Viola Cornuta! You're the LOML! I am ACORN, but you remain a BAC. And I adore you when you GI. Oh yeah, thanks for the prevent-nup! YBYSA, I love you.
Disclaimer: Mine, Mine, Mine! Okay, some of it's hers.
Huge thanks and my forever love to RowanMoon, Viola Cornuta, and BellaStjerne for their help in multiple languages!
~~Eyes will roll…the return of Pedanticward and Sassbella. It's important to remember, this is but a parody ;)~~
Bella tried to backpedal.
"I'm too young to get married," she exclaimed in the morning.
"Well, love, I'm not," I countered, smirking and pulling her back over me, massaging her ass and wondering how long I'd have to wait to get back in that tight hot hole.
She muttered a soft, "Trufax."
Both my eyebrows rose as did my hands, clasping her shoulders, "You're only as young as you feel, Bella," I cajoled against that impressionable divot just below her earlobe.
Shrinking away, she eyed me up and down causing me to preen just a bit as the sheet slipped away with her, "What does that mean? Are you calling me old?"
What the devil?
"No! I… it's just one of those asinine clichés. I didn't think through what I was saying, I'm sorry," mentally, I smacked myself. This was what happened when I spoke in an unpremeditated manner.
"Oh, well," she huffed and settled back to my chest. "I don't want to turn out like Renee." I winced and cringed and pulled a few hairs loose from the crown of my luxuriously bronze-tressed head because that put a new spin on things. "That makes two of us, love!" Ew, and Hell No! That was a sandwich that put me off blood to even contemplate!
Compassionately, I rubbed Bella's bare back and simpered against the lovely temptation of her collarbone, "You're nothing like your mother, lover. This has nowt to do with her mistakes, only our timeless, fathomless, endless and incomparable love."
For three weeks Bella hemmed and hawed, chewed and chawed while I paced and clawed at my hair. Yes and then no. No and then yes. I had a severe and near-crippling case of emotional whiplash.
In the end I sweetened the deal with a new car for my darling and one for myself on a job well done. Matching Mercedes, his and hers. The elegant, understated vehicles were so much more appropriate than monogrammed towels. It went without saying hers was missile resistant, as she was a typical female driver. I supposed, actually, her tank of a truck had really been a godsend in its indestructible hulkishness.
Kissing me deeply and pushing me to the hood, with my submission, Bella suitably thanked me on her shiny new auto. I thought I heard a small, shushed exhalation when she caressed the metallic finish of the car and then my cock of the same high gloss, "Bout damn time."
"Will you be mine?"
When she finally capitulated, it went without saying all that was mine would also belong to her. There were certain mores with which I was raised. Bella, however, had other ideas and demanded a prenuptial agreement.
The issue of a pre-nup almost became a prevent-nup. Deciding financial matters in the event of the death of a partner sent me into a dépression nerveuse of epic proportions, because it ultimately dawned on me Bella would die some day if I didn't avert it! How could I have been so misguided and foolish as to give my heart to a human with no backup strategy? At the very least, Bella was aging by the minute! I drove Alice mad with my desire for our future laid out unambiguously. Who did I have to blow to get an HEA after all this drama?
It took every ounce of vampire dazzle I had to convince Bella to accept a suitable portion of my wealth outright. She soothed herself by watching CNBC's "Squawk Box" each afternoon with her back turned toward us all, laptop open, to monitor her portfolio.
Responsibly, we waited until she graduated, and then another three months until Bella celebrated her nineteenth birthday, which threw me into another tizzy as time leaked by. For Bella, it was a milestone. For me it was at least the thankful end of a Cavalier-threatening era; au revoir Invisalign! My cochon en croute had been dangerously close to permanent damage -- vampire nature notwithstanding -- more than I cared to remember.
I timed our nuptials and subsequent honeymoon so as not to coincide with her menses as that would lay waste to all my months of planning. It was easy math for me.
The preparation of such a grand affair was nearly seamless due to my multitasking prowess…aside from the music. I'd imagined Clair de Lune to be a given, until Bella, in the throes of what could only be assigned to raging premenstrual tension, rounded on me, "Clair de Lune is not fucking great, Edward!"
My eyes widened in surprise, and my face blanched ghoulishly pale, "What?" I struggled to understand what she meant.
"Oh Hell, Edward. You decide. Either I said, 'Clair de Lune is less than first rate' or, 'That fucking song is beginning to grate.' Think of it as a choose your own adventure. Either way, the outcome is the same."
Wait, what? Did she say cum? Fuck. What?
I sighed heavily and then retaliated the only way I knew, "You do understand, love, choose your own ending books are not classified as real literature, right?"
Bella said something under her breath and stomped from the room leaving me with her last viperish utterance, "Shake Ya Ass would be much more fitting."
Hmmm, that had promise.
The day of our wedding dawned as every other three hundred and sixty-four Forks days; gray, damp, cloudy.
The weather couldn't put a pout on my mouth. In four hours, Bella Swan was to become Mrs. Edward Cullen!
I peacocked and strolled the garden while her appearance was made acceptable.
A popinjay, I sat to my Baby Grand, replacing the strains Debussy with my own composition I liked to call Etude in loneliness to love, the fruition of a vampire made man, replete and no longer alone, made whole and masculine with purpose by the mortal woman of his dreams. I started playing a good twelve minutes before her processional was to commence. The piercing melody would take a quarter of an hour and less than half my talented concentration to complete.
Still running my skilled fingers over the keys, I turned when the talk behind me quieted.
Here she was. My bride. Oh thank God, her dress wasn't puce or even in the green family!
I pulsed over the last notes of my dedication and sauntered to the altar to watch Bella's approach.
Simply sheathed in a charming pale gray-blue wash of satin, Bella was as stunning as she was when naked, or wearing those beribboned panties with lacy mesh scantily hiding her breasts.
Thankfully, Alice had planned ahead, ordering a couture robe de marriage. Was it any wonder we were deux pois dans une cosse?
Jasper held the Good Book open in his hands and looked to me. "Ladies first, of course," I gallantly pressed.
Bella's vows were succinct and over quickly, perhaps even chary; most unlike her powerful endless orgasms and her detailed instructions to me in order I should aptly bring her to climax. I would have shed a tear had I an ounce of liquid besides venom to give; instead I held her fey hand in mine and imagined her trouncing my cock at the first opportunity as my Missus.
There was a resounding shuffle of feet and an echo of one hundred sighs when I cleared my throat, unnecessarily. I took that as a good sign.
Modifying my simple vows spur of the moment from what we'd agreed to, I carried on for more than five minutes. I did have rather a lot to say. Halfway through I was interrupted by stifled yawns and perhaps a snore? all of which I chalked up to human fatigue and restlessness.
As I continued, I must have misread the pursing of Bella's lips that seemed to fashion, "What an epic unending soliloquy. Perhaps your mouth would be better put to a monologue, more aptly, MY Vagina Monologue."
As we were in the middle of our connubial ceremony, I had no opportunity to question her.
My ring to her finger and hers to mine completed our dynasty in the making. My lips cantering carnally against Bella's -- my wife! -- joined the circle of our love and lust!
I choked back a tearless sob – Her ass was legally MINE, MINE, MINE!
Outside, under the enormous tent, over the parquet floor, Bella and I were called to the center for our first dance.
Mother bugger! Bella's choice? Shake Ya Ass, by Mystikal! Well, I'd asked for it. But, hell! If I thought about Bella shaking that curvy ass against me at this moment, I might just give way to my savage tendencies right here and now. Copulation in public was on the table, but not at our wedding reception, dammit!
Bella sashayed to me, her finger hooked and pulling me to her like a magnet. She smoothed her hands down her hips and planted her feet in the high strappy heels exactly a shoulder's width apart. I was pleased with her formulaic lines.
Her eyes lowered as did her hips. All the way to the floor.
Fuck! I could feel her hot breath against my crotch – Was she going to give me dry job right here? Surely not!
Laughter boomed around us, my smile turned into a very hungry grin when she rolled back up to her full height. I grabbed her waist and brought her flush to me, "Bella, you know I'm already dead, love. No need to try to kill me tonight in front of everyone."
Settling my palms to her shaking ass, I moved her across my erection. Unbelievably everyone clapped – did they think they were getting a free show tonight? Charlie, however, gaped like one of his trout; the man had a gift for fishy impersonation.
"Tu me rends fou," I gasped against her smiling lips. And she was making me completely crazy.
Bella mumbled, "The feeling's mutual, I assure you."
She gyrated up and down the thigh I braced between her legs. I slid the sumptuous raw silk up from her ankles above her knees until her garter was exposed for all to see. Bending her back, I hushed into her neck, "Je veux te fourrer."
Oh Jesus, did I ever want to fuck Bella!
Shit, did she just shake her booty at me?
Fuck me, when had the slang term booty infiltrated my pristine vocabulary?
She was going to be the death of all my gentlemanly impulses.
Bella spun around, pulled what looked like fifty pins from her hair and undulated down to the floor, swaying all the way. It was all I could do to withhold myself from swatting that sensational rear, round and fine in the satiny icy blue glove.
I stole her back to me for a kiss at her nape and a clasp to the pillowy undersides of her heaving breasts before the next song started.
My choice? Shakira's Hips Don't Lie. To set the mood for our secret destination honeymoon. Attraction, perfection, I can see you're body moving.
I never really knew that she could dance like this
She makes a man want to speak Spanish,
Como se llama, bonita, mi casa, su casa
Bella swiveled all around me, and I began to think this was a really bad idea! Trumpet, drums, and her hips?
I bit my lip and frowned. I bent down and pulled her legs over my waist as she lingually meshed out the lyrics:
Oh baby when you talk like that
You make a woman go mad
So be wise and keep on
Reading the signs of my body
And I'm on tonight
You know my hips don't lie
And I'm starting to feel it's right
All the attraction, the tension
Don't you see baby, this is perfection.
Her maracas moved against me and almost all of her cleavage was bared, completely untamed and really fucking hot.
Pushing my hand up the ruched fabric of her gown, I grabbed Bella's ass and growled.
Dipping her so her mahogany locks swept the floor, I stilled her hips and her breasts with my hands flattened to her body.
Applause melted around us.
It was time to go.
Rice beat us like hail, and I wondered what asshole had imagined that trite tradition. Teeny pink welts were raised on Bella's shoulders, and I simply didn't want anything marring the radiant cream of her skin.
Ushering her past well-wishers who wanted to linger, I placed her in my new Merc, and we made for the airport.
This was what we all wanted, or most importantly, me; ten parts wedding and one thousand three hundred and ninety-nine parts honeymoon.
Realizing the error of my ways in not taking full advantage of the semi-privacy of Target's dressing rooms, I'd fashioned a plan for our induction into the Mile High Club. It went without saying, but I reiterated to myself anyway; only because we were in First Class. Certainly not in Coach! That would be tantamount to fucking in a one-stop-shop.
My shudder of distaste nudged Bella's arm resting next to mine in the cushy seats of the airplane's posh upperclass cabin, causing a dribble of sparkling bubbly to spill onto the back of her hand, which brought to mind my own pale foutre dripping over her fingers.
Bella smacked a bubble and lifted her glass again.
Champagne with mint gum? I shivered again.
It couldn't be. Bella was chewing gum?
"Bella-love, are you… chewing gum?"
Nodding, sighing, she set her glass aside with the possible mumble of, "Not even off the ground and HWGA."
Reprovingly I mentioned, "You just got rid of your teeth straighteners; you know that will mess up the perfect placement of your bite, love. Additionally, it's without question an insult to an entirely adequate cava to mix it with Carefree Sugarless."
Her lips curled in an unattractive manner, "Fuck's sake, should I call you Dad or Pops?"
"But my ears will pop!"
Oh my little peepee popper. "Bella, I have plans that should assist with your popping problem."
Mutely, I held out my hand for her to plop the slimy vivid green into my palm. Discreetly, I folded it into the vomit bag.
"So, husband, this proposal of yours?" Bella looked at me expectantly.
I tangled my long instrumental fingers into her wavy locks and brought her ear slowly to my lips, blaming the rumble of the plane's engines throttling for take-off for what sounded like Bella's grumble, "AFDN." "I think it's high time we discovered the joys of public congress, Bella."
Just as I was about to nuzzle the exquisitely trembling pulse below her lobe, my lover pulled away, "In plain English?"
Over her pursed mouth I breathed, "The Mile High Club."
From one corner of her lips to the other, I dazed her into breathlessness, tempted to pull down the oxygen mask and check her vitals. Thank goodness Bella recovered when I released her mouth, a crooked half-grin-smirk lifting my thoroughly kissed mouth. Leaning her head against the chair she whispered, "Oh, Edward! TMHC!"
TMHC? A bright light finally shone! Leet speak? I preferred to type complete words when texting but had heard of this phenomenon, another travesty of the 21st century.
So, AFDN? It took but less than a second for me to figure that one out: Any Fucking Day Now. And then, HWGA? Here We Go Again? Surely not!
Her body began to radiate the heat I so enjoyed and the antiseptic air filled with the bouquet of her aroused fragrance so I ignored her sassyremarks. Wanting her nice and wet and ready before we hit the cubicle, I made my voice low as dark velvet and bombarded her with French phrases, hoping to drown out the cipher slang as I nibbled her chin, her lovely collarbone, her gasping lips, "J'ai envie de toi desperatement. Je veux te prendres dans mes bras et denais ton parfum."
With the ding of the seatbelts sign shutting off, I ushered Bella to the lavatory. Squeezing in behind her, I locked the door.
Quietly giggling, Bella bit her lip. It looked so tasty I snacked lightly on it myself. She retaliated and gnawed on mine and the frisson of her tiny incisors on my impermeable skin was an explosion igniting me.
I bumped my elbow against the elfish sink while lowering her pretty fig colored thong to the floor, making sure it didn't touch the germy wasteland beneath our feet. Running my long fingers like liquid up her inner thighs, I met a most pleasant surprise…Bella was soaking wet! There'd be no need for the travel sized bottle of lube I'd picked up during a clandestine trip to Target – that abomination to my classically trained senses was beginning to grow on me like an unhealthy fungus. Doing a silent congratulatory dance that my intentionwas going according to design,I accordioned my digits in and out of her, once again thrilling at her nether bouche sans bush.
No olive toned knickers, total saturation, and a waxed pussy…Fuck! I loved Mrs. Cullen!
I stood up and mashed my mouth to hers roughly, and her little tiny hands opened my buckle, button and zipper hastily.
A bright pupil, Bella could now studiously swallow my cock in various stances, but no matter my speedy geometry, there was no way she'd be able to DT me in this WC, much to my dismay.
Smoothing the ridges on my forehead as well as the veiny topping over hard-soft flesh of my cock all the way up the ruffle of my foreskin, tamping down the toxin sliding out, Bella demanded, "Bring that BANANA over here."
"I prefer the term blette, love, if we must get down to it," I rehashed for the millionth time.
"Getting down to it, YES, let's already!"
Sucking her nipples through the part I'd made in her blouse, I queried, "What, love?"
"Fuck me now, Edward, I'm so ready." Bella wrapped her legs around my hips and held her cunt an inch and two tenths away from my cock.
If we were going to join The Mile High Club, we were going to do it right.
"Wait," I pleaded, feeling the fire of her body so close to my own subzero dick, widening my stance, swiping two paper towels from the dispenser and placing them on the microscopic counter before setting Bella's ass down.
All the while I figured the rising altitude in my head, plunging closer and closer to her copiously damp recess with each foot ascended.
At precisely five thousand two hundred and eighty feet, I lunged into Bella's core! Everything in the little room shook with my force, but I mused on her breasts that bounced about beautifully.
Blue chemically water sloshed around the toilet, determined to be a mood killer, but I wouldn't have that.
Maintaining my pace, I belted into her in time with each of her epithets, "Fuck. Yes. More. Don't Stop!"
I could hardly stop, the unreckoned turbulence was throwing me into Bella at an alarming tempo!
Groaning, hissing, howling, growling and cussing, I accomplished a great feat of acrobatics: juggling her tits, stroking her sumptuous bottom to ensure it never touched anunsanitary surface, I even managed to languidly circle her clitoris with my nail while I nailed her in a contortionist's testament to my paranormal dexterity and strength.
If only I could get her into the right position to hit her g-spot. Alas, even I had to admit defeat sometimes.
The thin air was supposed to heighten Bella's response. The lack of O2 meant I couldn't very well beg her to keep her eyes focused and non-rolly, or ask her to scream my name loud and clear, but a nice, long unintelligible climax flourished through her, and I myself came in six or seven ceaseless ropey spurts of thick, creamy -- chunky? -- semen-like substance.
I pulled out of Bella, supporting her against the shaking of the plane and put our clothing in order just as a nasally voiced air hostess requested over the speaker, "Please return to your seats."
In the nick of time, our marriage was consummated.
Unbeknownst to Bella, we were approaching Isle Esme. It was no Lesbos, and mores the pity, because girl-on-girl, Sappho, a threesome, me and Bella and someone else in an orgy of bacchanalian proportions! That shit was hot.
But it was secluded, a necessary ingredient for the further fruition of my campaign, and muggy enough that Bella's irritating habit of chattering her teeth when my icicle of a cock was inside of her – that definitely got in the way of her ability to pronounce clearly while I fucked her – would cease.
Tilling the wheel, tending the sails, out on the open Pacific, I vowed that one day my wife would have an entire country named after her, if only I could figure out which nation to usurp.
Bella placed a fragile hand upon mine, upon the wheel, and smoothed my knuckles, "What's wrong, Edward?"
"Oh, nothing, my love. Just thinking."
"Yes, dear, you do that a lot."
As if she'd requested me to continue my train of thought aloud, "Not long ago I couldn't find my own arse with a flashlight and a map, and a compass. Now look what I have before me! There's so much I want to show you, give to you, my lovely Mrs. Cullen."
I watched a gorgeous blush spread like a watercolor stain over Bella's chest and visage; the warmth of her blood never ceased to call to me, as a man and a vampire.
"Naturellement, mon cavelier. Maintenant heure de monter vers le haut."
I let go of the spinnaker and gawped at my wife, "Bella! You spoke la langue francaise!"
"You don't know everything about me, Edward," Bella smiled up at me while I unraveled her statement. Apparently not, because of her malfunctioning mind. She'd just stated, in one of my favorite languages, "Of course, my cavalier. Now it's time to mount up."
The island neared off the bow, the dying light glittering against the bay and creating a mesmerizing golden orange backdrop to the small outcrop in the middle of the sea.
As we approached the dock, Bella was appositely appreciative of the setting and the vacation home before us, "Oh, it's stunning, Edward."
Leaping to the jetty, I lifted her out, "I don't mean to be a bear, my love, but I'd prefer it if at times you'd call me husband, or even Mr. Cullen." Master or sir would work too, JS.
Rearing back, Bella raised an eyebrow.
"You know, to drive home our marital status, of course, darling."
She maintained her arched brow.
"Uh, and, oh! Master or sir? I was just kidding.
"Besides, Mrs. Cullen, what I really wanted to say was architecture concretizes our existential space, while nature illumines our spiritual waste."
She rolled her eyes.
Maybe I'd over done it? She knew how much I hated her rolling her pretty doe-brown eyes.
But then she laughed and skipped down the planks. Meeting the beach she shoved off her sandals and kicked up flawless white sand into billowing clouds.
She really was a treasure. And mine, mine, mine for the pleasure!
Thank fuck I hadn't said that aloud.
Hoping she'd put the time to good use and slather the strawberry perfumed body lotion on every available surface, I granted Bella a human moment to her toilette while I did a few thousand laps around the cove.
My second port of call? The placid turquoise waters of the ocean and Bella's walls around my member.
Standing in the still water, the current slowing down, I felt her displacement in modest rippling waves that broke against my implacable ass.
I smelled strawberries and other, more tropical, fruit.
Sniffing again, there was even the tincture of Bella's sluicing sensuality.
I turned to her, pleased by her nudity and the glimmer of the dusk over her high spherical breasts and down to her dipped-in waist. Her nipples puckered and turned a deeper, sexier persimmon couleur the longer I observed.
My John Thomas bounced against Bella's thigh, and I was not going to mess about with foreplay. Smushing her tits together, I gained two nipples for the price of one – I thought that was very fucking economical; the trustees of Target would be proud of me! – and suckled them between the edges of my teeth, mouthing them with my lips. Grabbing ass, clenching hair, sucking hard, I worked my way into my wife, stopping briefly at the hilt so she could adjust and gasp and remember to breathe.
The imposing length and girth of my cock winding in and slowing out set up a new flow to the ocean. Miniature tsunamis brought seafoam to the shore.
I encased her back and pushed down on her bottom, crowded her breasts to my chest, and eyeballed her ecstatic face whilst listening for her exhalations.
Prompting Bella, I snarled, "Fuck, yes, baby! You're so wet! So hot and tight and blazing and tight. Promise me you'll never change!"
Bella reined up, licked my ear and scraped her teeth to my jaw, "Well, I'm only human, Mr. Cullen."
Shit! She was right! Anything could happen. Why must I think of this now? Bella was aging. FUCK!
I tuned out my inner speech enough to finish my erogenous work. Focusing on the here and now, I congratulated myself on a fine choice of venue for our honeymoon one more time. With the ocean licking all around us, there was no need for lubricant yet again! In fact, I could barely keep hold of my squirmy mermaid.
Especially when the sharks started circling.
They smelled dinner! What the fuck? Was I not the most frightening predator of the food chain? Was I not scary or vampire enough?
This was almost worse than coming to terms with the preposterous idea my ejaculate was not the ambrosia of gods.
As if she could hear my thoughts, the maid appeared on the beach to lay out towels and call, "Le puedo ofrecer algo más, Don Eduardo?"
I shook my head as I ran to the shoreline, stating, "Eso es todo, gracias, María Concepción." We needed no more interference tonight.
Wrapping us up in a cocoon of fluffy terry cloth, we adjourned to the cottage. My cock was near purple with starvation.
My arm beneath her knees, I cradled Bella and carried her bridal style to our suite for nothing less would suit The Mrs. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.
I couldn't have been more pleased with the décor of the boudoir. There was even a fainting couch, which I measured minutely with a narrowing of my eyes, acknowledging it to be the right height to bend Bella over and reenact our anal experience.
"Would you look at that confidante, Mrs. Cullen?" I placed Bella on the bed heaped in white and pale brown linens echoing the mirage outside the patio door.
She pulled her hair back, raising her breasts so they teased my pontificating mouth, and slid her legs open to my dick, "GOYHH, my cavalier."
Groaning into her mouth, I formed the words for her texty acronym: Get off your high horse? Shit! I was going to ride her so hard she'd be beseeching for my Cav into the next century, as soon as I could change her into a vampire!
Splaying her ivory legs, making a mental note to cover them in SPF 50 sunscreen tomorrow, I dipped to her juncture. Waxed, plucked, shaved, denuded, Bella's plote was pure heaven.
Hooded and yearning, my eyes met hers, "Tu goute aussi doux que de mile."
Testing her, I slipped my tongue flat and straight from her opening to her clit, and FUCK!, she really did taste as good as honey.
Bella fisted my hair nearly hurtfully and shoved me into her pelvis, "Just shut up and give me a DWPKOTL!"
I played Bella like a baby grand. The dunes of her flesh wet to the lap of my tongue. Deep wet passionate kiss on the lips was what she wanted and that's what I gave her, French kissing her cunt until her thighs were jumping against the stronghold of my forearms.
Damn Straight, She'd Said That Outloud!
I assuaged my exasperation at her declarations by sinking my preternatural langue in and out of her at a furious speed.
The nerve, the audacity.
Too pent up to attempt anymore Kama Sutra gymnastics, I settled for the missionary position.
Her hips in my hands and the pillow in my bared teeth, I came within five charges, ripping the down to shreds and shuttling eight or nine streams of cool jism into Bella while she pluffed plumage from her face in her cataclysmic orgasm. The scream I'd waited for in a language I could get behind wholeheartedly curled from her throat, "Tu est un bon coup!"
YES!!! "You're a great fuck too Bella-love, darling wife, Mrs. Cullen!"
She slept amongst the feathery plumes, while I happily inspected her nubile naked body for all the suck marks and fingerprints our love making had caused. The sharp pointed quills reminding me of my pen and ink well, my secretaire and heavy stock stationery back home, making a mockery of cellphones and texting. Before I knew it, the sun had risen, and it was time to rouse my wife with the promise of breakfast.
A flare detonated within my groin as she joined me in the kitchen, indiscreetly adjusting her brassiere and tucking her nipples in to the webbed pale gray lace. The hue of early spring poppies, her nipples propped up, stretching the mesh that sequestered her tits.
Bye bye sports bras, and about goddamn time too!
She licked her lips and devoured the stiffness growing inside my khaki shorts, "Mmmm, yes, I do love huevos, husband dear."
My God! If I didn't know better, I would've inferred Bella was commenting on my testicles with that vulgar Spanish word!
Cheekily, I replied, "Flan?" All the while remembering the fluid flavor of her flange.
Bella nibbled my lips in a most saucy manner, "Are you being coy with me, Sir?"
I gasped and came far too close to dropping the eggs I'd been juggling to the tiled floor!
Sir, Master…yes! My happy jig was back full force.
After breakfast, reclined into the heated dusty sprinkles of the bright white sand, I watched with drooping lusting eyes as my wife came to me. Settling beside me, she massaged SPF 50+ sunscreen into her ivory skin, making my fingers itch to replace her own. Fully coquettish, Bella blushed and asked me if I was enjoying the scenery.
"Indeed, my love. I was just appreciating the way your bikini accentuates your charming assets. You did a fine job picking out-"
She squirted another handful of cream onto her palm, and my cock twitched excitedly. "Baby, just tell it like it is."
"Alright then. Mrs. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, you're smoking hot!"
A few minutes later, Bella was pacing a small path into the dune next to our blanket, "I'm so hot, Edward!"
Perhaps the heat was frying her brain. I recapped, "Yes, Bella, you're most definitely on fire." In that string bikini that rested so tastefully on the slim fragile skin of her hips, a cute bow nestled between her breasts… I'd checked the label earlier… Lucky Brand. Yeah, she was absolutely going to get lucky later, especially as the teeny bikini clearly wasn't a purchase from Target!
She halted and stomped her foot dangerously close to my head, "Dammit, Edward, it's not for nothing you brought me to this tropical island, was it?"
"Well, I just thought… free vacation?"
"Do I need to text it to you?"
Sweat was glistening in Bella's cleavage, little drops were slipping down her taut belly to her beveled navel. She puffed a tangle of hair off her forehead. Oh. OH! I was a Bella's personal air conditioning unit, and she wanted to cuddle!
"Come here, love. Let me cool you down," Bella sat pleasantly in my lap, thereby heating me up.
I mopped up her perspiration with my hands and my tongue, pulled the triangular scraps of fabric down both tits. Tugging sharply at her nipples, I asked, "More comfortable?"
Below Bella's bellow, I heard feet shifting on the beach. Shit. The maid was coming to us with a fan, the cord leaving a snakish shape in the sand. Quickly covering Bella's bosom with my body, I imperially dismissed María Concepción with a flick of my wrist and a firm, "Puede retirarse."
Receptive to my core curriculum for our honeymoon – I would endeavor to get my dick in her derriere as many times as possible, so had furtively given this trip a sobriquet: The Heineymoon -- my Bella-love even had a few suggestions of her own. The hammock seemed unnecessarily precarious; who knew she was such a thrill seeker? Hell, if she was game, so was I!
Lying on the rocking netting strung between two tall palms, I raised my wife's posterior up over my cock. Sliding her onto me, I jumped at the scorching contact, almost plummeting us to the ground! Undaunted, Bella pressed on my shoulders and rode me with abandon, jostling the swing from side to side while the timbers groaned, and the webbing began to slice open beneath my back!
Fuck! This wasn't going to work, I should have known better than to go outside my set syllabus.
Redoubling my effort, I took Bella to the beach. She gained control of situation, and I allowed her to lead. Splaying my thighs, she settled between them, lapping up my muscles and silently asking me to raise my ass off the ground. I did as requested, hearing a little, "Oh, yes. I can't wait to rim you again."
I elevated to my elbows and quirked an eyebrow.
"What, darling husband? I just mentioned that we never did get around to listening to Rimsky Korsakov."
Then her incinerating tongue was at my ass, and I fell back with a duststorm clouding around us!
When my cock was humongously swelled, and the entire southern region of my body thoroughly wet with her saliva, Bella sat back, a self-satisfied smile playing over her puffy mouth.
Suddenly, particles of sharp sand were sticking to my bum. Fuck! I was already buffed to a high sheen, and this was not the type of friction I needed.
Figuring, through a series of rapid formulas, I was lubricated enough by her ministrations to have a go at her rear, I turned the tables and lifted her to her hands and knees. Salving the scratches and welts raised on her sensitive skin with my numbing toxin straight from my mouth, I licked and sucked Bella's silky pussy and her nether button-hole… I was not to be stopped by Mother Nature or any of her dastardly doings.
Bella's head fell forward to the hilled soil where she hushed, "You're so FINE, Edward."
Pushing, tenderly and slowly as possible, into her cul, I deciphered the latest acronym. Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, Emotional? I breached the final distance of her hot clamp and shook with restraint; that had to be a mistake!
"Feels so good! So Hot, so wet and tight!" I watched my shaft wind in and out of her dumpling ass and had no control as I slapped one round flushed cheek.
With what I thought was a tender tap.
"Geez, FUCK! Encule. That hurt!"
My dick was stationery, my hand soothed the rising mark on her pretty globe, my mind worked over time…she did not just call me arsehole, did she?
"Sorry, love. I was a tad over eager. And I heard that some women like a bit of slap and tickle."
Over her shoulder where diamonds of sand twinkled under beating sunrays, Bella disciplined, "And here I thought you were such a WOG. Maybe we should get Jasper to give you a little love tap sometime, eh? See how much you like that."
Wise Old Guy? Wait, Jasper? Where had that come from? My God! Had Bella been contemplating a three-way? With my own brother? Srsly?
Her ass clenched, and my cock was screaming to carry on. Her labias, both Majora and Minora, were wet against my gonads.
Pulling off me and then pushing back onto me with a supremely erotic circle of her hips, Bella informed me, "Sensual slap, Master. Erogenous, not punitive."
Yes, I could do this, especially when she called me Master.
I rallied and sallied forth into her dear derriere and softened my blow to a mere smarting, arousing tap, all the while demanding hoarsely, "BOHICA, baby."
"Oh yes, holy crow, fuck yes, Oh My God, Bend over here it comes again? Unh, Edward, I love it when you sext me!"
I slapped her lightly again and then caressed the stamp of my palm on her flesh… really? Apparently so. When I reached around to circle her clitoris, Bella's folds were literally pooling with dripping natural arousal. Arrivedercilubricant.
"Cum with me, Bella!"
"HWGA, A! Aaahhhhh, Edward-husband!" Bella screamed all the right words, and I moaned through an intense, jerking, broiling orgasm that waved up through me like the frothy ocean at our feet.
The following week and five days, twelve hours and forty-seven minutes, were an oasis of sexual escapades, here there and everywhere; fellatio, cunnilingus, and an abundance of Graphenberger action.
Not to mention eggs. I was still reeling that Bella-love-wife could ingest the milky viscous runny unctuous globs with delight and ease while she yet balked at my own surely honeyed essence!
As well as the obliteration of several more feather pillows, one mattress and a fair few headboards until María Concepción singlemindedly and singlehandedly -- at the very least she had a strong work ethic – removed all but the necessary furniture from the cottage with a fulminating, "Bendito Dios! ... como destrozó la cabecera de la cama, hay plumas por doquier, engendro del demonio acabó la casa!"
I took offense to her rampage against the disaster I reaped while making love to Bella, not to mention her calling me a demonic monster. I was a well-bred young vampire enjoying a much deserved hieneymoon with his wife!
She left the premises with a, "Para que más soy buena?" Followed by muttering, "Sanguijuela chupasangre".
Blood sucking leech? That was nearly the last straw.
Bella in an endless array of expensively revealing lingerie soothed the insult. But our evenings of frivolity and fucking were always replaced by recurring nightmares, "Stop, Edward! DON'T!...GO."
Thank goodness she finally remembered to end her demand properly, though her syntax seemed a bit off.
In two days we were due back mainland.
Bella was getting ballsy and brazen. She sat in the middle of the bed wearing a short midnight lace confection that hardly withheld her sweet tits from overflowing the filigreed cups, watching me disrobe.
Regally, she commanded, "Bring that flappy thing over here."
I stalled with my shorts hobbling my ankles, my hands on my hips, my flappy thing rigid and pointing straight at her. Silently, I stroked my cock, making sure to pull the foreskin tight up over the head before running the slack skin all the way back down to the base.
She merely raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Bella made my venom boil when she dared me like this. I darted my tongue to my bottom lip, she struck back by scissoring her teeth into her own lower plump lip and tossing her chestnut tresses back.
"You know my cock is not just a flappy thing, love."
"Oh, I know. It's a Cavalier, a hoodie, a turtleneck, a cochon en croute, a lovely long thick passementiere. Your cock is tassled and bedecked and big and beautiful and decorated with… foreskin. Not one bit sans prepuce."
Goddamn! She dazzled me.
"Otherwise known as Rumpelstiltskin and a pig in a blanket!" Bella giggled and flushed a gorgeous shade of sunset pink.
I frowned and stole nearer the bed. Leaning over her until her giggles died out, I tutored her one more time, "That's a slander to all Romantic Languages, lovely wife. I think you mean, un pli de peau couvrant le bout du pénis."
Her wee fingers ticked my nipples up into precise engorgement, a mirroring swelling filled my shaft with another ripple of poison. I groaned and cupped her face. She kissed me long and deep, passionately, wetly, before pulling back, "What was that about the Roundheads versus the Cavaliers, darling?"
Standing straight, I released her and turned on my heel. Trapped with my shorts still at my ankles, I nearly stumbled. I yanked off the offending outerwear and pinched my nose with a pace-pace-pace combined with hair grabbing and moaning-groaning.
Bella folded her arms behind her head, rumpling her sexy hair, raising the minute skirt of her negligee. "Are you sorely vexed, Edward?"
Hell, now she was talking my language! "No, love, I'd say what I'm feeling is more akin to provoked."
"Holy Crow. Lighten up, Edward."
Another flinty glower-cum-stare found my wife sort of apologizing, "Oh, right. I suppose it's hard to lighten up when you're an immoveable mass of stone. Wait! So why is it you can actually float on water?"
My glare narrowed, "Just think of me as Moses, love." I smiled at the thought.
"And here I always imagined you to have a God Complex."
I frowned, "What was that?"
"God! You're so fucking complex."
Now I knew she was taunting me.
Her smart mouth was arousing and never more so than when those plump pretty impudent lips were wrapped around my swelling reddening head.
She crooked her exquisite finger and beckoned me to her side. She motioned me to sit on the edge of the bed and sank to her knees on the floor. Blowing up and down my sorely tested dick, I shook as another dribble of cum blipped up out of the little mouth centered in the head.
All of my venom was concentrated in thick pulsing ribbons of veins that lashed up and down my cock. Bella sucked and licked every single one. Ignoring my engorged almost exploding bright carmine head!
"Bella, please stop toying with my caballeros!"
"You know, your speech is a bit outmoded, baby. And you're such an SME."
I tapped my cock against her lips; I'd show her a Subject Matter Expert, and she opened with these words lilting like flames over the tough ridge and crushed velvet skin of the most vulnerable area just below the rim, "Of course, Sir, you were born at the turn of the previous century."
She pursed those fucking splendid lips right over me, sucking down not even to the pucker and pleat that had me almost crying in need for her taste! Her tongue swiped a kiss from my leaking top, and she pulled away to lollipop me from top to bottom, still avoiding swallowing my head and touching the creased, crumpled chenille flesh that trembled with desire!
I smoothed the back of her head gently and bit the air with a clash of my teeth.
Bella lipped my burgeoning bursting head temptingly again, "Baby, you want me to quit teasing your junk?"
"Please, yes, please. Just give it a KWSTA!"
Bella took as much as she could, in that position, into her mouth, binding both hands in a pumping action around the space of my cock she couldn't cover with her kiss with serious tongue action. Saliva dripped all over me as she bobbed up and down thrice before coming up for air, "AYC, husband." Her lips were swollen over the words: Aren't You Clever.
Oh shit! Who'd have thought dirty text lingo could be so hot?
I growled and she… RAWR'ed right back at me.
The woman was far too affriolante for her own good.
Hastily trawling Bella up my body so every single sweltering bit of her squashed against me from tits to tummy, pussy to thighs, I laid us side by side and dropped low, skating the surface of her bouche with my erection. I held her head in my hands so she couldn't look away. I skimmed against her two more times and then glided up through her pussy with a languorous revolution of my cock and pelvis.
One leg over my hip, her breasts suctioning to my chest, our abdomens meeting and parting, I reeled away and spun back in, in the slowest most maddening motion known to man or vampire.
Our harsh breathing bracketed the muggy air with incomprehensible words. I was too fucking far gone to even chastise Bella for her inarticulateness.
I neither increased my thrusts nor slowed but kept a steady rhythm in and out. It was bodily heaven!
Bella came twice, solemnly swearing underbreath to neither "MEGO," or, "RMETTH."
I'd never feel the physical exertion, but my GOD!, my dick was so fucking huge it felt like a rocket about to take off.
Winding my arms around her back, Bella and I were close as could be as a rumble ripped from my chest with a true roar and my venom shot forth in steady endless streams instead of countable spurts! I'd gone for the hat-trick; no eyes rolling, screaming my name, and looking at me while we came simultaneously.
And true to her word, she hadn't allowed her Eyes to Glaze Over nor had she Rolled her Eyes to the Heavens.
Her walls continued to milk and grip me for several long minutes.
This was our final day.
Bella had exited the shower midmorning finding me rummaging through her suitcase. "What are you doing, dear?"
I shuffled my feet and quickly folded all the clothes I'd inspected, "Er, just, um… shit. Bella, you're not still shopping for clothes at Target, are you?"
Sauntering with a dip-sway of her hips, Bella dropped her towel and raised a brow, "Maybe so, maybe not. I hate to break it to you, Edward, but some of the higher end designers actually have clothing collections at Target. Plus, prudent wealth management demands I watch my pennies for my golden years."
Oh the horror!
After much thought and deliberation, in the end there were three things I'd decided I could live with. Target was one. Text speak another. Lube was a necessary addition in a pinch. But Bella growing old? No.
We were in the kitchen when the maid intruded once again.
Ignoring me completely, much to my consternation, María Concepción addressed Bella wholly and familiarly, "Pero si él es un vampiro! Qué no tiene cabeza niña? Qué tal si queda preñada? No le enseñaron que al diablo lo que es del diablo y a Dios lo que es de Dios? Chupasangres y personas son como el agua y el aceite, no se mezclan niña!. Dios la ampare y favorezca!"
I effortlessly translated her epic diatribe: But he is a vampire. Are you wrong in your head, child? What if you get pregnant? Didn't they teach you to give to the devil what is the devil's and to God what is God's? Bloodsuckers and people are like water and oil, they do not mix girl. God help you!
I interjected, with French, "J'essaie de bosser putain."
Bella spat her Eggs Benedict everywhere at my outburst. What? I was trying to fucking work here.
Wiping her mouth and the table, Bella turned to María Concepción and explained in perfect Spanish as if speaking to someone of her own station, "Ignóralo María, a veces actua como un imbécil mojigato. Gracias por preocuparte por mí, se bien que es un vampiro, y que tira puro aire, al menos eso espero!"
Huh? First of all, sanctimonious jerk sometimes? At least she continued with a clarification that she was well aware of my immortal nature, and a hope that I was shooting blanks. I'd had my ejaculate tested for more than just protein value so I could attest to that.
Bella blushed as the maid left the house for the final time. "Spanish, Bella?" She'd surpassed all my expectations!
Unblinkingly, she stared at me. Of course. I didn't know everything about her as her mind was an insurmountable forcefield. As she continued to meet my gaze, I envisioned Bella as my eternal mate; she had the stony glower down to a 't' and nary a muscle twitched while she lifted another forkful of wobbly yolk and Canadian bacon covered in Hollandaise sauce to her mouth… now that was HOT.
"Bella-love, I'm sorry to interrupt your breakfast again, but about the eggs. How can you savor them so much and still be less than thrilled about my own cum?"
"Edward, darling, eggs are smooth and creamy. Your non-sperm is a bit more lumpy, honey. It's nothing against you."
I remained mildly disturbed by her Eggs Benedict-cum-cum comparison.
"I know you detest the term pigs-in-a-blanket, so what if I just called it bubble and squeak?"
A vein bulged in my forehead, and I was silenced.
"Are you having an SM, Edward?"
A Senior Moment? Oh hell no!
I took Bella's cleared plate to the sink, poured her another Mimosa. She'd acquired quite the taste for expensive champagne after our lavish, speedy reception and I couldn't complain as it loosened Bella up nicely.
Yesterday morning it'd been a Buck's Fizz; an odious concoction of OJ and champagne. With my jizz as a chaser. Well, it was remotely better than the Orange Julius reference of old, so I let it slide.
Just like my sap down her throat as I stood before her now, my jeans open, my dick up and down and in and out of her mouth, at just the exact angle so she could deep throat me accurately.
Hitting the back of her throat, she relaxed and let me trespass further. I groaned and growled and howled and bit my lips, clenched my jaw, opened my mouth to punctuated hisses.
This time I lost count of my spurts.
She welcomed it all!
Grabbing Bella's arms, I brought her up to me. "How was that, Edward?"
I kissed her frantically. Tasting myself in her mouth, and it really was a pleasant flavor, I admired, "Perfect, Bella. Je t'aime."
Even sampling my release on her lips, I continued to gnaw over my anxiety that Bella needed to be immortal like me; preferably before she aged much more.
Embracing her, I nipped the most thrumming artery within her neck, my mouth opened and my teeth wet.
"Bella, have you ever thought about becoming a vampire?" No sleeping, endless fucking, no bruises and no need to hold back… no eating! No nightmares… no menstruation-provoked tantrums. Win, win, win.
"Jesus H., Edward! Took you long enough to come up with the easy answer of Make Bella a Vampire.
"Holy crow, Edward. I've had it up to my eyeballs with campfires!" but I knew I'd heard right this time because Bella was smiling.
Mainland here we come. I hoped to be mainlining Bella's sanguine sumptuousness soon.
Twining her luscious arms around my neck and bringing me to her face, she spoke with not an ounce of demureness, "BMOF."
Bite Me Old Fart?
Oh, she didn't have to ask twice…
~Equally RAWR and RRR? Apparently that's the new LOL. Please review!~
We're all still chillaxin' at the Dead Confed thread on Twilighted (it's getting a bit crowded with Eddie, Peddie, SassyB., and Rebella, but there's never a dull moment). Come say hi.
Fun stuff: I have a new AU story, Youth without Age and Life without Death. DC's is still fucking hilarious. There's a Cougar Competition going on, The Cougar Revolution. Entries wanted, deadline March 15th. www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/u/2230877/