DCM A/N: Welcome to another pervy edition of Squeeze My Lemon. I'm SaritaDreaming, your guest hostess, because we have a special treat for you today... our very own chartwilightmom is the squeezer of the lemon. Gals, you MUST look at the photo prompt before reading this. Let me give you a little hint: there's no padding on the swimteam in THIS one-shot! If you didn't see the picture prompt, here is the link dirtycheekymonkeys(.)blogspot(.)com/2011/03/squeeze-my-lemon-march-16(.)html Ready, set, squeeze!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Squeeze My Lemon~~~~~~~~~ 03.16.11~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the respective author. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express written authorization. ©2011 chartwilightmom. All rights reserved worldwide.
Huge hugs and boobie grabs to Saritadreaming for not only guest hosting SML this week, but pre-reading and beta'ing this OS. This OS has been in the back of my head for sometime, and being a lifelong swimmer myself, I couldn't resist when my fellow twitter perv lou got me this picture. *licks lips* Enjoy.
Layers
Care if I vent a little?
Wonderful.
Let me tell you about a story of frustration; my sexual frustration.
Frustration can be defined as a feeling of disappointment, exasperation, or weariness caused by goals being thwarted or desires unsatisfied.
And a major desire of my life for the past four years, and the source of this frustration is Edward Cullen.
We have a long history together, so all you really need to know is that during our freshman year of college, on the first day of practice for swim team, I met Edward Cullen. We had an instant chemistry between the two of us. We spent the next three years flirting with each other, remaining platonic friends.
And even though we had the chemistry, we never could seem to find the right timing. Either he had a girlfriend or was dating someone, or I had a boyfriend or was dating someone. It always seemed to work out that way for some reason.
Until ten days ago when everything changed.
Just ten days ago, school started again after the summer break, the beginning of our senior year.
I had just spent the summer working at a camp, casually dating another counselor—nothing serious, and nothing to write home about.
Edward had spent his summer on the opposite side of the country, working with swimmers training for the Olympics.
We had emailed a few times, but communication was minimal.
After our first team meeting, Edward asked me out for lunch afterward, something about catching up.
During that fateful lunch, we both discovered that we were single at the same time.
Shocking, I know.
So he asked me out for dinner that evening—a real date.
With a stupid grin on my face, I accepted, ran home, and prepared for what was sure to be the best date of my life. I primped and groomed, dreaming happily about finally quenching this desire that had been building for three years for Edward.
I wanted and needed sex with Edward that night.
Instead, what the fuck did I get?
A polite and gentlemanly escort who took me to dinner, only to finally hold my hand at the end of the night, leaving me with small chaste kiss on the cheek at my front door.
Disappointment didn't even begin to describe how I felt.
Let down, bummed, rejected, despondent, disillusioned, crestfallen, unsatisfied, sad, mad, humiliated, but most of all, unwanted.
Was I not good enough for Edward? We've been flirting with each other for over three years. I knew the boy has had sex. He fucking dated the mattress of the school for fuck's sake, Jane Brently.
Did he not desire me as I desired him?
So after years of flirting and getting the feeling that we would be awesome in bed together, I was left confused.
Oh, and frustrated.
And that was only the beginning.
I wanted to give him another try, hoping that maybe he was just trying to take things slow.
It was possible. Right?
So we spent as much time together as possible over the next ten days. He walked me to class, had lunch with me, even dinner. We've been to the movies and hung out with friends.
But at each parting, he would lean in, giving me the impression that he was going to kiss me, but then move and go for my cheek.
Yesterday, when he took me home after dinner, I didn't give him the chance to kiss my cheek. I grabbed his face and slammed my mouth to his, kissing with all my might before licking his lips and slipping my tongue into his hot mouth.
He reacted like I wanted, wrapping his arms around my body, pulling me close and returning the kiss with fervor.
But before I knew it, he broke our kiss, holding me back with the same arms that only seconds before were wrapped around my body, holding me close.
I stared at him, confused and unsure of what he was trying to accomplish.
Without a word, he left me standing there.
Frustrated.
So that leads me to what is happening right now...
I'm sitting in the benches on the sidelines of the pool, waiting for swim practice, watching the coach pace back and forth in front of the whole team, trying to motivate us into a winning frame of mind.
But instead of listening, I'm stewing, thinking, and daydreaming; all those things I shouldn't be doing before practice. I should be listening to coach, preparing to get into the pool and swim till my limbs fall off, but I'm not. And what's worse, Edward's sitting in front of me, and my eyes are trying to burn holes in the back of this head.
It's not working, by the way.
The coach claps his hands and blows his whistle, sending everyone off the benches to get ready for practice.
Most of the team members come from class or work, so we don't have much time to change before having to get into the pool. To save time, most of us wear our suits under our clothes, opting to shower and change after practice.
I've gotten into the habit of seductively removing my clothes for the benefit of Edward over the years, and my body just moves to the routine.
Edward gets off the bench and follows the coach over to the team's office. Even wearing his normal baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, his beautiful feet poking out while shoved into his blue and white flip flops, he looks sexy as fuck.
Unzipping my jacket and laying it down beside me on the bench, I move to remove my snow boots next. Nothing sexy about this, but it gives me the chance to see if Edward is watching.
And he is.
Staring right back at him, I start to remove my clothes, starting with my sweater, then my t-shirt, leaving the upper part of my bathing suit exposed. Each time a piece goes over my head, I shake my hair out, stretching my neck, and moaning at the feeling.
I snap open my jeans and lower the zipper, only to stop and stretch out my lats and shoulders. With each tug, pull and stretch, my jeans slide down my hips exposing more and more of my bathing suit, until the sides lower to the point that you can see the sliver of flesh on my hips where my bathing suit stops.
Getting lost in the feeling of the stretches, I forget what I'm trying to do—what I've always tried to do—tease Edward.
My eyes have closed, but pop open when I hear a growl in front of me.
Looking very pissed, I roll my eyes and address him, "Edward."
"Bella, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm getting ready for practice. Why?"
"You're giving everyone quite the fucking show over here," he sneers at me.
My attitude goes from confused and frustrated to being pissed with that one sentence. I glare back at him, then decide to fuck with him.
My scowl turns into an evil grin as I begin to shimmy my jeans off my hips, and down my legs, leaning over and removing one foot at a time.
Left in nothing but my bathing suit, I turn my back to Edward, bend over and collect my stuff off the floor, folding it and placing it in my bag.
"Bella," Edward whines.
"Edward, is there a problem? Is my 'show' to your liking?"
"Don't do this."
I finish with my bag, having gotten out my hair tie, cap and goggles. My evil smile turns back to a glare.
"You obviously don't like what I have to offer, so why the fuck do you care?" I seethe at him.
I'm beyond my limit, he's had ample time to show his desire for me, but no, he decides to be the gentleman.
But my thoughts go to that place, thinking of the worst conclusion about his behavior; that he doesn't want me.
Not like I want him. Now that he can have me, I'm nothing.
Edward grabs my hand, jerking me off the benches, and pulls me across the pool deck and into the guardroom, shutting and locking the door behind us.
He looks angry, and frustrated himself.
Guess I pushed the right buttons with him.
He paces before me, his hands roughly tugging his hair.
"You don't think I want you? Are you fucking crazy?"
Leaning against the wall, I shake my head. It's time for me to face the facts. End this before I break my heart even more. "Just look at the facts, Edward; we've been going out for ten days, and you have yet to make any kind of move on me. What other explanation do I have but that you don't want me?"
Closing my eyes, I bring my hand up to rub them. Why can't Edward just let this go? We tried, we failed, time to move on.
I suddenly hear the movement of fabric and look up to see Edward removing his baggy t-shirt.
There, no more than five feet in front of me, is Edward's toned and chiseled chest.
Edward's body is, well... fuckhot. It always has been. Defined perfectly from years of swimming, his body most likely contains less than 8% body fat.
I remember seeing it that first day of practice all those years ago, my fingers longing to touch and run over ever dip and carving of his magnificent torso.
And now, so close.
"Edward." Now it's my turn to moan.
"Do you want to see what you do to me? Why after years of being able to focus on practice, my will is shattered by your presence alone? Why I've had to change to wearing baggy sweatpants over my trunks just to hide the massive fucking hard-on that you give me every time I see you..." he waves his arms up and down at me "...like that."
I gulp, listening to his words, but seeing the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes.
He slowly lowers his baggy sweatpants to reveal his Speedo. But what gets my attention is his hard cock, straining in them, and the tip of it popping out of the top, red and thick.
Hmm, Edward is a grower, not a shower. Who knew?
I lick my lips and hear Edward growl.
Motioning to his predicament, he sucks in a breath. "This is what you do to me, every fucking time. I can't control myself. You mean so much to me; I can't risk hurting you."
I take a small step toward him, then another. My fingers reach out, touching his naked chest for the first time. Soft skin covers the hard muscles underneath, moving and tensing under my fingers. Edward's breath picks up, his chest rising and falling, the breath leaving his mouth and brushing over my face.
I take another step forward, leaving less than a foot of space between us.
My fingers trace over a few of the peaks and valleys which I've longed to touch over the past three plus years. They make their way down, ghosting over his happy trail, ending on the edge of his trunks, close to, but not touching, his hardened length.
"I think it's about time I took control then," I seductively say, dropping to my knees. My hands move to the sides of his hips, roughly pulling his sweatpants down to his feet before fingering his Speedo and slowly dragging it down his legs.
Edward in all his glory is before me, his desire evident in what is bobbing before my face. Something that I've only dreamed about is about to happen, and I smile before my hand comes in contact with his cock.
Silk stretched across overheated steel meets my own warm fingers. Feather touches run along his swollen head, as my eyes watch it pulse and twitch with excitement.
Looking up, Edward is focused on me. Giving him a sweet smile, I poke my tongue out and lean in to lick.
He hisses as my wet tongue touches, giving him one circular lick over the head.
Giving into my desire for Edward, I lick again, alternating between full sweeps in one direction, then the other. Watching him pulse and twitch, I finally suck the entire head into my mouth, swirling my tongue.
Pulling him back out, I drag my tongue over his length then engulf him in my mouth again, taking in as much as possible, my hand stroking his overheated skin at the base.
As I grab his balls, rolling and tugging them gently with my other hand, he moans, "Fuck, yeah."
Feeling powerful with Edward's cock in my hands, my mouth giving him pleasure, and his control surrendered to me, I set a pace, not knowing how long we have before someone comes looking for us.
Increasing my rhythm, I hear Edward grab roughly at the desk behind him, while his other hand goes to my hair, pulling it back so he can watch.
I hum, causing Edward to pant with mumbled words falling from his lips—approval of my actions.
I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of Edward in my mouth as the frustrations about our physical relationship melt away with each dip of my head.
Hollowing out my cheeks, my rhythm is set by the pace that Edward creates as his fingers tangle in my hair, effectively fucking my mouth.
"I'm going to…," Edward breathlessly tries to speak. "Fuck, Bella."
And even when his balls start to tighten, I don't let up.
I want all of him.
He comes, fisting his hand in my hair, stilling my movements. His load shoots into my mouth as I relax my throat and take everything he gives me.
Sweeping my tongue over his softening cock, I give one last swipe over the head before pulling his Speedos up, tucking him securely back in.
I smirk at him as he grabs me by the arms and pulls me to stand in front of him. "You know, I really think you have a good handle on controlling yourself."
"Bella," he whispers, reaching up to stroke my cheek, sweeping my hair behind my ear.
His lips find mine, kissing me roughly, giving me the passion that I've desired.
"Let's see how you can control yourself," he says, smirking.
"Control myself?"
"Yes," he says, kissing me once more before ghosting his lips over my cheek to whisper in my ear, "Hope you control yourself knowing what I'm going to do to your fuckhot body after practice."
His hands move down my arms, palming my ass and squeezing.
"The levels of pleasure I'm going to bring to your body will leave you a quivering mess in my bed. And I don't intend on letting you rest until my desire for your body is sated."
Suddenly, I have a whole new definition for frustration.
A/N: If you really want to see this extended, please encourage my fellow DCM and pervy twin chelle to write her magic with a 'cocky' swimward.
DCM A/N: So... are you as hot and sweaty as I am? *Fanning self* Would anyone else like to be at the after-party of this swim practice? *Raising hand* Maybe we can persuade our own little DCM to write part two... Leave her some hawt and steamy lovin' peeps!
Next week we are tickled pink to have another returning author who just so happened to have a juicy lemon waiting to submit, luvrofink. Be on the look out for her picture prompt and a tease next Monday.
If you are interested in writing for Squeeze My Lemon, or know of authors that you would like to see write for us, please contact us at dirtycheekymonkeys(at)yahoo(dot)com or check out our blog dirtycheekymonkeys(dot)blogspot(dot)com