A big thanks to sunflowerFran3759 who beta'd this chapter!

Chapter Two

First Position

"Welcome to Positions, Inc"

All I remember before hitting the floor were those four words that came from the pouty mouth of the curvy brunette who sported the red patent leather fuck- me- right- the- hell- now -and -be- lively- about- it- boots, whom I might add, was also holding that huge dildo.

I was still on my knees at this point, picking up the chattering, clit clamps or whatever the fuck they were supposed to be. At the sound of her sultry voice, my brain received a signal which then issued an all-points bulletin down south; and I felt my compass needle point north. The killer boots then inched closer to me, and I gulped as she bent over to assist. My eyes began to make the same ascent as the rest of me, and I nearly keeled over at the sight. If this is Heaven and I'm not already dead, then take me now Lord, I am ready to go, I prayed silently.

"Oh, here ... let me help you!"

Ungh, that velvety voice was going to be the death of me! A slender, white hand with crimson tips reached over to pluck the vibrating bubble pack out of my grasp. I felt my pulse quicken and my mouth went completely dry. I couldn't even muster a squeak out of it if I tried.

Aaand, that's when it happened.

Okay, I know you're dying to know what happened and I swear on my Eagle Scout badge (that I stole from my brother because I was too lazy to make it past Wolf Cub) that I'm going to tell you. But first you need to know something about me.

I have the worst luck with women. It's always been my problem.

It all started when I was thirteen and my parents decided to throw me my first boy and girl birthday party. My birthday falls on June 20th, which sucks royally. School is over for the summer, and all the good little students in Forks get the hell out and go to the beach, or visit a grandparent, or go anywhere that isn't here; to get them the hell out of this one bear town. I guess I bitched about it enough that Ole Esme finally took pity on me and decided to allow me to have a basement party a week early, "Provided you and your little friends don't rip, snort and tear down the place, Edward. And don't think I won't be down to check on you kids from time to time, because I will. Come morning I would still like to be called both a parent and a homeowner. And stay out of my laundry room; the last time I let you boys throw a party down there your little friend Jacob was jumping up and down on my dryer and I had to have it replaced. If he was mine he would have had his fanny warmed with my left foot." I smile at the memory; good ole Jake; he still one of my best buddies and I've missed his ass ever since he took off for parts unknown with his brother's girlfriend, Leah.

But that's a whole other story.

Anyway, I know I digress, but that's on account of the fact that I have Attention Deficit Disorder or some shit like that. It comes and goes but I never had to take drugs for it or anything because I had the benefit of Esme's foot, re-directing my attention when it started to drift.

Where was I?

Oh yes, my thirteenth birthday party.

Well, to begin with it was Friday the thirteenth. Now, that right there should have been a sign that there was gonna be a problem. Anyway, my brothers had the cellar all decked out in this really awesome Goosebumps theme; remember Goosebumps? Man, I was so into those books, even if I did struggle a little with the words. Did I mention that I have Dyslexia? Well I do, just a tad. I mean it's not so bad that I can't read or go to college. I do attend Dartmouth and all. Of course that's because I have a genius IQ and I am a fourth generation legacy.

But that's another story.

Anyway, the party was going great. The guys were having a blast trying to pin their tails on the girls, and no one was jumping on Esme's dryer. After my mother stopped pimping her chicken fingers and nacho supremes, Emmett came downstairs and suggested that we all play a little game. Naturally we expected he would bring out Monopoly or, if we were lucky, his PlayStation. But he didn't. Instead he set a bottle of my Dad's Chivas in the middle of the floor and we played spin the bottle. I was as nervous as a bedbug in June because I never kissed any girl other than Ole Esme before in my life. Since it was my birthday, I went first. The bottle landed on Jessica See-My-Tits-Bounce Stanley. I was totally down with that, because Jessica had been sporting these size triple D cups since the fourth grade, and all the guys fantasized about those babies. I leaned over to kiss her; she smelled like bubble gum and Doritos. I pressed my lips against her and felt her kiss them back. It was really good. I was surprised, even her nacho-gum flavored breath tasted good. So good in fact that I got a little carried away and decided to put my tongue in there to see what would happened.

What happened was that Jessica's gum soon found its way into my mouth and then down my throat. Of course, that's when I choked on it; like really choked on it. My father (Ole Carlisle See-my-License-Plate-I'm-a-doctor) had to come flying downstairs with his medical bag and he had to do the Heimlich maneuver and God knows what all. It was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me. And to top it all off, my brothers never let me forget about it and neither does Ole Esme, who still doesn't allow gum in the house. "If your breath needs freshening, Edward, go brush your teeth." Frickin teeth and Esme, the woman should have been a dentist; she's obsessed with keeping them clean.

Needless to say I didn't kiss another girl for two years following that event. Not that they wanted to kiss me anyway, what with me throwing up after the Heimlich maneuver and all.

But, yeah, that's another story.

Anyway, I'm telling you all this to illustrate my bad luck with women. And honestly, it didn't get any better after that either. Now that's not to say that it's been all bad and there haven't been any girls in my life, because that would be a bold-faced lie; I mean, I'm not a bad looking guy and chicks seem to dig me. The problem is; all the girls I've been with have the same thing in common; they're virgins. And worse, they intend to stay that way.

"No Edward, just, no. You can put the tip in if you want, but that's as far as it goes." That was Angela. Her father was a minster.

"No, Edward …we can do everything but. And that includes the butt." That was Lauren. Her mother was a catholic.

"No Edward, I really want to, but I don't want to get pregnant." That was Shelly. Her sister got knocked up when she was seventeen.

Then I went off to Dartmouth two years ago. After a few weeks to get my bearings, I finally met the girl of my dreams.

Tanya …

"Oh Edward, yes, yes, yes! No, no, no-WAIT! I don't think I want to do it after all. I think I might be a lesbian." She turned out to be right and has been dating Irina ever since.

As I said … worse luck with women, ever.

So this is why it shouldn't have been a surprise when the curvy, brunette in the long, red, patent leather don't- bother- to- turn- down- the- covers- just-fuck- me- against- the- wall- boots, ankle twisted and everything suddenly took a turn for the worse.

"Ooof!" she yelped as she tripped over the same damn box that I did , and fell hard, right on top of me.

Yeaaah ... that should have been something out of a young, horny guy's dreams I know; believe me I know. And it was… until her stiletto heel made contact with the inside of my thigh and missed piercing my balls by a fraction of an inch.

I let out a scream like a forty year old woman at a Twilight Marathon. Mother of all fuck-did that hurt! My hands started flailing about as I tried in vain to right both myself and her, but it was too late: she face planted right into my armpit. I grabbed the back of her neck, like the hapless ass that I am, and my fraternity ring got caught in her hair (which wasn't the first time that ever happened; shocker there.) When I tried to remove it, her hair came off along with it. I let out an even higher pitched scream and then something, like maybe a huge-ass spider, fell in my mouth. I spat it out before I choked on it; horrific visions of Jessica's gum swirling in my head. I gave it a tentative glance and heaved a sigh of relief …whew … NOT a spider, thank God. Nope, it was a set of false eyelashes. Well part of a set; the other part was hanging off her left eye like a bat ready to take flight. I let out a shudder ... this chick was scary.

I looked down frantically at the long, brunette tresses in my hand and prayed to God I wasn't going to have to rush her ass down to Forks Memorial so Ole Carlisle could reattach her damn scalp and make medical science. It looked fairly benign (as in I didn't see any flesh mixed in with it) so I gave it a good shake to free it from my ring. It worked, and the hair went flying half way across the room like a banshee, and landed on an empty coat rack. I stifled a scream when I realized that it was some kind of a wig, or a hair piece.

Ole Esme has a fake thing like that too; she likes to put it in hair to change it up a bit from time to time. Emmett likes to fool around with it and he sometimes puts it under his armpit and walks around the house with it asking everybody if they think he needs to shave. Yeah, Ole Esme isn't at all amused by Emmett's antics. "I paid thirty-five dollars for that hair piece at Sally's, Emmett. So unless you want to replace it with your allowance and have me practice my new triple-threat kick, then I strongly you suggest you remove it from your sweaty armpit right now, and return it to my dresser. And go brush your teeth; your breath could use some freshening."

I looked up when I felt a rumble emitting from 'red boots'. I fully expected it to be the sound of laughter, since it was pretty fucking hilarious and all. But to my utter horror it was quite the opposite; this girl wasn't laughing. No… she was full on bawling, and I watched in amazement as the false lash, bat thing, finally took flight and then plummeted to the floor.

"Oh my God … I 'm so sorry! I knew this was a bad idea! I only tried on this stupid stuff because well, the UPS man delivered it all today and I started opening up the boxes and I figured if I was ever gonna be able to know what the hell I'm supposed to be selling then I'd better have a little experience with sampling the goods. But I don't know what I'm doing, and now look! My hair went flying, you've been assaulted by these, fuck- me- now- or- I'm- going- to- blow- boots, and then my fake eyelashes ended up in your mouth and on the floor! I knew I never should have trusted Renee with my inheritance after my father died, but I did because I'm one Dumb Dora when it comes to my mother. She kept telling me, Oh Bella, there's never been a sex shop or anything even remotely close to even being sexy in Old Forks. And with the economy gone bust, there isn't anything better for folks to do than to just say, well, fuck it, I'm poor, so I might as well fuck.

"I tried to tell her that I didn't think nipple clamps and clit stimulators were going to be marketable in this shit- hole town, but does this woman ever listen to me? No. And to top it all off she left me high and dry last week when she ran off with some ball player named Phil.

But that's another story.

And now look-here I am on the floor with Ole green eyes, whose balls, I mean testicles, I'm sorry I don't mean to be vulgar, were almost severed with a heel that could serve as an ice pick, for crying out loud. And to make matters worse I can't even get up because this enormous dildo just punctured my water bra and it'll look like I'm lactating or something. And I want it to go on record that I am decidedly NOT lactating, thank you very much, because I'm not pregnant, not even close.

What I am is a fake and a fraud and one Stupid Sally who doesn't know Jack Shit or any of his brothers. I'm the daughter of a flake-who drifts from one town to the next, on a damn whim, so I've never had a real boyfriend, let alone sex!"

Never had sex?

What the actual fuck?

I let out a sigh at her verbal diarrhea…

I've been duped by a virgin in a pair of red patent leather don't- bother- to- take- me- out- to- dinner- since- I'll- just- be- dining- on- your- cock- boots.

As I said …

Worst luck with women.

Ever.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who gave this a whirl or a nod. I hope you continue to enjoy this silly little story as much as I am writing it. For those who thought it was going to be a Sub-Dom thing … well … no, sorry to disappoint. But there will be plenty of fun times ahead for these two crazy kids, so why not stick around and see if Bella can help Edward find a good position after all?

Jayne xo!