DrabblerScrambler: A Lemon

A Lemon

Today's Drabbly Babblers

AngstGoddess003

JFly/Thallium81

LaViePastiche

ElleCC

Drabble #1:

As soon as I enter the house, it hits me like a tidal wave – a combination of sweet musk and delicious pleasure tinged with anticipation.

I close my eyes and let it wash over me as she softly cries, “Mmm, Edward, yesss!”

There’s a muffled, masculine groan and then another swell drags me under. They deserve privacy, but I need her release.

I barely register my hand rubbing roughly over denim before it slips under my waistband.

Her whimpers soon reach a quiet crescendo and when the final wave – pleasure fulfilled – crashes into me, we both gasp, then sigh gratefully.

Drabble #2:

"This isn't—ARGH!"

"Sorry." She winced.

Stilling, Edward's exhale was loud. "This isn't working."

"Maybe... if you went faster...?" Bella looked to the book, which was barely within viewing distance.

Edward snapped, "I can't go any faster!" She bit her lip while he resumed his movement, eyes focused, shoulders stiff.

"Just... OH! Yeah, okay." She nodded. This was good.

"You think?" He breathed, hopeful.

She assured. "It totally works."

They assessed their curly creation by comparing it to the photo in the nearby book, The Art of Citrus Garnishing.

Edward declared with a proud nod, "That's one fancy fucking lemon."

Drabble #3:

There’s poetry to the fact that everything started in Biology class. Her body’s scent precipitated the events.

My nostrils flared; mouth watered. I jumped (too quick for anyone’s eye), hit Mike (complete accident), and she fainted over the blood (total luck!).

I lifted her without inhaling, under pretense of assistance.

Outside she roused—and so did I. The heat from her small body scalded my indelible flesh. We both inhaled, and she foolishly advanced. Anticipating the feast, I swallowed.

But then… she licked me.

Her pulse spurred me to the shadows where I went from wet lips to wet fingertips.

Drabble #4:

I am on her, over her, in her, and then she arches and I'm on my back.

My fingers tangle in her hair as she shudders above me. I give one good pull and she's against the wall.

It is a constant struggle for control with us.

It is never sweet, as it should be with lovers, but bitter. It oozes jealousy, weaves together lust and anger, wraps me in a perception of power – hers and mine.

She moans querido even as her mouth on my neck adds to my scars. I spin her, bend her, and add to hers.

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