Entry for Public Lovin’ Contest
April 2010
Hosted by Beegurl3, JandMsmommy, Lovingangels07
Summary: How do you keep love exciting? Rosalie and Emmett have been together for a long time. This is the story of how they keep their love alive and sparking.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, though any original storylines are mine.
A heartfelt thanks to ms-ambrosia and LightStarDusting for reading and much needed Beta services, you ladies are just wonderful! I really appreciate your time and help x Also, additional slobbery kisses to ms-ambrosia for that fuckhot banner above. There is nothing she cannot do.
-OO- -OO- -OO-
“Ready, sweet cheeks?” he whispers.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, slugger!” she answers despite the butterflies deep in her belly. They look at each other from opposite sides of the room like conspirators.
“OK. Let’s do this crazy thing.” Emmett reaches over to the iPod and in a moment, their favorite music permeates the room.
If you start me up, if you start me up I’ll never stop
If you start me up, if you start me up I’ll never stop
He looks back at Rosie and she’s perfectly still, her hands on her hips and her eyes closed. He knows that she’s getting into the game, and he does the same; adjusting his costume, breathing deeply.
Seeing her in this funky get-up is definitely working for him. The shiny black vinyl is ridiculously tight, exposing and concealing at the same time. It covers her from top to toe but clings to her in all the right places. The Catwoman mask covers the top half of her face, little sharp ears pricking up adorably against the backdrop waterfall of thick blond curls cascading down her back.
Jesus H Christ, he thinks, Eartha Kitt never looked this fucking edible.
I’ve been running hot
You got me ticking, gonna blow my top
If you start me up
She lowers her chin and lifts her eyes slowly. She gazes at him through her lashes, an eyebrow quirked at his appearance. She knows his body like the back of her hand but goddamn it, she never tires of looking at him, even in this ridiculous ensemble.
She smirks as he adjusts his Batman mask.
“Think they’re ready for us, big boy?” she asks quietly, her finger lightly tapping out the jerky hot rhythm on her thigh. Her excitement seeps huskily into her voice.
“They won’t know what hit them, doll-face.” he answers, reassuring her that he’s right there with her. His eyes are glittering gems set within the ebony vinyl mask.
Just one step takes him to the desk, and he flicks open a laptop. It’s almost showtime, and an audience awaits them. He glances at her just one more time to make sure she’s alright before they start and receives a business-like nod in return. She’s in the zone. He’s grinning like the village idiot.
Turning back to the laptop, Emmett expands a window and clicks it to life. He’s looking at an image of their bedroom, the bed massively looming in the foreground. He can see that many of the usual suspects are already lurking, and a flame of excitement licks its way through his gut. The visitors are quickly aware that the feed is now live and immediately there’s an influx of messages and requests. Emmett ignores them all, knowing what they want and what he and Rosie are eager to provide.
You make a grown man cry, You make a grown man cry
You make a grown man cry, Spread out the oil, the gasoline
He looks over his shoulder at Rosie and she’s by the bed, waiting for her cue. That costume fucking rocks. He takes his time, hungry eyes sliding effortlessly over her smooth curves. He has no idea how she gets her superb ass into that thing because it’s like a second skin; it looks painted on. When he catches her eyes, he can tell she’s been ogling him in the same manner, and the intimation makes his cock pulse against the hard plastic codpiece. Emmett’s had a semi all afternoon waiting for this moment and it took twenty fucking minutes just to get this goddamn suit on. He hopes she likes it.
Rosalie knows she’s been caught staring, and she doesn’t care. She wants to lick him from ankle to crotch; that fucking suit is just so sexy. She loves the way it tightens across his shoulders, the awesome cut of his deltoids and his strong, thick neck; she knows the sensation of tightening her thighs around it and the memory makes her skin flush. She’s so horny she can barely stand up straight. His shoulder moves slightly with the beat of their song, and she suddenly wishes she had a pole to dance on because she’d totally dry hump it right now just to get some relief.
“Let’s go, Batman.” she says. It’s not a request.
The sensitive microphone picks up her voice and Emmett hears a chorus of excited pings as their audience springs into action behind him. He slowly steps into view; the camera picks up his entry into the frame and he’s all hulking black vinyl and cape. The pings stop, momentarily stunned into an eerie silence. Emmett’s presence is huge, but dressed as Batman, his presence suddenly becomes massive. He fills that costume with menacing grace. He walks until he can see himself framed in the camera’s window and extends his hand.
“Catwoman. I see that you received my invitation. How good of you to come.” He inflects a bit of innuendo, just because he’s that kind of guy.
I walk smooth, ride in a mean, mean machine
Start it up
Rosie’s outstretched arm comes into the frame and she gives him her hand. He raises it to his mouth and skims his soft lips over her fingers. Her nipples almost punch holes through her costume at this light touch, his warm breath washing over her skin. For a big man, he can be incredibly delicate.
A pinging frenzy erupts behind them from all over the internet, the army of voyeur geeks now on high alert. Catwoman is in the house.
“Batman. Have you called me here to beg forgiveness for your dastardly deeds?” she purrs, stepping in towards him.
Hanging onto her hand, he flicks the tip of his perfect pink tongue ever so slightly in the groove between her knuckles. He blows warm air across the moistened trail, watching her skin break out in goose bumps. He adores that she takes this role-play so seriously.
“Why Catwoman, you’re trembling... I will allow you to pat me down to illustrate that I carry no hidden weapons.”
He’s trying to keep the smirk off his face, but it’s all ham at this point. He’s counting himself lucky Rosie’s not laughing out loud.
Rosalie takes his ham and doubles it. She extricates her hand from his grasp and runs her palm along his forearm up to his shoulder. She steps around him until she’s right in front of the camera. She knows it’s trained on her back as she arches against him, pushing her shiny vinyl-clad ass right into its field of vision. The pinging intensifies and she can almost hear a collective gasp from the ass-merized voyeurs with a direct feed into their bedroom.
Bringing it home, she lovingly caresses her own butt and then extends her middle finger into the cleft, effectively flipping her audience an upside down bird in lovely sharp relief against the black vinyl. They lap that shit up and the message pings go off the scale. She’s curious to know what they’re all saying about her little show, but in front of her is her Batman. The choice is easy. They’ll read the chat feed together later… much later.
If you start it up, kick on the starter, give it all you got
She straightens up and stands behind him, hands roaming over his back. He’s broad through the shoulders and she follows the bands of muscle courtesy of strong McCarty genes, maintained with years of football. He’s a big guy, and a solid one, at that.
Rosalie’s hands explore his shoulders, then dive under the Batman cape and beneath his arms, moving slowly over his chestplate. This costume is fucking awesome and Catwoman’s pussy is steaming up a storm as she fondles it.
Somehow, Emmett manages to stand still as she searches for his concealed accoutrements, his cock now at full attention and digging itself painfully into the unforgiving codpiece. He’s almost sure that it’s jumping around in there, keeping time to the rowdy beat.
Ever aware of the watching eyes, she grabs him firmly around the chest and lifts her leg, sliding her thigh along the outside of his and he groans, flexing into her.
“Damn Batman, I can see that you’re standing firm on allowing me to search you.” She’s totally hamming that shit right up, grinding herself into his ass, jerking like Mick Jagger as she dry humps him from behind. The girl’s brought her A-game.
She sneaks her hands into the gap between Batman’s pants and his molded chest plate and dives down along the V of muscle below his hard belly, fingernails parting a path through his short and curlies. Emmett grunts as she yanks it and he imagines that all the voyeurs are wincing right along with him because most of them know that Catwoman’s a merciless bitch.
If you rough it up
If you like it you can slide it up, slide it up, slide it up, slide it up
Rosie scratches her nails through his coarse hair, carefully avoiding the weapon she’s supposedly come to find, and evades Emmett’s grasp by ducking under his reaching arms. Feeling very frisky, she drops to her knees in front of him, accompanied by the soundtrack of the pinging direct message symphony. The nerds are almost crawling through the screen in their desperation to get closer to the heat of this insane action and she’s relishing her complete lack of self-consciousness in playing this exhibitionist game with Emmett.
She reaches under his waistband again, and ever so slowly peels his Batpants over his hips and down his butt, leaving them tenting over his erection, still encased by the plastic codpiece. She looks up at him with that damn mask on, her eyes all coy, blue and wide. The tent pulses in front of her, literally aching to get closer to her face. She pulls down the front of his pants with a popping flourish, releasing his throbbing cock, and it’s so stiff that it slaps hard against his belly.
“Holy gobstopper Batman, are you going to beat me with your truncheon?”
Her eyes are smiling up at him as she kneels in front of his swollen cock. The frantic pinging melds into a continuous flat line as the voyeurs all rush to enter their appreciation of her humor into the chat feed.
Emmett’s answering smile blinds her; she knows that he loves it when she’s a smartass. The tip of her tongue parts her pretty pink lips and, in typical Catwoman fashion, she claws her hands into his butt cheeks. She plays up to his intense glare and watches his eyes get heavier as her tongue finally makes contact with the underside of his dick. She’s licking it leisurely, like a cat lapping at cream, from his tight balls all the way to the swollen taut head.
Don’t make a grown man cry
Don’t make a grown man cry
My eyes dilate, my lips go green
She’s a mean, mean machine
His breath quickens and he’s groaning, head lolling back. Rosalie keeps her hands on his ass but her mouth is all over him. She’s licking and nipping his sensitive skin like it’s smeared with her favorite treat, Nutella. Emmett doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands, so he rests them on his hips as she finally encircles his cock with her hot mouth.
Emmett looks at the camera and his face erupts into a ridiculous grin. He’s standing with hands on his hips while Rosie kneels in front of him. He notices that the pinging has completely silenced, and it’s obvious that there are lots of occupied hands out there, watching the hottest Catwoman in history suck the Batdick. He feels like a total sex god.
Rosalie’s tongue is working around his engorged length like some kind of charmed snake. She’s making him feel so damn good that the gathering pull has already started deep down in his guts and he can feel the intensity building with a steady flow. She hums, and the reverberation against his moistened dick is extraordinary; it’s like a hot, vibrating sheath has just been slipped over him. He’s not going to last at this rate and tries to let Rosalie know that she needs to stop right now because he’s going to pop his cork early, just like when they were teenagers with sweaty hands inside each others’ pants for the first time.
“Honey...” he whispers, but Rosalie’s already on the case, knowing his body as well as he does. She senses his tells and slows her assault, licking her way off his dick and flicking the underside with her tongue for good measure. She’s tapping her fingers along to the music, beating a tattoo on his thighs where her hands rest.
Start it up
If you start me up
Give it all you got
Emmett gently helps her up and kisses her hard on her moist mouth, she’s warm and so tasty. Rosalie smells sweet, like a sun-kissed garden. They’re performing this act in front of complete strangers, these moments are all about the two of them, and the games they like to play to spice things up now and again. He loves her more than the day they married, and they know each other like halves of a whole. There is nothing he won’t do for her, and he knows she feels the same; it’s been demonstrated time and time again during their life together.
Rosalie’s hand creeps to the back of Emmett’s neck and she’s pulling him down to the bed with her. She’s laughing at the look on his face, which is warring between sorrow at leaving the confines of her fabulous mouth and delight at the prospect of getting into her pants, even though he knows he’s a shoo-in for that job.
You got to never, never, never stop
Slide it up
They stumble backwards, Emmett’s legs tangled in his lowered pants. Rosalie pushes him down onto the bed where he lands over his spread-out cape and they both register the renewed intensity of pinging emanating from the little laptop. The voyeurs are on the home stretch and rooting for the Batdick. Rosie rises off the bed, hooks her fingers into her waistband and starts to pull down her super-tight pants.
Emmett watches entranced as she stands with her back to the camera, swaying her curvy hips from side to side while lowering her pants over her rosy ass. She’s commando under there, and the glow of the monitor behind her shimmers on the fine blond curls glistening between her thighs.
He could stare at the little gap at the juncture of her legs all night; the one where her thighs round out in such a feminine way before cutting back in to the crease of her groin. She’s so lovely, her shapely legs in soft dark relief against the luminescence. He’s so happy that she doesn’t obliterate all the downy soft hair like some women do; he wants her to look like the woman she is and not like a child when he makes love to her, which is often.
Rosalie watches his appraisal of her body with delight, and as soon as the black layer is off she turns toward the camera, slowly unzipping the jacket of her costume. She takes a step towards the desk until her torso is framed in the screened window, and teases the lapels over her chest, lightly caressing the tips of her fingers over smooth, round breasts. The raucous pinging becomes intermittent, like they’ve forgotten how to type with one hand.
“Wanna scratch a kitty’s ears, Batman?” she purrs with a smirk, and Emmett is sure that half of the voyeurs go out right then with brain aneurisms and Joker grins.
Turning back to Emmett, she shrugs off the jacket and now stands perfectly naked in front of her husband, perky like her Catwoman ears. She crawls over him until they are mask to mask, and she licks his lips while her hands crawl up underneath his chest plate. She gives his nipples a harsh tweak and he man-squeals into her mouth, both of them grinning like idiots.
You make a grown man cry
Ride like the wind at double speed
Dragging her hands back down his body, she positions herself over his thick cock and takes a look at the camera over her shoulder. Rosie holds steady in a crouch over him, hands braced on his chest and her toned thighs keeping her weight off him and on her feet instead. The frame is well placed; her ass is a perfect peach over Emmett’s prone body. He’s watching the window under her arm, both of them anticipating the sensation of coming home. Emmett’s hand creeps in between them and he watches his own fingers graze Rosie’s pussy, gently parting the soft hair until he can feel the dizzying heat. Both of them moan at the contact and that’s it, he has to have her right now, and if she doesn’t get him inside her this second she’s going to completely fucking implode like that house in Poltergeist.
Emmett closes his large fist on his dick and strokes it against her, concentrating on capturing the look on her face right now; she is completely blissing out. Rosie’s eyes are veiled and her lips parted, she’s exuding heat like a radiator. His eyes flick to the laptop and he watches himself position his dick directly below her, waiting for her to take the next step when she’s ready.
She feels the tip of his cock nudging the exact right place and slips over him slowly, involuntary groans forced out of them both. She’s so wet for him that the first down stroke feels like heated velvet, an excruciating pleasure for both of them.
She stops short of taking all of him into herself and looks back at the screen once more, just in time to see herself lifting again, leaving him glistening wetly in the dim light. The sight is so staggering and erotic that it almost stops her heart.
I’ll take you to places that you’ve never, never seen
Start it up
“Oh God Em... fucking love you...” she exhales, forgetting all about Batman, and the camera and the act, and just feeling full with him inside her because it’s where he belongs and where they reside together, always.
And then she’s moving in time to the music, still crouched over him so that she has this incredible control of the wax and wane of her body as she impales herself on his cock. Again and again she slides over his slick length until her thighs are trembling with exhaustion; the effort of keeping herself poised like this above him is monumental, though the angle is fucking incredible.
Emmett’s hands have been cupping her soft, warm breasts as she rides him, and he’s watching the fusion of their bodies with hooded eyes. He senses that she’s about to fold, and smoothes his palms over her quivering flanks, coming to rest on her ass. She takes his cue to change their position and relaxes into his grasp as he manhandles and flips her onto the bed so that now he’s between her thighs, his hands cupping her face and his feet still tangled in his pants. His cape is falling around them in gentle waves and he flicks it to the side so he can see her beneath him.
“You’re everything baby, you’re everything to me, oh... shit Rosie!”
He’s breathing the words and his love right into the crook of her neck while he drives into her pussy like a battering ram, their bodies slapping together soundly.
Her upturned face is flushed and hot as she feels him grinding against her most sensitive place. She’s whispering ‘…right there right there right there oh right there...’ and her breath flutters on his ear like a confetti of kisses. He’s desperately pushing just the way she likes and she opens her thighs a little wider so he falls perfectly on her sweet spot, and then she feels it winding up her gut, spiraling through her, warming and then scalding her with glorious release as she’s pushed over the edge by the force of her orgasm.
Love the day when we will never stop, never stop, never stop, never stop
Tough me up
Never Stop, never stop, never stop
Emmett loves watching her come and he raises himself on his elbow so he can observe her enraptured face. The mask looks so enticing and mysterious on the face he knows so well; her mouth is open and she draws back her lips, harsh and broken moans falling from her like prayer.
You, you make a grown man cry
You, you make a dead man come
You, you make a dead man come
Then it’s Emmett’s turn, and he’s not holding back at all. He’s letting her have all of him as he grabs a handful of her ass and holds her to him so tightly that it’s like they’re melding together, moving to the same beat, riding the same wave. He can feel her still contracting around him as he spills into her with incredible intensity, grittily expelling her name against her smooth throat.
They pant into each other as their intertwined limbs gradually relax and slowly, once more, they become two. Rosalie’s fingers are tracing light circles into his hair and Emmett’s skin breaks out in goose bumps. He raises his face to her and kisses her gently on the lips. She’s salty and sweet, a perfect combination of fulfillment and promise. He suddenly feels quite protective of her, and when they separate, he hovers over her, shielding her from the camera’s view.
The pings now sound like microwave popcorn, irregular and sparse, tapering off. Most of their visitors are at the mopping up stage.
He raises her hand to his lips, then lays it back against her breast.
Wanting to get to the laptop, he stands and immediately lurches forward, his feet still tangled together, slamming himself gracelessly into the desk.
“FUCK!” he mutters, slightly winded.
He reaches the laptop just as Rosalie raises herself on her elbows; he can see her all disheveled and sexy as hell in the frame behind him. She’s grinning as he goes to close the window.
“You sure put out the cat tonight, Batman.” She says, smiling widely.
“I had to do something kitten, it was on fire!”
Their laughter resounds long after the window has closed.
