force and fury of everything that Mother Nature has to offer." The plane was now airborne and had steadily positioned itself along the flight path to Townsville. Edward still held her hand and she felt the spread of a blush crossing her cheeks. The seatbelt light went off and the hostess indicated that they could move about the cabin.
"That was very, err, distracting, thank you." She couldn't bring herself to extract her hand. Edward didn't seem to notice that he was still tenderly gripping her fingers either.
"I really need to go to the loo." It was true, she did. She wanted to have a few moments to herself, to get her blush in check and to possibly relieve her own bit of pressure that was developing in her own moist area. She reluctantly extracted her hand and walked down the aisle to the business class bathroom, which was surprisingly roomy. There were even some nice little toiletries inside the room. She washed her face and sat herself on top of the toilet seat. Lifting up her skirt slightly, she moved her fingers down into her lacy yet simple underwear and began to jiggle her little girl button backwards and forwards. She could feel how swollen she was from just the few minutes of dirty talk that Edward had unwittingly, or most likely wittingly, thrust upon her.
This was when she discovered something. She hadn't locked the door properly. And her mouse clicking was momentarily viewed by the next person coming into the loo.
Frikkin Edward.
They both exchanged rapid, "Oh shit! Sorry!" and Edward quickly walked out, only to walk back in half a second later and bump into her as she stood up.
"I am really sorry but that was..."
"Yeah, I know, I am so sorry. I should have shut the door properly and now I can't even look you in the eye," Bella responded, her eyes trained firmly on his shoes.
"I want to help you with your situation."
"What? My situation of how the earth should swallow me up in embarrassment, but because we are totally thousands of metres in the air, that's just not possible."
"Oh babe, I don't think we are thousands of metres in the air."
"Where are we?"
"I would say about a mile high."
"Oh..." Suddenly it clicked for her.
"Just turn around here against this wall and let me sit where you were." They did an awkward shuffle in the confined space. He sat down and ran both of his hands up her inner thighs, lifting her skirt as he went.
"Oh these are beautiful, so sad they have to come off." He pulled down her underwear and she stepped carefully out of it, making sure it didn't touch the floor. He retraced, with his hands, the former path up her thighs.
"May I?" He indicated towards her pussy.
"That would be lovely, thank you." She was fucked if she was going to forget her manners.
He slowly moved his head; his tongue teasing her inner thigh, making little trails like a snail that was drunk. Sensations developed in her woo-woo that she never remembered feeling before. His thumbs pushed against her legs, forcing them to separate and allow his tongue to make its way into the motherland. He slowly licked the full length of her opening, the warmth of his tongue piercing into her soft flesh. Then he flicked his tongue in the exact spot that made her woo-woo sing.
His long fingers started to stroke her, two of them moving inside her, using a cum-hither motion, squeezing inside of her and pushing while his tongue was working its magic externally. She gripped onto his crazy bronze coloured hair, hoping she wasn't shoving his face too hard against her and that somehow he was able to maintain oxygenation through his nose. His little murmurs of pleasure as he gently ate her out were an indication that indeed some oxygen was making its way into his system.
Suddenly Armageddon hit her pussy. Wave after wave of pulsating heated sensation was congratulating Edward upon his efforts.
She managed an, "Oh, fuck."
Edward moved away from her, straightening her skirt and handing her some rather wet feeling knickers. Once again they did the bathroom tango; him taking her place near the basin, to wash his face and hands and try to look presentable, and her, performing yoga positions as she put on her underwear.
"I wonder when we get our cards."
"What cards?" Bella looked at him, questioning his statement.
"Our membership cards to the mile high club."
"Oh, I think only I get membership." He looked at her questioning her statement.
"Edward, I'm the only one who came. But I will make it up to you, right now if you need me to." Bella started to move towards his trousers and the conundrum that was his belt.
The seatbelt sign dinged and the pilot's voice came over the speakers. "Could all passengers please make their way back to their seats? We are experiencing some turbulence."
They both sighed loudly. The sexual tension in the room was palpable.
"Okay, you hop out first. That way if anyone comes in I can deal with the staring," Edward suggested.
"That's very gentlemanly of you, I accept your offer."
Bella walked out the door, opening it slowly at first to see if there was indeed a long queue. There wasn't. She was half disappointed. She'd hoped the hostie would catch them out and she could look her in the eye and do the "I know what you just did" eye exchange.
She smoothed her skirt and walked the walk of shame back to her seat. Except she wasn't ashamed. She wanted to do it again. Maybe on the return flight?
Edward sat next to her a few minutes later.
"Now that's what I call in-flight entertainment." He put his hand on hers as the plane started to make its descent into Townsville airport.
The landing seemed less stressful for her. Partly because she had someone whispering soothing and calming words in her ear and partly because he was slowly circling his thumb around her hand and giving her occasional reassuring kisses to her temple. She loved forehead kisses.
They landed and made their way out of the terminal to the waiting van that had been sent from the local affiliated studio. Edward seemed to recognise the cameraman who came to pick them up.
"Bella, this is Jasper—one of the scariest and most daredevil cameramen you will ever meet. What the hell does your wife think about you being up here for the big blow?" Edward patted his friend on the back in a manly hello.
"She's as enthusiastic as ever. I said to her, 'It's not like its Afghanistan. It's just a bit of wind and water!'" Jasper replied.
"Speaking of wind and water, Edward, I think we should head to Ingham, it's going to be the hot spot. I'm just going to check some more data and get you a name for the tropical low." She nodded a hello/goodbye to Jasper and extracted herself into the back seat to tend to her laptop.
"Okay, research girl get on it. I'm gonna think up fifty interesting ways to say that wind is coming." Edward said.
"Dude, are you talking fart jokes or blow jobs?" Jasper enquired.
"Blow jobs. Fart jokes don't go down well, Jazz"
"Blow jobs, however, go down really well with your demographic, don't they, Edward?" Bella looked up at him from her computer, trying not to smile.
"Edward, are you screwing your researcher?" Jasper asked. There was a big grin on his face.
"No Jazz, she is a lady. I would never screw her." Edward turned to Bella in the back seat and slowly licked his lips. She returned to concentrating on her computer. He would be the death of her.
"How far to Ingham, Jazz?"
"About an hour and a half. But there isn't much traffic going in this direction, so probably quicker."
Bella watched the traffic pouring in the southerly direction as Jasper had indicated. It was the safer direction to be heading in. People were evacuating and being sensible about the weather for a change. The floods in Brisbane had taught people recently to listen to the weather reports and to follow the directions of the police. She wondered why she had let herself be talked into travelling with Edward, but these were the risks you took. He needed immediate and reliable information; he would probably be on air constantly for the next two days until the cyclone blew over.
They made their way to a local pub. It was a building that had survived every cyclone that had ever been thrown at it. Surprisingly they were able to get a few rooms. Bella in one, and the boys in the other.
Edward and Bella met in her room to get started on their report. Bella analysed her predictions and discovered the name of the bigger cyclone. This one was going to be worse than Anthony that at present was petering out.
"It's Yasi, Y-A-S-I" She informed him
"Like Yahtzee?"
"No, Edward. Yasi, as in Ya See?"
"Cyclone Yahtzee seems more fun."
"Of course, Edward, cause cyclones are a blast."
"Well, do you have all the data for me to make dirty because I think it's time to get outside."
"Can't I stay here?" Bella looked around the hotel room. It was dry and warm at least. No foreign objects were hurtling towards her face. Although, if Edward stayed in the room with her she could give him the blow job she owed him and have his foreign object hurtling near her face repeatedly. That would be rather nice, she decided.
"You could, but I need you near me and the mobile phones are going to go down during the storm. So come on data-girl, tap those wonderful little fingers of yours and get me some hard data I can use."
"I do have wonderful little fingers that make things hard," Bella smirked. She walked over to him and pulled him deeper inside the room, from where he had been standing at the doorway. She closed the door.
"I owe you one, Cullen." She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
"Am I getting more than a blow job from Yahtzee?"
"I'll make you call out Yahtzee."
She moved her hand down his chest and grabbed his junk through his trousers. He bit his lip, instantly becoming hard at your touch.
Edward looked directly into her eyes. "I have wanted to bonk your brains out since I first met you."
"Seriously, is that how you come onto a girl?" She undid his belt slowly, working her way to his button and unzipping his fly.
"No, I don't come onto girls very often."
"Oh, you prefer boys?" She continued to undress him below the belt. She noticed he was wearing Calvin Klein underwear.
"No, definitely girls. Brunettes. Brunettes with smart little mouths."
She unleashed his cock from his Calvins.
"Is it okay if I get between you and your Calvins?" she asked, biting her lip.
"Oh, god yes. Feel free to come between me and my... Oh fuck!" He hissed as she licked the top of his penis, a little bit of pre-cum making its way to her lips.
A knock at the door made them both stop.
"Come on, it's Jazz. The big blow job is gonna start kiddies. Let's move our arses!"
"Yep, coming Jazz, just going over some data." He whispered to Bella, "The big blow job is being postponed until the really big blow job is over." He bent down and kissed her.
"Oh, but I just got you your hard data!" She pouted out her bottom lip and stood up from her kneeling position.
"Yasi is a cockblocker Bella. A major fucking cockblocker."
oo000oo
Two days of nonstop reporting about blowing winds, high pressure systems, and moisture can do a lot for a burgeoning relationship.
Bella sat inside the news van, as it shook and shuddered, as Edward and Jasper made frequent reports back to the National studio.
"This constant pressure system is building. With winds of up to 290km an hour, it means that Cyclone Yasi is the largest Northern blow that Queensland and Australia has ever experienced. It has a very well developed eye that is heading in a path that will lead to destruction for much of the state". Edward struggled to stand up as he spoke into the camera that Jasper was barely holding on to.
The winds eventually became too unsafe for outside reports, as debris began to fly. The van Bella was in shook violently.
"Okay, Newsboy, let's move our arses... Let's get back to the hotel and report from there," Jasper called out over the roar of the wind.
Bella was getting more and more freaked out. She estimated the full brunt of the storm was an hour away. Winds were getting to 270km an hour. She wanted to be in her bathroom in the hotel, sitting in the bathtub with a mattress on her head and a stiff drink in her hand. Maybe something else that was stiff in her other one?
"Okay, let's move then. You got some extra footage, didn't you Jazz?" Edward inquired of his friend.
"Yep, stock footage is in the can. They can play that while you do the voiceovers. But the mobile network is gonna go down soon, so keep the satellite link as your backup," said Jasper, as he completed the hasty packing of his equipment.
They returned to the hotel, running in as quickly as they could. The owner met them at the door.
"Get your butts into your rooms folks; we are battening down the hatches! Plenty of water up there in bottles, the Mrs has made you a couple of sandwiches. Power is out. Alcohol is readily available. Cyclone Party!" The owner, a kind man who insisted on being called "Jacko", was obviously familiar with the cyclone scenario.
The windows had been boarded up and sandbags were at the doors.
"They won't get water up here, I checked the hydrology reports. But the wind will smash a few windows and the news van will probably be a right off." Bella informed the men.
As if Mother Nature had heard her claims, there was an almighty crash as something metal disintegrated against the building.
"Off to the safety of the bathrooms boys. I'm going to start drinking in mine. Kiss your fine butts goodbye people." She bowed her head, lifting the bottle of Bundaberg Rum in salute as she opened the door to her room.
"Um Bells, I think Edward probably wants to kiss your arse goodbye in there too. I am going to go and attempt to ring my wife and have some phone sex. If you'd alluded to a blow job one more time Edward, my dick was gonna explode." Jazz blew a kiss of goodbye to his co-workers, picked up his bottle of Jack and held onto it like a dear friend.
"How does he know that we are a... Whatever we are?" Bella asked, confused.
"Jazz is psychic"
"Really?"
"No, Bella. I touched your arse and kissed you on the forehead about a million times today. He either thinks we are really friendly, fucking already, or that I am a hippie tree hugger. Let's just get into the bathroom, get the torches lit, and get hammered. But not so hammered that I can't talk on air, or rescue you properly if the building caves in."
"Aw, you would rescue me? Like pick me up and carry me to safety?"
"Yes, but only if you rescue me from my vow of celibacy."
"Your vow of celibacy?" Bella looked perplexed.
Yeah, the one I've been sworn to since I met you." Edward took her hand.
"Deal!" She smiled up at him.
They made their way to the bathroom, an interesting 1970's affair, of pink and green, that would most likely still be trendy in some shabby chic homes. The pink bathtub was stained with rust, but the room was positively serviceable as a bomb shelter. They stripped the bed and moved the mattress into the bathroom, putting the couch pillows in the tub and settling onto the mattress that was squished into the small space. Sandwiches in hand and hotel glasses filled with the amber liquid of their choice, they toasted the cyclone, as was expected in this part of the world.
"To Yasi. Move your whatever-sex-you-are arse out of the way and don't knock over too many buildings or kill anyone. Cheers." They clinked glasses.
"Now where were we?"
"Wow, Newsboy, you don't waste any time."
"It could be our last night on earth."
"Well that is just an awesome way of giving me perspective. Get your cock out then so I can try and compete with Yasi."
"Compete with Yasi?"
"Yes sweetheart. I am going to give you the best blowjob of your life and try to calm down that eye in the middle of your storm. You are going to come with so much pressure..." It was difficult for Bella to continue the dirty talk while merrily sucking on Edward's cock. Fortunately he took over.
"Mmmm. Oh, fuck, Bella... That is a high pressure area developing right there... Oh, holy fuck... Hectopascals increasing... Mmm, hecto-pascals... Oh, Bells... Fucking HEC-TO-PAS-CALS!" Edward came with a semi-cyclonic force.
"Bells that was amazing... Will you marry me?"
"Yeah, sure. I mean anyone who comes while screaming out the scientific measurement of air pressure is definitely husband material."
"Excellent." She slapped him on the chest.
"Did you just swallow? Oh my Bella, you are the woman of my dreams."
"Edward, you do know that this is a cyclone. You are supposed to conserve moisture. So I was just doing my civil duty."
"Well how about we do our civil duty together and create a warm pressure cell. One that will induce some moisture, right about...here." He placed his rather large hands in her general va-jay-jay area.
"You know I fell in love with you the night of your first weather report." Bella smiled slowly up at Edward.
"You did? What was it that I said?"
"Oh, it wasn't what you said, it was the way you moved your hands as you were indicating the pressure area movement on the blue screen behind you." She lifted up her hands and indicated the pushing motion he had made.
"Um, yep, not getting it."
"Well, you have the most amazing hands, with these long fingers." She gently stroked along the length of every finger of his hands. "Everyone comments about them. There are discussion boards on the internet with mountains of comments about your fingers and what they could do to a woman. Not to mention the hand theory"
"What hand theory?" asked Edward, coyly.
"The theory that the size of your fingers indicates cock size..."
"Really?" Edward smiled, looking at his impressive hands.
"Yep."
"Wow, that's disgusting. That my hands and penis are being objectified by women on the internet."
"Oh baby, don't be angry about it. I want to objectify both of them right now."
"And what does a woman's hand size say about her pussy?"
"I have no idea."
"Well, let's be scientific about this and do some testing." He moved towards her, pressing his body and his newly risen erection against her. His hands moved inside her underwear. She was glad she had chosen to wear a skirt that day.
"Mmmm, Edward, you do have long fingers."
"We need to get these clothes off. Purely for scientific reasons..."
"Well, if it's for science... But put them within easy reach. If the roof comes off I don't want to be running starkers out there."
As if Mother Nature had heard her, the wind began to howl in earnest, trees began cracking, and tin roofs could be heard giving up their attachments to buildings.
"Oh baby, I am going to rock your roof..." Bella said as she slid off the offending clothes, his lips never leaving her body.
"You have amazing breasts, like little high pressure systems, all curves and height."
"I do love it when you talk science, Newsboy."
He continued to mouth her breasts, kneading them softly with his elegant hands. He eventually moved his fingers down her body, making his way back to the "moisture cell" as he now called it.
"Bells, we need to have the safe sex conversation."
"Yep, we do."
"Um, I have a condom in my wallet."
"Only one?"
"Yep."
"Well, you had better make a good first impression, because there won't be any opportunities for seconds."
"Whoa, no pressure or anything."
"So much talk about pressure and so little action."
Edward found the condom in his wallet and put his little rubbery friend on.
"You do know that post cyclone Tracey, the Northern Territory's population increased by ten percent nine months later?"
"That's because people only kept one condom in their wallet. Supplies of essentials come in after cyclones, so evidently fucking isn't considered an essential."
"Well, that is a travesty. Food, water, shelter and condoms. These are what we need to survive people."
"Well, you are marrying me after this, so we might not need them after that."
"True. We'll have to arrange a ceremony for tomorrow, because I have a feeling we are gonna want to do this again..."
"Would you shut up and quit talking. Unless you are going to say Hectopascals again, because that's the only word you're allowed to say."
"Oh baby, you are the one who is going to be screaming Hectopascals." He positioned himself on her body, her legs wrapping around his waist as he entered her.
She breathed in sharply. His pointing stick was definitely the best tool in his weather presenting arsenal. Even better than those incredible fingers.
They moved in an easy rhythm, the wind a tumultuous background for the tender fucking that was going on in the tragically decorated bathroom. She put her hands around his arse, groping and pulling him into her. She definitely liked his cock.
Her breasts were wiggling as he pounded her. She could feel the hectopascals building...
"Fuck me!" Her vagina celebrated the pounding with a release of pressure that was like a Mexican wave in a tiny stadium.
Shortly after, Edward grunted in a manner that indicated that he too was rather fucked. Fucked, good and proper.
Edward leaned his head into her, kissing her tenderly.
"You didn't say Hectopascals."
"You're lucky I could verbalise at all. That was sensational. Your hands are definitely not as amazing as that weather vane you've got happening there."
"My weather vane?"
"Yeah, originally I thought it was like one of those old fashioned pointer things the old weathermen used to use. But it's more like a solid weather vane, going at it in all directions."
"And like a weather vane, it enjoys a good blowing."
"Such a pity we can't do that again."
"Yeah. But you totally lifted my roof off."
"This one is surprisingly sturdy."
He pointed to the bathroom roof. The room was in fact very sturdy. Some trickles of water through the small window frame were the only signs that the walls had been breached.
ooo00ooo
Edward eventually had to leave the room to report on the storm as the eye of the cyclone passed. He returned an hour later when the winds had picked up again and the satellite phone had failed to work.
"Guess what I got while I was away?"
"A blow job from Yasi?"
"No." He revealed a packet of twenty condoms.
"Oh baby, looks like we have enough supplies to weather this storm"
"Let's get down to weathering it then."
The End.
I write a little fanfic called "On The Air" on fanfiction.
I hope we get our beautiful and amazing state back to its former glory as soon as possible.