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Observations of a virginal vampire

Chapter 2: On the displeasing qualities of moisture


A/N: Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc., mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without express authorization.


Overcome by his surroundings, Edward decided to head up to his bedroom.

This, however, was not so simple for Edward as it may sound. After all, it meant passing by the bedroom doors of three pairs of rutting vampires along the way.

The first was the easiest of the three. It was Carlisle and Esme's room.

Edward still disliked passing their space, of course, because at such close proximity, he had trouble fully blocking out the activities occurring on the other side of the closed door.

This time, as he approached, Edward groaned to discover that Carlisle was going down on Esme. Esme was understandably thrilled with the activity. Edward, however, had trouble with the image of his normally regal father engaged in such messy behavior. It was so... moist. Must everything drip so very much?

He shuddered and hurried past, pausing only to psych himself for his travels past the next suite in the house, which belonged to Rosalie and Emmett.

This was inevitably worse, if for no other reason than that they were so extremely loud. Even Rosalie's thoughts were loud. Edward was unable to block the "Oh, fuck me, Emmett! Fuck me hard!" that ran through her head on a repeated loop at an ever increasing volume.

Spending time in Emmett's head wasn't much of an improvement. His mind was consistently obsessed with the curvature of Rosalie's various body parts. Edward wanted to throw up a little listening to him go on about the shape of her ass, her hips, her breasts.

Did Emmett not care one iota for angles? Vampires were meant to be angular. Sharp. Hard. Yes, Edward thought, angles were clean, crisp, and far preferable to that "soft" nonsense Emmett was always going on about. He scoffed. As if a vampire could be soft.

Edward plugged his ears and dashed past their room, glad that Rosalie's mouth was at least filled with Emmett's rather thick cock as he did so. This meant Edward didn't have to deal with hearing both Rosalie's actual voice and her mind crying out for more of Emmett's impressive erection.

But seriously, again with the wet! Vampire skin was smooth as marble; it didn't need to be wet as well. Rosalie's behavior was just bad manners, all that slobber obscuring the phenomenon that was the perfection of a vampire love muscle. Bad manners indeed.

The last set of rooms, those belonging to Alice and Jasper, were the worst. Edward tried not to turn around and head back to the living room just thinking about it.

After all, Alice inevitably sensed Edward coming and would react by doing things to Jasper that made him cry out in pleasure, as if to remind Edward exactly what he was missing.

And then Jasper couldn't help but send wave after wave of lust and eros in every direction.

It was enough to make crossing very hazardous for Edward. The first time he'd done so, not knowing what to expect, he was caught with his pants down.

Edward grimaced recalling that day. Alice kept saying things like "I hope you're in the mood to do laundry," or "You might want to keep a Kleenex on hand today" throughout the morning, and as much as Edward tried to pick her brain for more information, she kept her thoughts tightly under wraps. She'd even said, "It's a good thing you're quick," which at the time made absolutely no sense to Edward. Of course he was quick. All vampires were.

So Edward was indeed surprised when he found himself paused later that afternoon outside of Jasper and Alice's door so overcome that he whipped out his cock, and stroked it furiously until he came all over his hand while listening to the sounds of Jasper moaning while Alice fucked him with a strap-on. And it was just his luck that Esme had come up the stairs soon after; Edward had barely had enough time to pull up his soiled pants prior to her arrival.

Edward had learned that day that venom wasn't the only thing capable of scaring a vampire.

Recalling this most unfortunate experience, Edward tried to recall if Alice had dropped any hints that he might be unable to get past her and Jasper's door again today. He supposed not, seeing as he hadn't spoken to Alice since the end of March because she'd been otherwise engaged in her bedroom.

So Edward guessed he was safe to pass by if he hurried and under no circumstances pulled out his erection in the hallway along the way.

He gave a quick listen to take stock of the activities going on in this most risky of bedrooms. Well, it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever witnessed. Sure, Jasper was handcuffed to the desk chair he was bent over, but at least Alice wasn't fingering him like he enjoyed so much. Edward always found that scene a little harder to ignore than he liked. Instead Alice was simply hopping about teasing Jasper with some sort of oversized fluorescent pink feather.

Edward couldn't understand why Alice couldn't ever just be still, and moreover, he was truly puzzled about why she always chose such absolutely tacky props. If Edward was the one having sexual relations with Jasper, he'd surely choose something more classy; something high quality, handcrafted by local artisans who earned fair wages, for example. Not like the sorts of ridiculous items Alice chose. Even the handcuffs were fuzzy. Fuzzy! Vampires didn't need fuzzy. Just like they didn't need soft. Or overly wet, for that matter.

Edward rolled his eyes at such ridiculousness. That said, he rather liked rolling his eyes and often did so for far less than the use of a magenta faux feather on aching vampire flesh.

So Edward concentrated on his love of the effective facial expression that was the eye roll while he began the last leg of his journey to his bedroom. And everything certainly started out okay, but he was forced to slow to a metaphorical crawl when he was hit with a particularly intense cloud of lust thanks to the fact that Alice had begun tracing along the length of Jasper's shaft with her toy.

Truth be told, the wave of emotion was nearly enough to bring Edward to a complete halt. Even as it was, he couldn't help but palm himself as he pressed on. But press on he did, determined to make it to his room. He'd come this far and as eager as he was to reach his completion, he was hesitant to do it again in the hallway after nearly being caught by Esme last time.

Of course, last time it hadn't been April, Edward realized. In April, Esme and Carlisle and Rosalie and Emmett were all quite unlikely to emerge from their rooms for several days at a time if left undisturbed. The odds were quite in his favor.

Edward stopped to consider how good it might feel to be under Jasper's influence while he took care of business.

Stopping, of course, was Edward's mistake.

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