Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The One With No Photographic Evidence

So it's been a while peeps. Lots of reasons for that, not the least of which is I was on a fucking vacation!! You know the kind, where you spend hours organizing get-togethers, building in naptimes (only to have them not nap), and trying to keep the peace between each family member. It's the vacation where you need a vacation afterwards. Or a stiff drink on the flight home followed immediately by a trip to the dayspa.

But this vacation was extra special. We happened to arrive on Friday, March 19, which any TRUE Twilight fan will know was the night of the New Moon DVD release. AND! I happened to be vacationing in the same town where the Bings reside (we used to live there too!), as well as the lovely NaughtySparkle. (Can you believe that they live in the same subdivision? That they met thru me, online, and now have frequent lattes & Details Mag viewing sessions? SO UNFAIR!) Anywho...when she realized our trip would coincide with the NM release, MrsBing immediately put together a little NM viewing party at her house for a group of us who are FANS :) A Squeee-Fest for sure. Snacks & wine & getting so see one another for the first time in aaaages. Plus, you know, Edward on the TV.

I'd like to tell you all that the evening's spread looked JUST like this. I swear.

So that Saturday night, I ditched Manntastic & the Kiddos at the beach house after dinner, put on my Chucks, packed my Twilight Action Figures & camera, & headed for the Bings. And after weeks of anticipation, of promises to snuggle on the sofa & take pics of Fun Size Edward watching his alter ego get his ass kicked by the Volturi... what do you think the five of us did on this night we were so looking forward to?

We chit-chatted. All night. With New Moon playing in the background and our Action Figures lying in a pile by the hummus just ready for poseable hi-jinx to ensue. And did we take any pictures? Did we document this momentous night of the Twifecta Reunion / NM viewing party in any way? Nope. Not one. Single. Photo.

WTF girls? All this trouble and A) you barely watch the flick
and B) you don't even take a picture? What kind of Blogger ARE YOU?

Though you might not believe me, MrsBing had put out quite a spread of nibbly bits & MrBing broke out the Reisling he brings back from his travels to Germany. And of course there were the New Moon plates, napkins, and chocolates. Some of us had our Chucks on. Or math-related jammies, not naming any names (ahem*MrsBing*ahem).

MrsBing. She serves up the very best PI ever.
Sorry, babes, this had to be mentioned. MWAH!

THESE were by far the favorite snicky-snack of the night.
Cream cheese filled Salami Roll-ups. Would make Homer proud. Mmmm.....
PS - that's not my finger. Or MrsBing's.

But what we DID do was loll about the sofa, wine in hand, candles lit, lights low, and got to talk Twilight IN PERSON. You should have heard the conversation bounce all over the place! We couldn't get everything we wanted to say & talk about out in one little night! Don't get me wrong, we did turn to the TV on occasion to make fun of Edward & Bella running in slo-mo, or to marvel at Rob's bare back in Italy. But I kid you not, we talked more than anything. This is a huge fandom, and many friendships are made online thru Fanfiction sites, Twitter, and various Twilight blogs or LiveJournal communities. More and more, ladies are finding ways to meet up with kindred spirits in Real Life. I'm just lucky that I've known MrsBing for 5 years and counted her amongst my closest before we ever fell down this crazy Twilight rabbit hole. So to get a whole night of totally geeked out Twi-talk - not just with MrsBing, but with NaughtySparkle and two other RL friends was an insane treat. To see the faces I usually only imagine behind a desktop, or read in 140 Twitter characters, or in an email was just THE best thing ever. Let's just say that one night was really not enough to adequately enjoy these funny, talented, and strong women who are wives and mothers just like me. And who are equally as obsessed with all things Twilight.

NM DVD night was epic PictureFail! So instead I offer you a look
at our dolls on the night we went to see the NM midnight premiere!

Before I go, I have to tell you one last little story. At one point during the evening, MrBing (who really wanted to watch the movie, I think) bowed out & headed to Lowe's to "look around." I'm pretty sure listening to his wife & 4 friends swoon over Edward's jaw & critique Jacob's thick neck got a bit too much. He hung in there for a good while, which is why he earns a Gold Star for being an awesome Fandom Husband. MrBing, we salute you!!

The Anntastic & Bing Chucks on 11/22 when we brought
MrBing to see NM for his first viewing. What. A. Guy.

Monday, March 29, 2010

The One Where We're Baaa-aaaaack!

Bitches, we're back. And we brought Jackson. If I'm gonna bring it post-absence, I'm gonna bring it hard. Unfortunately, Bel-Ami costume pants don't qualify. Our most sincere apologies for being away from the blog for a while. You must know that I thought about the blog on a daily basis and intended on posting, but with the Twifecta reunion came much chatting, kiddie-corralling, catching up, and [best of all] hanging with NaughtySparkle. It was such a fabulous week, but we spent more time enjoying the talks and gorgeous weather than we did at the computer. Now let's get down to business.

First of all, I want to know who is going to watch Dread for me. I used to have an unhealthy love for thrillers, the more realistic the better. Something in me changed upon having kids. There's some fucked up relationship between cervix dilation and love of horror flicks. For me, at least. From what I have read about this film, I will so sadly have to miss out. The potential for amazinglyfuckingscary is solid, and every still-shot I have seen of Jackson a la Stephen Grace brings serious quiver. How can his natural hair
not do it for someone? So, I grabbed this photo a while ago and then saw it posted again this last weekend. Only this time, I noticed something aside from the HOT. Check out the similarities between the two:

Photobucket Photobucket

Bwahahahahaha! I don't even need to comment here. I'm just gonna let you look...

YES! I almost died! Maybe, just maybe... I think I can... Totally. If I just keep Hansel floating around in the back of my mind, I'm pretty sure I will be able to stomach this flick well enough to enjoy the healthy dose of Rathbone without the fuckery that is his Twi-hair.

And, of course, he showed up at the Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Awards this Saturday. So freaking cute. NGL, that hat is not my favorite, but I am a fan of his style nonetheless. He's relaxed around kids and easy-going with them (kinda reminds me of The Gos... whoa, there's the quiver again) and was cool about getting slimed. What's not to love? There was almost a *
gasp!* when I thought he had cut his hair, then removal-of-the-hat-post-slime occured and calmed me the fuck down.


It's just ridiculous how adorable this guy is. I believe that there is quite a clean-up needed post-sliming, eh? You can sign me up for that. Right. Now.

I don't know who this chick is, nor her purpose for attending the show (and I'm not going to waste time looking her up, thanks) but I am certainly thankful that she slimed Jackson via magic and enabled hat-removal. I loooooooved KCA Rathbone.

Lastly, the arrival of Anntastic meant the arrival of a new batch of espresso beans, because she's a thoughtful bitch like that. And since I have a couple of lattes each day (for the Judgy McJudgerson's out there, they help with my sanity
and my lack of energy) a new batch of beans is heavenly. Anyhow, while I was enjoying a latte last week, a friend of ours tweeted out this photo of Jackson+coffee. So. Pretty. BUT, it reminded me of the photo that inititally peaked my j.action interest (also a Jackson+coffee shot). For some reason unknown to me, when this man holds a cup of coffee it is the equivalent to beating down the men on my Freebie list who reside above him. For reals, he's moving up.




Thursday, March 11, 2010

The One Where I Confront the Oscars (+ the Porn That was Hanky Panky)

Oh, I know I've waited a while before shoving my Oscars opinions down your throats, but here it is. You probs thought yourselves lucky enough to escape my babbling Stew love, but were you ever wrong.

This is not brand-new information to anyone, I'm sure, but I watch the red carpet for every awards show. Intently. The BingKiddos basically run amok while I criticize and rank every dress+shoe combo that steps out of a car. By the time the show begins, I have chosen the gown that I would have worn had I been born with the sick talent that is required to merit an invite to one of these ceremonies. And while I do love Kristen in the girlcrush/lemme-replace-Dakota-in-The-Runaways kind of way, I've never chosen her gown during any of my previous Red Carpet Scrutiny Sit-Down's. She blows me away every time, but some other fab woman is usually wearing my winning gown. This year's Oscars was the exception, gals. If a stylist (mine would NEVER be Rachel Zoe, btw. Skinny, pointless bitch.) ever lined up each of those gowns for me, I would have zeroed in on that exquisite number and taken it. There would be no giving that shit back, either. I would leave the VF party, fly across the pond, let Rob see it live and in person, let him take it off very, very gently, have a kickass evening, then fly back to the USofA the following morning. Once home, I'd put it back on for my daily dose of vacuuming, dusting, and making-of-the-grilled-cheese. I would never (not ever) give it back. And while we didn't get a shot of her shoes, I think it's safe to assume there was a little porn going on down there, as well, seeing as it was rumored that she wore a pair of her trusty Bally's ("Amantea" if you're wondering).

Monique Lhuillier custom-made Kristen's Oscar gown. Honestly. As though she isn't lucky enough to finger Rob's hair while inches away from the jawporn, Lhuillier designs a gown just for her. If I didn't love her so much, I'd hate her.

The girl can pose. And she has a nice little profile of her own, don't you think?

As my #1 once wrote, "it's the little things that kill." I'm gonna take that phrase and run with it here, okay? Her hair was styled in the most perfect way possible to compliment the gown. It was up and didn't distract at all. She let her eyes+gown do the talking that night. The Bally's that she loves so much didn't even make an appearance. She's sofuckingsmart. She got the little things right and it was noticed by the peeps that matter.

The carat-count on her wrist obvs would not qualify as "little," I get that. But she went the usual route (usual for her, not the rest of Hollywood) and kept the jewelry minimal. I am glad that she didn't choose to go completely bare, as this H.Mendel Marquis bracelet was an insanely elegant and fitting accessory for the occasion.

These two pals looked amazing together & was so glad that they were paired up for their turn on the stage. You can see that they genuinely care about each other and I imagine it was extremely comforting to their nerves to present together. Tay looked niiiiiice on Oscar night, no?

Now, the above photo would provide a beautiful segue into Lautner's Oscar-wear. But I have a couple of other things to address, instead. So I'll simply say bravo! to Taylor for making a fuckhandsome choice and leaving the shine-factor to the golden statues.

Miss Anna made me pretty happy on Sunday, showing up in a gown that I thought complimented everything about her in such a lovely way. I love it when she wears pastels. I know she's so freaking pale, but her complexion is flawless and her skin tone is so creamy and I really think she does herself a favor when she chooses something as light and sweet as she is. So this Elie Saab gown was obvs perfection for her. Her gown held my attention for about five whole seconds, however, before it was lost to her clutch. Fucking stop. right. there. I loved it so much. (Side note: My grandmother worked in a Judith Leiber boutique for
years and I used to spend hours- literally- just staring. So I'm a little partial to a Leiber clutch, as I was always allowed to admire them, but never ever touch them.) And my fave dress of Kendrick's happened to be the one she changed into for the VF party, a sweet (there's that word again, I know, but I can't help but use it when referring to Anna. Can you?) little mini. This is also an Elie Saab, but from last year's Spring collection. You know how I feel about this. And she chose the same shoes that rocked the SAG Awards, those 5-inch Sergio Rossi's. Are you freaking kidding me? LOVE.

Uh-oh. Kendrick accessorized her Saab gown with Leiber's Mini Garden Gate Minaudiere and completely killed me. I want.

Helloooooo, Mr. Saab. My name is MrsBing and I love your handsome little man-face and the magic you make when your imagination takes hold of fabric. I would totes appreciate a little number that I might be able to do my household chores in. Please consider. Thanks.

Lastly, having zero to do with the Oscar's but everything to do with Stew love, I am sure you have already seen last night's Leno episode. If you thought that Kellan's CK cock-talk was hot, take another look at this. We may as well be watching porn. Seriously.

Tell me what went through your mind while she was ripping those tissues from the box. No, wait. Because Anntastic and I were thinking the exact same thing. Holy hell, could her legs be any longer? MrBing is gonna DIE when he sees this...

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

The One With The One-Shot Wednesday & an X that JUUUUST Hits the Spot

Once again, by the time I post this, it'll probably be Thursday. But at the moment, it's technically Wednesday and I have an insanely hot One-Shot Wednesday to rec to y'all.

This gorgeous one-shot was written for the Perv Pack's Smut Shack's Officer & A Gentleman Contest and won the Reader's Choice Award. I read it back during the contest & have just been waiting for the perfect time to rec it on here. In the midst off all the Oscars, Remember Me, Runaways, Bel Ami, Eclipse Trailer, etc. excitement, I thought this would be the perfect time to rec a fantastic short story to our readers. If you're looking for a little something to read before bedtime without the commitment multi-chapters & waiting for updates, give this lovely piece a try.

In Semper Fidelis by Ilsuocantante, Edward is a deployed Marine who surprises his Bella on their anniversary. It's a one-shot, which means it's not a lengthy story, but Ilsuocantante paints enough of a backstory & builds the characterization in a way that you immediately fall in love with this particular ExB. She's strong, he's devoted, they're both deeply in love with one another. He surprises her, there are lemons, and other lovely treats. The writing is beautiful. Descriptive without being too wordy. It conveys the couple's fiery passion, tenderness, and strength that are a direct result of their situation.

I cannot cannot cannot recommend this story enough. Go read and fall in love with this pair yourself. Fall in love with the author's writing (she's got lots of other fantastic stories, too!). And if you do read it, be sure to leave her some love down in the reviews.


Now, as you all know there's some other fun stuff going on out there too. Oh say, Remember Me (premiering on FRIDAY!), 90 Seconds of Eclipse debuting online tomorrow morning (!), and hopefully more set photos of Bel Ami Rob showing up. But there ARE some, uh, things going on with OTHER Twi-cast members. Shall we take a look at what Mr. Lutz has been up to? Hello X spot.

Stay tuned tomorrow for Twi-fecta's post-Oscar breakdown. We're still swooning. Don't forget, The Stew will be on Leno tonight.

PS - A HUGE thank you to all the lovely ladies who contributed to my Birthday Post. You've no idea how much it meant. Merci mille fois!

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The One Where :) Shows Up In Abundance

I will be the first to acknowledge that it is beyond fucking annoying when people add :) to the end of every sentence. I try to keep my :) use to a minimum. I promise, I do. However, if you know me, you can attest to the fact that I get pretty :)-heavy at times. Before you get all judgy-bitch on me, allow me to explain.

MrBing travels some for work. The longer he is away, the longer I go without ass. Obviously. (I'm only a h00r for Rob and j.action, you know.) ;) The longer I go without ass, the more :) I use in my emails, texts, and messages. They so annoy me and the moment my fingers hit the : and ) keys, I want to immediately backspace and erase those little fuckers (right after I gag myself for being so familiar with those keys). It's a vicious cycle that I cannot help. :) Near the end of a fairly lengthy work trip for the hubs last year, one of my best friends and I were chatting via Facebook. He politely asked when the fuck MrBing was coming home because the abundance of :) was getting out of control. I'm telling you, the longer he's away, the more ridiculous it gets. :) While I cannot completely curb the :) use that comes with lack-of-ass, I have found a few things that lessen the :).

After months of obsessively checking the 100Monkeys site for tour date/location updates... they are FINALLY scheduling for the east coast! :) It's on. They have yet to announce when they will be in my city, but I know it's on the horizon. And just seeing close(-ish) cities on the books gives me feelings in the ladyplace because I just. cannot. wait. Maybe I'll hop along to one of the scheduled venues if the :) get too crazy...

J. action keeps the :) at bay for only so long.
Staring a little too closely at his jeans, forearms, and dimples brings the :) right back...

Modesty patch talk has helped the :) much these last few days. And he says handcuffs. And ball sack. :) Seriously, if that man runs his fingers through that head of hair one more time (whilst giggling), I swear I will never use another :) again. Beautiful.

omg can you pretty please imagine assisting in the creation
(and placement) of this infamous modesty patch? I'm dying!

PremiereStew is also remedy for my :) problem. Particularly the AdventurelandStew, all decked out in Herve Leger by Max Azria (+ Burberry shoes to seal the fucking deal). This pic makes my :) problem better 90% of the time.

Kristen's dress, shoes, hair, AND makeup at this premiere were crazybusiness hot.
She didn't win that ELLE Style Award for nothing.

Shoeporn. Shoeporn solves all problems, didn't you know? And until I get ass once again, I'll probs be staring at these beauties. Otherwise, you'll be seeing a lot more of our pal :).

These are the Burberry (Riveted Court) beauties that Stew wore with that ridiculous dress shown above. I also threw in a shot of the Choos-That-Never-Were. When I feel the :) are getting really annoying, I'll pull these shoeporn pics and convince myself that : and ) are not even an option.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The One Where We Wish Our Anntastic A Best-Ever Birthday

About four and a half years ago, I dragged my exhausted ass to the local Gymboree in hopes of meeting someone as sleep-deprived and clueless as I was. Instead, I was lucky enough to make friends with a few gals who decided to start a weekly playgroup. We met every Friday and switched houses, and the kids rolled around on the mats (they were just learning to sit) while we talked and traded tips and snacked. This is where I met Anntastic. At first, we had the firstborn in common. We were brand new to motherhood and had no idea what we were doing. Gradually, the eight of us became really great friends. Cheese alert: we formed a pretty amazing bond, lifelong and genuine. Two of our eight have moved away, Anntastic being the first. It was SO hard to see her go, but there was no way in hell that I was accepting it. I harassed this woman until she realized that the ~1200 miles between us was going to mean nothing. (And you'll have to check with her, but I'm fairly certain that I still harass her.)

About a year and a half ago, I was sitting around Barnes& Noble when I received a text from her that suggested (maybe demanded) I read the Twilight se
ries. If I'm going to be honest, I believe she may have included a threat. True to MrsBing form, I held that shit off for as long as possible. When I finally gave in (reason listed in my intro, if you recall), OH LOOK OUT the harassment going her way fucking quadrupled. I had questions, concerns, and theories about the characters and the storylines, and when I finished the series I wanted MORE. As though it weren't enough that she helped me through the rough newborn patches and the warring toddler phases, my girl accepted my Twi-love (no judging from her!) and led me to Midnight Sun. I still wanted more. Enter fanfic. Oh holy hell, I had no idea what was coming my way...

One day, Anntastic called about a blogsite idea: Twi-fecta. She had done some brainstorming, come up with this brilliant idea, snagged the site, done the research, EVERYTHING. She created this fucktastic site, ladies (and some gents), and worked hours upon hours upon hours (equaling days) to perfect it. She is amazing.

Today is a pretty special day. It is our dear Anntastic's birthday. And I think that today is the perfect day to let her know how fucking much she means to so many people. Anntastic, I am sending my own birthday sentiments to you via mail, so as not to scare our readers away due to all of the LOVE. :) However, I'm not the only person that thinks life would suck without you. NaughtySparkle put together a little something for you just for today. You impact lives all over the place, sweets, and she wanted to show you how much we all love you. Think of this as your very own LoveDay, bb. *mwah*
--Please leave your wishes to the birthday girl in the comments section of this post. Thanks!

A little something created for you by Amcas.

Just a couple of fuckhawt collages. By Amcas, of course. :)

A little erotica, thanks to Masen_Cullen.

VitaminR sends unicorns your way. Go get 'em!

Your biggest fan says happyfuckingbirthday, love.

You can also thank Amcas for these kick-ass avi's.

Now for the lemons... Anntastic, your amazing friends compiled a o/s and a roundrobin just for you. Are you ready?

A Juicy little Lemon Drop for you by:
Annanabanana, Bellasunderstudy EchoesOfTwilight, Ilsuocantante, JadedandBoring, Pkitten21, TFX, and Uhyesplease because we love you so!
So, can you guess who wrote which part?

As I entered the kitchen, the sight I was confronted with stopped me in my tracks. My breath caught in my throat as I looked at Isabella standing before me, in nothing but the button down shirt I’d worn the previous night. Her hair was piled high on her head, allowing me to trace the delicate shape of her neck before sliding my gaze over her body to her tight little ass and down her shapely legs.
My heart slammed against my chest as images of the previous night flashed through my mind, and I stifled the embarrassing groan that threatened to slip from my lips.

Taking a deep breath and running a hand through my unruly hair, I tried to gain some semblance of composure before I crossed the room to stand behind her. Placing my hands on either side of her hips against the counter I leaned in, pressing fully against her, completely in heaven at the way her body felt against mine.
"Good morning, Isabella," I whispered before taking the shell of her ear between my teeth, nipping gently. "You look very nice in my shirt . . . "
"Mmmm . . ." she moaned, pressing her ass into my groin, eliciting a hiss from me. "Good morning, tiger."
I moved one hand to her abdomen and slowly began to slide it up toward her perfect breast, trailing kisses down her neck as her head fell back against my shoulder.
"Hmm . . . As much as I love seeing you in my shirt," I murmured against her skin as I cupped her breast, brushing my thumb over her tight nipple, "I believe I would like to see you out of it."
Without another word, I took Bella's hand and led her down the hall back toward the bedroom.

The click of the bedroom door closing seemed loud in the hushed space, but her body colliding with the door as I pressed her against it was louder. Her moan in my mouth reverberated through my head as her taste barreled through me, and then I was moaning into her. Her hands were in my hair, tugging me further into her, twisting and tangling our legs until mine was nestled between her thighs.
"I need you," she murmured against my mouth as she rubbed herself sinuously over the thin cotton covering my thigh. I could feel the damp heat radiating from what I knew was her naked pussy, and I groaned.
I pulled back. "You look so fucking hot in my shirt, baby," I growled. "But it needs to come off."
I began undo each button deliberately until the fabric hung like curtains over her breasts of its own volition. I ran my hands from her cheeks, warmed silk under my touch, down the elegant column of her neck to her shoulders, slipping the fabric off the delicate slopes with one smooth movement. The fabric gathered at her wrists, effectively trapping her hands.
I leaned forward, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth and releasing it with a smirk.
"Bella," I began.

Her breath hitched in her throat and I breathed in deeply, her delectable scent filling my nose. I'm not sure I could restrain myself from her even if I tried.

However . . .

I held onto her trapped hands and guided her to the bed, my eyes drinking heavily of her aroused state. When the bed hit her behind her thighs, I pushed her up to sit on the edge, her hands still restrained in my shirt. "This is about you, Bella, just enjoy.”

I could hear her moan deeply in her throat and I settled myself between her legs. She moved her hands a bit; I wasn’t sure if she was reaching out to push me up to her face, or down to her gorgeous pussy, but I clucked my tongue twice and she stopped struggling.

“You’ll get yours, I promise. You can pay me back later.” I released a cool stream of air across her glistening lips. Although her hands had finally quit moving, her hips bucked in response. God, she was so fucking beautiful like this.

I let go of her hands, moved my head in line with her right knee and placed a soft kiss on her supple skin. I continued up her silky smooth leg until my nose bumped her outer lips. Her body jerked at the contact and she moaned again. I could hear her breathing continue to quicken, every few pants replaced with a whimper.

“Edward, please…”

"Please what, Bella?" I teased, her answering moan of frustration only serving to excite me further. I spoke against her slick flesh, letting the vibrations from my voice add another layer to the sensations making her arch her back and clutch at the sheets.
"Is this what you want?" I trailed my tongue slowly up her lips, smiling at the unintelligible whimper the action elicited.
"Or this?" Slowly, so slowly, I circled around her clit, never quite reaching it, knowing that the tiny fraction of distance between where I was and where she wanted me was more torturous than if I had been across the room.
I grazed my hand along her thigh, feeling the smooth skin jump and tremble with every inch of progress my fingers made toward her sex. Bella's hips writhed, trying to get closer to my mouth and my touch, and I placed my other hand firmly on her stomach, pinning her in place.
"Not until you tell me what you want, love," I insisted, letting the air of my words wash over her. My fingertips teased the hot crease between leg and hip before I tucked my arm under my chest, my hand right where we both wanted it.
I needed to feel her, sink into her with my fingers, the way I was aching to do with my cock. But I'd meant what I said: this was about her.

"Please . . . I want your fingers in me, Edward," she breathed quietly as her hips sought my hand.
I didn't make her wait any longer; I couldn't wait any longer. I slipped two fingers into the wet warmth while I tasted her again with my tongue, and the sound she released, something like a gasp, a sob, and a sigh mixed together, was the only thing that kept me focused on the rhythm of my fingers as I pumped them slowly into her.

Flicking her clit with my tongue, I pressed my fingertips into the sensitive flesh inside her, and her muscles fluttered around me. I needed to feel her come apart around my fingers, under my mouth. I needed to hear my name gasping from her lungs until she couldn't speak for the pleasure.

I hummed against her soft pink skin before telling her what I wanted. "Talk to me Bella; let me hear what I do to you . . . please."

A loud groan rumbled out of her throat, shaking her body slightly, and I returned my mouth to her delicious body, only doing enough to drive her insane with the soft laps of my tongue and the slow twisting of my fingers. I would work her into a frenzy if that was what she needed to talk to me.

"Oh, Edward . . . I – I – " She stopped speaking for a moment when the sound of my name falling from her mouth caused me to hum happily against her slick skin again. "Oh Jesus, fuck! Edward, make me come. I want you to make me come with your mouth and fingers and then I'm going to come on your cock."

Finally she was telling and not asking. My dick throbbed, impatient to make good on his part of the order. I redoubled my efforts, sucking on her swollen clit and fucking her with my fingers until I felt her whole body begin to shudder. I added a third finger and pressed my free hand against her lower abdomen to steady her erratically rocking hips.

With one last cry, her fingers gripped my hair hard and her body spasmed around me. Her legs wrapped my head and her pussy clenched violently around my fingers as her back stiffened into an arc above the mattress for many beats of her heart. I couldn't count time watching her, but I could feel the thrumming pulse coursing through her body, count the racing beat of her heart.

That was me. I did that.

I was so enthralled with my handiwork that I had almost forgotten the last part of the request I had worked out of her. She had not only wanted me to make her come with my mouth and fingers, but had wanted an encore with my cock. I stiffened to a near painful level at the thought of being buried inside of Bella.
I slowly slid my wet fingers from between her legs as her body seemed to be riding out a never-ending wave of her orgasm. Pulling my body upright I quickly positioned myself at her entrance and glanced up at her face for confirmation she was ready. Before my eyes could even meet hers she had already gripped my ass tightly in her soft hands and pulled me into her.
The sensation of Bella's wet pussy wrapped around my dick momentarily stunned me, and my body was in overload. I could still taste her in my mouth and my fingers were slick from working her into a frenzy only moments before, and now my cock was enveloped in her as well and the thought made me groan against Bella's shoulder. Her hands moved from my ass and wove tightly into my hair, pulling my mouth up to hers.
"Didn't I tell you I wanted to come on this amazing cock of yours?" She asked, her breath warm and erratic against my lips as her hips lifted up to meet my slow descent into her.
I nearly whimpered at her words. Even in my lust-raddled state the fact that the tables had now turned did not escape me. I had worked Bella to such a state of need that now my body was begging and pleading for the same release.
I slammed into her with more force and speed at her moaned request. I watched as Bella's arms reached behind her head and grasped the headboard firmly. Her eyes flashed open and the deep chocolate pools burned with desire and intensity.
"I said harder, Edward." Bella used the headboard as leverage to anchor herself to rise to me harder. "I want you to fuck me, now."
I attacked her lips hungrily, both from desire and fear. I worried one more delicious dirty word from her mouth and I would come right that second. I buried my cock deep in Bella's pussy, relishing the moans she released against my lips. We moved together faster and deeper with each thrust.
Bella began to tighten around me slightly and I knew we were both on the cusp of unraveling. "Touch yourself," I instructed, my voice rough with need.
I titled my head down to watch her hand and the sight of her finger moving against her skin above my cock sent me over the edge. Bella tightened around me as my name fell from her lips repeatedly. I came deep inside of her while her body rocked and shuddered around me.

My legs went weak with the force of my orgasm and I collapsed against the bed resting my knees on either side of her hips and my hands above her shoulders. Both of us exhale in short gasps from our exertion. I look down at her beautiful face and can’t help but smile at the beauty beneath me.

I’ve always considered her the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, but here, now after we’ve shared ourselves so completely, she is beyond description. The flush of her cheeks, the fluttering of her eyelashes against her creamy skin, the smile curving her lips – pure satisfaction. I wouldn’t have her any other way.

Shifting slightly, I rearranged our bodies so she was nestled perfectly against my side, her head resting on my shoulder. My fingers tangled in her hair and I listened as her breathing deepened and she fell asleep.
These moments, these quiet moments when we were wrapped around each other, were the moments I lived for . . . Making love with Bella, talking with her, spending days doing whatever we chose to do - everything we did together was the most amazing thing we did together.
"I love you," I whispered into her hair before falling to sleep next to the woman of my dreams.

Ducky and Stick Go Camping, More or Less – by SubtlePen
Rated T

Years of animosity, a group camping trip, two childish nicknames, and maybe something more. AH, BxE.
“Why do you have to be such a bitch, Swan?”
“Why do you have to be such an asshole, Cullen?”
I felt the lump on my head and realized I was bleeding. Before I knew it, I was in tears, wondering why in hell I’d agreed to come on this damn trip, anyway. Everyone else was coupled up, and none of them had to work as late as Cullen and I, so we were stuck riding together.
“Let me drive for a while. You’re going to kill us.”
I’d worked a twelve hour shift at Newton’s, and was in no position to argue with him. “Yeah, alright. Just, don’t fuck up my truck.”
“As if it could get fucked up more? You don’t even have a decent stereo. And where’s this magical GPS you told me about?”
I pulled slowly onto the shoulder and threw the fan-folded paper at him. “It’s called a map, assbrain. Besides, I thought you knew where we were going?”
He opened the passenger door and got out, slamming the door behind him. I slid across the bench seat, lifting my legs over the gear shift and draping my jacket over my chest like a blanket. He climbed in the driver’s side and slammed that door, too.
“Jesus, Cullen, I know it’s an old truck , but it’s all I’ve got. Have a little respect for the ride.”
“Thirty year old piece of shit behemoth.” He threw it into first and killed the engine when he tried pulling back onto the blacktop.
“Christ. You can’t even drive a manual, can you? You’re gonna owe me a new clutch after this trip.”
He turned the engine over and slipped the clutch so long I could smell it. “You know what, Swan? You…”
I cut him off. “We’d be in your pretty little sparkly Volvo right now if it were big enough to haul more than my purse, and you weren’t so worried about getting it dirty, so spare me the complaints and be glad your little puss-mobile is home safe in daddy’s garage.”
“Such a manly response, Stick. Your machismo dazzles me.”
I fell asleep to him muttering about stupid childish nicknames and showing me ‘a real stick.’ The next thing I knew there was a horrible bump and my head bounced off the side window, jarring me awake.
“Jesus Christ, Edward, what the hell are you doing?”
“We’re going camping, Ducky. Did you forget?”
“Stop. Calling me. That.”
He smirked, obviously proud to have once again resurrected my least favorite nickname. I rubbed my eyes and looked out into the blackness, but didn’t see anyone else, no welcoming campfire, no tents, no one else we had arranged to meet, no cars, no …pavement? “Where the fuck are we?”
He threw the now crumpled and half-torn map at me and yelled. “Ask your fucking GPS!”
I stared at him, dumbstruck, my mouth hanging open, waiting for him to laugh or something to let me know he was kidding.
He wasn’t.
“You’re completely serious, aren’t you?” The tone of my voice was dead calm.
He tried to throw the truck into reverse and ground the gears. He took a deep breath and tried again, gunning the gas, but the tires just whined as they spun. I could see mud flying up from the wheel wells.
“What did you do to my truck? This isn’t Emmett’s Jeep, you know. It’s not exactly built for four-wheeling.”
He ignored me, switching to first gear, and tried again. Same result.
He put the truck in neutral, nervously pushing the gear shift from left to right, over and over again. I reached over, turned off the engine, and pulled my keys out of the ignition. We sat there without speaking until the dome light clicked off, and then we continued to sit silently in the dark.
“Where are we, Edward?”
“I’m not entirely sure.” He refused to look at me, staring instead out the driver’s window.
“Okay, let’s try this again. How did we get where we are?”
“I thought I missed the turnoff we were supposed to take, and then took the next dirt road hoping to find an easy place to turn around. Apparently, I succeeded, but not in the way I intended, okay?”
“And the bump that woke me up?”
“Boulder, tree root, pothole, sasquatch. Who knows.”
“You stupid, goddamned, idiotic…” I knew he wasn’t stupid. He was brilliant, really. He was probably just as tired as I was, working at the nursing home as many hours as I worked at Newton’s, saving every penny for college. I threw the passenger door open and stepped out into an ankle-deep mud pudding. Cursing, I leaned down to see if we were high-centered on something, or worse, but the beam of my flashlight didn’t reveal anything devastating. As far as I could tell, mud was the only thing holding us back at this point.
I trudged out in front of the truck, shining my flashlight in all directions, and all I could see around us was winding overgrown one-lane dirt road, trees, and stars. I looked back to the truck and could see the light from his cell phone display illuminating his face. Did he really think he’d have bars out here? He’s awfully dense for someone so annoyingly boy-pretty.
I stared up at the sky and did the only thing I could that would make me feel better. “Fuuuuuck!”
I looked back and saw him shut off his phone, and drop his head back onto the headrest.
I took a deep breath and walked back to the truck, opening the driver’s door and giving him a shove.
“Scoot over so I can get us out of this shit hole.”
“Do you really…”
My death-glare shut him up.
“Have you already turned around?”
“So, presumably, that,” I said, pointing forward, “is the way we came?”
He nodded. “More or less.”
I started the truck and put it into first, easing off the clutch pedal just until I felt the wheels start to slip, then pressing the pedal back to the floor. The truck rolled back slightly to where we started, and I quickly repeated the process, slowly rocking us forward and back in the little trench Edward had gotten us into. With every forward roll, I gained us a little more momentum, until we were finally free. I smiled to myself, but Edward never said a word.
Several minutes later, I looked over at him, and he had a strange look on his face.
I nodded, letting him stew over whatever it was. Half an hour later, we were still on the same godforsaken road, when I finally found something close to a clearing where we could pull over. “I’m tired, it’s midnight, and I have no idea where we are. We can try to meet up with everyone else tomorrow. I need to sleep.”
He looked at me blankly as I made my way to the back of the truck and opened the camper shell and tailgate. The first thing I noticed was that our cooler had tumbled over at some point, and my sleeping bag was soaking in a puddle of half melted ice.
“Son of a…” I pulled as much of my stuff out of the mess as I could, chucking soda bottles and food back into the cooler, then scooping up fistfuls of ice and doing the same. Edward pulled the cooler out and set it on the ground, then helped me try to mop up the rest of the water with some rags.
“We don’t have a tent.”
“I don’t know about you, Stick, but I’m sleeping back here. Even if we had one with us, after all this, I’ll be damned if I’d mess with a tent.” I went back to the cab and pulled out the blanket I kept behind the seat for emergencies. I had a first aid kit, a couple of quarts of oil, several liters of drinking water, a folding shovel, some antifreeze, toilet paper. Things that come in handy if you’re stranded. Like, now, for instance. I sat on the tailgate, kicked off my muddy shoes, unrolled my RidgeRest, wadded up a spare shirt for a pillow and told Edward to put the cooler in the cab. He could sleep up front for all I cared.
I heard him move the cooler, then his footsteps stomping off down the road. I figured he must have needed a potty break before bed, and I realized that sounded like a pretty good idea. I sat up and pulled my shoes back on just in time to see him walking back onto the road from the tree line. I reached my hand out for the flashlight, and took off in the opposite direction. He didn’t bother asking. I had the TP tucked under my arm, and the shovel in my other hand. I took care of my business and made my way back to the truck, only to find he’d closed the tailgate, was sprawled out and already snoring, half on my RidgeRest, half on his own, with his sleeping bag thrown over his legs. His bare feet were sticking out. I fought back my smile.
I stood there for a minute, debating the most heinous way to wake him up and show him the error of his ways, when I realized I didn’t have the energy to follow through. I peeled off my jeans, pulled on some ratty sweats to sleep in, climbed in and pulled the camper hatch closed. I shoved him over as gingerly as I could, rearranging his limbs so I could lay down. It took more effort than I thought – he’d apparently bulked up. There was considerably more to him now than the ‘Stick’ I’d known since kindergarten. I curled up small, tugged my blanket over my head, and prayed for sleep.
Hip hurts. Shit shit shit. Straighten. Cringe. Hard! Truck bed. Oh yeah. Cullen. Woods. Lost. Roll over. Adjust blanket, tuck. Scratch boob. Warmth on my face. Snuggle. Arms around me. Deep breath. Nice. Warm. Boy smell. Skin. Scratchy-soft whiskers on my forehead. Snuggle. Sooo Comfy.
I sat up with a jolt, hitting my head on the camper shell ceiling. “OW! Motherf…” The instant chill of being out from under the covers only added to the sudden splitting pain in my head.
“Jesus! Bella?” He bolted upright, too, just shy of hitting his own head the same way. He pulled me to him in some instinctual protective maneuver, knocking me off balance, and we both fell backwards with an oof.
“Goddamn it, Edward, get your filthy hands off me!” I pushed his hands off my waist and scooted back as far as I could, which wasn’t far given our cramped quarters.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I rubbed the top of my head with one hand and winced. “You – you were all over me! In my sleep! I was sleeping and you – you - !” My other hand was waving frantically in the air between us.
“Oh holy… this is ridiculous. Are you shitting me?”
“And look at you!” He was wearing black boxer briefs and an old tee shirt, and nothing else. “You’re practically naked!”
He laid back and rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. “I sleep in this Bella. I can’t sleep fully dressed. All I did was take off my jeans. I was sleeping. You were sleeping. It’s cold and damp. You rolled over towards me and it’s cold. I must have put my arm around you to keep us warm. Calm down.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. It made sense.
“Why do you have to be such a bitch, Swan?”
“Why do you have to be such an asshole, Cullen?”
“God.” He shook his head, exasperated.
I gently touched the rising lump on my scalp and it felt sticky. “I think my head is bleeding, Stick.”
He started to sit up again, slowly. “What? Seriously?”
I nodded.
“Come here. Let me see.” He clicked the flashlight on and patted the mat in front of his crossed legs. His bare, slightly hairy, nicely muscular legs. I closed my eyes and scooted closer, flinching with his initial touch, even though he was incredibly gentle. “Shhh. Hold still.” He carefully ran his fingers through my hair, lifting it section by section around the goose egg, looking for a cut. I whimpered when he found it, and pulled away.
“Ahh!” Hot tears leaked from my eyes.
“Shit, Ducky, okay. Let me think…” He pulled of his shirt and leaned through the sliding window into the cab. I heard him fumbling with the cooler, and ice sloshing. I looked up and got the shock of my life at the sight of him wedged through the window, with his bubble ass and long legs pointing at me, toes gripping the bed of the truck for leverage. He scooted back through, with his shirt wet and balled up.
“Here,” he said, holding the cold, drippy shirt wad out to me. “Ice. It’s more of a scrape really, not a big gash or anything. It only bled a little. The ice will help with the knot on your head.” I watched his hand absently rub the angry red indentations on his abs from the track of the slider window, and felt my face heat. I took the bundle from him and pressed it to my head, wincing. The tears flowed anew.
“Oh, sweetie baby, shhh.” He scooted around me, parting his legs and pulling me against his warm, hard chest, wrapping his arms lightly around my shoulders. “Does it hurt that bad? Do you have any Tylenol or anything somewhere?”
I sniffed, squinting my eyes. “I’m okay. I’m just really – I’m tired, and we’re lost and it’s cold and I’m pissed and don’t know why I’m even here, and I’m cold and sleepy, and you’re being nice to me and I don’t want you to be nice to me and you’re warm and you smell good and you hate me and for years you were horrible and now you’re not, and I’m mad.” I sniffed again and choked back snot and tears, appalled that I’d just word vomited all that, praying that he hadn’t heard the last two thirds.
“Ducky. Look at me.” His fingers were warm on my face.
“I hate that. Do you even know what it means?”
“Emmett used to call you that, years ago, when we were all little.”
“Dad made him stop.”
“Why? It’s cute!”
“Because some ugly ducklings don’t turn into Swans. Some just stay ugly ducks.” I sniffed again, choking back more snot.
“Oh, Du… Bella. I’ve never thought of you like that. I just assumed you didn’t like it because it was cutesy.”
“So why would you call me something you knew I hated?”
“I don’t know, Bella. It’s what kids do. I just think of you as Ducky now, after all these years. I honestly never meant it to be hateful. Maybe annoying now and then, but never hateful.”
“Really?” I wiped my nose with the butt of my hand.
“I’m sorry, Ducky.”
I sniffed again, a tiny smile plumping my cheeks. “Accepted, Stick. I mean Edward.”
“So. Stick? Like beanpole?”
“Still? That was, like, fourth grade or something.”
“A couple of years ago I decided it still applied.”
He laughed. “Why?”
“I thought you had a stick up your ass. You were always calling me Ducky at the weirdest times, and it never made any sense, and I couldn’t figure out what on earth I’d ever done to deserve it from you, and I just decided you were still Stick.”
“Oh, Bella.” He shook his head, sadness marring his face. “I mostly called you Ducky because I saw you as this sweet, soft little thing, something fragile, something to protect.”
It took a minute for his words to sink in.
He cupped my cheek in his palm, and I thought I’d never seen anyone so beautiful in my life as him, right then, half asleep, hair every which way, chewing on his bottom lip like the shy, sweet boy who’d been my playground friend so many years ago. When had that changed?
“You’re not that duckling, Bella.”
I felt tiny puffs of his breath on my face. “What?”
He took the sopping wet shirt from my hand and pushed my damp hair back, away from my face. I watched his eyes travel over my face, a beautiful, soft smile on his lips. One hand still cupped my cheek, the other traced my jaw with the backs of his fingers. I was suddenly keenly aware of our position, with me sitting between his spread legs, my side pressed tight against his chest.
His kiss stole my breath before I could finish saying his name. It was slow and warm, soft and hard, wet and teasing and just right. I tilted my head and he kissed me again, more urgently, but still soft. There was power behind the kiss; need, but not domination.
He wasn’t taking, he was asking.
I pulled back and he instantly closed his eyes. I could feel my pulse throbbing in the goose egg knot on my head, but I ignored it. I ran my hands up from his elbows, across the curves of his arms to his shoulders, to his neck, grazing my thumbs on his collarbones and throat, then lightly over his jaw to his ears and finally into his mop of bronze-brown silk. He opened his eyes and searched mine. I could see doubt, and insecurity, and it made me sad. I knew he was afraid it was a mistake to kiss me.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Kiss me again.”
Happy birthday, dear Anne! It has been a wonderful pleasure getting to know you, sharing porn giggles with you, and finally meeting you! I hope you have a wonderful day, and a fabulous year! Xoxox!

Last but not at all least, a made-with-love playlist by NaughtySparkle, the mastermind behind this gift.

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