Oh, Shabs... You and your Emmett loving ways! mwah!

Well, well, well... look what we have. A new installment, a new author. It's Mike Newton's turn and I wonder who has the obsession with Newton and would choose to write his story? Not sure why, but VGJM loves to torture the poor guy.

Don't forget, the auction boards for The Fandom Give Back. Everything is quickly getting grabbed up, so be sure to check it out before all the good stuff is gone. EVERYTHING goes to Alex's Lemonade Stand, to help with cancer research. So Donate, or support if you can't donate!

Go to www(dot)thefandomgivesback(dot)com and click on the link to the auction boards!

Stephenie Meyer may have given us these characters, but I'm pretty sure that she never would have made them do the things that we have!!

Give it up for vjgm...& Newton.


Prepared and Premature

Life was so much more difficult when you were surrounded my morons. The entire day had been hell on Earth. It had been so bad in fact, that I was willing to bet Carlisle paid the idiots and Volterra Hugs and Handjobs extra to have them make us as miserable as possible. We hiked for hours, talked about everything from our feeling to our dicks. Nothing like eight hours of 'teambuilding' which really should have been called pussybuilding for all the whining that went on in that time.

I didn't mind the outdoors like the rest of the lightweights I was surrounded by, I knew nature was a thing a beauty - something to be respected and revered. At a very young age, I learned, a man who could survive in the wilderness could survive anywhere- even someplace as screwed up as Cullen Erections and Demolition.

If I was in different company, the day would have been a valuable lesson in self discovery. Instead, I spent hours listening to Edward complain about everything and anything, but mostly about getting mud on his jeans. If he bitched about it one more time, I was going to hit him in the head with a rock and drown him in the lake. I mean, what kind of asshole wears True Religion jeans to a campground? Edward, the pretty-boy priss, that's who. Did he really need leather pockets and studs on his jeans to survive a night in the woods?

Then there was his cousin Emmett, born with a silver spoon in his mouth and his head up his ass. He kept asking when they were going to throw a couple of steaks on the fire and make him some 'grub.' His joke was short lived when I tried to kick Tyler's ass for breaking wind in my face on the climbing wall and we lost our red meat allowance for the rest of the day. Emmett thought they were joking, but the look on his face when he was handed a plate of spinach salad and fruit was priceless. As we approached the cabin, he was on hour three of his endless bitching and moaning.

Tyler, while good at his job, was a moron, plain and simple. Nothing was more amusing than watching his city-boy ass whining about every bug, animal and snake he saw- or thought he saw. He spent the day shooting his mouth off to Edward and Emmett and they spent the day messing with his head. All they had to do was toss a rock near him and yell 'raccoon' and Tyler was screaming and running for his life. After Tyler made some off-color crack about Rosalie's breasts, Emmett decided to get even and pointed a shaking finger over Tyler's shoulder yelling 'bear.' My man went scurrying up the nearest pine tree, blowing his safety whistle until he nearly hyperventilated. The jackass ended up covered in sap by noon and smelled like an air freshener for the rest of the day. If the guy could just learn to keep his big mouth shut…

Finally, the endless day was over and we were sent back to our cabin to get some shut eye. Sleep, breakfast then home, I kept repeating in my head. Edward was rubbing sanitizer all over his bunk while Emmett rambled on about the yoga instructor checking out his ass. I swear the guy was enjoying it way too much, in my opinion.

Not one for wasting time, I lay down in my bunk and pulled out the Cullen Erection and Demolition newsletter, trying to catch up on the latest news and future projects for the company. On the front page was a large picture of Carlisle and his wife, Esme, standing beside Bella and Edward as he accepted an award from the Chamber of Commerce for his philanthropic endeavors in the community. I laid my head down on the lumpy pillow and continued reading about the next big project that was coming down the pipe, my eyes kept wandering back to the picture of her, or more precisely, the snug fit of her dress and the way it accentuated the swell of her breasts. The woman was any man's wet dream. I knew if I had that to come home to every night, I certainly wouldn't be a grumpy bastard all the time like Cullen.

As I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion of the day overtake me, a smile crossed my lips as a most delicious and forbidden fantasy of mine began to play out in my head. Oh, what sweet dreams they would be, too. At least in the beginning…

*~*

I approached the house, the trip down the long and winding driveway only elevated my anticipation of the moment when I would finally see her again. It was wrong, and I knew it. Edward already hated my guts for an endless list of reasons, and the feeling was mutual. But this, this little indiscretion would escalate Edward's hatred of me exponentially, but it was a small price to pay for all that I stood to gain by taking this chance.

As the house came into view, my heart started racing, my palms were sweating and my mouth was as dry as the Gobi desert. The gravel on the driveway crackled under my feet as I approached the porch. I took a deep breath and made my way up the front steps.

"Knock on the door," I muttered to myself.

Before I let anyone know of my presence, I took a moment and stole a peek through the window, much like the neighborhood pervert I was becoming where she was concerned. I felt myself instantly harden when I caught a glimpse of her lithe body as she gracefully swayed to the classical music I heard coming from inside the house. When she heard the knocking, I watched her run her fingers through her hair and press the front of her skirt flat before she opened the door.

"Michael," she purred with a welcoming smile on her face.

The scent of her perfume, roses mixed with honey, flooded my senses. That smell had been driving me crazy since I first took notice of it in the Forks High library where she had been volunteering for the last month. Never did I look forward to using the Dewey decimal system more than the first and third Monday of the month, when I knew she would be working. And, if I was lucky, I'd do something to earn a sensual smile from the woman that set my body on fire like no other, Esme Cullen.

Wait, I'm in high school again? WTF? Oh screw it. She looks hot, just go with it.

"Mrs. Cullen," I said, trying to ignore the way my voice cracked as I said her name, "you look lovely today."

"Michael, Michael. Always the charmer." She laughed, her tongue darting out and wetting her lower lip seductively as she looked me up and down. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" She leaned against the door jamb and gently fingered the button of her blouse, popping it open and revealing a generous preview of her ample cleavage.

"Trust me, the pleasure is all mine," I mumbled under my breath as I stared shamelessly at the swell of her bosom, my jeans nearly exploding from the building pressure. It was impossible to look at her and not imagine what it would be like to kiss her exquisite mouth When a sly smile crossed her lips, I had to think of the most unpleasant things before I lost it right there in her doorway.

Sick puppies, my grandma in her underwear, that time I caught dad wearing grandma's underwear. Horrible visuals poured into my head, acting like a virtual bucket of ice and rendering my rock hard dick flaccid once again.

"What can I do for you, Michael?" She held the door open wider, her bottom lip begging to be nibbled on. "I'd love it if you came inside….my home that is."

With my dick following her like a heat seeking missile, I scampered into the house, hoping to get nothing more than another chance to look down her blouse. However when the door closed, I was completely unprepared for what happened next.

"This is a beautiful place you've got here Mrs. Cu—" My voice caught in my throat as I turned to find her standing right behind me, the heat coming off her body awakening my cock as I noticed one of her hands was cupping her breast. Her fire engine red painted fingernails were a stark contrast to the crisp white blouse she was wearing. When our eyes met, she slowly dropped her hand to her side and smiled.

"Thank you, Michael." The way her lips moved as she said my name mesmerized me. "Do you have something there for me?" Her eyes darted to my groin and lingered, then slowly crept toward the white paper in my hand as she gnawed on her bottom lip.

"Th- this is for a project I'm working on." I nervously waved the paper in the air, hoping to draw her eyes north because if they stayed on my package, I was afraid I'd pass out from all the blood in my body rushing to my cock.

She slowly stalked toward me like a powerful lioness on the hunt, the heels of her shoes clicking seductively on the hardwood floors. The lustful look in her eyes was undeniable and I was ready to give her anything she asked for right then and there. When she was close enough that I could feel her warm breath on my cheek, she stopped and ran her fingers lightly over the front of my khaki colored shirt.

"What are all these for?" She fingered my medals and patches deliberately, showing the agility of her hands which caused my skin to break out in goose bumps. I couldn't help but imagine her in my bed, her brown hair splayed out on my pillow as she lay beneath me. The sexy noises that were coming from her as she touched my chest brought back my raging hard on in no time flat.

My scout shirt? Pretty weak clothing choice for a dream, but she seems to like it. Somehow I knew she'd be into a man in uniform. She's a naughty one…

"S- Scout awards," I gasped as she ran her finger over the emblem on my belt buckle, her fingers not only examined the embossed picture on the clasp, but the front of my pants as well. Her fingers brushed against my manhood, and as depraved as it was, I looked up to the heavens and thanked God, Jesus and whoever else I could think of that this moment was actually happening.

"Mrs. Cullen-"

Her finger covered my lips as she whispered, "Call me, Esme."

"E- Esme…" I felt her come closer, her tongue sliding up around the shell of my ear, "w-would you like to sign my paper?"

Her sexy giggle surprised me. "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?"

Holy mother of God, she wants me. The realization nearly buckled my knees.

"Mrs. Cullen." As soon as her name crossed my lips, I felt her strong hand strike my ass and create an erotic pain that, I was shocked to find, I wanted more of.

"I said, call me Esme." Her voice was stern, authoritative and sexy as hell as she spoke. The image of her, in leather, tying me to a bed post popped into my head and made my dick painfully hard.

"Esme." Her name was uttered like a sacred incantation.

Before I knew what was happening, her fingers grabbed the front of my shirt and tugged, the buttons popped off, raining down onto the floor at my feet. Soon, her hands were everywhere on my exposed chest, her voracious lips setting my skin on fire, her nails leaving stinging trails of pleasure in their wake. When her teeth clamped down on my nipple, I nearly came from the pleasure and pain of it all.

.

As if she read my mind, she put her hands on the center of my chest and gave me a shove, causing me to stumble backward and land on the couch. The cool leather against my back was a pleasant contrast to the searing temperature of my body.

"So," Esme said as she began seductively popping the buttons of her blouse open, revealing the delicate white lace bra underneath, "are you going to be a good boy, Michael?"

My head mindlessly bobbed up and down, while my eyes remained locked on the darkened outline of her pert nipples which were completely visible through her flimsy excuse for a bra. Her thumbs hooked on the sides of her skirt and she tugged the material down over the sensual curve of her hips. I caught a glimpse of her thong and was certain something on me was going to explode, I just didn't know if it would be my head or my dick that went first.

Holy Fucking Hell.

Shit like this didn't happen to me, ever. Now I knew why Carlisle walked around with that cocky grin on his face all the time. This woman was enough to make a grown man cry…

In nothing but her underwear and black patent leather heels, she confidently strutted over to a chest of drawers in the corner and pulled out two long, white silk scarves from inside. Her eyes locked on mine, a wicked smile that promised wild times crossed her lips as she twisted the material around her wrists.

"Wh- What's that for?" I nodded my head at the cloth in her hands.

"This?" She ran the fabric over her breasts, hypnotizing me. "Scouts like to tie knots, right?" Again my head bobbed up and down, words failing to come out when I tried to speak. "Well, I thought maybe it would be fun to see how good you were at untying knots."

I sucked in a deep breath as Esme dropped to her knees in front of me, her body sliding between my legs, her hands running up along the inside of my thighs. I fisted my hands into the leather cushions to keep myself from unzipping my pants to relieve the overwhelming pressure there. When she leaned over and her breasts brushed against my groin, I couldn't stop the low growl that escaped from my chest.

"You like that?" Esme whispered as she took my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist then snugly wrapped the silk around it. She did the same to the other wrist then stood up and leaned over me, her nipple brushing against my lips as she tied my hands to the posts on either end of the couch. She gave a good tug, and once she was happy that things were tight and secure, she smiled, settling into my lap.

"Now…. where should I start?" When I didn't answer, her voice became stern again. "I asked you a question, Michael. What do you want me to do? Be specific."

No fucking way. I wonder what the world record for uninterrupted sleep was, because there is no way I'm ending this dream.

I sat there for a few seconds, still in disbelief of the whole situation. It wasn't until she wiggled her hips and the lace of her panties rubbed against my cock that I was snapped out of my trance. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Blow job!"

"A blow job? That's not very specific." She crossed her arms over her chest with a pout, her gorgeous breasts inches from my face. "I mean that doesn't tell me anything other than you want your dick in my mouth. Do you want me to tongue it, or suck on it? Do you like it fast and hard or slow and teasing? Should I pay attention to your balls or just concentrate on the head?" As I sat there, mindlessly gaping, she took mercy on me. "This time, I'll help you. But next time, if you aren't specific, you'll be punished." Her eyes darkened and she reached between the couch cushions, pulling out a white riding crop. Esme ran it down the side my chest and over my groin before slipping it back out of sight.

My heart was hammering and I was sweating as I sat on the brink of losing all control. I had a gorgeous, sexy woman nearly naked in my lap. She wanted to fuck me senseless, or at the very least give me the blow job of my life, and I was most definitely going to let her. My arms were tied to opposite ends of the couch as I sat there and waited like an offering for what would come next. I had never been so hard and on the brink of orgasm, ever.

Esme snuggled close to me, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck as she began whispering in my ear. "How about I slowly undo your belt… with my teeth? Then I can pop the button on your jeans and lower your zipper just enough so little Mikey peeks out. I'll run my tongue along the waistband first before I slowly roll it around your tip. Would you like that?"

My breathing picked up as I fought to stay in control, but my entire body began quivering as she spoke. "Y- Yes, Esme."

"Then, I can lower your zipper all the way, and slide your pants off, but leave on your underwear. Boxers or briefs, Michael?"

"B-Boxers," I muttered.

Esme seemed pleased. "I'll run my tongue over your boxers, stroking your cock through the material. You'll be able to feel the heat of my mouth and it will be so very wet. Would you like that, Michael?"

"God yes," I growled through gritted teeth. The couch made a creaking noise as I struggled against the restraints, desperate to touch her.

"And then, I want to remove your boxers and…"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before my entire body tensed and I howled in release. Esme froze and looked down between us into my lap and could feel the moisture that was seeping through my jeans. She cocked an eyebrow in surprise as her eyes met mine, then she growled.

"Did I say you could do that, yet?"

If the situation wasn't awkward enough already, the pissed off look on her face was making me hard again. "Um, no, but Esme…"

"That's Mrs. Cullen to you." She stood up and fixed her bra. "Edward always said you had a problem with authority and following directions," Esme climbed off my lap, put on her clothes and started to walk away, "but I find your ability to finish the job sucks, too."

Worst fucking dream ever.

I sat straight up in bed and whacked my head on the top bunk, the blinding pain filling my eyes with tears. "Damnit!" I growled as I pressed my hand to my forehead and felt the huge welt that was forming.

Rolling from the bottom bunk, I stood up and blinked, hoping the double vision was only temporary as I watched two images of Tyler rolling around and snoring on the top bunk. I gave my head a shake and stumbled toward the bathroom. Inside, I pulled off my ugly ass camp shirt and ran the corner of it under the cool water, then held it against the throbbing knot on my head.

As I stood there in the dim light of the dirty bathroom, I took a minute to look at myself in the mirror. My broad shoulders and chorded muscles were irresistible along with a thick layer of hair which women went wild for. Winking at my smokin' hot reflection, I knew that cougar, Esme Cullen, would probably kill to have a piece of me. I couldn't help but smile as I sauntered out of the bathroom and headed back to my bunk, humming my own personal theme song.

Macho, Macho man….

I got to be, a macho man…


Hee hee...VJGM and Newton... it's destiny really. The scout uniform and all.

GO NOW to www(dot)thefandomgivesback(dot)com!! As of today, we as a fandom, have already raised almost 15,000!! That is absolutely amazing people! ALL five of us are so proud to be a part of this fandom. Congratulations everyone.

Alrighty, I guess that means I'm next (OCDindeed). Good grief, what have these ladies roped me into!