Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Any similarities to the original characters or themes from the books or media franchise are used here for entertainment purposes only. All original elements to this story are mine. Please don't claim it for your own. Stealing ain't cool, m'kay?
I wrote and posted this story over a year ago, but took it down when FFn started pulling fics. I decided to put it back up. You don't have to review it, I just want it back in the public domain here for as long as it can be ;)
Important author's note:
This was my crackfic entry for the Pineapple Awards.
NOTE: A pineapple is the worst of the worst lemons. Think, "My leaky, weeping pussy" bad. BAD.
The Mechanics of Thrust won Pavarti's Pick in The Pineapple Awards!
Thanks to all who read and reviewed this ridiculous piece of lemon-pie! It was fun to write, and should not-I repeat SHOULD NOT be taken seriously. At all. Ever.
"Emmett, can you hand me the torque wrench?" Rosalie asks from beneath Carlisle's Mercedes. Her long, lean legs are bare and are the only part of her that's visible and I can't stop fucking staring at them.
I've got your torque wrench right here, baby, I think to myself with a groan because I can't think of anything other than how hard I am or the unspeakably dirty things I want to do to her. There's always been something about my Rosie under a vehicle that makes my cock stand at attention…okay, so it's not just her under a vehicle that makes me hard. It's pretty much every fucking time we're in the same room.
"Dammit, Emmett! Why do you even offer to help?" she yells, pushing herself out from under the vehicle on the red leather mechanic dolly. There's oil and dirt smudged on her face and neck, and her tits are… Fuckin' tear me apart and set me on fire. You see, she's wearing this shirt that's tight in all the right places (which is basically all the fuck over) and because she's laying down, she's got this incredible cleavage that's just begging for me to motorboat – she fucking hates when I do that, but she lets me as long as she can… Uhhh… You know what? I've already said too much. Let's just leave it at: "she lets me motorboat the twins." Cool.
"What?" I say, but it sounds more like "Pubba?" because I'm still staring at her tits. I contemplate ripping off her clothes and driving my cock into her while she's on the dolly, wondering if all the forward momentum of my thrusting will cause us to move around the garage. I laugh out loud because the image is fucking hilarious and I suddenly want to try it.
She's on her feet and staring me down. Her eyes are wide and furious, the amber colour quickly being overcome by black as her anger escalates. She's annoyed. I don't need mind-reader-Eddie here to tell me that. I'm not a fucking tool.
Hoping to change her mood, I smile at her, and I make sure that it's wide enough that my dimples are deep because she can't resist them. I think I used to hate the fucking things as a kid, but man, they got me out of a lot of hot water with her.
Thrusting her finger in my face, she narrows her eyes menacingly. "Don't think you're getting off that easy, Emmett McCarty," she warns, her voice so low that I can hear a growl starting to rumble in her chest. All I hear is "getting off easy," before her snarl fills the room completely. The sound excites me, mostly because when Rosie growls, it usually means I'm in for crazy-angry sex. And crazy-angry sex in the garage could be fun. What with the dolly and all…
I laugh again.
"What is so damn funny?" she demands, frustrated. Waggling my eyebrows suggestively, her features soften slightly and I grab onto her and kiss her furiously. She pretends to try and push away, but I hold firm. I suspect she isn't really put out by my sudden need to fuck her.
I'm right; she does give in after I drop my hands to her ass and lift her until our faces are level. Her tongue pokes out, angrily insisting that I comply with its voracious demands. I do of course, because I'm a guy – and also because Mr. Stiffy wants to come out and say hello to her rocket socket.
Even though I can sense she's still a little angry (which is okay, 'cause remember, I like crazy-angry garage sex – or, I'm pretty sure I will), it only adds to the heat between us. Her hands are on the neck of my shirt, splitting it right down the middle and shredding it from my body before she pushes me hard against the Mercedes. The windows shatter into the vehicle as my rock-hard body collides with the fibreglass body of Carlisle's very expensive car. Whoops.
I'm honestly not too bothered by the damage to the car. It's to be expected when vampires fuck the way Rosie and I do. Which is hard and fast. We've been known to destroy walls and even entire houses – the latter being why Esme and Carlisle had us live separate from them in the beginning.
Teeth sink into my bottom lip and her venom burns, indicating that there will be a scar there later. Then, Rosalie rakes her nails along my chest; the sound filling the garage is not unlike that of nails on a chalkboard, but after decades of being as hard as stone – no, not just my love stick, 'cause that shit was harder than a motherfucking diamond at this point – that sound was almost the sexiest sound in the world. Well, unless it was coming from Carlisle and Esme's room. I shudder and quickly feel the need for vampire-strength brain bleach.
"Shit, Rosie," I pant, even though I don't really breath. As her hands tear my pants open, releasing the Cock-Ness Monster, I rush us forward until her body is sandwiched between my own and Edward's Vanquish. The metal frame groans in protest as I yank her shorts down, letting them fall to her ankles as I pick her up.
Her legs wrap around my waist, forcing my cocksicle to slide along her love canal. It's now rock-hard flesh on rock-hard flesh as I continue to drive my hips against her. Slipping my hand up beneath her top – also tearing it in the process – I palm one of the fun-bag twins until her back arches into my touch. She moans and I groan…or maybe that was Edward's car again. Who fucking cares?
As we continue to grind against each other like horny teenagers – which is what we were told to portray while staying here in Forks – Edward's car is starting to sway behind Rosie, and her nails are now digging into my back. I can hear her tearing into the back of my shoulders, my skin cracking and crumbling away, before I can feel it slowly beginning to heal. I can't take it anymore; after taking several more passes, I drive my shaft deep into her cock-pit, the sound of stone grinding against stone echoes in my ears, pushing me toward what I fully expected to be a powerful, mind-altering jizz-fest. And soon, the Vanquish's windows meet the same fate as the Mercedes'. Double whoops.
As I pump my rod deep into her, her tight little pussy starts to clench even tighter around me. The strength of her around my dick doesn't slow me at all; it actually makes me want to move faster because it feels so fucking good! So, I thrust… And I pump… And I slam into her until I feel my lower abdomen starting to tighten and a growl starts to build deep within my belly as I prepare to come inside her.
I continue to pound into Rosie and for some reason, the way our cock-gina is rising in temperature starts to make me think back to a distant human memory. It's not super-clear – that's what she said – but I'm pretty sure that in it, I learned that you can start a fire by slamming two stones together. While it should worry me, especially with the way we're hammering away at each other, I figure with no kindling around, the house is probablypretty safe. Right?
I do look around the garage, just to be safe, when my eyes land on that damn dolly and I laugh. Yes, again. I don't know why, but I really need to fuck her on that thing. Rose looks at me strangely as I continue to laugh, and it seems like she wants to ask me what I find so funny about being buried ballsack deep inside her. I don't give her the opportunity to ask out loud though before I throw us down on that damn dolly.
She's flat on her back, and I'm still pressed firmly between her thighs as she giggles. "I've always wondered what this would be like," she confesses as she wraps her legs tighter around me, almost like she's buckling me in for a wild ride. She's sweet, ain't she?
I look down at her lovingly as I move a little slower than we did against the Vanquish, testing out the mobility of the dolly before I decide we can manage it without breaking it or sending it flying from beneath us. I bet you're wondering if I was right earlier? Did the dolly move as we fucked? You bet your fine human asses it did!
Rosalie starts moaning breathlessly beneath me, each sound is punctuated by every one of my manic pushes into her. It's a good thing we're virtually indestructible, because as we move around the garage, I'm not paying attention to anything other than how her pussy feels around me. It's tight and so hot and it's creating delicious friction that rocks my entire body. Because I'm not paying close attention, we run into the tall red tool box that crashes down over us, and tools rain down on my back.
Grinning wickedly, I raise my body but continue to rock my hips. "You're tits…" thrust "…are so fu…" thrust thrust thrust "…king… HOT!" I lower my face between the two splendiferous boobs and I motherfucking motorboat the shit out of them. It's great and I don't know why it's as hot as it is, but I can feel my balls tighten in preparation of spilling my venom deep inside of her.
"Ugh!" She grunts in pleasure – well, I'm sure it's really more annoyance, but we'll go with pleasure. "You know what happens when you do that," she warns, but I don't care 'cause if I'm being completely honest I've never come harder in my life than when I let her do—
As I push my face harder into her tits and increase my motorboating efforts, she leans up, stretches an arm down beneath mine and over my back until her fingers trail down south. Some kind of ass-survival mode kicks in and my cheeks clench shut, but she insists and I relax. She teases my shit-chute with her index finger, circling it twice before she breaches the barrier. And then it's all over; I'm a blubbering mess of shaking marble flesh and limbs as I pulse and release my vampire-man-seed deep within the confines of her walls as they contract and milk me dry.
I collapse on top of her, both of us breathing deeply (and unnecessarily) and completely motherfucking spent, and the dolly breaks under our full weight. This makes us both laugh hysterically. Our laughter is short-lived though when the garage door opens, slamming hard against the wall behind it.
"What the hell did you guys do to my car?" Edward cries out, his voice nowhere near as "velvety" as his human mate seems to think it is. It's actually kind of pre-pubescent sounding which makes Rosie and I laugh even harder.
"Aaah, Eddie," I say, rolling off of Rose and sitting bare-assed on the concrete as she reaches for my torn shirt to cover herself. "One day, you'll understand the mechanics of thrust and I'm sure you and Bells will ruin a car or two… Maybe even an entire house."