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Tropic of Virgo

Tropic of Virgo

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Published by blue_bathrobe
I own the words and poetry, but not the music or the twilight refs. I make no profit off this.
I own the words and poetry, but not the music or the twilight refs. I make no profit off this.

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Published by: blue_bathrobe on Aug 25, 2010
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01/10/2014

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Tropic of Virgo
 
Chapter 1: Nocturnal Prelude
 
Bella:
1:00am, and the suburbs of Phoenix were still scorching hot, with that shimmering mirage thatfloats off the surface of everything in the distance, and I was determined to soak it in, one lastnight before I left for good. Mom and Phil sensibly went to bed hours ago; the house was silent. Itiptoed through the dark rooms, carrying my tumbler full of iced tea and my battered old laptopto the back patio. I set both down on the umbrella table, next to my little pet cactus. A dry windruffled my hair and wandered off, listless and bored, looking for more interesting prey to teasewith its breeze. The heat settled back in, joining the night noises of distant traffic. I felt exposed,raw, and in a dangerous mood, but I had no outlet for the frustration that raked under my skin.Perhaps that was part of why I was leaving tomorrow; not just to spend the last two years of highschool with my father, but for the fresh start it might let me have. I needed more than thissolitary chaste existence I had boxed myself into; I was tired of being the shy one, withoutfriends to laugh with, my days filled with watching but never participating.At night, I ached for touch, for hands on my skin that were rougher than my own, and a mouthagainst mine. I wanted to experience more than I even knew how to dream about.Dreams. They had gotten more explicit lately, even painfully so. Sometimes, like tonight, I knewthey were coming, and avoided sleep altogether. How could my subconscious pull me into suchcrazed images of flesh and skin and thirst? These pathetic lips had never even been kissed; howcould I want what I'd never had so badly?I traced the drops of moisture that slid down the glass, but only sipped. Renee always mixed thetea too sweet and too strong, and I could not swallow the huge gulps that I wanted, until the icemelted enough to dilute it. I caught the cool drops on my fingertips and touched my neck, and letthe water run down into my cleavage.I wanted to be someone else, someone bold: someone who didn't reek of inexperience and need,someone who could look at a boy without blushing, or who relished attention and didn't run fromthe spotlight. I wanted to be graceful and flirty, not stumbling and shy; somebody who couldspeak sexy words aloud, rather than hide her longings in awkward written phrases.Sighing, I crossed my sticky legs lotus style, and flipped open the laptop.
Edward:
2:00 am, and rain splashed down on Forks, beating a soothing white noise against my window. Itonly muffled the noise of the party raging downstairs, but every little bit helped. I was exhausted,slightly drunk, and wide awake. I was always like this when we had a good rehearsal; like anathletic workout, one was left tired and exhilarated. Emmett and Rose would drink after, Jasper and Alice would get high. I did either, or both, but usually preferred a more intimate release.
 
B
reaking Dawn's jam sessions were legendary events at school, and while our audience came for the music, they always stayed for the party afterward.Tonight, however, I just needed to hide for a few minutes. My ill-chosen flesh of the month washunting me down like a vulture on roadkill, and I hadn't yet figured out a way to extract my dick from her jaws without getting my eyes gouged out.A phrase from a song tugged at my skull; I wanted to get the lyric written down before it waswashed away with the tequila. I fired up my laptop and queued up the blog site queued up the blog site I liked, a no-frills networking site with good music streaming capabilities; I used thesite to store rough drafts with the setting set on private, rather than saving them on my hard-drive, since I lost an entire album to Tanya's temper tantrum when she'd broken it off with me inJune.The homepage scrolled in, and I poured another shot as it was loading, bumping the mouse in the process to the "this random user has your taste in music" prompt. I don't usually look at other  people's stuff, and don't invite them to look at mine, but the page belonging to Ordinary_Girlwasn't filled with fluffy bunny cartoons or anything else ridiculous, just the flags stating that shewas, in fact, female, and 17 years old. There was one entry, titled "Lemonade". I clicked.
This desert heat draws sweat from my skin,to pool between my breasts Like condensation on cool ripe fruit,The moist stain on my shirt a secret mention to another warming  Lower Your lips to me and lick the hot circumference of my fleshSqueeze the desperate juice And kiss me after, that I may taste my lemon on your tongue.
 I grinned in the dark, and toasted the screen with the shot. Ordinary_Girl wrote kinky poetry, andI liked it. On a whim, I typed a reply, letting the liquor talk though me.Acrylic fingernails drummed my door, and a familiar whine called my name; the door openedwithout my response, and Jessica slithered in. I sighed, not surprised that she had found me, andclosed the screen."Edward, aren't you going to join the fun? It's the last weekend before school starts! Junior year!I'm so excited!"I didn't speak to her, I didn't need to. I just looked at her, and waited; I honestly didn't care if shestayed or left. I won either way. After fidgeting for a few seconds, she peeled off her shirt andwalked over to me, straddled my lap and rubbed her tits on my chest. They weren't bad; still alittle too firm, but the sliver scars under each had faded. Her skin was cool and soft, pamperedwith powder. I mouthed her rubbery nipples until they stood tall, and she made a few nice noises.I wondered briefly what kind of touch would make her sweat, and tried to imagine her skin slick and salty.
 
"Edward, aren't you going to kiss me first?"Her whine was a buzz-kill on its own, even without the artificial flavored lip gloss, but I kissedher anyway, because she was unbuttoning my jeans, and it was the least I could do. I had to helpher so she wouldn't damage the manicure.She slid to her knees, and I leaned back in the chair, letting her get to work. What Jessica didn'thave in skills she made up for with sheer determination, and she sucked my cock with theenthusiasm and gusto of a toilet plunger. I closed my eyes and toyed with her hair, until it became too much. My balls were beginning to tighten, but I was worried that she was going toleave me with blood blisters; I pulled her up, and reversed our positions.Hands on her thighs, I pushed her open, and licked her wet spot with a flat tongue. She smelledlike baby powder and tasted like artificial flowers, and I was afraid I was going to lose myerection because I suddenly felt like I was fucking a plastic doll; there was no girl smell, nosweat, no passion.I wanted to taste lemons.I turned, with a longing glance at my laptop, and was inspired by the bottle sitting next to it. Igrabbed Jessica's right hand and pulled it to her crotch."Edward, aren't you going to«"I put my finger to her lips to silence her.I grabbed the bottle of tequila and swigged a mouthful without swallowing. She was makinglittle quick circles with her finger tips in an interesting manner. You can learn a lot about a girl by watching her finger herself; if she likes a light touch with a single finger high up, if she likesto shove three fingers deep« Jessica was having difficulty because her new nails were getting inthe way. I swallowed my laughter and almost choked on the liquor.I leaned over and kissed her mouth, dribbling a little between her lips. The alcohol dissolved thelip gloss, and I was able to kiss her, tongue and mouth and teeth, pulling away when the suctiononce again became frightening. I took another swig and applied the same treatment lower,washing away the taste of feminine hygiene products until she smelled human again, and workedmy tongue into her folds while she squirmed. I slid two fingers in, and pumped in time to the bass overload from the speakers downstairs, and pulled away to look at her face. Her eyes wereclamped shut, and for a second, she could have been beautiful. I love the expression on a girl'sface as she gets close to climax; no cosmetics could ever imitate that glow; all girls, even Jessica, become goddesses in that moment. I leaned in, worshipping the skin of her perfect plastic boobsuntil she came.She whimpered, one tight mewling convulsion, and then was finished. I wondered what it wouldtake to really make her scream, to have her whole body flush red, and her hips jerk uncontrollably. I stood, still holding the neck of the bottle in my fist, and let her latch onto my

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