SMeyer owns all.

Jasper Whitlock-Cullen was a man so manly that he was frequently mistaken for myth. Well, he was that too, since he was a vampire. Testosterone flowed so copiously through him that his vampiric stubble could enticingly tickle a saloon girl's thighs in her second story boudoir while he was still downstairs at the bar. And he was so skilled in gun fighting, gold prospecting, and horsemanship that he was the greatest gunfighter, gold prospector and horsemanship-er that anyone had ever seen, with the exception of his two brothers and his father – all of whom had appeared in three other fanfiction stories in which they had each been labeled the greatest gunfighter, gold prospector, and horsemanship-er that anyone had ever seen. The Cullen boys were not jealous. Whichever of them was the protagonist at the time could be the greatest. The non-protagonists would be compensated by wives who fucked them and cleaned up their messes.

Jealous, no. Misogynist, yes.

Jasper sat at a table in the Drink 'Till You Vomit Saloon with two other men and one woman. The men were both, coincidentally, members of the same extremely prolific family - the Volturi - with whom the Cullens had a showdown in every story whose title began with the words "The", "Once", or really, any other word in the English language – there were even a few in Yiddish. The woman, who was wearing a red dress, was clearly a saloon girl - a prostitute, or easy at the very least, because everybody was always exactly what their clothing suggested them to be.

Every hair on Jasper's body prickled as he stared at the girl in the red dress. The girl in the red dress stared back because when every hair on Jasper's masculinely hirsute body prickled, his shirt stood a good four feet out from his torso. This did not, however, break her rhythm as she dealt the cards for a cutthroat game of Go Fish. The ante on the table was a six million year old treasure map written in ancient Druidic runes, marking the location of an old gold mine somewhere in the Poconos. Other people said it was a fake, but Jasper knew better.

"Got any Jacks?" the girl in the red dress asked in a husky tone. Sure, he thought. Whenever I go to bed alone, you tease. Angrily he told her to 'Go fish'. She was cheating. He knew it. He knew it because his hand had seven cards in it and they were all threes.

"Ante up," said one of the Volturi.

The girl bit her lip nervously. Slut, thought Jasper. "I don't have any money left," she said. "I guess…I'm gonna have to bet myself. You know, I'm really good at laundry and I give a mean backrub. And did I mention I can read ancient Druidic runes on treasure maps?"

Jasper immediately translated this to mean: If you win this game, I will have sex with you. Typical female! "Deal," he said quickly. "Oh, looky here. I guess I wi-"

Both of the Volturi brothers drew on Jasper, as did the bartender, the piano player, a drunken hobo, and three horses. Before anybody in the saloon could fire their weapons or even blink, Jasper had ripped the vampires apart, killed the men, put down the horses, and skedaddled out of the bar, leaving enough money to cover his tab but not a particularly generous tip. The people in the saloon were abnormally slow blinkers.

The girl had somehow run away with the map. Jasper hopped on his giant inexhaustible stallion, Metaphorical Penis, and took off after her.


He caught up with her in a conveniently isolated cave, where she sat innocently drafting her autobiography, The Virgin who Dressed like a Saloon Girl.

"Hello there," he said.

"You!" she gasped in shock.

"That's right," he said. "Now give me back the diary and pull up your skirt."

"B-b-but…" she stammered. "I'm a virgin!"

"And I'm a bloodthirsty vampire," said Jasper. "Get comfortable while I tie Metaphorical Penis up outside."

"What's a penis?" she asked.

"Don't be coy with me," said Jasper.

Jasper didn't trust her because she was a woman. Once, back east, a woman had treacherously refused to have sex with him before marriage. Finally, in a hormonal haze, he had given in and told her he'd take her back west as his bride. Stunningly, she had declined.

Women, he'd decided, wanted only money and comfort from a man, and they used their bodies to get them. He spent the next ten years validating this opinion by restricting his female acquaintanceship to prostitutes who were – surprise, surprise! – always willing to exchange their bodies for money or comfort. Women!

Jasper tore open the girl's blouse. Copious porcelain bosoms spilled out into his hands.

"Um, did I mention that I was a virgin?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, yeah," said Jasper, distractedly trying to figure out how porcelain could spill. He hiked her skirt up around her waist. Creamy white thighs stretched endlessly up to her anachronistic panties. Perhaps the cream came from the porcelain?

"You know…a virgin in the sense that I've never had sex?" the girl said, a little more urgently.

Jasper paused and looked up at the woman, wondering how that could even be possible in this day and age. Carousing with prostitutes had really skewed his mind, but he didn't know that. He thought back to his youth, when he was attending Saddling School in the Galapagos Islands, and the Tiki girl who had innocently given him a tie-dyed bandana for luck on his exams. She had been a beauty, and she had allowed him to mount her – it was her first time – while wearing the bandana to ward off the Snapping Turtle Curse that had been plaguing his fellow schoolmates. Maybe if I use the same technique, I can break this filly in without too much whinnying…

Leaning back on his heels, Jasper took the girl's hand and drew her up into a sitting position and propositioned her. "Listen, little lady, do you wanna be a woman?"

The girl looked at him demurely, her brown eyes widening, swirling with trepidation and interest. "I'm scared!"

"What are you so fearful of?"

"I don't like to be looked at. I have a fear of eyeballs…"

Curious disorder, Jasper thought. Thankfully his technique would ensure her comfort. It's always about comfort, he reminded himself. He rolled his eyes, but he did so under the protection of his llama-like lashes. He didn't want her to become a snapping turtle – snapping turtles were the cause of male ruin everywhere.

"I have an idea," he soothed as he pulled his trusty tie-dyed bandana from his back jeans pocket. "This bandana is magical. When you wear it, no one can see you."

The girl's eyes widened even further to the point where they almost touched her ears. It reminded Jasper of his time in Korea, when a girl whose interest he'd held had given him a Sticker Booth-doctored photo keepsake of herself while covering her mouth and giggling before running off. Her eyes had been just as wide. Jasper was brought out of his brief flashback by a slap to his face. What the fuck…?

"Hey! This is my virginity here! A little more focus would be appreciated!" the girl remarked.

Oooh, frisky, aren't you, darlin'? This might be fun!

"Okay, okay… Let me pull the reins and I promise you you'll be strutting around all womanly soon enough."

The girl nodded eight times successively and closed her eyes. Jasper placed his magical bandana over her eyes, which had shrunk back to their normal positioning, and leaned forward, knotting it at the back of her head. When he sat back again and looked at her, he couldn't help but guffaw at her appearance. Oops, he thought, shaking his head. He had somehow managed to trap her little nose in the bandana. It was currently pressed up in the tightness of the bandana's hold, giving her a frantic pig nose and pulling her upper lip back to reveal some highly gummy teeth. Gummy teeth… Jasper turned his head and looked at Metaphorical Penis, who was now sporting an erection the size of Milwaukee and clomping his hoof against the cave's rocky floor.

"Whoa, horsey!" Jasper muttered lowly, in a frequency that could only be heard by his faithful companion.

Turning back towards the girl, Jasper removed two hair elastics from his multi-hair-elasticized ponytail and gathered the girl's skirts together on her left and right sides, fastening them together over her petite shoulders with them. He took a second look at his handiwork and decided that since this was such a special occasion for her, he might as well fancy her up some. He ruffled and fanned out the edges of her skirt at her shoulders, giving her a puffed sleeve effect, and smiled at his sensitivity.

He stood up and unbuckled his belt. Lowering his jeans to his ankles, he sat down and grabbed the girl by her arms, guiding her to straddle his groin. He lay down and positioned her with his hand on her thighs over his always-erect and sparkling manhood. Her chest was heaving - one bosom hanging out over her corset, the other had popped back inside – and she was panting audibly from her now equine mouth. His cock pulsed with desire and he realized that he liked her asymmetry.

"Lower down some, darlin'…"

The girl lowered her backside down until she could feel the tip of his frigid penis touch her never-before-touched opening – well, there was that one time at Water Pail Camp, but…that was a story for another time and another place.

Jasper pressed on her creamy thighs, his fingers slipping from the cream that was now sweating forth from them in her nervousness, and he slowly entered her, feeling the conicality of her womanhood stretch around him. She whimpered in pain and threw her head back, grabbing hold of his hands on her thighs, and belched. Jasper raised his eyebrow – he'd never once had that kind of reaction from a female.

The girl brought her head forward again and looked off to the far right, searching out his face in her blindness. "Sorry. I'm a bit gassy," she said shyly.

"That's all right, darlin'. Now giddy up!"

Jasper wasn't too often surprised by anything, but the moment he uttered those three final, commanding words, he felt a stabbing pain in each side of his legs. The girl was wearing Secret Spurs – the kind that was now all the rage from Grand Junction to Mankato – and she had dug them into his sides, grabbed hold of his still-done-up shirt collar, whinnied like the broken horse she now was, and started bucking like a rodeo bronco.

The pain reminded him of the time he was zooming through the Forests of Endor on a speeder bike while fleeing those pesky Stormtroopers. The speeders looked comfortable, but they had a tendency to pinch the legs in an extremely uncomfortable manner. But our hero didn't want to remember the forests of Endor or those little furry things that had given him a terrible case of penile chafing. Oh no, our hero believed in living in the moment and forgetting about the past, no matter how painful the moment seemed to be.

Jasper ran his hands down her hips and over her extremely creamy thighs, which were becoming creamier by the second since her cavern of womanliness had turned into an untapped spring of cooter puke, until he reached those pesky hidden spurs. With one quick flick of his extremely powerful - yet always gentle - vampiric hands, he managed to turn the little metal spurs into dust. No longer concerned about the pain, he could now focus on the pleasure.

He relished the feel of her gaping love cavern every time she rose and fell, creating just the right amount of friction. Of course, this friction also caused a buildup of gases within her mossy grotto, which was released in a spectacular queef - one so loud that even Enormous Penis stared down in bewilderment.

"Oh dear, was that me? I apologize. I told you I was gassy." The girl had enough foresight not to stop her ministrations to Jasper's bald headed yogurt slinger. He waved off her worry with one hand before placing it back on her hip to help set her pace.

She ripped open his shirt, exposing his three nipples – the change hadn't cured Jasper of that human indecency – and no longer having his shirt to use as her horn, she forced his head back when she grabbed hold of his manly, stubbly chin instead. Jasper's eyes opened, surprised by her blatant eroticism, and then rolled back as she curled her feet under his thighs and, inserting her right big toe, proceeded to deftly massage his g-spot, milking his prostate.

Oh, God…she definitely knows about more than just runic cartography.

He was sure he was going to explode but knew that he had to hold on just a little longer. This was her first time and he had to be sure her lady petals got the chance to quiver around him. An orgasm is an awful thing to waste. Looking down, he could have sworn she was immortal considering the speed with which she was moving. Her mouth hung agape, but she was silent. A quiet one, I see, he thought. Her head flew back again and, looking clear into her nasal cavity, he could see he would have to politely offer her his handkerchief when they were done. A low hum began issuing forth from her throat – not a moan per se, but definitely something good. Jasper blinked once, and when he opened his eyes again he saw that Gargantuan Penis had backed up and over the girl's face, effectively tea bagging her. She now looked like a horse with large hairy deformed eyeballs and her humming had turned guttural. It all became a bit too much for our hero.

"Oh, Miss…brace yourself. I'm about to spurt."

Jasper bucked his back and reached for the girl's impressively large little man in the boat, rubbing it in smooth counter clockwise circles. He couldn't contain his growl any longer, letting it out in one long safari-like refrain. The girl joined in.

"Ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo," she babooned as he ejaculated inside her. The strength of his orgasm shot her straight off his dick just as Biggus Dickus whinnied and moved himself off her face. Well choreographed, Jasper thought, as the girl squirted him on his chin with her female ejaculate mid air, like a stream of liquid butter. As she came down, the girl flung herself forward and plastered her jaw to Jasper's third nipple, biting it viciously while shaking her head and grunting out the end of her pleasure.

Jasper's chest rose and fell in an arrhythmic fashion as he tried to get a hold of his bearings. That had to be the most explosive orgasm he'd ever had, and he doubted Little Miss Sunshine would ever forget this moment.


They crossed three hundred miles of desert with two canteens of water. They climbed vertical mountains on horseback. They rode twelve hours a day and were still horny at the end of it. Nobody ever needed sunscreen.

"There it is," Bella said. "The sign for the mine." She pointed to a blinking neon arrow that said "LOST DRUIDIC MINE" on it. Although Jasper would never admit it, he was glad she had come along to read the map. He had already mistaken three Indian casinos for the mine.

Just then, a flurry of shots erupted from around the stone cliffs. The Volturi and their lackeys of ambiguous ethnicity had caught up to them at last. Jasper and Bella dove for cover in opposite directions. Jasper opened fire, taking out many of the lackeys, all of whom would die in peace having fulfilled their literary function of raising the body count without forcing the Volturi to crank out an additional twenty-seven vampires.

But then he was out of bullets.

"Jasper!" cried Bella, brandishing a gun. Bullets spattered the rocks around her as she dashed across the open space to reach him. Although Jasper had killed twenty-seven lackeys from a bad firing position with the sun in his eyes, not a single enemy had managed to even clip Bella in a non-vital limb. That was how you knew they were enemies.

"Thanks," Jasper said, snatching the gun and rapidly taking out the remaining lackeys.

He turned to her in the sudden quiet. "You saved my life," he said, amazed.

"Nah," said Bella. "You're a vampire - the bullets won't kill you, they'll probably just sting for a bit. Plus, it seemed like the best way to get a clear shot at you."

"What in tarnation is that supposed to mean?" he asked, taken aback.

"Relax, Jasper! I was just jesting with you! Now let's go find us some buried treasure…" She grinned at Jasper in a winning manner, planted a kiss on his frozen lips, and stood up, holding her hands out to him to help him up - not that he needed the help.

He grinned back and brushed some brush of his pants before re-grabbing her hands and pulling her toward the Poconoan runic mine shaft. Conveniently placed at the entrance to the mine shaft was a Super-Duper Ladder of Lengthy Proportions. The girl pulled out the map from her travelling water pail and tapped it with her French manicured fingertip.

"It's right here below us! You go first and I'll follow behind you!" she shouted.

"Why are you shouting?" Jasper asked, perplexed.

"Because it's what they do in all those picture shows!" she shouted again.

Very, very odd girl, Jasper thought. But she bucks like a pro and she's kind of adorable when she's gassy.

Jasper maneuvered around the ladder and began his descent. As he made his way down, he looked up to see that the girl was above him and making her way down too. The girl's idea was a sound one – Jasper could see right up her petticoat to her junction.


Yee fucking haw!

After about an hour of traversing the Super-Duper Ladder of Lengthy Proportions, which included the Loop de Loop and Upside Down portions of their descent, Jasper's feet touched solid ground. He stepped to the side as the girl met him at the bottom, and they both turned around clockwise in slow motion – like a well choreographed contemporary dance duo – kicking their right legs high in flawless rondes de jambes. The girl decided to add in a last minute plié for good measure, and when she rose again, she looked up at Jasper, who had a look of wondrous wonderment upon his face. She, too, turned her head in the direction he was staring and she opened her mouth in beatific shock.

A golden aura was emanating through a thick cloud of tumbleweed the size of Lucifer himself. Jasper sucked in a breath and began to sing.

"Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday, sweet meeeeeeeee…" He sucked in another breath and made jazz fingers. "Happy birthday to me! Now blow, little lady!"

The girl made a few successive shallow deep sea breaths before sucking in as much air into her little lungs, her stomach protracting quite a bit as she swallowed, and issuing forth the greatest belch ever constructed from her sweet rosy mouth. Her lower lip quivered, and Jasper could swear he made it to the letter 'z' three times before she stopped. He held out his hand and placed it on her shoulder to regain his balance – the smell alone from last night's dinner of beans and roasted hobo was enough to knock him off guard – and then wiped the spittle she had sprayed on his face up and into his hair, fashioning himself a Doo Wop 'do.

The girl's actions had been far more fruitful than just unbalancing Jasper and providing some much needed sauce for his hair – the giant tumbleweeds rolled off to the side of the mine's shaft one after the other, mimicking a fantastic Rockettes roll-out formation. When the final tumbleweed exited stage right from the remaining strength of the girl's hurricane-like burp, the girl had to grab Jasper's hand for support. They both squinted their eyes at the blinding gold light as they took tentative baby steps forward, every five feet stopping to click their heels twice in the air for good luck.

They finally reached the center of the room in which stood a very tall hot tub champagne glass – the kind reserved solely for honeymooners. The golden aura was originating at the top, so hand-in-hand they continued toward it, penguin-stepping it up its side-spiral staircase. The girl's grasp on Jasper kept tightening the higher they ascended until she squeaked just before reaching the top. Since Jasper was a good foot taller than the girl, he saw the treasure first.

"Oh, sweet mother of God."

"What is it, Jasper? What is it?"

"Um…I never thought I would ever see the day. We're rich, little lady! Rich!"

The girl clambered up the last few steps, shielding her eyes from the blinding light.

"Oh, Jasper! I can't even… I don't know… Oh, my!"

Knowing that they were rich beyond their wildest dreams and wishing to celebrate, the girl suddenly yearned to please Jasper and be pleased by him, all night. Or at least three and a half minutes like last time. Jasper immediately caught on to her sultry looks, and once she let loose another manly belch, he was putty in her hands. It was his turn to make a move.

"Watch this," he said, his voice seeming to lick all of her senses to life. "I shall mesmerize you into a state of lust with my man-cobra."

He moved a few steps away and undressed quickly. Slowly, he jerked his hips to the left, then the right, then the front. His hips jerked faster and faster as he leapt toward her, as if drawn by an invisible string.

The girl fought back horrified laughter. "Who taught you that?"

"Thought it up myself," he said with a jaunty grin. "A whore I had once said it was the most erotic thing she'd ever seen."

"Really?" The girl's voice was tinged with doubt.

Jasper frowned. "Actually she called it the most bizarre thing, but her English was horrible. I knew what she meant."

The girl found her attention drawn to an ugly red sore on the side of his man-cobra. "You're hurt," she said softly, her eyes searching his. "I didn't see that before! Did you get wounded in the shootout?"

He snorted. "If by 'wounded' you mean 'the clap' and by 'shootout' you mean 'East-end brothel,' then yes. Yes, I did."

"The clap?" She edged closer to the treasure and wondered if she could grab the treasure and make it to Hung Like A Horse before Jasper caught her.

He followed her, swinging his manly sword around in circles as he approached. "Don't worry," he said. "The doctor said it was a healthy dose."

"Oh," she cried, stamping her foot, "it's not supposed to be this way! We're supposed to join body and soul after finding the treasure! And you were supposed to become so entranced by my virginal charms that you force me to marry you so that no other man can partake of my lovebox."

"Why would I do that?" he asked. "You got tits made of gold or something?"

She shook her head. "Secret past as a sultan's harem girl? Extraordinary skills with a whip?"

"N-n-n-not that I-I know of," she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"In that case, I don't think your plan will work. Honestly, my marrying a recently deflowered virgin is about as likely as someone paying me for sex." He laughed.

"Well, technically, the treasure is half mine now, so you could always marry me for more money.." The girl quipped.

"Now, that sounds like a mighty fine reason for gettin' hitched little lady! But first, I believe I have at least one hole of yours left to deflower." Jasper stated, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

The girl knew that a dirty, dusty cave wasn't somewhere she wanted to lose her second virginity, so she quickly formulated a simple plan: she promptly fainted. Jasper caught hold of her before she could Q*bert it back down the steps, and then he grabbed The Ever Elusive Gold Chia Pet of Ancientia and turned to hightail it down toward the Super-Duper Ladder of Lengthy Proportions, only stopping to grab his clothes. But the moment he lifted their treasure from its stronghold upon the lily pad in the center of the bubbling water, the mine they were in began to rumble, chunks of rocks and slabs of stone falling around them. Using his non-existent legs to propel him and his lady friend faster to safety, he reached the ladder just as a boulder hit it, shattering it to smithereens.

Fuck! Jasper internally screamed, making his ears ring.

The little lady shifted in his arms and opened her eyes, staring about her in horror. They were trapped and they both knew it.

All of a sudden a rope end smacked Jasper upside the head, startling the girl. They both looked up, up the mine entrance's lengthy, lengthy length and Jasper could see Allegorical Penis' head at the opening in a galaxy far, far away – in other words, they were still smack dab in the Poconos.

"N-a-a-a-a-a-a-y, you assholes," Jasper's trusty companion bellowed down with the other rope end between his teeth. "Are you coming or staying for the tea party?"

Jasper looked at the girl, and she looked at him, both their eyes wide and eyebrows comically lifted in surprise.

"I didn't know he could talk!" she gasped.

"I didn't know either… Who cares? Let's get the hell out of here!"

The girl re-situated herself around Jasper's frame, piggy back-style and holding on to his nostrils for dear life, as Jasper wrapped the rope around his wrist and whistled for Figurative Horse to make his move.

Symbolic Horse started trotting backwards – as only proper country horses know how to do – until Jasper, the girl, and their newfound treasured treasure were out in the open and sprawled in the Poconoan dirt. Jasper rolled over, his head next to the girl's, and they both looked up to see Literal Horse's face staring down at them.

"That plant thingy looks mighty rare and exceptional. I demand threesies," it stated matter-of-factly.

Jasper and the girl looked at each other again before looking back up at their rescuer, nodding.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.


"Edward the Talking Horse, eh? Pleased to meet you. I'm Bella."

And with that the three galloped off into the sunset, making threesies happily ever after.