Disclaimer: I don't own Bella, or Carlisle, or muffins. I do, however, own Ms. Dimov, and she likes it that way.
A/N - The following was inspired by an actual hot neighbor and real muffins, neither of which are mine. The very OOC characterization of Bella is based on the lucky bitch who does in fact get to claim the scantily-clothed man meat and the muffins. Said lucky bitch would also like it noted that she did NOT actually fuck the guy. Its a work of fiction folks.Thanks for the inspiration Tasha!!
An extra special thanks to my rockin' beta Lillie Cullen. You're all kinds of awesome girl. All. Kinds.
Oh...And if the word "fuck" offends...you should stop reading now.
I watched through my window as my neighbor walked to the end of his driveway to pickup his morning paper.
In his fucking boxers.
Was it not enough that I was alone, Edward having taken off to some medical convention leaving me by myself in this house with nothing but my over active imagination and an under clothed new neighbor?
But now I had to watch him strut all slow like and sexy down the long strip of concrete like it wasn't twenty degrees outside. In nothing but luscious grey boxers. They would go perfectly with my bedroom carpet.
Carlisle. His name was Carlisle, I learned from the gossipy bitch two doors down who had trouble keeping anything to herself, including cat shit. Her damn house-full-of-crazy cats would crap all over the neighborhood. Ms. Dimov watched everything and yeah, she was watching him, but she could dream on. Because he was watching me.
He smirked, and I twitched, down there, and suddenly had the urge to make muffins. Not just any muffins, but fuck me muffins.
I stirred the batter slowly, thinking back to the events that turned my predictable, boring life upside down with a side of fucked up. It all started 3 days ago when the moving truck pulled up, and a hot piece of man meat started unpacking his boxes of shit, and leather sofa and king sized fucking bed. Like what single man needs a king sized bed? One who plans to use it, that's who. Use all of it. I knew he was single 'cause crazy cat lady already had the low-down on his status from the realtor before the ink dried on his papers.
He saw me watching him heave his boxes up the walkway, and knew I was watching. He glanced over at my window now and then with those gorgeous fucking eyes and shook his ass a little more than was necessary. This torture went on for hours.
The next morning I happened to be looking out the window at the precise moment he went out to get his mail and newspaper. Ok, so I was stalking the yum, but whatever. He comes out in his jammie bottoms, and no shirt all strutting his muscled perfect chest in the balmy New England winter weather like it was nothing. Like he was so hot he didn't need clothes. Which was true. I was stalking… I mean looking discreetly out the window, but obviously it wasn't discreet enough cause Mr. Yum picked up his paper then turned and winked at me. Gah fuck.
I was caught, and I didn't care. I closed the window and walked away trying to pretend I didn't want to run to the fridge and pull out a fucking cucumber and take care of business.
After a while I figured it was time I got my mail and paper and after putting on my best cleavage shirt and tightest fucking pants I owned, I made my way to the front door , swinging it open and stopping dead in my tracks. There on my door was a note.
Staring isn't nice. Come get to know me.
Yeah, he really put the fucking squiggly next to his name. And left his number. But all I could see was the word come.
So I did what any self respecting, married woman whose husband was out of town would do. I brought him muffins. Fresh baked blueberry muffins with butter, 'cause I'm lame like that. And I really wanted him to eat my muffin. I left them on his door step. Crazy, stupid, but I couldn't help it.
A couple hours later I opened my door and there was the plate. Clean, with a note that said:
And that's when my panties exploded.
So here I stood, about to make fuck me muffins for the man meat next door who just upped the ante by parading outside in his underwear. Fucking sexy underwear at that. Bedroom carpet underwear.
I made banana muffins; seemed appropriate. I piled them on a plate with a scoop of butter, and walked to the door, stopping to check my hair on the way out. Which was lame. And pathetic. I was just going to drop the muffins on his doorstep and come right back. He would never see me.
I made my way across the lawn and up to his door glancing over my shoulder to make sure crazy-cat-lady wasn't lurking about.
I stopped to set the muffins down when I heard the door knob turn.
The door swung open and man- meat stood there wearing nothing but those grey fucking boxers and a smirk.
"What did you bring me for breakfast today?"
Tits. And a side of clit.
" Banana Muffins." I plastered on my best do-me-now smile offering the plate to him and using my upper arms to push my tits together as I held the plate out in front of me
" Banana huh?" He raised an eyebrow, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.
He stepped aside holding the door open wider and gestured with his hand "Would you like to come in?"
Hell yes. Fuck no. Shit Shit Shit.
I stood there like a moron staring at him with his smirk and his bedroom carpet boxers, wanting to go in, but needing to walk away.
He reached out and grabbed the plate, but I didn't let go, so he pulled me, plate and all through his door, closing it behind me.
As soon as the door closed, his hands left the plate, dropping to my hips and pushing me firmly against the door.
The plate was still between us, pressed against our chests. His face was inches from mine, smirking and staring. His head dropped down to inhale deeply.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm" he moaned, and my knees went weak." These smell delicious."
"You went through all this trouble," his hand reached up and grabbed a muffin off the plate "I must insist you stay and share them with me."
He held the muffin between our faces, and oh so slowly took a bite. His mouth worked the bite of who-cares-what diligently, moving in circles first one way and then the other. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, or any better he slides his tongue out to catch a crumb that's clinging to the corner of his mouth.
My eyes twitch to that tongue and he smiles because he knows he has me then.
Fuck that. I can have him too. I lean my face forward and wrap my lips around that muffin , slowly sinking my teeth in and taking a big bite. And his eyes get all big he groans a little bit and I think Yeah buddy, two can play at that game.
So I chew all slow like, and swallow and notice the way his eyes dart to my throat then back to my lips.
And then he does it. He inches forward, and uses that hot wet tongue of his to lick the crumbs off my lower lip, and then sucks it into his mouth, capturing it gently with his teeth and pulling back slightly to look at me with those fuck-me eyes and give me that panty dropping smirk again while still holding my lip in his teeth. He was a cocky bastard. And I love cocky bastards.
He lets go and lowers his head to take another bite of the fucking muffin, only now its all crumbly and he has to use his tongue to sweep around it and get all the pieces. Twice. Fuck. Me.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back and fucking moaned and grunted like his cock was in my mouth. Instead of my muffin being in his.
And I just watched him with my mouth hanging open and my crotch on fire, and imagined 101 ways I could make him make those same noises. With and without my muffin in his mouth.
He still had his eyes closed and was moaning and grunting and I couldn't take it anymore, I had to taste him. He looked so fucking good, I just wanted to eat him. I leaned my face forward and touched the tip of my tongue to his chest. He stopped his fucking moaning and gasped as I bit into him. Not hard, but hard enough to shut him the hell up. And make him fucking whimper. He loved that shit. Gah Fuck. He pressed his body into me, grinding his hard cock against my hand and the muffins now smashed between us. And it was fucking huge. And I had to have it.
I crashed our lips together, grabbing fistfuls off his thick blond hair as I dropped the muffins and wrapped my legs around his waist. He grabbed my hips roughly, locking my legs around him, and carried me to the couch where he set me, pushing me deeply into the cushions, and kneeling in front of me. His hands slid up my skirt, and tugged frantically at my soaking wet panties, pulling them down my legs and off as he growled. Then he pushed my knees apart, and drove his tongue straight into me. I arched my back, and grabbed fistfuls of hair and shoved his face into my pussy as far as I could. He lapped at me hungrily, moaning and panting and eating me like a fucking pro. That man could work his tongue. I worshiped that tongue. I wanted to write love letters to that tongue. I screamed and arched and pleaded and he wrapped his arms around my legs burying his face even deeper. He licked me until I forgot why I wasn't supposed to be there, or why I even came in the first place. Then he pushed his long, pale fingers into me and I lost it. I came violently, thrashing and screaming and begging for more. And he loved it. He smiled and moaned against me as I bucked into him and then came down from the best fucking orgasm ever. And I'd had a few.
When he lifted his head from me, and smirked with his mouth all glistening and wet , his eyes met mine and he winked. That did it. It was my turn.
I pulled him up roughly by his shoulders, standing him in front of me, bringing me face to face with his glorious cock. He was erect and ready, straining against the thin silky boxers. I reached around to give his ass a squeeze with my hands before grabbing the silk and roughly yanking the boxers down his legs. I thought they would look good on my carpet, but they looked much better on his.
He was big…fucking huge. Absolutely perfect. I squeezed him firmly before taking the tip between my lips. His hands shot to the back of my head, fisting into my hair as he plunged himself into my mouth. He tasted delicious. His head fell back and he cried out as I worked his cock with everything I had, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking greedily.
He pumped a few more times into my mouth before pulling out, panting and huffing and out of breath. He looked down at me with hooded eyes.
"Strip," he ordered, and I did because I needed him to touch me again, to fuck me.
I stood up pulling off my shirt and unclasping my bra, and his hands shot right to my tits, kneading them roughly, and running his thumbs across my hard nipples.
I grabbed my skirt, and his fingers wrapped around my wrist.
"Not that," he smirked at me.
He pulled me to him again, kissing me deeply and our tongues battled for control. His hand fisted into my hair, spinning me around and pushing me toward the floor. We kneeled on the floor, him behind me, grinding his delicious cock into my ass making me moan and press back into him.
With one sweep of his arm, he cleared off the coffee table that was covered with who-cares-what, and bent me over it. He kneeled behind me, slapping his cock against my ass. He was teasing me, and if he didn't get on with it, I might just rip it off and take it the fuck home with me.
Finally, he plowed into me with one stroke, and we moaned together. He slid in and out slowly at first, still with that damn teasing, then began to pick up rhythm. Before long he was slamming into me, rocking the table and giving me one hell of a rug burn on my knees. He grabbed on to my skirt bunched up around my waist, holding on to it and using it to pull my hips against him, thrusting deeper and harder.
He fucked me long and hard, and I knew I would be feeling it for days. I didn't care. It was fan-fuckin-tastic!
And just when I thought I couldn't possibly take anymore, he reached around, and pinched my clit roughly between his warm fingers and I exploded again, coming even harder this time, as he ground into me deeply and did the same. We held there for a moment just moaning and squirming together as our spasms died down and we caught our breath.
He gave my ass a final smack before getting up, and putting his sexy-ass boxers back on. I re-dressed quickly, and he walked me to the door.
"So…" he said as I opened the door, and when I turned to him, he was wearing that cocky smirk again. "What kind of muffins are you making tomorrow?"
A/N - Reviews are better than fuck me muffins.