A/N: Okay, okay, I know. I'm captain of the failboat. The update took forever. This is all my fault. If you need someone to come after with pitchforks and a lynchmob, I'm your gal. To try and get back on your good graces, since the readers of this story are unbelievably wonderful, I'm giving you a giant chapter. Yep, that's right. It's at least twice, almost three times as long as anything you've seen here so far. Hopefully, that makes my apology that much more... apologetic.
BUT! Do not expect chapters to be this long in the future. We're hoping for faster updates from now on, and the chapters will remain their usual size.
HUGE thanks to my love, lexiecullen17 for betaing this monster, and kicking my comma-hating ass. Massive, massive thanks for Yoga for not killing me for taking forever. Really, thank you. Happy birthday, sweetie. Hope it was wonderful!
LoD girls, I fucking love you all.
Disclaimer: I don't own it… and honestly, I think SM would file a restraining order or harassment suit if she ever read this…
***PSA: Drugs are bad***
Take it away, Hackerward!
-- ~ --
I knew the day was going to be full of complete and utter shittastic wonder when the first thought I had was...
Can someone turn off the sun, please?
"I'm never fucking drinking again," I said to myself as I woke up with Linux's fur coating my tongue and cutting off my air supply. My head was pounding, and my mouth tasted like shit, but all I could focus on was the fucking hot ball of fluff currently kneading my forehead.
"Cat, please remove yourself," I begged quietly as I picked her up and placed her onto the bed next to me. Immediately, I was graced with a look that told me to "go fuck myself," and the only way I'd be out of the hole I'd dug myself into was going to involve tuna and treats.
Needy, spoiled bitch.
I knew better than to speak that shit aloud, as Linux would tear my ass apart like a brand new scratching post. Very, very slowly, I slid away from the poofed furball giving me the stink-eye, carefully sat up at the edge of the bed, and slipped on my glasses. The world spun like an acid trip scene from a bad hipster film, and it took several minutes before I finally felt decent enough to try standing. I was ecstatic when I could move, as I had to piss like a pregnant woman, yet I still clutched at the walls on my way to the bathroom to keep from falling.
It didn't work.
"Goddamnit, Emmett!" I shouted as I tripped over his massive body and grabbed my skull while writhing on the floor in pain. Why did everything always seem so much louder when you were hungover? Dropping my voice to a whisper, I kicked my asshole of a brother in the side, which as I opened my eyes again, realized was completely bare. "Why is your naked ass on the floor?"
No noise except for the loud snores came from his hulking carcass, so at least I knew he wasn't dead. But it certainly didn't give me a fucking clue as to why he was naked in my hallway. There was no time for debate though. If I didn't get to the porcelain oasis soon, I was going to piss in my...fucking Hello Kitty pajamas? When the fuck...
Last night must have been ridiculous if I was wearing goddamn Hello Kitty pajamas. If I was being honest, I didn't even know I owned Hello fucking Kitty pajamas.
Fucking Emmett.
Dragging my ass off the floor, I finally made it to the bathroom, took care of business and washed my hands. Yeah, I fucking washed my hands - I even used antimicrobial soap. That was me, Edward fucking Cullen, shattering male stereotypes, one at a time.
I walked back toward my bedroom, stepping on Emmett along the way, and he didn't even flinch. We must have consumed more alcohol than I thought if the man didn't even budge when I put my entire body weight on his back without getting a reaction. Shaking my head, I looked over at my bed and gazed at Linux with pleading eyes. I couldn't stand to be on bad terms with the only female in my life that wasn't my mother. The look on her face showed me that she wasn't as pissed as when we woke up. She had taken over my pillow during my excursion to the bathroom. I walked over and scratched behind her ears, and with a loud purr and nuzzle to my hand, I knew all was well between us once again. That didn't mean that I wasn't going to spoil her with treats later. Picking her up and placing her in her favorite spot on my shoulder, I climbed the stairs to the kitchen to forage for breakfast.
The island of the kitchen was covered in various pastries and fruit, signaling that my delightful parents had company over. Company was the really nice way of putting it... I groaned, knowing exactly what that meant for me. Instead of waiting for them to find me, I grabbed the can of wet cat food from the fridge and a scone-looking thing, then made my way back downstairs.
Linux tried to crawl off my shoulder and down my chest, swiping at the can in my hand, and I tried to nudge her back in place, only to be graced with a loud mewl and a claw to the nipple.
"Ow, Lin! That fucking hurts!" She wasn't pleased. Instead of retreating back to her spot, she dug her claws into my shoulder and nipple even harder, and I yelped. Loudly.
Shuffling over to her food bowl while juggling her, her food, and my own was like watching a dude in a porno walk to a bed with his pants around his ankles - highly entertaining and a whole lot of ridiculous. I set up her breakfast quickly, and she jumped down from my hunched over back like the prized princess she claimed to be all the time.
Oh, by all means your highness, thank you for allowing me to be your royal fucking staircase...
I walked back into my bedroom with every intention to put on real clothing, but all thoughts of that came to a screeching halt when my eyes were assaulted by Emmett's naked ass resting in the chair at my computer.
"Dude! Get your sack away from my goddamn equipment!" I yelled at him angrily.
He smirked. "Did you just ask me to move my junk away from yours?"
"What?" I asked, exasperated. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Umm, we're related, Bro. And while I don't mind more than one person gettin' down with me, I'm really not okay with you offering to be the third leg in my tripod escapades."
My jaw dropped, and my head spun out of control. "Could you possibly be more disgusting right now? What the fuck are you doing on my computer, Emmett? And for the love of all that is fucking holy, put some goddamn pants on!" He made no move to get up. "Seriously, get your nether regions off my chair! And sanitize it when you're done!"
He got up, pulled on what I assumed were his pants, as I'd never set eyes on them before, - there seemed to be a theme today - then walked back to the chair and sat down. "Better?"
"Much."
"So, what's the kitchen look like? Covered in food?" I nodded. His vague question answered what we had both come to expect from our parents' profession, as they ran their "operations" from out of the house. If there was a large spread in the kitchen in the morning, we knew there would be people staying at the house for the next four days. It had been like this for years. "Did you get a look at any of them?"
I shook my head. "No, but I didn't look for them. I was eager to get back down here and change my fucking pants. Speaking of which, when the fuck did I put these on?" I asked, gesturing to the item in question.
"Dude, did you just Vanna White your dick?"
"What?!"
"You just framed your 'parts' like Vanna White. Are you asking when you got your dick or when you got the pants?" I glared at him, walked to my dresser and pulled out clothes then headed to the bathroom to change. "Because you still don't have your dick, but you dug the pants out of the drawer last night saying that you wanted to get in touch with your 'feminine side' and the chick in the picture."
Chick in the picture?
"What chick in the picture?"
"This one," he answered and pointed to the computer.
I walked over and glanced at the screen. Sure enough, the picture of the hottest fucking brunette with ridiculous bedroom eyes and a bangin' body was up on my screen.
Fuck.
The memories slowly started dripping into my brain, burning like acid through the walls of alcohol induced idiocy. I'd found Isabella's picture. She was sitting in a chair, winking at the camera and sure enough, there was a Hello Kitty fucking pillow in the background. Well, at least that explained the pants.
"Jesusfuckingchrist," I muttered, and Emmett nodded.
"So, who is she?" he asked.
"That's Isabella Swan."
"The cabbage chick?"
"Apparently so."
If I was being honest with myself, I'd have to admit that I didn't give a fuck if she bathed in cabbage in the hot summer sun with a satanic cult. She was fucking gorgeous. And, me being a social retard, sent her a fucking e-mail. Now, how in the fuck was I supposed to explain that?
Pushing Emmett to the side, I quickly shut down all of the windows and powered down my gear before grumbling to myself about never drinking again. He simply sat next to me, laughing his ass off, before finally catching his breath, and his face went back to its normal shade of douchebag.
"You should go for her, Edward," he said, and I shot him a look.
"Really? And how in the fuck am I supposed to do that?"
"People meet online all the time, E. It can't hurt to try and get to know her this way first. Actually, that might be better for you. She'll fall for your hermit-ass before she realizes you are socially handicapped in person. It's perfect."
I punched him. "Just stay out of it, Em. I'm going to take a shower, then grace the masses with my presence before they come looking for me. Do they know you're here?" He shook his head. "Well, at least you're safe. I have to stay here until at least tomorrow before I can move into my place. What are you going to do all day?"
Emmett smiled widely. "Just meet up with a few friends. I'll be back later though. I can go back to the city with you to help you move the rest of your shit in... Maybe even help you unpack."
"Alright, just... don't touch my fucking computer. Do you need a ride somewhere?" I asked, hoping that I'd be able to get out of the house, knowing what was going on here.
Of course, he wasn't going to help. "Nah, I called Felix already. He's going to come get me soon. Get in the shower, I'm sure Mom would love to introduce you." His smirk was obnoxious.
"Fuck off, Emmett." With that final statement, I waltzed into the bathroom, slammed the door, and turned on the shower.
The sound of scratching and Linux crying broke me out of my rage-filled haze, and I opened the door. I never showered alone. Most men would rather it be a real live female showering with them, but I was content to have my favorite pussy in the bathroom with me.
Dear fucking hell, that sounded terrible.
-- ~ --
Freshly scrubbed, I walked upstairs, prepared to face the reason I should have been placed in therapy at the ripe age of eighteen. When you're parents decide to quit their mainstream jobs and "start fresh," you never expect them to do what Emmett and I have struggled to comprehend for years. I made my way outside to the backyard, knowing that was where I would find both my parents and their "company" this afternoon.
"Is that the fruit of my loins?" my mother called out from under the massive gazebo-type structure they'd built when they started their venture.
"Hi Mom," I yelled back, still looking at the ground, giving her a chance to cover up. I'd been privy to my parents nudity far too many times than I cared to admit. After a moment, I thought I was safe, but upon raising my eyes, I discovered I was wrong.
This is the price you pay when your parents are exhibitionists.
It's worse when they open a "sexual exploration" retreat facility out of their home.
Welcome to my life, ladies and gentlemen.
"Edward, my beautiful boy! How are you? I was going to find you soon so you could meet everyone. Won't you come over and introduce yourself?" she asked, walking over in absolutely nothing at all.
Wrapping her arm around my waist, she tried to draw me in for a hug, but I froze, as I always did whenever my mother tried to hug me naked. I honestly didn't know how I made it in this house for so long with my sanity intact.
You're single. You live in a basement. Your girlfriend is your hand. And the only female contact you have is a cat.
Fuck you.
And you think you're sane? You're arguing with yourself.
Good point.
While I was "lost in thought," my mother took it upon herself to lead me over to the gazebo where my father and three other couples were sitting on fluffy pillows, completely nude. The guests of this particular retreat must have been at the "exploring intimacy" stage, as they all were perched in compromising positions, with the females astride the males - All except for my father, of course, who was lounging on a seat like one you would find in a bad porn or a psychiatrist's office, channeling his inner Burt Reynolds.
"Everyone, this is Edward, the wonderful product of Carlisle and my romantic adventures years ago! See what a healthy sexual relationship can give you?" my mother cooed, and I made the mistake of looking the guests in the eyes.
Don't look down. Don't look down... Just look at their faces...
"How are you, son?" my father asked, and I shifted from foot to foot. No matter how many times I'd had to deal with my parents' career choices, it didn't make meeting these people, or talking to him naked any easier.
"I'm okay, Dad. How are you?" I managed to squeak out, wanting nothing more than to disappear.
"I'm doing very well, Edward. We've had such a productive morning," he answered, his voice dripping with innuendo. I tried not to gag. "Esme, my love, my wife, come back to me. You're far too tempting to be all the way over there. I want to feel your skin beneath my fingers."
My mother made her way over to my father and climbed on top of him, before she started speaking again. "See everyone? Verbal foreplay is just as important as physical action. Words can be just as stimulating as manual attention. It helps to enhance the experience for both partners."
I wanted to die. Right there in the afternoon sun.
"Okay Mom, Dad, I'm going to..." I trailed off, pointing behind me towards the house.
"Oh Edward, please stay for a moment. This particular group is here because they are hoping to get pregnant, as well as spice up their bedroom life. Having you here is such inspiration for them! You and your brother are living proof that our methodology works!" my mother said to me, but I refused to look up.
"Why did you stop at two, Esme?" one of the group members asked.
"Good question, Amelia. Why mess with perfection?" she answered, and suddenly I felt everyone's eyes on me. I felt like an ant getting burnt through a magnifying glass on the sidewalk.
"Edward," my father started after clearing his throat, and I looked up at him. Or tried to. My mother's body was in the way of his face. "Why don't you tell the group a little bit about yourself? We want to try and emphasize that a strong sexual bond throughout the months of pregnancy can help better a child's psyche as it forms within the womb. So please, tell them about you."
I debated whether or not living in the cabbage patch combined with toxic cleaning supply fumes was worth this kind of torture.
"Edward," my mother pressed.
"Okay, um..." I began, looking down at the ground once more and fisting my hands at my sides. "So, I'm Edward, obviously, and I'm twenty-five years old. I'm moving to New York City tomorrow, well, I was supposed to move the other day, but there was an issue with the apartment..."
"Edward, tell them about work." My father was always gloating about my profession.
"Yeah, so, I'm a consultant for a large security company. My job involves creating math based security programs for computers."
"You're so successful for someone so young!" a person from the crowd of naked explorers shouted.
"As you probably know already, we spent a lot of time 'improving' Edward's well-being before he was born!" my mother chimed in.
"It must have been at least three times a day for the majority of her pregnancy," my father added.
I didn't know whether or cry, vomit, or commit suicide in that moment.
"What about girls, Edward? Has one stolen your heart?" another group member asked, and I must have looked like Clifford the Big Red Dog with how hot my face felt.
Of course, my mother was quick to answer for me. "Oh no, our dear Edward would greatly benefit from one of our expanding horizons classes, but he has yet to take us up on the offer. He spends too much time on his computer and not enough between the legs of females his age."
Did I mention that I wanted to die? I could have killed Emmett for leaving me here this afternoon.
And he wondered why I never left the basement.
"Mom," I croaked. "Could we not?"
My father answered for her. "Son, there's no harm in masturbation. It's a healthy, natural action for all males. Isn't that right everyone?"
A collective agreement came from the naked audience, and I died a little more inside.
"Plus, it will help you build up your stamina. No one wants a premature ejaculator, and women definitely require more than one orgasm per session. You need to make sure you can last during intercourse, Edward," my father instructed.
"Okay, well, I imagine you all have a lot of um...exploration...to do. So, I'm just gonna head back inside." And cry a little bit.
"Sure, Edward. Please, don't be a stranger! You might learn a thing or two with this group!" exclaimed my mother. She turned her body to face me. "I want grandbabies, Edward. So, you'll be needing to improve your skills in the bedroom, or out of it for that matter, if you want women to stick around! Now, I know that you're well-endowed sweetie, but size isn't everything, and I think that you could be great if you just learned some technique. Your father and I would be happy to teach you..."
I cut her off before she could go any further. "Okay-thanks-everyone-nice-to-meet-you-enjoy-your-time-here," I rushed out, and ran back inside, not stopping until I was in my bed, underneath my blanket, hiding like a kid during a storm.
I didn't come out for the rest of the afternoon.
-- ~ --
"God, Em, it was awful!" I groaned, and stared straight at the ceiling with Linux happily curled in a purring ball on my chest.
"That bad, huh?"
"You have no idea. I mean, it's always bad, but this was just... God, it was pretty fuckin' awful. I want to permanently delete the memory."
Emmett laughed from the computer chair. "I can imagine. Did they demonstrate positions like they did when I brought my ex-girlfriend home from college?"
"Ugh, no. But they were talking about masturbating and technique and shit."
"Well, I've got the perfect plan for you. I think tonight calls for a little 'herbal healing' don't you think?" Emmett asked, and I looked at his face to see a scheming smile. That was never good.
"Emmett, no. You know I can't smoke pot. I get drug tested for work."
"When was your last test?"
"A week ago."
He clapped his hands loudly, stood up and started emptying his pockets. "Well, they certainly aren't going to test again anytime soon. Plus, you'll know when it's coming. I'm sure you've got your file at HR for work on alert or something. Come on, you know you want to. It's just what you need."
He had a point. And my number. I'd hacked into HR's database since the moment I signed my contract.
"I don't know, Em. You know how I get when I smoke."
"Exactly! That's why you should smoke with me. Please? I don't want to smoke alone, and Felix gave me some really good shit today. I had a feeling you would need it."
"Em..." I trailed off, still unsure.
"The power of pot compels you! The power of pot compels you!" he chanted, and if I really thought about it, I knew I could definitely use a little relaxation.
"Fine, Em. We'll smoke. But not too much, alright?" I attempted to sound convincing, but his answering grin told me I was in for a world of stupidity tonight.
"I brought Bongzilla!" Emmett shouted, excited. He'd named his bong after a disturbing streaking incident that involved me, him, the streets of NYC, and the song "Turning Japanese" about a year ago.
Listen, sometimes when you smoke pot outside behind a dumpster, you get fucking paranoid, and the fucking metal contraption resembles something out of Jurassic Park... You would have fucking run away screaming too. Don't judge me.
"Oookay. I'm going to feed Linux while you pack that shit. While I'm upstairs getting her food, what do you want for munchies? I'm not going to see the sex-crazed nudists while high."
We both shuddered. "Yeah, um... whatever you can find sounds good. None of that health food crap though," he requested.
"Em, the last time I brought you health food, you ate it all."
"Edward, that's because you gave me a product that had 'booty' in the title. That was perfectly acceptable, and I was fucking high."
It was true. I gave Emmett a full bag of Pirate's Booty, and he consumed the entire thing, along with four grilled cheese sandwiches, a bag of carrots, a loaf of whole wheat bread, and a box of granola bars.
"Okay Lin, I'm going to get you some food. Can I put you down for a bit?" I asked, and Emmett snorted.
"You need to stop talking to your cat. Seriously, if you ever manage to bag a chick, Bro, don't ever let them see that. It's a little fucking pathetic. And a lot disturbing. Anyway, see if you can find pudding."
"Pudding?"
"Yes, fucking pudding. I want some."
Scooping up Linux, still in a curled up ball, I placed her on the pillow next to my head before walking over to my laptop and turning it on. If I was going to smoke, I would need music. That, and I would have to open the window. If memory served, the "midnight passion session" my parents would host tonight could get vocal, so I'd need something to drown out the noise that was sure to bleed into my skull. Opening iTunes, I put on some Sublime before making my way upstairs to forage for food.
Two boxes of Ritz crackers, a two liter bottle of Coke, a baguette, a bag of Reese's, pudding, an apple, four celery stalks, and a jar of peanut butter later, I was finally back downstairs in my lair of debauchery.
Fuck off. It could have been. Just because it's my parents' basement didn't make the acts committed any less deviant.
Emmett was clearly eager to "get the party started" as I came downstairs into a scene from a Cypress Hill music video. Or Prince. Or downtown Los Angeles before the sun burns off the smog... Whichever made more sense when you walk into a cloud of smoke.
"I got your pudding, Em," I said, my arms full until I dropped all of the items onto a surprisingly clear table in the corner.
"Awesome, Bro. I got the pot. Come hit this."
Taking Bongzilla from his King Kong sized hands, I laughed, wondering when Mothra was going to make an appearance before grabbing the lighter from the desk next to him, and taking a hit. As the smoke filled my lungs, my chest burned, and I wanted nothing more to cough like a geriatric patient who has smoked for sixty years, but I managed to hold it in until I got lightheaded.
I wasn't a fucking pussy.
"Some good shit, right?" he asked, and I nodded, adjusting my glasses and blowing the smoke out through my mouth. "Take another hit, I took three before you walked down here."
I passed the bong back to Emmett after my hits, and already I could feel the effects of the leafy green substance in my system. Everything appeared sharper, even though the outlines of objects blurred together, like someone throwing water on a painting in a museum. Something I had always wanted to do.
The next half-hour passed in the same manner. Emmett and I would take hits from the bong, I'd try not to cough, and my mind would feel heavy from the lack of oxygen. But, I wouldn't complain, as the memories from earlier today slowly dissipated from my conscious mind and gave way to happier thoughts, like Isabella and her ridiculously hot self. I never would have started thinking about her if Emmett hadn't started that particular thought train by asking me to pass the Reese's. I mean, her eyes and hair were brown. Chocolate is brown. It made sense.
To me, anyway.
Emmett's large and in charge - or "in the way" as I put it - ass flopped down on the bed, where Linux was resting peacefully. She must have gotten pretty pissed, since she hissed loudly and jumped into my lap where I was seated in the chair at my computer. Just then, Sublime's "Caress Me Down" came on, and I turned to my computer, my mind hoping that I could catch a glimpse of the one, non-celebrity female I desired to complete said act of caressing me down.
Yeah, I admitted it.
Bringing up Twitter once again, I saw that I had a request from her to follow me, as well as her accepting my request. I fist pumped, earning an odd look from Emmett who was currently plowing through a box of Ritz crackers like Sherman through Georgia.
See? I knew history too.
I refreshed the page only to find that Isabella had updated her status within the last thirty seconds, and I couldn't have been more excited. Not quite sure why I was so excited about being able to communicate with her in 140 characters, I shook off my thoughts of "courting" haikus and read what it said.
NoSleepTill718: Back from bar hopping with my #1 girl. Frogger - your ass is mine.
Isabella plays Frogger? I think I died and went to heaven. But, number one girl? Was she a polygamist lesbian? I hoped she wasn't, but then again, of course I would find a respectable girl, perfectly suited to fit my needs and she'd be a lesbian.
What? Just because I figured out the mathematical proportions of her body from her photo online through a reconstruction program I designed for modified porn and learned that her hips would fit in my hands didn't make me weird. It made me a genius. There was a difference. I had also learned that she was at least 5'3, a size four, and I now knew her bra size.
Maybe that last part made me a little odd. But fuck, you would have done the same thing.
Instead of being smart and just watching her Twitter feed with the stalker tendencies of a guy outside yoga class with binoculars, I responded. Not even thirty seconds later, she wrote back.
She. Wrote. Back.
Edward fucking Cullen was talking to a girl.
I looked outside to make sure the sky hadn't fallen.
NoSleepTill718: Wow, clever. You think that one all up by yourself, or did your 10 year old brother help?
Well, I got a response, but it certainly wasn't what I was hoping for in the least. Of course, Emmett picked right then as the time to stop fucking eating and walk over to the computer.
"Who is that?" he asked, swallowing a mouthful of crackers.
"Isabella."
"The hot chick from your apartment?"
The way he answered had my balls dancing the fucking cha-cha at the thought of her in my apartment. On every surface of my apartment.
"Yeah, the hot chick," I told him, while typing a response. I certainly didn't want Isabella thinking that I was an idiot, so I told her that I was under the influence. At least that way I'd have an excuse for being less than stellar.
Right?
Apparently my mention of leafy green foods had her thinking I was talking about vegetables, and she mentioned something about my fiber intake. Clearly, I was the single most incompetent male on the planet. Emmett agreed, and his laughter boomed in my ear.
NoSleepTill718: Be carefull froggy, I'm on a rampage tonight. No frog is safe around me. I'll be eating froglegs soon enough.
Froglegs? So she liked to eat innocent animals? I clutched Linux in my lap tighter for a moment, then started scratching her behind the ears. You know, just to make sure she knew I loved her.
I wanted to make sure that Isabella knew that I was not okay with the act of eating animals, so I told her I was a vegetarian. Her response had Emmett in stitches and me running for the hills. She called me a vag-a-tarian. I didn't know if I could be attracted to someone that couldn't spell. My mind didn't settle for long though, as I got distracted by the feeling of Linux's fur beneath my fingers. I told her as much.
Well, I thought I did. But instead of saying cat, I said pussy. I thought Emmett was going to have a stroke.
"God, Bro, you're an idiot. This is not that complicated. Are you always this fucking odd? No wonder women don't fucking talk to you!" Emmett shouted in between laughs. I was not amused.
Before the situation could get out of hand and she thought I was a complete pervert, I told her that I was talking about my cat.
NoSleepTill718: Oh, right, that's what I meant. I'm sure she's keeping your lap all warm. I mean, who doesn't love some pussy in your lap?
Isabella understood. One of my favorite things was to have Linux in my lap while I was at the computer. This talking to girls stuff was easier than I thought.
"You know she's not talking about your cat, right?" Emmett asked, and I looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. "Oh god, you didn't figure it out yet? You've got to be kidding me!"
"No she is, Em. We're talking about Linux. You know that. Stop thinking with your fucking dick, man. That's fucking gross," I answered, disgusted.
NoSleepTill718: You love pussy huh? Sounds like my kind of guy. I like a man who knows how to stroke a pussy...
Isabella had a thing for animal lovers! This was going better than I thought possible. We seemed to have a lot in common. Even though we were talking about animals, I couldn't deny that reading these words were undoubtedly having an impact on my dick. I mean, what normal male wouldn't?
I also knew I was never going to smoke pot ever again. It made me stupid and unable to focus on a singular subject. Right now, my mind was thinking about cheese.
NoSleepTill718: My pussy doesn't meow or purr, maybe I'm stroking her the wrong way? Care to share your technique?
Isabella. Was. Talking. About. Her. Pussy.
But I knew she meant cat. From what I remember reading about her yesterday during my dive for information, I don't remember anything about a cat. I would have remembered that particular shared interest.
Using the head on my shoulders, as opposed the one attempting to wave hello from my pants, I told her what I did with Linux to get her to purr. It was quite possible that she had a cat, and I didn't know about it. This would be a great knowledge for any cat owner. Emmett was probably wrong in his assessment that we were discussing her actual pussy, and it would be wrong for me to think so.
"Edward, get up."
"What? No! I'm staying right here. I'm comfortable. We're comfortable," I said, gesturing to my lap.
"Don't you want to eat something?" he asked, pointing to the overwhelmingly large amount of food on the table.
Once I stopped thinking about the word "pussy" associated with Isabella, I quickly got out of the chair and walked to grab food. I didn't realize just how fucking hungry I was until I started munching on celery and peanut butter.
Right now, this was better than sex.
Thoroughly distracted by food, it wasn't until I heard the distant sound of moaning in the background did I notice Emmett was typing on the computer.
"Emmett? What're you doing?"
"Nothing, man, just looking for music," he responded quickly, and I couldn't find it in me to argue. Suddenly, I was really fucking tired.
"Okay." Taking my celery and peanut butter, along with my apple back to bed, I got under the covers and continued eating. The sounds of chewing drowned out the moans and groans coming from outside my fucking window, and I munched happily away .
"Hey Edward?"
"Yeah," I said with a full mouth.
"Would you be willing to do the stats for my game next week? I know the guys really appreciated when you did it last time. It's pretty cool."
With a full stomach, a contented smile, and my furball in bed with me, I readily agreed. Then again, if Emmett asked me to go to the moon, I probably would have said yes at this point.
"Yeah, sure, Em. Sounds like a plan." The moaning returned full force and louder than ever. "Turn up the music, will you? I don't want to hear the cries of passion."
"No problem, Edward. And you swear that you'll come to the game?"
"Yeah, Em. I swear."
A/N: Dun, dun, DUNNNN! Whew! That was a big one. ::giggle:: That's what she said…
A couple of important messages from our sponsors. Erm, not really. But messages all the same.
First, my partner in crime, the lovely YogaGal celebrated a birthday. That's huge. Happy birthday to her! ILY.
Second! CONTEST! I don't know about you, but I love me some good, chafing, dry hump action. In the for serious. The lovely ladies nerac/carenl and Kassiah are hosting this here contest and I have the honor of being a judge. Whoa! So, I encourage you to enter. Since apparently, I'm a shameless h00r that doesn't mind begging… linkage!
http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net(slash)u(slash)2291087(slash)FunWithYourClothesOn
Next chapter is allllllll Yoga. I have no idea what's coming next, as usual. As Yoga had no clue what was going on with this chapter… I wonder what her reaction was…
More importantly, I wonder what YOUR reaction was. Wanna tell me?
Until next time! Don't hug a naked parent. It's just weird.
