We don't own Twilight...we merely play and screw shit up in their perfect little world.
We do own the blue plot bunny with green eyes called Alsper. :D
Kirmit/Chocolatebrowneyes-Robs!- Bitchice: Hmmm…one night Kristin and I were talking and maybe it's coz we were slap happy as hell out comes this story. In all it's random and out of leftfield glory. Kristin throws wicked curveballs and I'm here to pull the rug from under you. Please let us know what you think! Give us some, we'll give you some you feel me?
Calin: (Kristin… a.k.a. dicksper) Okay, so thanks for checking this little gem of a story out. We totally were silly off our ass really late one night and Robs was like "dood we need to do a story" so you have this! Enjoy it, and I totally recommend that you look up the songs and listen to them if you don't know them! Oh and Tell us you're favorite line when you click review! And we might be a tease and give some love in return… yes I'm a review hoor… ::wink::
We both wanna thank Kelsi our superawesome little beta lady!
Playlist suggestions: "Dark Blue" - No Doubt
Chapter One. My (Not So) Dream Guy.
Sunlight. It's a good thing, helps plants with photosynthesis and whatnot. But fuck, my head throbbed when the sunlight filtered in between my eyelids. Crap, I was hung over. How much did I drink? I couldn't remember. I twisted my body away from the light and could feel the blanket slip down. A cool breeze hit my breasts and torso, suddenly causing gooseflesh and my eyes to snap open. I was fucking naked! It also hadn't escaped my attention that I wasn't covered up by my blanket, and was pretty sure that the sheets weren't satin. I closed my eyes and moved my body a little, causing another throb of pain in my head. Nope, standard cotton. Holy Fuck!
My eyes snapped open again when I heard deep breathing come from beside me on the bed. I racked my brain trying to remember what had happened last night, but to no avail. The last thing I remembered was everyone buying me shots when my gem of a brother, Edward, told the bartender that it was my twenty-first birthday. Apparently, he had let me go home with a random stranger as well. Thanks Eddie, I'll remember this until the day I die.
Fuck, I thought, I gotta get home. I sat up at my usual lightening speed causing my head to throb. I groaned and grabbed my head with my hands. It fucking hurt and made my stomach ache.
Curiosity got the better of me and as soon as the pain had subsided a bit, I braved a look at my bed partner. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him. He laid on his stomach, the tan blanket drawn up to his waist, and his obviously dyed black hair covering the side of his face so I couldn't see it. But at least from the body I could tell that part fit into my "type" of guy. I didn't need to be bumpin' uglies with an ugly, drunk or not.
He stirred slightly in his sleep and his back muscles rippled. I stared slack jawed at it for a second before regaining control of my thoughts. To gain a sense of where I was I took a look around what I was assuming was his room. Unlike a lot of rooms, the bed wasn't the main focal point. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be something he kind of threw in at the last minute. Pushed off to the side, the floor had clothes in random piles and papers littered nearly every surface. The wall behind the bed was covered with album covers, making for interesting wall art. The wall with two doors, I'm assuming a closet and then the exit, was covered with band posters several were signed, including one Garth Brooks poster, which I thought was interesting considering what else it was hanging with. Rob Zombie was to its right and Breaking Benjamin was to the left. Obviously, he liked music.
The main part of the room had an old green armchair surrounded by seven different guitars, placed carefully in stands and a keyboard nicely set to the side. It was the only part of the room that was clean. That wall was wallpapered in sheet music, it was fascinating. He was a musician. A real one; one who truly lived for his music. That was such a turn on. I was half tempted to wake the guy up just to fuck his brains out one more time, but I had a class that afternoon. Damning my luck, I started to look around to see if I could spot my clothes. I found my bra on the nightstand next to me, on the green lampshade. Below the lamp laid several opened condom wrappers. Letting curiosity getting the best of me again, I counted them, seven. So either he never cleans that shit up or I got him off seven times last night.
Fuck yeah! I thought, fist pumping mentally. I grabbed the bra and put it on, trying not to move too quickly so I wouldn't get the headache again.
I saw my purse on the floor at the end of the bed so I carefully left the bed, trying not to disturb my bedmate. I held my head for another minute after getting off the bed. I was standing and it made my head throb. As soon as the pain subsided, I scanned the floor looking for my panties and dress. I found my dress pretty quickly. I put it on carefully, trying desperately to stave off the throbs of pain I would get anytime my head moved. My very expensive panties were no where to be seen. Where the hell did they go?
I looked up wondering if maybe he had a chandelier, Hugh Hefner style. Nope, no chandelier. Only a fan, and no, the panties weren't up there. I made my way over to my purse and sat carefully on my knees, looking through the dirty boy's clothing to hopefully find my panties.
I pulled up a pair of Diesel jeans. Nice taste, I thought, then grimaced realizing that this was what the jackass was wearing last night. The hypocritical, superficial bastard.
My brother had found out about an open mic night at a local bar, so he signed me up. I have what they call a seductive singing voice, and my brother wants to market it because that is what he does. It was my twenty-first birthday so I could get in and, in turn, he told me he'd buy me some drinks. I got there and was one of the first to do their thing. I chose to cover 'Dark Blue' by No Doubt because that song is seriously sexy. I always think of dark blue satin sheets whenever I hear it. I started to sing and locked eyes with a guy with fuck-tastic eyes.
They were blue with incredible green starbursts in the center. The guys face was pretty nice as well. He smirked his full kissable lips, as I sang to him. My siren song, I swear to Christ, it seemed to pull him to me. Drawing him out of the crowd. When I was done, I started to walk towards my brother when the jackass bumped into and spilled beer on me. Then, he didn't even apologize! He just laughed, so I yelled at him and informed him that he owed me ninety bucks to replace the shoes. He didn't seem to appreciate that and got angry. He called me a spoiled rich bitch and told me to go have my daddy pay for some new ones. I almost punched him for that one. I looked him up and down. He had that whole grunge look that was fast becoming popular, but I could tell he wore all designers, hell, his shirt cost more than my entire outfit. I called him a hypocrite before turning and leaving him in the dust.
I shook my head, trying to forget the memory and continued my search. After having no luck finding my panties, I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone, 7:00 am the screen showed. I sighed, I definitely wasn't late. I noticed I had nine texts messages so I opened my cell and checked them, they were all from Edward. The last one stated that the cops had told him I needed to be missing for 24 hours before they would look for me. I texted back letting him know that I was fine, but that I had no idea where I was. I walked slowly to the bedroom window while holding my head the entire time, it was throbbing in pain with every step I took. I looked out the window to see if I recognized anything. It was a corner house, Elm and 7th. I texted the info to my brother and he texted back letting me know that he was leaving the office to come get me.
I sighed, and turned to look at the face of the guy I had copious amounts of sex with last night. When I realized I dropped my phone. Fuck. Shit. It was the hypocritical asshole!
Images started to flood my brain. I shifted through them, trying to comprehend how I ended up fucking the shit out of the bastard. The memories were in snippets, some long, some only flickers of what happened. They were all fuzzy like I was watching them in analog and reeling like some old movie.
We were drunk beyond belief, at least I was. The bartender got a cab and the bouncer forced the two of us in it. I tried to stay on my side of the cab, but he came over to me smelling my hair. I breathed him in. The scent was kind of spicy and musky with just a hint of tobacco. It was such a turn on. I looked up at those full lips and kissed him, hard. His tongue begged for access into my mouth, so I let it in, greeting it with my own. His hands groped me wildly, pulling me onto him so that I was straddling him. Once we got to the house he pulled me out of the cab with him, I was giggling at this point. Totally unaware of my surroundings, just caught up in him.
When we got in the house he took me into the kitchen and got us some water, I wanted his attention, so I sat on the table that was in the middle of the room and spread my legs just as he turned around. He choked a bit on the water and closed the space between us, attacking my lips with his again, grinding himself into my soaked panties. I moaned into his mouth and he smirked devilishly at me, his hands slipping under my dress. His fingers snaked themselves around the delicate straps, yanking down rather roughly. Wetness started to pool just thinking about it. Stop it! I thought.
The panties disappeared as he pushed my legs up at the knee and bent down, burying his face in my crotch, licking my entrance and making me moan. He worked his tongue and licked my clit in circles, his hands gripping hard on my thighs to keep them open. I moaned, my hands tangling themselves in his soft, unruly hair. It felt good, too good, the memory caused a tightening in my stomach. He stopped suddenly and growled a little in frustration, pulling me off the table and half-dragging me towards the stairs. Stopping once we got there and turned to kiss me, I threw my arms and legs around him. I felt his arousal pressing into my now naked crotch. I ground myself a little causing him to stumble and fall backwards as we were making our way up the stairs.
We got to the bedroom door and he pushed it open, puling us in and closing it after him with a thud. I felt the back of the door against my ass as he pulled my dress up, grinding himself into me and panting a little into my mouth. I broke our kiss so I could moan and he moved his lips to the hallow at the base of my ear, sucking and nibbling as he groped one of my perky breasts and my naked ass. My hands made their way down to his belt buckle and I undid his pants, his breathing caught a little.
I grinned like the awesome little seductress I was feeling like and slid slowly down the door, taking his pants down with me. He groaned and held himself up against the door with his hands. He groaned and held himself up against the door with his hands, lust clouded his half lidded bloodshot eyes. I looked to where he was packing his heat and noticed he was wearing blue boxers. Like a present wrapped in my favorite color, I had thought.
I gasped at that memory and almost fell over.
I reached my hand into his boxers, pulled out his tool and while maintaining eye contact with him, slid my mouth around it. Moving my head up and down as best as I could while my hand pumped the part of his shaft my mouth couldn't cover and sucking. I hadn't really ever done it before, but shit I'd seen pornos and heard about it from my friends. It seemed to be having the appropriate effect, he white knuckled one of the panels on the door and his hips kept bucking a little. It was an erotic image, I tried going down even farther and moaned a little. He responded by groaning into the door and bucking as he came into my mouth. Keeping in mind what a friend had once told me, "try not to taste it and just fucking swallow." I did just that. I did end up tasting a little bit, but it wasn't that bad. It was actually sweeter than I had heard it described.
I leaned against the windowsill and almost cried. I felt like a whore. Then I remembered I rode the fucking cowboy first on the chair. Him pumping deep and hard into me as his fingers dug into my sides and sucking on my neck. My head thrown back as I moaned loudly. From there he bent me over the side of his bed, pounding into me and acting like a caveman. I sank to the floor and stared into his angelic looking face. Holy Fucking Batcrap Batman!
Him stripping me of my dress and bra, playing with my breasts like a fifteen year old. Kissing, sucking, rubbing, just straight up fucking. Me clawing the fuck out of his back as he repeatedly thrust his large manhood in and out of me. Him moaning and coming over and over. He seemed unsatisfied that I wasn't having an orgasm, he kept working it, changing positions, fingers digging into my hips, sucking on my collarbone, my neck, my jaw, my ears. For a complete asshole he was really fucking good, but then he did something kind of odd for a random hook up in my opinion. He asked me to say his name when I came and looked into my eyes with his blue-green bloodshot ones. The look, it will forever be burned into my brain, was completely earnest.
How the fuck did I not remember? Oh my fucking God. I moaned his name, what was his name. I racked my brain, I don't remember asking, but a image complete with sound flooded into my brain. "Jasper." He panted quietly in a southern accent, as he pounded into me. Jasper… I thought. I fucking said it out loud too. Holy crap. He stirred a little, but didn't move. I sighed a little in relief and grabbing my things escaped from his room. I fled the house just as my older brother pulled up in his car. I jumped in and ignored his inquisitive look.
"Alice, did you have fun last night?" Edward asked, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. I looked at him a moment before responding.
"I can't remember." I lied fairly smoothly. It was the partial truth, I couldn't remember, much.
"Well," He started trying to fight the smile that was peaking through his face. "You need to look at your self in the mirror." He flipped down the visor and opened the mirror for me. I gasped when I looked at myself. My lips were unusually puffy and red, like they were chapped. I licked them instinctively and smiled a little when I realized that I could still taste him, and he tasted as good as I had remembered. My face looked fairly clear, a little smudged mascara, and my hair was messy, but that wasn't so bad. What was horrific was the giant welts that peppered various areas on my neck, my jaw, my collarbone, I even had one on my shoulder. What the fuck. Vamp out much, fucker? I thought. Hickies, great. Fabulous, I get to go to class looking like a two cent whore. Nice.