Hi, so this is my first attempt at putting out little figments of my imagination. I'm a bit wordy, love to laugh, and have a bit of a potty mouth. I look forward to taking this little adventure with you.
All in all, I plan for this to be between 5 and 6 chapters long.
(Edit: This story has been continued, and is no longer just a short story.)
Edit: Outfits for this chapter are available on my profile.
***Disclaimer:*** I don't own "Twilight" or any of its subsidiaries including but not limited to the characters involved in my little fanfic. I merely own the perverted thoughts I have in my brain and want to act it out for all of you.
"What's Lust Got to do With It?"
Chapter 1: Concupiscent Contemplations
Hmmmm, what would I call my infatuation with Emmett McCarty?
I wouldn't call it love at all. I know this because my heart does and always will belong to Edward Masen. I don't want to sound cliché, but upon seeing him the first time on campus, my heart began beating erratically and something told me that I'd be connected to him for as long as he would allow. From the first moment we locked eyes and he spoke to me, I knew that some cataclysmic forces had collided and we were spared this moment in time just for him and me- for us. With our first kiss, the whole normal "seeing sparks or fireworks" couldn't even compare. The kiss was so explosive and earth-shattering that it felt like a nuclear bomb was set off between us, and I knew with him was where I belonged. The exchanging of "I love you" each day only solidifies our connection because I still get the same giddy awkwardness, flooding warmth, and teary eyes that I felt the first time he spoke those three little words. Yes, Edward is the only man my heart will ever belong to for forever. He and I have been seeing one another exclusively for four years now-a personal best as far as my dating history is concerned. I love everything about Edward; no amount of this thing I have for Emmett will ever change that or what he means to me.
As I pace around the kitchen, I try to analyze my feelings more thoroughly. Of course, Emmett picks this opportune moment to arrive home from his workout, screwing up my thought process. As he's taking off his sweatshirt, the edge of his undershirt gathers upward, leaving his delicious treasure trail exposed to my viewing pleasure. Yum, look at that fucking body. I just want to lick him… a lot. He turns around catching me in my evident gaping and I blush profusely in embarrassment.
"Hey, Pinky," Emmett says, stating his favorite annoying nickname for my blushing tendencies. "Whatcha gonna cook us for lunch? After the strenuous effort I just put in at the gym, I'm starving."
GUH…strenuous efforts, Emmett working out, fu-uck me. I'll cook you up and eat you something proper if you'll let me.
I roll my eyes at him, playing out the charade I perfectly display, careful not to let my true desires for him shine through in this moment. "What makes you so sure I'm cooking for two?" I ask while quirking a brow.
He wiggles his eyebrows at me, smiling his dimple induced grin and practically takes my breath away. "You're on babysitter duty, remember?" he says, and he's right. I promised Rose I'd take good care of him during her and Edward's absence. A spontaneous business trip that their shared place of employment ,C & R Volterra, conveniently conjured up at the exact time that my desires for Emmett are reaching record-breaking levels. Shrugging my shoulders, I answer with evident sarcasm, "Well, we sure as hell want to keep the apartment, so I guess I am cooking. We don't want you to burn the place down, now do we?" He bends over at the hip, slapping at his knee in mock laughter at my not-so-subtle attempt on attacking his cooking skills. Sighing contently, I watch him settle himself into the recliner.
Even being in this predicament, I'm thankful to have him here. With my parents still in Phoenix, I have no one here in good 'ole Texas except for Edward, Rose, and Emmett. Edward agreed with Rose's suggestion and insisted Emmett and I keep one another company while they were away. If Edward knew the kind of company I want Emmett to keep me, he might not have been so inclined for the arranging of me a babysitter. Especially when said babysitter looks as amazing as Emmett.
So, is this what I'm feeling then? I only desire his body? Could it be true that my attraction for Em doesn't exceed past his physical attributes?
Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy Edward's body. He has always been my idea of male perfection. If I could bottle that shit up and label it "Ideal Specimen of the Fucking World," I'm almost positive that I'd become a millionaire overnight. Edward has a phenomenal physique from years of lacrosse and cross-country. His broad shoulders taper to a sculpted chest followed by deliciously chiseled abdominals. His legs are long and strong, holding up all the flawlessness that defines him. However, you can't mention Edward without mentioning his best feature, and that's his face. He is in one word, beautiful, with a huge side portion of DAMN HOT. The disarrayed, sex hair that he constantly dishevels with his talented fingers-- his fingers are so extraordinary, another top feature I assure you-- adorn his head. His eyes are alluring with their mysterious depths, so full of tranquility and fervor. They remind me of the days right before fall, just when the green leaves on the trees glow with brilliance as golden specks of sunshine play along their edges- so entrancing. Following is his succulent pout that houses his delectable tongue. Holy hell, the immense pleasure his mouth can bring me is inconceivable. Last but not least, his masculine jaw line is mouthwatering and usually sports a short stubble, only because he knows this is the way I love it. I live for the way it makes me shiver as he rubs his chin up my stomach, across my breast, and along my neck before taking me into a heated kiss every night.
Ummmm, remind me again why I'm thinking about Emmett when I get all of that?
As I resituate myself near the counter overlooking the living room, I take a more perceptive view of Emmett's body. Lounging in the lazy boy adjacent to the television, I notice that he and Edward's bodies differ vastly, but house a familiarity all the same. Then again, Emmett has an appeal all his own.
Ohhh yeah, THAT'S why I'm thinking about Emmett.
Scanning over his features, I start with the nutmeg-shaded, silken tendrils that cascade over his forehead and plaster the sides of his face, cutting off just above his ear. His curls, dampened by sweat from his latest gym excursion, give him an adorable boyish quality-- still, I find myself wanting to run my fingers through those lockets and scream his name. I continue down his face to see his enchanting, aquatic blue eyes. They always seem alive, dancing with amusement and enthusiasm. His lips are plump and beg to be kissed. As he repositions himself in the chair, I'm automatically drawn to how his sweat-soaked tank molds to his muscular frame more closely. With the garment hugging his well-developed chest, I suck in a large breath as I watch him take his hand and run it along his stomach smoothing out the wrinkles, perhaps to give me a better view of his post workout muscles. As his chest rises and falls with his steady breathing, I continue on my assessment of his frame. I journey over his forearms, soaking in their bulging size as they contract and flex while he strokes the arm rest on the chair. Back and forth, tantalizingly slow, he pushes his fingers up and down the length of the arm rest, running it along the hem of the chair, swirling around only to come back deliberately slower. Strokes forward, fingers up and down, swirl, strokes back , swirl, strokes forward…
As he continues with his assault on our furniture, I find myself getting hotter, wetter, and flustered with the idea of him touching himself in this exact manner. I better commit this shit to memory, you know, in case I'm ever allowed to touch his sure-to-be massive cock. My eyes instantly draw upward as he leans his gorgeous face in my direction. I lick my lips and instantly focus on his because they are moving and I can see his tongue darting in rapid succession just behind them. Rose says his tongue is magical, and I've always been curious as to a certain trick she raves about relentlessly, perhaps he'd be willing to show me.
I'm broken out of my little moment because Emmett is now waving his hand in my direction.
"Bella!" he nearly shouts with a questioning smirk. Hmmm, wonder what's up with the smirk, he couldn't possibly know what I was contemplating…could he? " I asked if you're okay back there?"
Rolling my eyes and giving myself a quick once-over, I look back up and answer, "Yeah, I think so. Why?"
"Nothing really, you just sounded like you were having a panic attack or something. You were panting so heavily I had to check and make sure some 300 lb. cop hadn't broken into our house after a three mile jog to find our hidden donuts," he says boisterously, snickering at the little image he must have conjured up.
"For your information, jackass, I um…I was working on breathing exercises," I retort with fake confidence. Right, like he'll believe that one. Good job there, fucktard!
To my utter amazement, Emmett bobs his head in resignation and returns to his previous position in the chair laughing at something the Sportscaster is saying.
Ahhh, yes, now where was I? That's right, I was assessing the extent of my fascination with Emmett? So, although I find his body very appealing, that isn't quite what has me so enthralled with him. Who am I kidding? I am completely aware that I'm more interested in what his body would feel like pressed against my body or insideof it, intertwining our limbs amongst twisted sheets, screams, and spoken desires. My intention to be near him is completely sexual.
Once again, I feel the need to state that Edward is more than magnificent in the bedroom. His ministrations are always deliberate, sensual, and exquisite. I love it when he makes love to me, but that is the complication- we only ever make love. Our sexual experiences are always unhurried, gentle, and sweet. He always takes his time on me, making sure the love he feels for me pours into his every action. I love this about him- about us. I love that he can make me feel so worthy and cherished, like I was put on this earth just for him. The orgasms Edward has brought me to are always… mind-blowing, and leave me more than satisfied at the end. Getting a release wasn't the problem at all, it is merely the act of making love that leaves me thirsting for more. I crave more, need more, just want FUCKING MORE. I mean, Edward never allows himself to get lost in the moment. And to be frank, I just want to be fucked senseless. I don't want any loving, caring, sharing bullshit, I want him to throw caution to the wind and ravage my body. I really just yearn for someone to plow into me with no inhibition.
Just fuck me. This is where my fantasies of Emmett come into play. Hearing Rose constantly chanting about their vicarious love life always leaves me aching to be fucked like her. Thinking back on a certain conversation we had, I grab my I-pod and relocate myself between the dual refrigerator doors for a few reasons. One, I am working myself up ridiculously and the fridge will help me cool down. Two, I need to figure out what I'm preparing for lunch. Three, if I stare at him any longer, I swear to all that's holy, I am going to attack his ass. Setting my I-pod to random play, I concentrate on the task at hand--making food for us and focusing further on my feelings for Emmett. I can't help but laugh at the song that sounds through my ear buds. The beat is new and has me sashaying my hips from left to right, bouncing my ass along with the words and Latino beat.
"One-two-three-four, Uno-do'-tres-cuatro, I know you want me--- You know I want cha--I know you want me-eeeeee, You know I want cha…" Pitbull's most recent song, "I Know You Want Me (Calle Ocho)" continues to play as I whirl around the kitchen, singing and dancing to the music. If only his lyrics could help me decipher things in my own life. I know I want Emmett- that is an understatement and pretty fucking apparent- but can't help but wonder if he feels the same for me?
Lust is defined as a passionate or overmastering desire or craving--or to have an intense sexual desire. I know this because I looked that shit up. So, this is what I'm experiencing, right?
Lust. This must be the permanent feeling I have for Emmett. Ever since Edward first introduced me to Rose and Emmett, I developed an innocent-or not so innocent- crush on him. Of course Edward is my soul mate, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. That being said, there is absolutely nothing wrong with lusting after a person. I will take this time that Edward is away to work through my feelings for Emmett. And perhaps, Emmett will use this time to workon me.
Hearing cabinets closing and Bella singing broke me out of my ESPN zone, which is not too fucking easy to do might I add. There aren't too many things that can drag my attention away from the television, but the possibility of a meal and Bella are two of them.
As I turn in the chair, focusing my eyes in the direction of the kitchen, my jaw nearly hits the damn floor. Oooh, shiiiiiiiiit! I'm in serious trouble. SOS!! Mayday, MAYDAY!!! This big ass ship is going down…or UP depending on how you view it!
I watch her and am momentarily stun as she dances around the kitchen, her brown hair falling in waves around her back and swirling over her shoulders while she parades her body around the tile floor. As she rocks her hips from side to side, I notice the way her jeans rest just below her pelvic bones. I'm instantly hit with a strong compulsion to simply run my fingertips from one side and slowly drag my hand across her pelvic region to circle the other. Unaware of my gawking, she does a twirl exposing her backside to me. Holy Shit! She is popping her ass in the most delicious way possible and arching her back towards me. I bet that would feel tremendous if she'd back her ass up like that in backwards cowgirl. I can't help the twitch her movements elicit from my now extremely hard Emmett Jr.
I feel as though I'm receiving my very own lap dance. I mean, yeah, it's from far away, but I'll take what I can get. I take perceptive notice of the way the light wash denim of her jeans cups her ass perfectly and hugs her long, seductive legs. The images of her wrapping those legs around my shoulders are interrupted because I finally notice what she's singing. As she spins around to face me, she grabs the counter and sways from one corner of the counter to the other, pushing her cleavage out the of her purple, low-cut tank top. As the Spanish lyrics spill from those perfectly luscious lips, I almost scream with the torment that is wrecking through my body. Something about hearing her use a foreign dialect makes me crave her enormously more. With her current activities causing her to take labored breaths, I watch as her chest heaves, leaving me breathless as well. My dick is straining to break free from its confinement, and my balls are aching for a release. Not now, Em, for Christ's sake; get a hold of your damn self. I'm instantly drawn to the luminous strip of skin that descends below her pants as she reaches her arms to the overhead cabinets. As the hem on her top rises with her efforts, I feel the need to tie myself to this chair because my desire for her is starting to cloud my judgment. Every muscle in my body is screaming for me to run to her, throw her on the counter, and take her as I have wanted to for so long now.
I remember back to the day Edward brought Bella to meet Rose and me. Drool probably leaked from my mouth as I mentally scolded myself for staring so zealously at my best friend's girl. I was immediately captivated by her "good daddy's girl" persona and the natural beauty she possessed.
Of course, Rose is exceptionally beautiful, delicious curves adorning her figure in all the perfect spots. With blond hair, honey brown eyes, ruby red lips, scrumptious hips, and legs for days, she embodies the essence of perfection. However, Rose is a siren in the bedroom andeverywhere else. She is large and in charge, practically oozing with sex and she knows it- especially with the countless fights I've been in over her seductive, flirtatious nature and the grabby, perverted men that gravitate towards her. I'm not saying I don't adore all those alluring qualities, it's just I want someone to be a little more subtle about their sexuality . You know that whole, "chic on the streets, freak in the sheets" type of chick. And, I could just tell Bella is like a sexy librarian-type girl. All quiet, shy, and innocent in person, but behind closed doors she wants it rough and tough, whips and handcuffs, good girl gone bad type if scenario. I crave the sensation of feeling Bella craddled in my arms while I fuck her with all the intentions of bringing us intense pleasure over and over again.
Rose knows all about my fascination with Bella, and at one point, even encouraged me to seek out a sex session or four with her. Most definitely, Rose is a sex goddess for even suggesting I could be with another woman. I'm extremely blessed to have her and plan to make her my wife eventually. But before I ever say my vows, I plan to make good on her offer, and have Bella as my own.
I'm broken out of my minute of reflection as I meet Bella's chocolaty brown gaze. It appears as though I'm caught, though I can't seem to care about it for even a second as I find myself charmingly smirking in her direction, topping it off with a little wink. Bella shyly drops her head, clearly uncomfortable that I've been watching her little display of moving far better than any Go-Go dancer I've ever seen. She steals a look at me through her long, curved lashes while biting her bottom lip, blood instantly pooling in her cheeks before she goes back to preparing our meal. I suppress a groan because she has never looked more delectable than she does at this very second. Down boy, it's time for damage control. I need to tell Bella about all the activities I have prepared for us this week, starting with ice cream and a walk tonight. I plan on taking her out and showing her bits about myself, letting her know all the different sides of me. Perhaps we can connect on a different level, and she would be more inclined to taking me up on my request. This week will either be one of passionate success or tormenting failure.
A few hours later, showered and shaven, twenty outfit changes, and a nearly broken toe, I find myself trying to calm my nerves before our date.
Wait, what? Date? No, this is simply an outing between two close friends. Yes, friends.
Friend you want to fuck! Friend whose name you want to scream as he pounds into you from behind. Friend you want to lick from head to toe. Friend you want to…
Damn, not helping here! Just. A. Friend.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, honey. It doesn't change a thing. I know what you want.
Okay, shut up. You are me, and we just have to keep our thoughts to ourselves. Fuck. Okay, I can- WE will- do this.
As I quiet my inner self, I put the finishing touches on my outfit. Deciding on casual sexy, I pull a few black bangles around my wrist to complete my ensemble. Evaluating my appearance in the mirror, I can't help but to feel giddy just thinking about Emmett and his possible perception of my outfit.
Will he find it sexy? Will it make him lust after me? Will it make him want to fuck me?
Hey, whoa now, thought you were just friends?
After a quick spray of perfume, I switch off my light and begin to search for Emmett. I walk in the family room to find him comfortably sitting in his favorite spot, the lazy boy. Taking in his appearance, I sigh deeply. He looks incredible, even in everyday wear. His aqua shirt manages to mold to his frame loosely, only highlighting his more pronounced muscles while enhancing his gorgeous eyes. I have yet to figure it out, but there is something about low-hanging cargo shorts that drive me mad. Probably because you know what lies just below the zipper. Good gracious, here I go again. I make a small cough to announce my presence and ask, "Hey good-looking, ready to go?"
The chair swirls and comes to an immediate halt. I watch skeptically as Emmett makes a low whistle as his eyes scan over me. Ducking my head under his scrutiny, I peer back up to find a sexy-as-hell Emmett walking in my direction, captivating me with his charisma. He strides directly up to me & grumbles something like, "Gonna fucking kill me," under his breath. Glancing back down, I finger my hair at the bottom, loosely running strand after strand through my fingertips and switch my feet back and forth. Under his elusive eyes, I'm uncertain about my final clothing choice. Does he think my outfit is slutty or sultry?
Startling me, Emmett claps abruptly, "You ready to go, kiddo?"
More than ready. "Yes, I just need to grab my purse." I turn around quickly and practically run off to get my purse that's laying on the floor next to the desk. I smile devilishly as a stroke of genius forms in my brain. Without bending at the knee, I lower my upper body towards the floor to scoop up my handbag, leaving my ass in perfect position for ogling.
I snicker as I hear Emmett cough loudly; obviously he must be receiving good view. Pulling upward in much the same fashion, I turn to sport my most seductive grin and beckon him forward with two fingers.
Shuffling forward awkwardly, head hanging low, I watch as red paints across his cheeks. Hmmm, now that's interesting. Emmett doesn't do awkward. Ever. Looking down at my black peep-toed heels, he questions, "Are you sure you want to walk?"
Extending my hand, I answer with, "Yes, let's get this show on the road."
A/N: That was the end of the first chapter. Reviews are wholly appreciated if you see fit.
A very big thank you goes out to my cyber wifey, Rhi (Live720) who sat with me through all the fingernail biting and hair pulling in gchat sessions of me making myself go crazy with anticipation.
Another big thank you goes out to my Mistress, SereneCaffeine, thanks for all your help, bb.
Both of these ladies have incredible fics, you should check them out.