DCM A/N: This week we excited to have a returning squeezer, DreamQuill, who is bringing us a followup to her squeezing on chapter 39, The Bella Hour. Check out the picspiration that she brought with her on our blog www . dirtycheekymonkeys . blogspot . com Ready, set, squeeze!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Squeeze My Lemon~~~~~~~~~ 04.25.12~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30 AM Wake up

6:00 AM Running and exercise

7:00 AM Shower and get dressed

7:30 AM Eat breakfast and Misc.

8:30 AM Arrive at office

12:00 PM Lunch

12:30 PM Answer personal emails

5:00 PM End workday

5:30 PM Errands

6:00 PM Watch television or play X-Box

7:00 PM The Bella Hour

8:00 PM Dinner and reading

9:00 PM Morning preparation

9:30 PM Feed the fish and lock up

10:00 PM Sleep

EPOV

When I arrive, she is sitting on the couch in a long blue anime-style wig and schoolgirl skirt. She hasn't bothered to put on a top and I watch her breasts bob as she tries to sit still. Like me, Bella is never at ease or comfortable in her own skin. The things she has told me make me think that she was made this way by a horrible childhood, though, I never pry.

"Hello," she mutters, pointing to the seat next to her on the couch. I know then that we will not have sex tonight. Sometimes, we are not in the mood or Bella is on her menstrual cycle.

"Do you want me to go?" Even as I ask the question, I hope that she will say no. I hate her for making me this pathetic.

She shakes her head and says, "Stay. We can watch one of my vids."

Inside I am in tumult. Bella's burlesque videos are bad. Her mother edits them so that her supposed flaws are highlighted with red circles. Bella is very good and built like a perfect doll, but in her mother's eyes she is competition.

The music begins and Bella walks out on the stage. From the look of the audience, I can tell that she is somewhere in Asia. She starts to sing an upbeat cabaret song and dance around stage. When she pulls her long gown up to reveal her legs, the crowd cheers.

"This one is Tokyo, five years ago. I had to stay out of the sun for three months to keep my skin as pale as possible. Mother made me eat nothing but white foods."

I beg her. "Please stop talking. I don't want to know too many details. We've discussed this before, Isabella."

Her eyes snap to me. "Fine. I'll just get on my knees and blow you. That's all you're here for anyway."

I nod. "I don't like you or enjoy your company. We fulfill each others needs, nothing more and nothing less."

She is a little rougher than usual as she unzips and takes me out of my starched pants. I have not changed after work. The day has been stressful, and I need the distraction. Before I can take my next thought, Isabella's mouth is engulfing me.

I place my hand on the back of her neck and push down until she gags. I feel so good when I'm in her mouth. It is almost easy for me to believe that I am not a failure. Thought I absolutely loathe Isabella as a person, she is good at her work. It is no wonder men have paid her for it. Hell, she is practically built to be a life-size sex doll.

I feel that I am close and reach down to pinch Isabella's nipples. She moans around me and lightly scrapes her little teeth against my shaft. I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood as the orgasm washes over me. Again, I come in her mouth and she swallows it like a nasty whore.

"You can go now if you want," she mutters, standing up. There is a little cum in her wig and it sits crooked.

I look at the clock. "We still have about twenty-five minutes. I can do you."

Tokyo Instead of answering, she disappears upstairs. I use the time to clean up and get a bottle of water. Isabella's kitchen is pristine because she rarely eats and never cooks. I sit and stare at the bowls full of fruit and nuts that never get eaten. She sometimes gives them to me or donates to a food bank.

Ten minutes until eight, Isabella returns. She has a bottle of pills and a large bottle of vodka. I watch her take a handfull of pills and drown them with the liquor. I have seen her high before and this does not surprise me. I am not sure if Isabella is addicted to pain medication but I suspect it, though, I should not care.

"It's for the cramps," she says, as if that's an explanation.

I stand up and walk towards the foyer. "We can cancel the hour for the next few days. I have a business trip out of town this weekend, so I will probably not see you again until next week."

I am opening the door when I feel her hand on my shoulder. She looks up at me, still naked from the waist up. "In, I met a man named Jacob Black. He was wealthy and I let him own me for a year. We fucked like farm animals. He was possessive and used his fists and a belt to keep me in line. I got pregnant with his child, but he made me abort it. He said I would make a horrible mother."

I cover my ears and hiss. "I don't want to know!"

Silently, she reaches behind her back and pulls out a huge black leather belt. "Use all the hate you have for me in your heart and hit me. I promise not to make a sound." I am not surprised because she has asked me to punish her on numerous occasions.

I lift the belt, feeling the weightiness of it in my hands. Isabella is down on her knees in front of me. She bows her head and waits for the first blow. All I can do is stare at her and the heavy object in my hand. She wants me to be a monster like Jacob Black, but I will not oblige.

"Don't ever show me this again," I say quietly before throwing the belt down and leaving.

Then, I run full speed to my house and collapse against the front door. I rub my head until the image of Isabella kneeling on the floor is gone. She can drown in her pills and booze for all I care. I can't give her my schedule or anything. I have been trusted with responsibility before and failed.

After washing my hands, I eat a chicken salad without dressing for dinner. The food goes down in a lump and I realize that it is because I'm crying. I watch the clock and let myself fall apart. Soldiers aren't supposed to cry but no one from my military days is here to see me.

They're all dead. You killed them. I push the thought away along with my bland dinner.

I quickly complete my other chores and lay down in my bed. It feels like a coffin because I am dead. The only time I live is when I'm with Bella, and now that is tarnished. I wish that I could go back and erase the day. Why does she have to ruin me?

The next day I am in a foul mood. I yell at several employees about problems that are not really that important. Everyone avoids me like I have a contagious disease. I just want to scream and jump off a cliff but suicide is easy. I still have some pride.

My secretary Angela is the only one brave enough to seek me out. "Mr. Cullen, I just want to let you know the chartered bus will be here at six in the morning on Friday to drive us to Seattle. I also called and double checked on the hotel. We're all set."

I blink slowly until her face comes into focus. They are all faceless at first. "Good. You may go." She scurries away as quickly as possible.

~~TBH~~

"I'm so glad you called me over for dinner. I attended your mother's art show last week, and we both missed you."

I look over at Tanya as she fiddles with the pink cardigan around her neck. Her father and my father are business partners. It has always been Carlisle's dream to see us end up together. Tanya is sophisticated, educated, and polite. I can't stand her but I occasionally endure her company.

We are in my living room waiting for the salmon to cook. Tanya has to fill every quiet moment with endless chatter. Inwardly, I am cringing but outwardly, I look like a perfect gentleman. Tanya will give Esme a good report and I will be left alone for another few weeks.

"So, Edward," Tanya purrs as she places her hand over my crotch. "I think I know what you need."

I sit very still. "What?"

She takes my flaccidness out and grips it in her hand. I don't harden until my mind wanders to Isabella. Tanya thinks it is for her and licks her lips. She holds me too tight and there's no moisture. It is almost painful but I want to prove that Isabella doesn't own me. I can have a Tanya Hour.

A few minutes later, I remove her hand. "I need to finish up the pasta," I say, making a hasty retreat.

I stay in the kitchen longer than necessary to get myself under control. Tanya is considered a beautiful woman, but she does nothing for me. Her hair is too long and her scent too sweet. She is a bit cold and reserved. With Isabella, I have fire.

Dinner is unpleasant. Tanya makes me drink a glass of the white wine she brought, even though I declined several times. She notices me watching the clock and frowns. I quickly put on a fake smile and ask her about her job; that does the trick.

By ten to nine, I am walking Tanya Denali to the door. Isabella is across the street looking at us from her balcony. Deciding that this is the perfect opportunity to rid myself of my obsession, I pull Tanya in for a kiss. I even let my hands squeeze her back. She presses her body to wantonly and moans. I watch Isabella's face the whole time-she is angry.

"Do you want me to stay?" Tanya asks, a hopeful gleam in her sea blue eyes.

"No. We can do this again next week. Goodnight, Tanya."

After she drives away in her BMW, Isabella marches over to my house. "Who was that?" she asks.

I shrug. "My new girlfriend. It's really none of your business."

She plays with a frayed edge of the old t-shirt she is wearing. "Your new girlfriend looks like a Stepford Wife. I bet she'll make you very happy."

Ignoring her tantrum, I walk up the steps. "It's almost nine, so I would appreciate it if you went home now."

Isabella laughs. "I'm in the mood for a DP tonight. I want one cock in my ass and one in my pussy. I think I'll call Quil and Embry. Care to watch?"

I ball my fists up. "Thanks, but I've already seen you get fucked like a dirty whore. Goodnight, Isabella."

I climb into bed but sleep escapes me. Soon, I go to the window and take out my telescope. Isabella is on the balcony with a red-headed woman. They are both drinking and I notice that the redhead is wearing a strap-on. Bella opens her legs and the other woman goes down on her.

I am disgusted, but I can't move. The woman works Isabella until she comes. Then, she takes Isabella's seat in the patio lounger. They share a passionate kiss that makes me twitch and leak. The woman roughly pulls Isabella down onto her lap. They adjust themselves and the redhead begins thrusting. She slaps and tugs on Isabella's nipples until she leaves marks. From what I can see, Isabella is screaming. The redhead makes her get down on all fours and rides her doggy style while pulling her hair.

Soon, Isabella is spent and they trade places. The redhead is at least six inches and about twenty pounds bigger than Isabella. Her hair is like fire, but it is too long for my taste. Bella gives the redhead her very own orgasm. Aftewards, they lay spent in each other's arms.

Without even noticing it, I come in my pants. Cursing myself, I go into the bathroom to wash up and change. When I come back, the women are no longer on the balcony. I climb into bed just as my cell phone buzzes with a text message:

The boys were busy, so I called Victoria. I hope you liked the show. - Bella

~~TBH~~

"Wow is that Isabella Swan?" Mike asks as he sits by me on the bus. I am not sure why I am looking at her old videos on Youtube.

I nod. "What do you want, Mr. Newton?" He is one of my lead IT guys and an overgrown fratboy.

"You live next door to her, right?" He points to my laptop screen.

"She is my neighbor but we hardly know each other." I want to punch him in the face.

"Well... could you introduce us? I saw her in the supermarket one day, but I was too nervous to talk to her. She's just so beautiful and like walking sex." He ends his sentence with a nervous giggle.

"From what I hear, she makes friends easily. There are always different men's cars parked in her driveway. Be careful." Isabella is not exclusive to me, so I don't care if he becomes her next plaything.

He ponders this quietly. "She seems kind of high maintenance, though. I'll have to feel it out." I am relieved when he vacates the seat, leaving me alone.

We arrive in Seattle a little after eleven. I depart from the group and check into my room. I have paid for a higher end corner room suite because I value my privacy. My employees are loud and boisterious on these tech weekends, and I have no plans to join in with their party.

The conferences are long and boring, but I make several new business contacts. Riley always used to say that I was too handsome for my own good, and it is never more obvious than when I attend these events. Women touch my shoulder and smile at me like I am their personal sex god.

I use a modified schedule and keep my eyes on my watch. Time keeps me sane and I desperately need that these days. Isabella is ruining what little is left of my life. I want her almost every second but she is not good for me.

After a workout at the fitness center, I make my way back. It is strange to see men and women chatting around me. I always feel so foreign from these people. Unfortunately, there is a surprise waiting for waiting for me in my room.

"Surprised to see me, Colonel," she says.

I swallow hard. "It's six and we're not in Forks. Go home."

She struts over and places my hands on her tiny waist. "Make me."

All I can think of is how she looked with the redhead between her thights. I drag her over to the dresser and push her had down to the surface. She is only wearing a black corset with her breasts pushed up high and heels.

I rip her underwear off and slip on a condom. She is already very wet, like she's been playing with herself. I am rougher than usual and push so hard that we shake the dresser. I look up into the mirror and watch myself fuck Isabella. My green eyes flash darkly as the muscles in my arms and abs move and tighten.

"Yes! This is what I wanted," Bella shouts, while pushing back against me.

I pull her hair, glad that she has worn it natural today. "Shut up!"

She keens and clenches me. I know that it will be over soon. Four thrusts later, I come so hard that the condom feels like it's breaking. I dislodge and pull if off, throwing it into the bin. Isabella is still laying against the wood trying to catch her breath. I break the clasps on her corset, letting it fall at her feet.

I am angry about what she's done. My schedlue is ruined. In a fit of anger, I grab her by the hair and drag her to the door. She is whimpering and crying, but I don't care. I open the door and throw her out into the hallway.

"There are plenty of single men in these rooms, you filthy slut," I say menacingly. "I'm sure you can find some willing participants. Hey, maybe you should even charge and make some extra cash."

I slam the door and run to the bathroom. I make it to the toilet before the dry heaves begin. I have not eaten anything today except oatmeal and fruit. After I feel that I will not vomit, I close the toilet seat and lay my head against the cold porcelin. The wall clock tells me that it is just after seven-thirty.

Suddenly overcome by remorse and guilt, I stand up and run to the door. Isabella is sitting right by the door wrapped in a small towel. She has tear marks on her cheeks and is shivering. I bend down and pick her up carefully.

"I'm sorry," I whisper as I shut the door.

Next, I put her on the bed and go run a bath in the jacuzzi tub. I use the hotel spa's jasmine and vanilla bubble bath. Soon, the scent permeates the entire space. I return to the room and get Isabella. She has not spoken or moved, and it is frightening.

I gently wash her body and her hair while murmuring, "I'm sorry."

"He used to bathe me. It started when I was thirteen. I liked it." I do not want to know, but I have been cruel so I owe her this.

"Who?"

"Mother's French lover Philippe. When my father traveled for business, he lived with us. Mother loved him more than she loved my father, but he was too poor to keep her in the lifestyle she loved."

I use a sponge and wash around her collarbone area. "Tell me more." It hurts to say the words.

"Philippe liked to pretend he was my father. I called him daddy and he called me little girl. He insisted that I always wear white panties for him. Mother even asked why I always chose the same color, but I just played coy."

"On Halloween night that year, mother threw a big party. Philippe got her drunk and high enough so that she passed out rather early. Then, he came to my room. I was laying in bed with those white panties and nothing else. He pulled out his short thick cock and popped my cherry. It was glorious." Her eyes go glassy at the memory.

"We found ways to be together. Mother was going through menopause, so she had little use for Philippe's sexual prowess. I picked up the slack, and in return, he taught me about my body. Sometimes, he liked to watch me fuck a boy from school. He'd hide in the closet and then spank me for being dirty afterwards."

I lowered the sponge into the suds again. "I don't think I can stand to hear anymore."

She ignores me and keeps going. "Over time, we got reckless. Mother caught us fucking in her bed. She threw a vase at Philippe and attacked me-the maid and gardener had to pry her off. The next day, Philippe's friend gave me a message that he was going home to France."

"Long story short, Philippe saw boudoir photos of me online. By then, I was eighteen and had my trust fund. He invited me to come to Paris and meet his burlesque dancer friend. I sold all my stuff and hopped on a plane."

"His friend Rosalie was the most beautiful woman I'd seen in my life. I was immediately attracted to her. She let me kiss and fondle her breasts but nothing more. She looks like a cross between a wet dream and an angel. Her breasts are almost the size of my head and she is six-foot tall without heels. You would cream yourself."

I stood up to get a kink out of my leg. "I don't like that type."

Bella smiled at me. "Rose is blonde with blue eyes that make you want to tell her all your secrets. If her boyfriend hadn't of been so possessive, I would have willingly pleasured her every single day."

"Do you sleep with lots of women?" God, where is this coming from?

"No. Rosalie and Victoria are the only ones that I've ever been attracted to in my life. They are genderless in my eyes. Both of them prefer men."

"Rose taught me everything about burlesque, and I became a hit. I learned how to make men want me so bad that they were willing to do anything. I loved being the center of attention."

The water is getting cold so I lift her out. She clings to me as I towel dried her body and pull one of my blue t-shirts over her head. I hear her sigh as she slips under the sheets. I don't like hotel bedding, so I've had the maid put on a set I bought from the store.

I order Italian for dinner. Isabella argues but I soon learn she has a weakness for mushroom ravioli. I order the lasagna. We sit in silence while we wait for the meal. Isabella doesn't look my way or touch me. I decide to give her space.

The food is delicious. It has been so long since I have had something savory. Isabella picks at her food until I give her a look. She is tiny and needs to eat. A few extra pounds will not make her any less attractive. I tell her this and she seems pleased.

We are mindlessly watching something on the television when she turns to me. "I lied, Edward. I wasn't on my period. I had a miscarriage a few years ago and they had to give me an emergency hysterectomy. I'm...I'm barren. I can't have children."

"Whose was it?" I blurt out stupidly.

"A man named Vladimir. We had a fling in Moscow. I wasn't careful."

I kiss her exposed shoulder. "It's better this way. Life is cruel."

"Next time, you have to tell me about your life Edward Cullen," she says, yawning.

Images of the war bombard my memory: Rotting flesh. Children's limbs scattered in the desert. Mutilated women. The sounds of bullets whizzing past my ears and grenades. The cries of the dying. I do not want to add to her burden by telling her of all these horrific things.

"I'm a killer. I even killed my brother," I whisper. "He looked at me like I was his hero. I failed them all.."

Isabella puts her hand over my thundering heart and says, "There is always more to the story. You'll tell me when you're ready." I am strangely comforted by her words.

Later, she has a nightmare and begins crying. I crawl over, lift the t-shirt up to her stomach, and slowly enter her body. She immediately calms and watches me lazily while sucking her thumb. I roll my hips while humming a soothing song Esme used to sing to Riley when he was a baby.

Tonight, we are just two damaged souls in a coffin disguised as a bed.

DCM A/N: *gulps* Dark and twisted and hot all rolled together. These two break our hearts and leave us panting! *nods* Yes, gonna need more of these two DreamQuill, please write some more! Make sure to leave DQ some love.

Next week, well, we are working on someone authors. If you are interested, drop us a line! dirty cheeky monkeys at yahoo dot com