A/N

Cosmogirl7481: So, we are totes sorry for those of you that didn't get Edward in your box.

Marvar: FanFiction cockblocked you.

Cosmogirl7481: We will post his response on the Twilighted thread. Consider our box, your box.

Marvar: And we love when you play in our box. It's cozy.

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Chapter 6

Re: Anatomical Adventures

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: French lessons

Dearest Bella,

Hi, Beautiful.

It pleases me greatly to hear that you had no intention of perpetrating the aforementioned stunt, which I have affectionately christened "nipplegate." I wanted to crawl through the computer and grasp you firmly and not let you go. Hmmm. That sounds good. I may still do that. (Not the computer part. I know that's impossible with today's limited technology.)

Thank you for offering to give me lessons. I actually have very effective study techniques of my own (I can send you an outline of my methods) - but I gather you are referring to amorous pursuits. In this area I submit to your will. You possess the confidence I lack. Maybe I need remediation? I have never uttered those words – but I am willing to do anything for you. Well, within reason. I frown upon illegal activities.

About your friend Rosalie and Emmett, I am fairly sure they did not have intercourse. He is usually free with information about his physical relationships. He has not mentioned anything about Miami except that he got a 'fuckhot' tan. (Again, his words.) I do plan to ask him about it since you are so interested.

It doesn't bother me that you use the word 'fuck,' I'm just glad that you don't use it when describing what happened between us. I know that on the surface our rendezvous would be described as a one-night-stand, but in reality, it was so much more . . . it was everything to me. I want many more nights like that. To be perfectly frank, I want ALL my nights like that. (Except you will have an orgasm this time.)

I laughed when you compared me to James Bond and Indiana Jones. I really am nothing like those suave, sophisticated characters – though I do have an Aston-Martin and my own tuxedo. Those movies are entertaining after you accept all of the technological and historical inaccuracies. The best part to me was playing "spot the anachronism" as a child. The whip was pretty cool, too.

You obviously have a very high opinion of me. Please believe that the feeling is mutual. I hope that I will live up to your expectations. (Maybe you don't remember me clearly?). Linguistic ability excites you, huh? I have a few phrases I can whisper in your ear when I get you under that tree. (I don't think we'll have much time for reading.)

I would love to show you France through my eyes. Our family usually spends a month there every summer, so I am your willing tour guide and French tutor - for any kind of French experience you want, Bella. The French activities you mentioned are quite an enticement. You don't know what it does to me to read that you have visions of us having a future. I do, too. I just want you to know that.

I am actually good at rock climbing; my father and I climb frequently – nothing too high. So your walls wouldn't be much of a problem if I needed to get up there (in case of emergency). I will gladly walk into your bedroom whenever I get the invitation.

So, speaking of bedrooms. . . you want me to tell you what I would do to you in my bed, Bella? I could tell you how I would adore and explore every inch of your glorious body until you were breathless, but I would rather show you. I think it would be more satisfying. You know how I prefer to be hands-on.

With devotion,

Edward

P.S. I expect a full transcript of your areolae's journal.

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From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Killing Me Softly

Dear Edward,

Just so we're clear, I would love nothing more than for you to grasp me tightly and never let me go. I thought I would get that out in the open right up front.

Nipplegate? I suppose I should be flattered that if you are naming something after my nipples…at least you are naming it affectionately. Would you believe that prior to my knowing you, I don't think I've ever discussed my nipples at all…with anyone? And certainly not in such great detail. It makes me wonder, Edward. Are you a breast man?

In regards to your 'lessons,' I was definitely talking about matters of the heart…and body. And you don't have to submit to my will. I was rather hoping (fantasizing, actually) that I could submit to yours. I am not that experienced in these areas either. Maybe we could learn together? As for my confidence, I want you to know that I am not usually so forward. You make me feel bold and assertive. You have from the moment you led me to the bathroom in the bar.

Remediation, Edward? Please. There is no fault that needs correcting. I think you're perfect…for me anyway. Someone recently told me that I was perfect for you. I hope you feel the same way. You would really do anything for me? Don't worry that I would ask you to break the law. (Remember, my father is a sheriff.) Interesting fact, though: Oral sex is against the law in eighteen states. Including the state where I grew up. Are you still opposed to 'breaking the law' with me? Just curious.

I would never describe what we did as fucking. You're right…it was more. I just wish we hadn't had such a difficult time in the beginning. And really, Edward. Most women don't have the big "O" every time…especially their first time with someone. In fact, I've never had one with anyone other than myself. (Is that too much information?) Lately, ALL my nights are spent with you in one way or another. If I am not writing to you…or re-reading your emails for the millionth time…I assure you that I am thinking about you. Dreaming about you even. Do you ever dream of me?

You have an Aston-Martin??? Really…who are you? How can you have a car like that and be in college? I live on Ramen noodles and drive a beater truck. So, you also have a tux? The thought of you in a tuxedo is really a spectacular image. Tell me, if you aren't a super-sexy and 'fuckhot' spy, (quoting your friend, Emmett) why do you have a tux and drive a ridiculously expensive car? Do you drink martinis? I'm not sure that I'd make a good Pussy Galore.

I do have a high opinion of you, Edward. Truly. And even though I was intoxicated on the night of our encounter…I remember every moment vividly. I have no expectations, well, I had one…and you exceeded it on the first night. Maybe we could talk about that sometime? And yes, linguistic ability is definitely sexy…be it in English, Italian or French. I think that you are a cunning linguist. Your words make me hot.

You rock climb? That's so…so masculine and rugged. Wow. I really do think you are trying to kill me. It's not fair for you to put these images in my mind when I really do have to try to make it through the day with thinking about your…qualities. I find it difficult to focus and while I may be a flighty individual, I have always been able to center myself. I couldn't even focus in yoga yesterday! And yoga is all about focus. I can't even begin to tell you what I was thinking about. (Mortification would surely ensue.) Suffice to say that it was of you, Edward. All my thoughts are of you as of late.

Your bedroom sounds wonderful when you use words like adore, explore and glorious. I can certainly think of one 'glorious' thing I would like to see again…especially since you didn't describe it to me. (Don't worry. I remember. It was glorious.) I know that you prefer to be hands-on…but just so you know…I might have to take things into my own hands in order to sustain some relief.

My question to you this time is: How do you see this progressing? By this I mean us. I like calling us 'us.' I like the way my name sounds with yours. I doodled them together today while I was in class like I was twelve years old.

Fervently (For real),

Bella

P.S.

The transcript that you wanted:

Dear Diary,

Edward is so dreamy.

He makes me pucker like a lemon and his fingers give me different texture.

I like it.

It feels good.

The idea of him makes me blush a deeper shade of pink.

And when he sucks the remnants of his scotch from me….well, maybe I should save that for another entry on another day.

I need something to fill the time while he is he not around.

Until next time,

Bella's (left) areolae.

P.P.S.

My post-script was written much to my chagrin and humiliation. But I told you that I would do it. I am a woman of my word. I hope you believe me now when I tell you…there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. My areolae are in agreement. My nipples are jealous that you didn't ask them for anything, but I told them I would pinch them later while I was thinking of you…again.


From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Anatomy

Dearest Bella,

You continue to blow my mind.

I can honestly say that I have never, ever discussed a woman's nipples or areolae for that matter, out of a medical context. That is another example of how you affect me. I have never considered female anatomy in a purely sexual way, but I guess I am a breast man. (But Bella's breasts only.) I hope that doesn't offend you.

I can't imagine a more exciting study session than some one-on-one tutoring with you. (We won't need books.) I wouldn't even be embarrassed to admit my need for extra private lessons.

I have never before contemplated breaking the law, but I must admit that scenario you mention makes me want to do illegal activities - I just hope it's not a felony. (I will Google it.) You know I mean the oral sex, right? I am not a degenerate.

I know not all women have orgasms, Bella. I am just a type A over-achiever. Perfection is always my goal. So I promise that next time I won't stop until I get it right. And maybe some extra credit wouldn't hurt. Forgive me, but I'm not that sorry that no one else has done that for you – just more motivation for me.

My car isn't a big deal. It's my dad's old car. He wanted to buy me a new one for graduation, but I'm not really an ostentatious person. (My sister got a yellow Porsche.) I really don't think that qualifies me as a spy, let alone 'fuckhot.' I rarely do any of that spy stuff except for foreign travel and limited computer hacking. (That was to find you.) As for the tuxedo, my mother makes me go to many charity events and I could never rent a tuxedo - I have long arms and legs. Not to mention the germs that must infest those things. I can't imagine what it would look like with a black light shining over it. Appalling. As for the Pussy Galore comment, well you are quite a femme fatale (without the guile) - but I could never call you 'Pussy.' That is just rude.

The things that you find hot about me are strange but gratifying. Rock climbing, foreign phrases, and old cars? Really? You are so good for my confidence. I would have never been able to have these kinds of conversations before. (ie. flirting.)

I don't have words for the journal entry. I daresay that was the most erotic literature I have ever read. I had a profound reaction. I won't be specific about the details like the location of my reaction – just suffice it to say it was noticeable. I just hope that you don't expect a response from my scrotum. I don't think it is as eloquent.

Bella, I am very happy about the way things have progressed so far. But I can say that I want more. Much more.

Do you think that's something you want, too? What I want is to have an exclusive relationship. I can't bear to think of you emailing anyone else. (Of course you can conduct business and such. I am not a control freak.)

Yours, hopefully...

Edward

P.S.

I dream about you constantly. Only you. And I may or may not act like a gentleman at all times.


From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Elated and Exclusive

My Dearest Edward,

I knew it.

I knew you were a breast man. Fortunately for you, I have been told that my 'rack is better than my shelf.' (Rosalie's words.) It's too bad that she and Emmett didn't get along. They seem to be MFEO. Have you ever seen Sleepless in Seattle? It's one of my all-time favorite movies. I just love Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. Well, except for that Joe Versus the Volcano movie. It sucked…exponentially. They also did a movie about two people who fall in love as they email. That one may have a bigger and more prominent place in my heart now.

I would definitely be on board for some one on one study-time with you. I could spend hours learning everything about you…your thoughts and your mind…your body and your soul. All of it is fascinating to me. I would be like a sponge, soaking up every ounce of information and knowledge you would give me. I am not in medical school, but I'm an excellent student. And Edward, I would let you read me like an open book.

So, you're willing to break the law with me? I must admit that I am definitely prepared to be the Bonnie to your Clyde in that endeavor. You should know…I want you to know…that I would be a first-time offender. I'm an inexperienced criminal. I hope that you're okay with that.

I don't really care what kind of car you drive, but I appreciate your spy-like qualities. Especially since it helped you reconnect with me. I would like to see you in the tuxedo, though. I don't go to any big charity events or galas. I do volunteer at a local food bank in their soup kitchen, but I don't think you could wear a tux there. You might be just a touch overdressed. Maybe you could send me a picture? I would like that…very much.

As far as the things I find hot about you are concerned, I think I might have misled you just a touch. I do find all of those things very appealing. But even more than that, I found it much hotter that you wanted me to read to you underneath a tree. It was scorching when you called me sexy. (No one ever had before you.) It's the little things about you that make you unbelievably sexy and hot. The rest of it is just icing on the most delicious cake in the world.

I am glad you enjoyed the 'journal entry'. To be honest, I was really embarrassed to write it. I'm glad to know that you have a profound reaction. I don't need you to describe it. I assure you, I will have no problems imagining it. Probably in unfortunate places like yoga or the grocery store. I had a situation the other day in Whole Foods while I was picking out a cucumber. Needless to say, it was embarrassing. Speaking of embarrassing, I don't need to see a journal entry from your scrotum. And I am sure you don't need to write it.

I am more than happy with the way things have progressed with us. Blissful and elated are actually the words that come to mind. I want more, too. I don't know about you, but I have been exclusively yours since you asked me what kind of lotion I used. I hope that you have been exclusively mine. I could never email anyone else, Edward. Ever. That is something that I only want to do with you…well, that and everything else that we've discussed.

I am yours.

Will you be mine?

Only Yours,

Bella

P.S.

Do you use G-chat?


BPOV

I close my laptop and place it on the other side of the bed. I giggle to myself because Edward would be concerned for my posture that I was writing him in bed with no support. I feel the heat in my cheeks as I blush over the things that I have said to him. I bury my face into my pillow and groan, kicking my legs on the mattress. Am I aroused? Frustrated? Embarrassed?

All.

Definitely all.

I get up, stripping my clothes off and head to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. Maybe that will relax me. I turn on the water to let it heat up and I grab some towels from the closet. I step in the shower and let the hot water rush over my body. It feels good and relaxing. I wet my hair and begin to wash it with the new shampoo I bought that smells like coconut. Edward seemed to like the fragrance of the suntan lotion, but really, who wears suntan lotion when they're not tanning? I like the fragrance. I like even more that it reminds me of him.

My mind starts to wonder and I think about Edward. I wonder what he's doing. Is he reading my email? Is he thinking of me? He was so much flirtier in his email this time. I am convinced that this emailing business was definitely the way to go. He is definitely more open and amorous than he was before. Not that I didn't really like who he was before. The truth is…he's still him. All perfectly wonderful and awkward and sexy. And fuck, if he isn't sexy.

Did I really write a journal entry from my areolae? I really hope he liked it and doesn't think it's stupid. I notice that my nipples have become erect just thinking about him. Christ! I'm wound so tight and I don't think I've ever felt like this before. I know I haven't. My hand involuntarily lifts and my fingers graze the sensitive skin.

It feels good.

Damn.

It really feels good.

What the hell? I mean, I did tell him that I would pinch them later while I was thinking of him. I know I was just trying to arouse him, but he has completely and utterly done the same thing to me with his perfect sculpted body and his altogether wonderful words. More his words than his body…but come on, his body is awesome!

He likes me.

He really likes me.

Crap. Images of Sally Field have made my nipples lose their boner. Back to Edward…mmmm…Edward. Edward wants to hold me…and never let go. Edward wants to 'adore' and 'explore' me…my body. Like he is Columbus and my body is a wonderland.

Wait!

The showerhead in here is a massager!

Fuck, yes.

Consider this tension relieved.

I turn, facing the spray of the water, reaching up and taking the showerhead in my hand. I twist the knob and find a setting with a steady, pulsing spray. I pray to god that I am able to maintain my upright position for what I'm about to do because surely she would understand my current need for release. I mean, she did create this perfect man that I can't stop thinking about, after all. I lift one leg to place on the side of the tub…you know…for better access. I suck in a deep breath and I bring the showerhead down to…well…down there.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

The water is too hot!

I fear I've burned my clit off!

I quickly turn the water to cool and soothe my tender flesh. After a moment, all seems fine. I feel we (me, my clit and of course, my thoughts of Edward) are back in business. I test the water this time, carefully. Must remember that pink skin is much more sensitive to heat than regular skin.

I feel the pulsing spray against where I need it most and…

Nirvana.

I see Edward in my mind.

And oh, god…it feels goo –

"Hey, Bella! What's up?"

"Aragh!!!!"

I am startled and I slip and lose my balance. I catch myself on the shower curtain and thankfully, don't fall and hit my head on the porcelain of the tub. I could have died trying to get off with a shower massager! All right, maybe I wouldn't have died…but it still would have been embarrassing!

Wait!

This is embarrassing!

"Rosalie Hale!" I scream. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I try to steady myself on my legs that are now wobbly…and not wobbly from what I initially wanted.

"What?" she asks in a whiny voice. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Now?" I ask her, peeking my head around the curtain. "I'm in the shower!"

"So?" she replies. "I've seen you naked before, Bella."

I turn off the water and ask her to hand me my towels. She does and I dry myself off. I wrap one towel around my head and wrap myself in the other. I pull back the curtain and step out…glaring at her.

"I think we need to have a discussion about boundaries and personal space, Rose."

"I think you need to bite me, Bella."

I can't help myself, but I laugh at her statement. She's right. Normally, I wouldn't have minded the intrusion.

"What's going on?" I ask as I begin to dry my hair with the towel.

"Nothing much," she says. "What going on with you and your internet doctor?"

"He's not a doctor yet, Rose." I say. "He's in medical school."

"Whatever," she says flippantly. "Are you still emailing hot and heavy?"

I shoot her a dirty look and then I roll my eyes.

"Yes, we are still emailing," I tell her. "And anything hot or heavy is none of your business."

I turn to walk out of the bathroom so that I can get dressed.

"Hey, Bella?" she asks as I'm heading out the door.

"Yeah?"

"Why is the showerhead hanging down in the tub?"

I stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn around and look at her. She is standing there smirking with a knowing look on her face. I feel my face flush and embarrassment consumes me, but in that humiliating moment, I know what to do…and I smile.

"Hey, Rosalie?"

"Yeah?" she says, giggling.

"What happened with you and Emmett in Miami?"

And just like that, all thoughts of my attempts at self-pleasure are forgotten and it's my turn to grin.

"Nothing happened," she replies shortly. "And I told you…Emmett is a fucking dick-bag asshole!"


EPOV

"I wrote the email."

I read the new text from my sister.

Alice.

I should have known that she would somehow meet Bella. She has an uncanny ability to find out everything whether you like it or not. I am proud that she thinks Bella is perfect for me.

I spent an hour last night telling her about what happened during spring break. Well, not everything, because it seems that Bella is quite chatty. My little sister was rather angry that she had to find out about my 'soul mate' by accident. She scolded me for withholding information. She seems to think that she and Bella will be best friends. She wanted to tell her about me being her brother as soon as possible so I gave her Bella's email address and made her promise not to stalk her. I am somewhat hopeful that she will take heed of my warning.

Alice's text makes me think about Bella again and I need to read her emails. She is driving me crazy. It's lucky I have an excellent memory and don't need to study very long because I'm only reading Bella's words.

The woman writes foreplay.

Jesus, Bella.

"Ughh," I groan and push my chair back from my desk. Just words and thoughts (albeit sexy ones) and I'm completely erect. Again. Her journal about her breasts is nipple porn, well, areolae are not technically nipples, but the reaction is the same. I get up to lie on my bed and throw my pillow over my face in frustration. I try to think of abhorrent visuals like cysts and open wounds but not even that dissipates the throbbing need for release. I rarely felt the need to participate in masturbatory efforts, but since Bella, all I think about is sex. I really didn't think it was possible before, but now experiencing it, I believe in blue balls. More of a purple really, but the spirit of the phrase was accurate. I ache. Literally. This was not poetic embellishment.

If only she were here. Would she touch me there and relieve the pressure? Oh yes, Bella. You wanted me to tell you about my penis. Here it is. No, not penis, it's my rock-hard cock. I know you like it when I talk like that. You have its attention, baby.

I reach in my running shorts and release the tent pole that's threatening a mutiny. With my other hand I move the pillow behind my head to prop myself up. . . to watch what I'm about to do? It's like a train wreck – so wrong but I can't look away.

I slide my shorts down so I'm completely unfettered. I imagine her, not me, sliding my hand across my cock. Over the head and back down the shaft. Mmm. Bella. Her warm little hands stroking me . . . her scent swirling around . . . scent . . oh the lotion. . . I pull it out of my nightstand and squirt some on my hand. The extra lubrication and coconut aroma combine to make me even harder, if possible. Long, firm strokes, wrist twisting. . . I'm starting to perspire and take shallow breaths . . . I speed up, conjuring images of my girl and what she would look like bouncing on me . . . over me . . . writhing under me. I start thrusting my hips against my hand and with an 'ughhh' and a 'fuck, Bella' I release long, hot spurts into my hand. My breathing starts to slow down and I can't believe I just did that.

I can't believe how good it was.

Or how gross the clean up was.

"Edward!" The sound of Emmett startles me and my post-orgasm high is ruined. I rise to let him in, hastily throwing the towel containing my emissions in the hamper and pulling on my shorts.

"I'm coming, Emmett." I snort at my statement. I open the door for my friend with the poor timing. Well, I guess his timing could have been worse. I cringe at the thought of being caught in flagrante dilecto.

Emmett looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. I realize I am sweaty, flushed, and only wearing a pair of running shorts. Great.

"Um, caught you at a bad time, Edward?" he asks with a laugh. "Start your workout without me?"

"Uh, yeah. I was doing some, um, forearm work." Smooth recovery. "Let me go wash up and we can go to the gym." Please don't be too observant, Emmett.

"Sure. Hey, can I print up some docs on your computer? My printer finally died." he calls out as I'm washing the results of my self-love off of me.

"Yeah," I reply as I finish up in the bathroom. I am fast, but not fast enough.

"Fuck, Edward. Little Miss Nipples wants your ass bad. Nice work, bro. I didn't know you had it in you. Or in her, should I say." He cracks up at his own stupid joke. He's seated at my desk looking at my computer. . . shit!

"Damn it!" I am mortified that Emmett has seen my emails that I stupidly didn't close and the fact I'm cursing like a sailor.

"Dude, don't get sensitive. You should be proud. That girl is begging you to have cyber-sex."

"Yeah?" I'm feeling rather pleased that Emmett believes this, despite the fact he has violated my privacy.

"For reals, Ed. Nips is totally into you. Isn't it obvious?"

"Really?" It's flattering that Emmett concludes that 'Nips' has feelings for me.

Wait, what did he call her?

"Emmett, please do not refer to my Bella as 'Nips.' That is degrading to her," I angrily retort.

"Relax. I won't call her that. Jeez, didn't loving on 'Little Eddie' in the middle of the day loosen you up?"

Emmett – he's perceptive and insightful and completely inappropriate. His brusqueness doesn't embarrass me, however.

"I am actually feeling rather relaxed," I grin.

"Holy shit, did you just smile and joke with me? That chick must be something."

"No. She's everything."

Emmett stares at me. "That was really poetic, man. I wish I could find someone who makes me feel like that."

"Are you giving up your title as campus lothario?" I question. This is a new Emmett.

"I don't want to be a man-whore anymore. I want a smart girl who loves me for me and not my looks. I thought I found her in Miami, but. . ." his voice sounds wistful as it trails off.

"You met someone in Miami?"

"Yeah. I thought maybe she was special, you know. But then she acted like an airhead and wanted what all the other bar sluts want from me, so I blew her off."

Now this development is completely unforeseen. It has to be her.

"What was her name, Emmett?"

"Rose."

*****************

A/N

Reviews get Edward in their box.

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