Author's Note: Here we are again! I've actually had this in the works since about two chapters back, but i couldn't get it to wrap up the way I wanted it to. It still isn't completely to my liking, but I'm working on some side projects and didn't want to keep you all waiting too long. So, here you are: Poker night with the boys! There are a lot of 'fucks' in this chapter. Surprisingly, I erased a lot. And I erased a few hundred words and the chapter is still at 3.4K! I'm nothing if not wordy. Meet me at the bottom for some shameless begging!
DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight and Justin Bieber sucks ass. No copyright infringement intended.
JPOV
"Ante up, bitches!" I drawl as I place three cards across my poker table. Every other Friday night my homies and I meet up for beers and shit talk. We call it Poker Night for the benefit of our wives, but tonight is one of the rare nights where we're actually partaking in the namesake.
"Okay Jazzy. I'll throw in a Truth and my Kardashian sisters' edition of Playboy."
I stifle a groan. Fucking Emmett; he always knows my weak spot. What I wouldn't give to pound into the salacious roundness that is Kim Kardashian's asshole. We never play poker the proper way, with money and chips and all those other things our wives would have our balls for if we lost. No, we essentially play truth or dare – but a totally manly and awesome version of truth or dare. One with the stakes of awesome man dares and playboys with tits and other various manly things…like tits…
Fucking right, okay! We play for tits…and pussy. Yeah, can't forget the pussy. We are men after all…
Being the dealer of this round, I have to wait for the full rotation before adding my bounty to the pot. That means that if Kardashians are already in, there is nowhere for this pot to go but up. I keep my fingers crossed and pray for a good Turn card.
"Uh… I think I'll just fold." Carlisle chuckles as he places his cards face-down on the table in front of him. His eyebrows rise as he takes a pull of his beer and continues. "You boys are a bit too rich for me. I've already lost my favorite copy of Debbie Does Dallas to Edward. A man my age can only take so much."
Carlisle is older than the rest of us. Mid-thirties, I think. He was the sad sack doctor that got the pleasure of treating me and my boys two weeks after a drunken night during spring break involving water balloons, tequila shots, gerbils, and Emmett. I don't remember much of the night, but I woke up surrounded by two girls with fake tits, a goat, and Emmett. Fucking Emmett; for as long as I'd known him, I should have had learned my lesson. Let's just say we were all burned in our nether regions and never fucking went back to Mexico.
"It's alright, old geezer," I tease, moving the game along. "What about you Eddie-boy? You in?"
"Fuck, yes! You know I'm in," my friend Edward fucking chimes smugly because he's a fucking smug prick. Don't get me wrong, I love the fucker. It's just that he is the moodiest little bitch sometimes, I can hardly stand it. Seriously! He really thinks he is the hottest shit to ever grace the goddamned planet. And I'm not jealous or anything, I mean, I get it. He's got "fuck-me hair" and "fuck-me eyes" and "fuck-me crooked smile," but seriously, fuck me! The guy is one of the biggest pussies ever. His wife Bella, Alice's best friend, totally owns his balls. Me and the rest of the guys give him constant shit for the little stunts she's always pulling over on him.
"Fuck off, Cullen. Just ante up," I retort because I'm in no mood for him trying to build up whatever his lame ass is bringing to the pot. I'm in business mode.
Kardashians are in there. Enough said.
"Alright, alright. Calm the fuck down, Jazzy." Edward seems unfazed by my attitude, as usual. He takes a deep swallow of his beer before letting out a truly commercial worthy refreshed sigh. His eyes dart to all of our faces before looking at his cards again. Arrogant fucker.
"Come on, Eduardo! Carlisle's getting older over here!" Emmett huffs in obvious irritation.
Yeah, I'm glad I'm not the only one.
Carlisle just chuckles it up as he always does. He may be ten years our senior, but he never seems to get tired of us. He says our shenanigans are "constant entertainment."
Edward just gives Emmett his signature girly stink-eye which really only looks like a cross between a scowl and a pout. He looks even more like a pussy. I really don't even know why we've hung out with him all these years; he's such a moody little bitch.
He finally says, "I'll throw in Truth and a copy of Throbbin' Hood: Prince of Beaves," and the fucker has the nerve to look excited about it!
"Oh, come the fuck on, Cullen!" Emmett bellows as I groan and Carlisle stifles another fucking chuckle, almost choking on his beer. "No one wants to watch your PG-13, soft core bullshit!" he continues.
I agree and Edward looks at us like we're insane.
"What? It's got a pretty accurate story line," he defends. And because we're gaping at him like he's a total fucking moron – because he is – he adds under his breath, "and the acting's pretty good, too," like it fucking matters.
Emmett looks completely gob smacked, but I just shake my head and avert my eyes. No one watches porn for an "accurate story line" or "good acting."
…sometimes, I really wonder about that boy…
But this isn't time for games. Whether Edward's bitch-porn is in the pot or not, the Kardashians are calling my name and I will not be satisfied until I'm whacking it to all their beautiful backsides. I don't want to sweeten the pot too much so I place a stupid bet.
"Okay, I'm going with a Truth and my copy of Glad-He-Ate-Her." I hold back the fact that it's got four extra hours of Bone-us features; I don't want Emmett to get his girls back.
They will be mine.
No one raises the stakes for the Turn and Carlisle grabs us another round of beers as I place the River card down on the table. The last card is a king and I'm feeling like one knowing that I've got two more in my hand. There's no way Emmett or Edward is going to beat out triple kings, especially since there's already an ace on the table. I can practically taste caramel-skinned, plump-assed victory.
"An ace and a king on the table?" Emmett asks in disbelief. "I fucking fold dude," he continues, grudgingly tossing his cards face down and finishing his beer in one tip. He grumbles some more, but I tune him out. Pussy Edward is all I have left and the Kardashians are mine.
I let my poker face fall and break out into my victory dance. I'm a country-ass white boy so I'm sure I look like an idiot, but everyone can kiss my ass because I'm the motherfuckin' winner in this shit and no body wins in my house but me! Hell's yea mother fuckers!
Edward's arrogant tone instantly deflates my bubble of win.
"Sit the fuck down Jazzy! I do believe I want to raise you."
Carlisle's still chuckling it the fuck up and I can see Emmett grumbling something in his drink. I'm not totally sure what he says, but it sounds suspiciously like, "…fuckin' dead man…" If he's talking about Edward, he's fucking right.
"What the hell you want, Edward?" I question irately. I just want to get my girls and kick these assholes out of my house so I can jack it before Alice gets home. I don't even care that these fuckers owe me a Truth.
"I'll raise you something special if you can sweeten the pot a little bit," Edward smiles slyly.
I know he's up to something – I can read that fucker like a book – but there're two must-know things about us Whitlock's:
Firstly, we're a bettin' people.
Secondly…We. Do. Not. Lose! Ever!
And I most certainly am not going to back down and lose to pussy-boy Edward!
"Tell me what's so special and I'll think about it?" I retort because there's no way I want his special copy of House of 1000 Horsecocks. He says its Bella's….
Right...like I believe that shit for a second.
Edward smiles that smug fucking smile and it makes me think that he's had something good up his fucking sleeve all goddamn night and he was just drawing this shit out to throw it in my face. Emmett and Carlisle look like they're thinking the same fucking thing because they both get quite and lean forward.
Edward clears his throat and looks around as if there's going to be a fucking drumroll. Phst, please. He's such a fucking drama queen. I swear I have no clue why we hang out with the fucker. He's like the biggest douche bag I know and I know for sure that he's danced at a gay club before. I swear I've seen a leopard print thong and some pictures in his dresser when I was looking for swim trunks last summer. Either that or Bella's into some kinky shit. She doesn't seem the type. But then again, what do I know? Alice looks like a sweet, innocent, vestal virgin-type nun when she's actually a shopaholic spawn of satanic manipulation in disguise. Who am I to judge?
My rambling thoughts are cut short when Edward leaves the table and heads to the corner of the room where he stashed his messenger bag…
See?
Douche bag.
But he quickly returns with something behind his back. I'm seriously tired of all his dramatics and sigh deeply before taking a long pull of my beer. I end up draining it as he sits down, still without saying a word. Emmett even gets up and gets us another round of beer before Edward even attempts to speak.
I'm like, two second away from just punching him in the face and telling him to fuck off – so that I can continue my awesome victory dance – when he finally decides the suspension is too much. He clears his throat pointedly and stares me straight in the eyes while placing something on the table. My breathing catches. My eyes glaze over before they roll into the back of my skull and I swear to God I'm feeling faint.
It can't be.
But of course it is. I just haven't the slightest clue what fuckward Edward is doing with it.
"Is that," I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, but somehow my voice still comes out a little breathy when I continue, "…is that Kim?"
I can't take my eyes off of the small stack of photos Edward careless tosses on the table. My hand shakes as I reach out to try to touch one to make sure they're real, but at the same time I'm terrified I'll ruin them somehow so my hand is suspended half way across the table, mid-air.
Emmett's and Carlisle's jaws are just as slacked as mine and I think I hear Carlisle berating himself for folding his hand so soon. Even Emmett seems to be making a strange high-pitched wheezing and I know he's just as pissed.
Edward – for all the build up of disclosing these gems of titillation – looks the epitome of cool and bored. He even crosses his arms over his chest after taking a long swig of his beer, looking off to the side as if the heavens hadn't just descended upon my poker table.
"Yea," He replies coolly before taking another drink and continuing. "Bella's friend Jake owns that gay bar downtown and one of his regular customers is some hot-shot photographer. He, um, I–," Edward seems to be sputtering for an explanation, but I can't think too much into it because at this distance from the pictures, I'm pretty sure Kim Kardashian is in a bikini. And is she…blonde?
"I was, uh, helping Jake, um…, with some maintenance at his club and, yea…, the guy saw me there a few times and knew I wasn't gay, or whatever, and since Jake and Bella made me danc– dapple in a little bartending… yea, bartending, he, um…, gave me them. Anyway…" Edward is making no sense at all, but fuck him. Kim's in the room.
Actually, I take that back. I think I love him. I think he's my new best friend and maybe I've been too hard on this boy all along.
Edward Masen is my new hero.
I think I feel a tear slip down my cheek as I gaze lovingly at pictures of my girl and contemplate if what I feel inside is the equivalent to world peace. If this is world peace, I can see why all those made-up whores want it so damn bad. It feels so right.
"So, what are you throwing in?" Edward asks me, but I don't even hear him and I don't move until I see Edward's hand make to pull the pictures away. I instantly see red.
"What the fuck, man? Give her back!"
"Dude," Edward starts cautiously, as if he's backing away from a feral panther. He better be afraid; I'm pretty sure I'm growling. "Sweeten the deal, show your hand, and maybe Kim will be all yours."
"'Maybe?' 'Maybe' my ass! My hand is the shit, there's no way your going to be beat it," I state confidently, not even making eye contact with him. I'm too busy scanning the other pictures peeking through the stack. Kim on a treadmill in a formal dress and heels, I hum to myself. Wait, is that that Bieber kid?
"Is that Bieber?" I exclaim lividly. That fucking kid is like eight years old and he's in a photo shoot with my woman!
Everyone seems surprised at my outburst and they all gasp like pussies. I'm too riled up to listen and I frantically launch myself across the table and start gently figuring through the photos. Yes, it sure as shit IS that Bieber kid! And there're pictures of them on a beach too! Fucker!
"Now, calm down there, Jazzy. It's just Ki…" Emmett starts to say, but Carlisle silences him with a look. He better shut the hell up. If he was going to say 'It's just Kim' I would have chopped his balls off for blasphemy.
Everything around me seems to fade away and I'm pretty sure My-New-Hero-ward is trying to reengage me in the game, but I don't have time for any of it. The fuck-awesomeness that is Kim Kardashian is slowly taking over my brain and I'm about four point two seconds from whipping my dick out and stroking it to her beautiful face. Present company be damned. Edward would probably enjoy the show.
Wait, no!
I like him now. He has blessed my home with exclusive photos of Kim, and for that, I must show him my appreciation. I'm getting a little misty eyed, but I try to hold the tears back a bit.
I look up at Edward and whisper a reverant, "Thank You," before focusing my attention back on my goddess. If I just hover my thumb…just a little bit to the top left…yea, just like that. Now that Bieber child is completely covered and me and Kim can have a moment alone.
"Dude," I heard a cloudy, half non-existent version of Emmett voice from my personal heaven – me still sprawled out on top of my poker table with the pictures secured in my clutches. "I think he's lost it," he continues.
Well fuck him! Fuck all of them! These fuckers are encroaching on my wanking time and they can all go fuck themselves. Except Edward. He is a lovely young fellow and is welcome back at any time.
There's the briefest of scuffles as what I assume is Awesome-ward trying to get the other two buffoons away from me so that Kim and I can finally get to know each other better. I sigh dreamily and clamber down from the poker table and turn towards my bathroom with a smile on my face and a fantasy in my head. Someone calls my name and I ignore it a few times as I already start stroking my manhood through my jeans. Kim is the sexiest of sex gods and I can't believe she dyed her hair blonde for this photo shoot! Gah! She's so incredible!
"Give them back, Ass-per!" snaps me back to reality. I look over my shoulder to see that Emmett has My-Super-Awesome-Brand-New-Best-Friend-ward in a headlock. This can't be right. He looks like he's trying to attack me, but the lame-o, formally known as my best friend Emmett, is holding him back. Carlisle is chuckling from the poker table.
What the fuck's so funny?
All hell seems to break loose in seconds as suddenly our wives come bursting through the door, obviously laughing and giggling about something from their night out on the town. Alice's clutches are full of shopping bags, but I can't find it in me to care. Kim brings out the angel in me.
The wives take in the scene before them: Emmett with Totally-Cool-and-Not-At-All-A-Whiny-Little-Bitch-Because-He's-Fucking-Legend-For-This-Shit-ward in a headlock, Carlisle chuckling, leaning against a poker table full of porn, and me, in route to the bathroom with one hand on my dick and the other clutching Kim like she's the Pope's blessing.
This can't be good.
Immediately, Emmett's wife Rosalie smacks him in the back of the head. I stifle a laugh. He needs to learn how to control his woman. Bella, Edward's wife, walks over in a near panic and is coddling him like he was actually going to die at the hands of Emmett. If he wasn't my super, awesome new best friend, I'd totally call him a pussy.
Alice just looks at me.
This can't be good.
"Whatcha got there, Jasper?" she asks me all sweet and sickly like. Edward interrupts me before I can even open my mouth.
"We were playing poker for porn and he's trying to steal my Kim pictures!"
I knew he was a little bitch! That's fucking it! New friendship terminated! And what was with all this "stealing" bullshit!
"Kim is mine fucker! Three kings, Ace high. Check the cards, pansy ass." I'm livid, but one look at Kim reminds me to keep my cool. Soon, my love.
Edward looks defeated and gets all whiny with his wife. Fucker has 'til the count of three to get out of my house. I seriously don't know why I even talk to him. Carlisle and his wife Esme are just giggling it up like little school girls. Maybe the good doctor is on some drugs. I need to keep an eye on him…
I look over at Alice. She's expressionless. Well maybe she has an expression, but I just want everyone to get the fuck out so I can get down to business; I have a date with some lotion and Rush. Yea, I like to beat off to the awesomeness that is classic rock.
Alice gives me a knowing smirk and addresses the group. "Alright guys, I'm pretty sure we've had enough – ahem – excitement for one night." Esme and Rosalie look away at this and Bella blushes the color of a tomato. Something went on while they were out. I can sense that shit. I narrow my eyes at Alice's back as she shoos everyone out.
What's she playing at?
"What you playing at?" I'm suspicious as fuck. Bitch isn't getting on over on me.
She gets the doe eyes and the pout. Fuck! "It's nothing, Jazzy. Promise," she says in that voice that gets her whatever she wants. Shit! Fuck that! I'm fucking pinching her!
"Owe! Why, baby?" She asks rubbing at her arm while actually looking kind of sad. Shit! She totally just did me a favor and I'm acting like an ass. I guess I should make it up to her…
But I'm in a hurry. Kim needs attention too.
I give her a quick peck on the cheek as a silent 'Thank you' for getting everyone out of the house and make my way to the bathroom. As an afterthought, before closing the bathroom door, I tell her I love her because I do.
…And I know that maybe it'll get me some ass later if I can get it up after all the dick spanking I'm about to do.
Alice's night out with the girls is the furthest thing from my mind as I spank myself into oblivion with my brand new Kim pictures, my thumb hovering over the top left corner.
A/N: Are y'all tired? I know I am. This was too many words for such a silly little story. I hope you enjoyed it though. I am one of those people that laughs at their own jokes and I was cracking myself up. Mostly because I hate Bieber. It's totally not his fault though; he's just so young and so famous and everyone loves him. Well, he gets no love from me! If I could, I'd pinch him. Oh, and just so you know, I have no preference for Kim Kardashian either, she was just a placeholder. Insert whatever faceless, generic, "getting famous from a sex tape" person you want! =)
Now, on to shameless begging! PLEASE LEAVE ME A REVIEW! *pout* That's all I got, really. Maybe a threat? Leave me a review or I'll pinch you! Nah, leave all loves and flames! Until next time...
~Tay
P.s - I totally started a blog. It's fail right now, but I'm working on it. Check it out, ya know, if you want.
www(dot)forthereluctantreader(dot)blogspot(dot)com