"You certainly like your food, don't you?" Bella asked, eying me carefully. I was going to have to play this very cool, since I was acting like a complete psychopath right now.
"Well, they say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, right? I'm merely confirming the theory," I smiled back at her, trying to convey some sort of confidence and praying she wouldn't kick me out before we ever got this date underway.
"Maybe you can confirm a few other...theories," she added, eying my fork. At least, I think she was looking at my fork.
I speared another chunk of pancake. "And?"
As I chewed the next forkful, she continued, "And, I was wondering if it's true what they say about men and the length of their fingers in relation to the size of their penis."
And now my pancake was spewing from my mouth, across the table. Classy. I was going to try my damnedest to ignore the little piece that stuck to her left breast.
Do not stare at the boobs. Do NOT stare at the...
Then Bella had the audacity to laugh at me as I coughed and sputtered, sipping at my orange juice in an attempt to dislodge anything I'd inhaled.
"You're too easy, Edward," she giggled and sipped on her juice, looking up and raising an eyebrow to me in challenge.
Oh, you think you've won this round, Miss Swan? I don't think so.
"Really, Bella? I always thought I was too...HARD." I emphasized the word hard with a pointed look directly into her eyes. At least she had the decency to look away and blush.
"Yes, well..." she half-whispered, focusing far too closely on her plate.
Attempting to lift the awkward moment we'd both created, and desperately trying to ignore the piece of pancake that still stuck to her breast, I changed topics. "So, where did you learn to cook like this?"
Her smile returned, blooming across her face, and she looked up at me again. I could stare at those beautiful dark irises for all eternity.
"Well, my Granny Swan taught me most everything I know. Mom was a shitty cook, bless her heart, and Granny insisted that one of us should learn how to cook a hearty meal, so that my dad wouldn't waste away to nothing."
"I can say, without any doubt, your dad must have weighed a ton if he had your delicious cooking to consume every day."
She smirked in response, "Yeah, he wasn't a small man by any means. It was all fine and good until he had the heart attack. Then mom took over the cooking again and she made us all go vegetarian."
"Oh?"
"It wasn't bad," she explained, "She actually was an excellent vegan cook, surprisingly enough. Dad dropped the weight and hasn't had a problem since, which I'm really grateful for. It just wasn't exactly what every teenager wants to eat, while the rest of your friends are pigging out on burgers and fries and pepperoni pizza. To be honest, it probably was a blessing, since the purity of the food seemed to clear up my acne."
I nodded. "I can't imagine you with acne. You have beautiful skin."
No, I wasn't going to reach out and caress that skin. Yet.
"So I take it you aren't vegetarian anymore?" I queried, knowing she thoroughly enjoyed the chicken laden pizza the other night. I kicked myself a bit for not asking her if she had any dietary restrictions. Stupid Edward. Very stupid!
The frown on her face had me puzzled, "Well, I sort of still am."
"And I made you eat chicken." It was more of a statement of fact, than a question.
"Well, it's not like I'm all PETA and can't eat anything with a face. It's more of a..."
"Lifestyle choice?" I ventured to finish.
"Exactly. I feel really healthy. I'm rarely sick. My skin looks great. My body's in great shape. I can't complain."
Because my verbal filter was on vacation, I added lasciviously, "I won't complain either."
Because Bella's appeared to be on hiatus too, she added with equal lustful fervor, "I know you won't."
I can't really tell you what happened in that moment, where our eyes were connected by this invisible thread, holding our gazes in a hypnotic staring contest. My breathing increased and hers followed suit. And then the next thing I knew, we were practically climbing over the table to reach each other and I assaulted her mouth with my tongue. Of course, it wasn't really assault, because that would imply that my tongue wasn't welcomed. And let me just say this: it was VERY welcomed.
The maple flavor of the syrup added to the sweetness of the kiss, as our tongues explored and massaged each other. I couldn't get enough of her essence as I drank her in. If one could get drunk on a kiss, I'd have been an alcoholic.
And then I was pushing plates and food out of the way, as I sat her on the dining table. I prayed that the table was sturdy enough to support us, because flipping the table on top of ourselves would be a major cock block. Thankfully, the table wasn't going anywhere for the time being.
Her legs snaked around my waist, drawing my pelvis closer to her own, as our mouths danced together. I needed to taste all of her, so my lips ventured past her mouth, nipping softly against her jaw. The moans she emitted spurred me on further and I nuzzled further to her ear, leaving soft breaths to tickle her earlobe.
"Mmmmm...Edward," she moaned, pulling me closer with the vice grip of her legs.
My cock met the heat at the juncture of her thighs, luring it towards her like a moth to a flame. It had it's own dance, as my hips dipped and swirled against her, leaving a deliciously painful hardness wherever it stroked against the warmth.
Bella met my rhythm perfectly, grinding softly against my erection, causing tingling pinpricks to develop in my crotch.
"Bella, please...I want...oh god," I chanted incoherently. There was no chance I'd be able to have a complete thought until I found some kind of release. She just felt so..."good" wasn't an accurate portrayal. Stupendous? Out of this world?
And while I was trying to find a word to quantify how she felt, Bella had been working at my zipper, because soon the scratch of fabric was replaced by the smoothness of the palm of her hand, stroking me into submission like the whipped puppy that I was. I'd be her willing slave if she never stopped caressing my manhood.
And while I searched my mind to find a way to pledge my very soul for a taste of her warmth, Bella had been working at her own zipper and slipping her pants down over her ass, which was probably why my hands were able to start kneading the flesh of her tiny tush, bringing her impossibly closer.
And while the tip of my aching penis became drenched in the opening of her most intimate place, Bella had drawn me closer still.
"Bella, I don't have..."
"Shhh...it's okay. Just feel, baby."
With little pomp and circumstance, I was plunged into ecstasy as I was slowly enveloped by the tightest, wettest, warmest cocoon I ever had the pleasure of knowing. Potent pleasure wept from my dick, as it was rhythmically tortured with the slick embrace of her pussy. Her sighs and moans caused her inner walls to pulse and throb around my aching rod. Our lips whispered unspoken declarations of love and devotion, in a tangle of tongues and teeth.
"Bella, I'm going to..."
"Please Edward, I..."
My thrusts became erratic, as I felt my climax roaring at me like a freight train. My fingers reached between us to tap and swirl around her swollen bundle of nerves as I found my release far too soon.
"Bella, Bella, Bella," I chanted into her neck, as I worshiped her body and soul and spilled my seed into her in offering.
Despite the instant lethargy that fought to claim my body, I continued my intimate massage of her body, bringing her to her own climax a few minutes later, and then collapsed on the table beside her.
"Wow..." she exclaimed in a hushed declaration, still clinging to my body.
"Yeah..." I had to agree with her. My arms squeezed around her.
"That was..." Apparently, Bella lost coherent thoughts when panting and post-coital.
"You like?" I prodded, needing the requisite male ego boost.
"No."
Okay, not the answer I was expecting.
"Oh?" I tentatively questioned, trying not to sound too disappointed.
"I LOVED!"
We laid wrapped around each other on this cold uncomfortable table.
And there was no other place I'd rather be.