A/N
So Stephenie Meyer has to have a master copy somewhere of a citrus variety. I'm convinced its posted somewhere as a pseudonym on . She still pwns all that Twilight stuff though, and me.
Special durty gropage to lambcullen who unfailingly holds my hands/boobs in moments of fail and pink pens this mutha.
Thanks and leg humps to the gorgeous and ms fabulously awesomsauce that is snshyne, she also keeps the fail monsters at bay by pre-reading. unf all ovah u doll.
Also thanks to all the people who have pimped, fav'd reviewed, and tweeted about Incubus Anomaly. I am truly humbled, flattered, and perhaps a little RIP.
Song List:
Time is Running Out: Muse
If You Go Away: Emiliana Torrini
Your Lips Are Red: St Vincent
Hurricane: 30 Seconds to Mars
"Agony! That can cut like a knife." -From Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods
EPOV
Louder. The stream of conscious immortal thought rang louder and I knew he was near.
Mortals and their parties. I would rather be…
The thoughts paused and an image of fire, rolling and binding, like a dark, thick, burning crimson ribbon of flame, twisting securely around Bella and myself.
His thoughts picked up again and the fleeting lines of Edgar Allan Poe flitted through millennia's old synapses:
How daring an ambition; yet how deep…How fathomless a capacity for love
My hand flexed, the words resonating clear to where my soul should be.
Her breathing reacted to my possessive hand and she spoke to me lowly, "Edward, your grip is a little tight there, are you ok?"
My mind was consumed by Marcus' thoughts as he repeated that phrase over and over.
La tua cantante.
I loosened my grip slightly so as not to alert her to the true stirrings within me. A pivotal moment in my existence had just occurred, an opportunity granted. Was it redemption or confirmation?
"I'm fine. My apologies," I answered.
I could see him, moving through the darkness, his eyes meeting mine, dark and hungry. He looked away and saw Bella wave at him.
Edward. I know you can see it. You cannot deny this. Does she know? Does she feel it too?
"Um, Edward, this is Marcus, one of my top stage techs. Marcus, this is Edward Cullen, my date."
We shook hands, but the words unspoken between us seemed to echo loudly in the silence.
"A pleasure to meet you," I said, if only to fill the silence. I could hear Bella's heart rate accelerating.
"Likewise," he muttered.
"So, we better get going, Edward," I felt her arm link with mine as she looked at Marcus, "We'll see you at Mike's, Marcus." He nodded and automatically I started forward.
"Why don't we go out the backdoors, it'll be a shorter walk." She said quietly. It was as if she could sense my darker mood. She led me into the darker area of the backstage, the stage lights now off and the area only lit by a very dim tube of fluorescent light, covered with blue plastic.
My eyes were strong enough to see in the dark and I was aware of the way her ass moved in her skirt, her hair curling darkly down her back. Her smell burned in my nostrils, down my throat, and grabbed my balls.
I must have her and the confirmation from Marcus was indisputable. She was mine, all of her, every delicious inch was especially formed for me to feast on. She opened the door to the outside and night air rushed into the vacuum, like a darker spirit settling into a soul less vessel.
Out on the street, there were few cars and fewer people. Her heels clicked beside my footsteps, her breathing shooting misty puffs into the air. I remembered that my breath did not produce this effect, and I hoped she wouldn't care to notice.
My mind catalogued and reviewed the evening with Bella. There was a charge that ran between us, and her accelerated heartbeat had answered any questions I'd had. Even now, her small arm through mine as we walked was not enough. I wanted her against the wall in the alley we passed, bent over the bench at the bus stop, against the streetlamp.
She shivered next to me and I realized she was not even wearing a coat.
"Did you not bring a coat?" I asked quietly, trying to keep the lust from voice.
"I kinda forgot it as we left the house," she shivered into my side again and an echo of an instinct had me shrugging out of my jacket and placing it around her shoulders. Her eyes glittered in the artificial light of the nearby parking garage as she looked up at me. She blinked once and I raised my thumb to smooth over her lusciously red painted lip. Her lashes fell like wispy feathers to her cheek and I felt my cock pulse to life in my trousers.
Her arm left mine to clutch the jacket around her, I could have sworn I saw her put her nose to the collar and inhaled. The fluorescent lights were bright and buzzed in the crisp air around us. There weren't any other cars in the vicinity and our footsteps seemed louder than necessary as we walked between rows of yellow paint and numbered columns.
We neared the car, and as she turned towards it, I rushed by her to open the door. She walked forward and met me at the door. Although my hand was on the handle, I could not go through the motions of unlocking and lifting the metal. Something burst inside me, the still air coming alive as I pulled her to me.
She whimpered before my mouth captured hers, my cool hands on her cheeks before sliding into her hair. My tongue delved forward to meet hers and she hesitated before meeting mine. Her hands moved up my chest and I pressed her into the side of the car, her curves pliable and relenting. She made another tiny sound at the back of her throat, I knew she could feel me hard against her stomach.
The whole fucking time in that theater, so close without being able to devour her in some capacity had driven me to this moment. To taste her, touch her, and even this was not enough. I wanted it all, and her resistance death marched to the beat of her heart pulsing blood.
Touch me.
Taste me.
Inside.
Her blood sang for me, a choir of fallen angels begging for redemption as I palmed her breast. I could feel her nipple pebbled from cold and arousal through her clothing. The beast wanted to tear it all off, strip her naked and taste her need, her want. I pushed my cock against her and she ground back, desperately searching for more as well.
But satisfaction was a fickle bitch, even when in heat.
I kissed her throat, her head falling back, allowing me access as her body pressed into the side of the Ferrari. My name a ghostly whisper on her swollen lips, as I found her pulse and licked the surface. Her skin was a flavor that haunted me since the last time I had touched her. Her breath hitched when I slackened my control and lightly bit her neck, teasing us both.
"I want you, Bella."
Her lashes fluttered and I looked deeply into her eyes.
"Edward?"
My hands ran down her sides and she arched against me as I breathed against her mouth. Her brown eyes were huge in her face, questioning.
I inhaled, looking at her. Could I master this creature or would it turn into my own devotion?
I removed my hand from her waist and flicked the door handle. I kissed her mouth, hard and quick, the puckering wet smack as I pulled back echoing around us.
"Get in."
I pushed away from her, needing a small amount of distance and heard her take a deep shuddering breath before sliding into the car. She shut the door and the minute click of the seatbelt filled the car as I sat down next to her on my side.
I started the car, allowing it a moment to growl and warm up before pulling almost violently out of the space.
She was tense, her heart thudding in her chest. I shifted the car and she jumped when my hand brushed against her leg. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lick her lips and I nearly drove us off of the road onto the pavement.
It was like toeing the edge of a precipice, ready to jump and hoping the fall would be as enjoyable as the landing.
"Where is the party?" I asked.
She cleared her throat and licked her lips again, before answering to give me the directions. I turned the car down a street in the direction of Mike Newton's house. His mind had spoken of his utter infatuation with Bella, and I had wanted to rip his throat open as he imagined her naked and flushed.
She surprised me by leaning towards the stereo and jabbing a black lacquered nail at the on button.
"Sorry do you mind if I-" she stopped as the music came on.
Her eyes caught mine before I turned them back to the city street.
"Muse?" she asked.
I cocked an eyebrow at her, "I hope that's ok?"
"Definitely."
She leaned back in the chair and relaxed while the seductive lyrics of Time Is Running Out poured over us. My hands tightened on the wheel as Matthew Bellamy moaned from the speakers:
You will be the death of me.
"Jesus Christ, Cullen. I love going fast but do you always drive like your ass is on fire?"
I noted the speed. One hundred was barely pushing it.
"I can go faster if you like." I said to her over the music and applied more pressure to the gas, my hand squeezing the gear shift as we cruised towards one hundred and ten.
You will suck the life right out of me.
She inhaled sharply and her hands were tightly clasped in her lap. I smirked and slowly released the gas.
"Take a left up here." she indicated with her finger.
I turned and followed along the street until we arrived at the house. There were lights on and silhouettes of people from the party could be seen in the windows. It was a large house located in the suburbs, its aluminum siding and manicured lawn identical to the houses on either side of it. I parked the car and turned the transmission off. Bella unfastened her seatbelt and opened her car door.
She waited for me and I escorted her to the front of the house. She pressed the doorbell button and the door was answered by Mike.
She brought that guy. Great.
"Hey Bella! You brought your date! Great!" His smile was barely as facetious as his thoughts, "You know the drill," he moved aside so we could enter, "Keg and other booze is in the kitchen. Let me know if you need anything."
Bella smiled, "Thanks, Mike. Is Angela here yet?"
Mike looked around, "I think so. Try the living room, Yorkie has a captivated audience in there."
Bella took my hand and led me further into the house. It was decorated like a frat house with road signs and random posters littering the marked walls. Bella rounded a corner and we found ourselves in the kitchen.
"Mike keeps the red wine in a cupboard for me. Help yourself to whatever while I scavenge for it. God, it's warm in the house, isn't it?" She turned away and took off her cardigan, revealing a black ruched top which clung to her breasts. She tied the cardigan around her waist and her smell seemed stronger as it wafted over me.
She stretched up to open a cabinet and her shirt moved, revealing a glimpse of creamy skin and the artful curve of her spine. My cock reminded me that I still had not allowed an orgasm in over two weeks and that I should consider bending her over the counter, ripping the lacing of her skirt apart, pull her thong to the side and bury myself deep. I wonder if she would allow me to bite her neck, not to wound, not to drink, but to taste as I pounded into her. She would make those noises, only louder-
"Found it!"
I quickly schooled my expression as she turned around to smile at me, and pulled a bottle of wine from the top shelf. She grabbed a plastic cup from the table and had the bottle opened, obviously knowing her way around. If I hadn't seen inside Newton's mind, I would have thought she was way too intimately acquainted with this kitchen. But from the unfulfilled bend of Newton's thoughts, I knew it was nothing more than having been here before and told to help herself.
Although I knew it, it still didn't stop the very low possessive rumble in my chest at the thought of anyone else touching her.
I grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with beer from the keg. The smell nauseated my insides, the cup was more to accessorize the façade of mortality rather than enjoy fermented and liquefied hops.
"C'mon, I'll introduce you to some of people I work with."
I stood with her as she moved around the room. Her co-workers seemed to regard her as a queen bee, both in their words and thoughts. Although some of the boys, and they were that, as she had warned me, still regarded her as some sort of dominatrix sex goddess who wielded a power tool on a regular basis. One of her 'crew,' as she put it, even had her in leathers and a whip running through his mind. I smiled inwardly, wondering if Miss Swan had an inkling to the thoughts that swarmed about her.
I knew the moment Marcus arrived, the tenor of his thoughts serious and dark. Again, an image of dark crimson fire swirling and binding, a dark river twisting around Bella and I flashed through my mind as Marcus drew near. He was beside us, and Bella smiled at him, glad that he had made it. He was still dressed in his dark stage clothes, like some scruffy roadie. It was a far cry from the immaculate vampire aristocrat, in cravat and breeches that I had seen in my immortal father's study. A painting hung on the far wall of the study of him and the rest of the ruling house, a look of ennui on his flawless face.
We need to talk, Edward.
I nodded my head in acknowledgement.
Bella turned to me, "Edward, I'm gonna catch a cigarette outside. Do you want to come with me?"
Marcus piped up then, "Actually, Bella. I was wondering if I could pick his brain for a bit."
Bella's eyes flashed with surprise but she nodded and turned towards the back of the house where some of the smokers were assembled on the back porch, shivering in the cold.
We found a quieter corner in the house and Marcus wasted no time.
Edward, please tell me you've seen this. His mind replayed the fire.
I nodded. His eyes widened.
Do you know what this means? His thoughts hissed.
I shrugged, not ready to admit it to myself quite yet.
His hand flexed in frustration, as if he wanted to hit me, his mind reflected the thought.
Edward, she is yours, specifically yours. And you are hers. Do you even comprehend what you have?
I threw him a look but he shook his head at me. He showed me a memory centuries old of a beautiful woman with delicate features and dark auburn hair. Her skin was perfect as a rose petal, her eyes ruby red. I presumed this to be Marcus' mate, who had been his singer. Tragically she had been killed, and those details surrounding her demise lay locked away, his mind unable to rehash them.
"All that singer nonsense. You cannot actually expect me to believe it." My words did not match the possessive looks I kept shooting towards the sliding glass door; as I watched her blow smoke into the night air.
Do you think this is a game?
His thoughts were taking on a desperate and frantic edge which I did not appreciate.
You cannot deny this. You have chosen this life. You must bend with it or it will break you.
"You cannot know that," I hissed lowly.
I know much more than you do, Edward. The intensity between the two of you is almost overwhelming.
My eyes reluctantly left my siren and looked directly into his, "Stay out of it, Marcus."
As you wish, Edward. I will leave you with this: Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor.
Marcus left me then, and found an obligatory drink in the kitchen. Bella returned to my side, and my hand stole possessively around her waist. I seethed while Marcus attempted to mute his thoughts from me. The night wore on, the slurred words and thoughts of the living flesh around me soon became almost too much to bare. It was getting harder and harder to not rip the face off of Newton, every instinct inside of me was ready tear his throat open and waste his blood all over the tacky mismatched furniture.
Into her soft ear, I whispered, "Bella, let's get out of here."
She nodded and sighed softly, her eyes slightly hooded from drink. She lit a cigarette on our way outside and I kept her from falling on her face twice. I poured her into the Ferrari and turned the obsidian hood towards our street.
She teetered up the driveway, my hand steady at her waist. She gasped and her face filled with horror.
"Edward! Edward I left my purse at Mike's. It's on the couch!"
I looked at her, "Ok."
Her face took on a horrified expression, "My keys, Edward. I'm locked out!"
"Do you want to go back?"
She bit her lip, "What time is it?"
I glanced at my watch, "After two."
"Oh no. It's way too late. I couldn't go back now. What am I going to do?" She sat on her stoop awkwardly, the pencil skirt too tight to allow much freedom.
The monster inside laid his ears back in triumph. "Would you like to come back to mine?"
"Oh, Edward. I couldn't. You're way too nice and I don't sleep. I would end up making too much noise and keeping you awake." Her brown eyes were huge in her face. She looked like a lost frightened child. It was unfortunate that her angel of mercy was a demon in sheep's clothing.
"I don't really sleep, either. I end up playing the piano or reading. I'm sure we can think of something to do."
The internal monster grinned and rubbed his hands together in sordid delight.
I looked at her pointedly and watched as she blushed and looked away.
"Bella, I am not going to leave you in the cold. You will be spending the rest of the night with me. Come, give me your hand."
I held out my hand, and she studied my fingers in front of her face. Shyly, she placed her fingers in my palm. I helped her to stand, careful not to crush her bones in my delight at her acquiescence.
Quietly, we walked back over to my side of the street and I led her to the front door. I unlocked the door and depressed the brass handle. The door creaked ominously as it opened to reveal a gaping maw of darkness.
"After you," I entreated her. She glanced nervously and then stepped in, her shoes clicking loudly in the still and silent foyer. I shut the door behind us and the moment where we stood in the darkness was much like the charged evening spent in the darkened theater. An almost measurable amount of electricity, hummed, sparked, and snapped between us. It was like a pleasurable whiplash, the burn in my throat for her almost painfully arousing now.
I could hear her breath, her heart. The flick of her eyelashes on her cheek when she blinked, trying to adjust her eyes. She shifted nervously, a blinded and ensnared rabbit. My movements were a whisper behind her, my hands settling on her hips. My lips brushed against her neck, finding her overdriven pulse.
I bit her earlobe before my lips caressed her ear.
"Bella…"
She leaned back against me, and my cock pressed against her backside, through my trousers.
I reached behind me and flicked the light on, blinding her again and I stepped away from her.
"Come, I'll give you the tour."
I took her hand and she walked woodenly at my side. The dark wood floors continued through the open space as I showed her the rest of the house. I had never really been one for decoration, most of the rooms were the same. Dark woods and creamy walls, minimal clutter. In the living room there was a stone fireplace, the large pieces of slate climbing the wall to the ceiling. In front of the fireplace was an extra large sheepskin rug. The smell of which, I found both endlessly fascinating and oddly comforting.
Two black sofas faced each other, separated by a dark glass coffee table.
I took her across the wide hall into the piano room. Wide windows were hidden behind tall black curtains. As the room was on the corner of the house, the two walls that faced onto the back wooded area were mostly windows. When the curtains were pulled back, the room was airy and light. However, with the dark curtains keeping the light from permeating through, it was oppressive and heavy.
The piano itself was a glossy grand, and it sat like a sleeping dragon with the lethal edge of its teeth on display. Bella stepped closer to it, the small light from the foyer filtering through to the room, making her frame a silhouette. She looked back, and her brown eyes found mine in the near darkness.
"May I?" she asked, and indicated towards the piano.
I nodded and she ran her fingers along the edge before sitting down on the leather piano bench. Her finger depressed the middle C and the note rang clear and safe in the still air. I moved towards her then, and she shifted to allow me to sit beside her on the bench.
"May I?" I looked at her, indicating the keys.
She was breathing through her mouth and her heartbeat skipped as she nodded.
My fingers caressed over notes and she sat still beside me, her eyes closed. The darkness enveloped around us, the notes unsatisfied and seductive. They begged, they pleaded, they plucked, crying silently for a pleasing and satisfactory balance of sweeter and less sharper tones. She was closer now, our legs touching, her body pressed to my side and her scent all around me as I stroked.
I stopped playing abruptly, the events of this evening finally culminating to this moment.
Her breathing made for a rhythmic metronome, weaving in and out of her pumping heart.
Without looking at her, my voice broke through the thick air, "Tell me you feel this too."
"Yes."
"Bella, I'm giving you the opportunity to say no. Get up now, walk into the living room, walk away from me. If you do not, I'm going to take it as supplication and affirmation that we will consume whatever the fuck this is between us."
She continued to sit beside me and her small hand placed over mine on the piano keys.
I swallowed the treacherous venom that filled my mouth, "Very well."
I stood up from the bench so fast that it startled her, but I did not give a damn anymore.
Her gasp was a deeper exhale as I lifted her in my arms and carried her through to the living room. I set her down on the rug, the heels of her shoes disappearing in the deep wool.
I flicked a small switch at the side of the fireplace and the gas fire flickered and roared on, filling the room with shadowy demons. The flames licked the stone and I stood to look at her, a dark angel her back towards the inferno, her arms crossed in front of her. I knelt at her side, my hands running over her, listening to her body react.
Slowly, achingly slowly, I unlaced her skirt, the dark ribbon hissing through each hole. I watched as it whispered down her smooth legs. I closed my eyes, her perfection burned into my brain, her scent sizzling down my throat. I raised my hand and dipped her lacy shorts low on one side, over her hip, revealing creamy skin. My fingers traced small bruises and I realized the mar on her beauty was of my own making. I kneeled, kissing each fingerprint, darkly satisfied that my possessive touch had marked the occasion.
Her breathing hitched at the touch of my lips and my hands cupped her backside as her hands ran through my hair. I kissed towards her thighs, tasting her delectable skin. Her hands were fists in my hair, as my nose ran over her sex, and I planted a small kiss there, over the lace. Her heart stuttered for both of us as I ran my fingers over the delicate lingerie before swiftly pulling it down, exposing her to me.
She whimpered, and for a moment her hands looked as though they might try to hide her from me. I stood up swiftly, her eyes wide as they looked into mine. I shrugged off my jacket and threw it on the couch behind me.
"Take off your sweater and top, Bella."
Her fingers fumbled and she pealed the garments off, dropping them at her feet. She stepped out of her skirt and lacy underwear, moving them aside with her foot. Finally, she stood in only her shoes and bra. Her eyes watched while my fingers unbuttoned my shirt, revealing flesh and chest and immortal perfection to her. I pulled the shirt over my shoulders, pulling it from my trousers and tossing it on top of my jacket. Her hungry eyes traced over muscle and tone and she licked her lips, her pink tongue making my cock leap.
"You can touch me, Bella."
Her eyes looked to mine, they were vulnerable and the ghost of something passed over them. How I wished her thoughts were opened to me in this moment, to know exactly what that was.
Her nakedness was temporarily forgotten and her fingers shook as she reached out to trace the shape of my abdominal muscles. Her hand moved lower. Her fingers running over the V of muscle that disappeared into my pants. Her fingers drew over the line of hair that ran from my navel before trailing down below my waistline as well. I watched, mesmerized as her touch nearly brought me to my knees.
Her fingers moved again, over my narrow hips and caressed the skin underneath the waistband of my trousers. Her brows furrowed as her fingers attempted to move lower, her eyes concentrating on her hands, on what she was touching. My cock strained against the fabric, begging for release.
My hands were at her back, unhooking her black lacy bra, the cups pushing her breasts proudly at me. The lingerie loosened, the straps falling over her shoulders. She snatched her hands up, holding the bra to her skin. Her eyes would not meet mine and again I wished for access to her guarded secrets.
"Bella?"
I waited for her to look at me.
"Don't hide from me."
I turned the full power of my dark eyes upon her and she stood for a moment, like a deer caught in the headlights. Her hands obeyed, however, slowly falling to her sides. I pushed a lock of her raven hair back over her shoulder and the black bra whispered down her arms where she let it fall to her feet. Her eyes looked to the side, her chin turned towards the corner of the room and she trembled there, naked as Eve, awaiting judgement.
My hands touched her soft skin, watching goose bumps form from my cool touch. Her nipples budded in the muted firelight and I ran my thumb over one lightly. She flinched, biting her lip as if she were in pain.
"Perfection." I whispered and had mercy on her, pulling her close, my lips unable to resist the allure of her graceful neck. My arms were around her back, my fingers splayed over her warm skin and we both hissed as her breasts pressed intimately against my chest. I knew she could feel my cock pressed against her belly, and I kissed from her neck to her jaw before my lips brushed over hers.
"I know you can feel that, Bella."
She started to pretend ignorance, I could see it in her eyes and I pressed closer, pushing against her, pulling her to me so there was no denying my intentions.
"Say it, Bella. I want to hear you say you can feel that."
"I feel it," she moaned.
One of my hands reached between us and I tested her pussy with one of my fingers, finding her almost ready but wet all the same.
"I want you, Bella. I can feel you want me too, don't you?" My lips were kissing her, my tongue possessing her mouth, taking from her.
"Bella, I want to hear you say it."
"I want you, Edward."
I stole her breath, sealing her lips with mine. Her hands clutched my arms, hanging on, her fingers digging into infallible skin. She was soft, wet, and incredibly warm in my arms and I crushed her to me. I wanted her, maybe more than her mortal mind could comprehend.
I wanted to kill her, to taste her last gush of life as it flowed over my lips.
I wanted to fuck her senseless until the flick of my fingers over her made her flinch with sensitivity.
But there was something trying to surface through the darker recesses the more time I spent around her. Something that told me to gentle my hold, or I would break her. Something that said to go softly on her lips, or I would bruise them. Something that bade me to go slowly with her, savour the wine, rather than gulp it greedily.
I released her mouth from mine to look into her eyes, they were dark and hooded with need, and I licked her bruised lower lip with my tongue.
Her breathing was short, her eyes waiting, wary but her body thrived underneath my hands. I bent, my hands running over her and picked her up behind her knees and back, cradling her before kneeling down. Firelight created tiny flashes of light in her glossy hair as I lay her down on the soft rug. I took her shoes off and tossed them near the couch.
I nudged her legs apart and lay between them and she moaned as my cock, still encumbered by fabric nudged at her slick sex.
My fingers parted her, stroked her, teased her until she writhed on the carpet.
I watched her skin flush, her nipples puckered and wanting in the firelight. The visual she provided made me pause: a gypsy pagan sacrifice laid out on the white sheepskin, waiting for the beast to devour her.
Devour her, indeed.
I leaned over her, massaging her breast in one hand, moulding the skin in my palm. I bent my head to the other, capturing the dusky rosebud in my mouth. Her hands were in my hair as her thighs clamped around my hips rising, desperately seeking more friction. Her moans were pleading and desperate and my hand reached between us to stroke her once again, bringing her closer again.
When her back arched from the white wisps of wool, her neck exposed as she moved her hips against me, grinding for more friction I knew she was ready. The need to feel her from the inside, a fruit that I had forbidden myself for so long finally in my hand.
My hand flicked over the front of my trousers, the zipper sliding down easily. I shifted my hips, dragging the black fabric down. Her legs parted, her knees bending as she used her feet to push them the rest of the way down my legs. She was leaning up on her elbows now, watching me. Her eyes widened, licking over my cock and she watched as my fingers wrapped around it. She bit her lip, and her hips seemed to move of their own volition urging me closer. I crawled back up her body and lowered myself between her legs.
My cock nudged at her wet opening, my mind racing like a million lights in fast forward on the highway. This moment, seemed especially tailored and made for me, for her, as I felt the tip of my cock enter her. She was tight and wet but gripped me like a glove.
So it was, of course, to my rage filled dismay when my brother suddenly threw the unlocked front door open wide.
"Fucking the neighbor lady. Nice."
A/N
Just. The. Tip.
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