ENTRY FOR THE CURVACEOUS AND BODACIOUS BOMBSHELL FIC CONTEST
Story Name: A Matter of Perspective
Total Word Count: 2999
Summary: She feels fat; he thinks she's as sexy and alluring as the day they met, if not more so. A little sweetness and a new perspective help Angela appreciate herself and the man who loves her.
A/N: These characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, but her version & mine differ greatly. Namely, Emmett being human ;) Many thanks to BBSapphire24 for lending her time to look this over for me. I hope you all enjoy!
"Babe?" His voice was groggy but gentle. "You okay?"
I sighed heavily, rolling to my side as I felt his warm hand engulf my hip.
"Can't sleep, huh?" he continued.
"You've been flipping and flopping for an hour."
I moved to get out of our bed. "Sorry. I'm keeping you awake."
Before I could go anywhere, the hand on my hip pulled my lower half into his, spooning me. His other hand splayed between my shoulder blades, his thumb moving in soothing circles over my spine, working up to my neck.
"Stay put," he whispered softly. "I'm fine. Just close your eyes and rest."
I did as he told me to and sank into the comfort of his touch, finally finding sleep.
The mirror doesn't lie, especially not the enormous six-by-eight foot mirror over the his-and-hers sinks in our bathroom.
It was a miracle I didn't break chairs every time I sat.
I was already twelve pounds heavier than I'd been before our first baby. That's twenty pounds more than my high school weight. Okay, okay, I'm not deluded enough to believe any normal woman can maintain her teenage figure, but in comparison, I felt like a cow.
I stared at my reflection, running my hands down my sides. I looked kind of like a potato, all round and shapeless. My lip curled in disgust at that thought.
My legs were ridiculous. I'd always had slender legs, long and lean. Now, my thighs rubbed together when I walked.
I touched my cheeks. My face was round and swollen. I pinched beneath my chin. Gross.
I was a freaking blob.
Not to imply that I wasn't happy to be pregnant again, but I looked – and therefore felt – horrible.
"Babe?" I heard from the bedroom. "You in here? I just dropped Edward at my mom's. She's taking him to the zoo today."
Before I could respond, that bathroom door opened and my husband stood in the doorway. I watched him in the mirror, his eyes roving over my naked body.
"Well, hello there, sexy," he said, smirking. There was a hunger in his eyes that still made my heart beat faster after six years together. "Were you waiting for me?"
As he stalked closer, I couldn't help but smile a little. How he still managed to find me attractive was beyond me, but it was good for the ego.
He stood behind me, and I continued to watch our reflections. I was tall for a girl at five-nine, but Emmett still hovered over me by a solid six and half inches. Everything about him was broad, muscled, and completely irresistible. I had fallen hard for his dark curls and boyish dimples, and I easily came to love every other ounce of his perfection. Standing behind my naked, bloated body in jeans and a T-shirt that stretched across his pecs and clung to his massive biceps, it was impossible to ignore the sharp contrast between us.
"Why are you making that face?" he asked, frowning. God, he was even gorgeous when unhappy.
"I feel gross. I look gross."
He shook his head and pressed into my back, taking my hands and holding them near my waist.
"You're beautiful," he told me firmly. "You are as beautiful as the day I first saw you, which, in case you've forgotten, was the same moment I fell in love with you."
I smiled involuntarily. Emmett loved to tell this story, even if only to me, so I let him go on, watching his eyes as he spoke.
"Junior year of college and the only other time I'd been in the library was during my freshman orientation campus tour. I had no idea where to even start, and then there you were, sexy librarian girl with those dark-rimmed glasses and your head buried in a book. You even had your hair in a bun," he added as he pulled the band out from my ponytail, letting my hair fall messily. He swept it to one side, placing a quick kiss on my bare shoulder.
"It was hardly a bun. I'd just thrown it up in a sloppy knot because my hair looked terrible that day," I interrupted.
"Shush," he teased. "Let me finish."
I nodded, sucking my lips in to fight another smile.
His hands rubbed up and down my sides warmly.
"So there you were, and when I asked you for help, I wanted to call you Angel because that's what you looked like to me."
"You did not!"
"I sure did," he grinned, "but I was worried you might wield a ruler on me."
"You're so weird."
"You love me."
I nodded. "I do."
"You're still that same girl to me, Ang." He leaned around, turning my chin upward so he could press a firm kiss upon my lips.
Looking back at me in the mirror, he pulled off his shirt and let me feel the warmth of his skin on my back. His hands moved to my hips, gently caressing.
"What do you see here?" he asked.
"Child-bearing hips," I answered flatly.
"Not me," he began. "I see the first place my hands rested when we danced at my fraternity formal. I see hips and a sexy ass that began to take a new shape when you let me be the first person to love you. They went from girlish to womanly; so sexy. I see the place you hold our little boy when he wants his mommy."
My heart fluttered. That was quickly overtaken by a shudder when his large, warm hands enveloped my breasts.
"I know you don't think these look good anymore, but you're wrong. You nurtured our child from your breasts, and you'll do it again soon. You give life, health, and security here." His lips curled mischievously and he squeezed, flicking teasingly over my nipples. "I'll never get tired of how good you feel in my hands or the way your breath catches when I touch you here. I will always love the feel and taste of your body, no matter how time and babies shape you."
I leaned back into him, placing my hands over his and pressing down to ask for more. He complied, rolling my nipples between his fingers and pinching, and his mouth fell to the side of my neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. I reached behind me, awkwardly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, leaving them hanging open at his waist before he pressed harder against me.
For the moment, I forgot all my body woes and focused on my husband and all the amazing things he could make me feel. I just needed him. His pants were eventually discarded, and he moved us toward our oversized, glass encased shower, which had been my original destination. He pressed me to the tile wall, leaning his heavy body against mine enough for me to feel his weight and pressure the way I loved, but not so much as to hurt the little one growing inside me. His hands moved over my neck, my breasts, and my round stomach as he kissed me, and I reached out, stroking his erection with the slippery ease of the water.
"I love you so much," he said against my mouth.
"Love you too," I told him, pushing him away, needing desperately to show him. His look of confusion faded as I dropped to my knees, taking him into my mouth.
"Fuck . . ." he rasped. "Babe . . . oh god . . . mmm . . ."
I bathed him with my tongue until he came, hot and hard in my mouth, and then we washed each other clean before the water turned cold.
"Come here," Emmett gritted out, tugging at my arms.
"No," I whined, pushing my hips down to change his mind.
"I want you," he pressed.
"I'm enormous. I'll suffocate you."
He sat up suddenly, shifting me in his lap. "Angela McCarty, how man times do I have to tell you that you are beautiful, sexy, and drive me fucking mad? You could have eight babies in there and I guarantee you this: I'd still want you, and I'd still be bigger than you. Now stop fighting me and ride my face."
"Such a pervert," I said with a laugh, but the truth was it did turn me on. I finally obliged, allowing Emmett to lie back again and guide me so that my pussy hovered over his face. Teasingly, he dipped the tip of his finger inside, making me squirm and press down for more. His single finger moved slowly, sliding in up to his knuckle, then out again, leaving me feeling void and empty. He continued making me completely crazy because at the same time, I could feel his hot breath against all my most sensitive places.
"Em," I breathed, grabbing the headboard to hold myself steady.
He slid a second finger in then, making me moan loudly at the delicious stretching sensation. His strokes were slightly faster, stiff-fingered and intentional in his plans to drive me to the edge. Unexpectedly, he left me empty again, but then his tongue finally joined the party. I found myself grinding down on his face, white-knuckling the cherry colored wood beneath my hands. Emmett held firmly to my hips, guiding us both, and I reveled in the way his mouth felt like silk pajamas and summer days at the beach. He sucked-flicked-sucked hard on my clit, humming hungrily, and I arched and yelled, letting the ecstasy wash over me. Effortlessly, he picked me up and flipped us so I was the one on the bottom, on my hands and knees. It was a frenzy, and then intense relief when he pushed inside me from behind.
"This okay?" he asked breathlessly.
"Hell yes," I moaned, pushing my hips back into his thrusting. He hit the perfect spot like that, and he felt so impossibly huge inside me.
"Tell me if it's too hard."
"No, harder," I urged.
His hips slammed against my ass, the sounds of flesh slapping playing a staccato rhythm with our heavy breaths and needful cries.
He was moving at a fevered pace, and suddenly, there was a yank on my hair. Oh god, yes. Hard, hard, hard. Everything was so hard. He slammed and yanked, and I let him do whatever he wanted or needed because it all felt so fucking good, and I just wanted more and forever and always.
It hurt, but in all the best kinds of ways, and I shrieked out the loudest cry when I felt the sharp sting of Emmett's hand on my ass.
"Ohmygod," I managed.
"You like that babe? You want more?" he said through obviously gritted teeth.
"Please . . ."
Another smack came down against the fleshy part of my ass, and I felt a little like a horse with my husband yanking my hair with one hand and slapping my bottom with the other, but it was all so hot and carnal that I didn't even care. The pain muddled perfectly with the severe pleasure we were creating, and within moments it all became too much. My limbs gave out under me as a hard orgasm rocked my body, and though I fell to my elbows, my face smashed against a pillow, Emmett held my hips up for a few more rough blows before he collapsed over my back. He kissed along my sweaty spine before sliding out and rolling to the side, and our heavy, panting breaths were the only sounds for several minutes.
"You okay?" he finally asked, reaching out to stroke my cheek. I was on my side, facing him, studying the defined lines over every naked muscle I could see.
I smiled, dazedly, and nodded. "Perfect."
"I didn't hurt you?"
"Not in a bad way."
His lips formed a tight line, but after a moment his expression softened and he scooted closer against me, pulling me into a tender, sweet kiss.
"I'm sorry if I got a little crazy. It wasn't my intention to push you right now with all the other stuff going on in your body, but fuck, babe, something got into me today."
I just nodded again, running my hand up and down the smoothness of his back.
"Ang, I know you've been in a slump lately, but I can't tell you enough that you don't need to feel the way you do." I watched his honest eyes as he spoke. This was one of our moments, one of the times I could feel his love and our deep connection in every cell of my body. I needed this as much as he did. "I know it's partly because we finally got a day to ourselves since Edward is with my parents; sometimes I miss you so much, even when we're right here.
"And, babe, you're so incredibly sexy to me. It kills me when you think anything else, for whatever reason. I fell in love with this," he said, placing his hand over my heart, "and the rest is just details. But seeing your body all curvy and plump because of our baby, because of our love, that is just . . . it makes me crazy in a way I don't think I can describe. I think it's amazing what pregnancy does to you. I think you are amazing, and I always will, so don't you dare think you're anything less than perfect. Ever. You got it?"
I looked deeper into his eyes, soaking up each word, each confession, and the deep, sweet sincerity of it all, and something went off inside me. It was love and pregnancy hormones, it was exhaustion and the high of mind blowing sex wearing off. I burst into tears. Sobbing, blubbering, gasping tears with a sniffling nose to top it all off.
"I love you," was all I could say, and he just chuckled and soothed me, pulling me tightly into his secure embrace and letting me release it all.
I stood in front of the mirror later that day, examining my naked body before another much needed shower.
My belly was full and round, and within it, I knew there was a precious life growing and changing with each passing second. My hips were wider, showing me that they were prepared for that new life to be welcomed into this world. My thicker legs housed strong muscles that carried me and my child where we needed to be. My breasts, though not as perky as they once had been, showed the signs of motherhood. They were full and ready to nurture another child. My face, regardless of being round and puffy, still held a genuine smile for the life I had been blessed with.
I nodded to myself, appreciating my body and seeing it the way my loving husband described to me. It wasn't about a size or a number on a scale, I realized; it was about us, our family. We had found such connection, such completion in one another, and when Edward entered our lives, I knew that my heart grew larger than I'd ever imagined possible. Everything was so different as a parent, and so unexpected, but it was wonderful. I could only imagine how all our love would expand when our baby girl joined us.
After a hot, slow shower, I wrapped myself in my favorite yoga pants, one of Emmett's enormous sweatshirts, and a warm fleece blanket. I curled up in my husband's oversized recliner with a good book and enjoyed the rest of my Saturday afternoon.
". . . and Mimi letted me watch Alice in Wumberlan after the zoo, so I wanna call you Alice, baby sister."
My eyes slowly peeled open as I heard the little voice of my son and felt his tiny, preschooler hands rubbing over my belly. He had pulled up my sweatshirt and was talking to my stomach very closely. I sat there silently for a few more minutes, listening to his one-sided conversation with his sister-to-be, as he told her about his day, reliving what was apparently his new favorite movie, and describing all the different zoo animals he had seen. There was little consistency to his descriptions, flipping back and forth between details of each, but it was sweet and so perfectly childlike. There finally came a point where I just needed to love on my precious little guy.
"Hey, tiger. Did you have fun with Mimi and Papa today?"
"Hi, Mommy!" he said, looking up at me excitedly. "You were sleepin, so I talked to Alice."
"Who's Alice?" I asked with a grin.
"My sister!" he squealed, bouncing up and down on his knees.
I laughed at his enthusiasm and nodded. "Hmm . . . Alice is a nice name. We'll have to talk to Daddy about that one."
As Edward curled into my side, snuggling close and resting his head on the top of my belly, I looked up toward the entryway to our family room. Emmett was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed in front of him, and the most loving grin lighting his face, dimples deep and genuine. I smiled back at him, our eyes locked, rubbing one hand over Edward's back and the other along the stretched skin of my stomach.
"I like Alice," he said simply.
I nodded and tipped my chin up, beckoning him closer. He strode the few steps across the room to me, leaning down and kissing the top of Edward's head before pressing his lips to mine. His hand rested atop the one on my stomach.
"I'm gonna go get dinner ready, yeah?" he said.
"Sounds great," I agreed, kissing him quickly once more.
As he walked out of the room, he looked back at me over his shoulder, mouthing the words, "I love you," and smiling his devastating, perfect, loving smile at me.