The Encounter 33

This isn't a fan fiction piece as much as a chronicle of a dream that I experienced.

I find myself with a nondescript friend, we are chatting politely in the foyer of a mansion of imposing age and grandeur. The dark wood and heavy rugs cast seriousness on the party. Jasper Cullen is here, imitating his family and their guests, us. Some of his brothers have their girlfriends at their elbow, sipping champagne out of pretty glasses. A female vampire was getting close to Jasper; she touched his arm and smiled. I felt out of place but magnetized. My awkwardness was overwhelmed by curiosity, fueled these past days following the invitation of the mother figure who shared my class at university. Somehow she found trust in me after our working together over several projects and finding my passionate belief in what she was.

I watch as the mystery girl brushes her hand along Jasper's side and giggles something in his ear; his shirt gathers and I see a sliver of ab. My body reacts as my eyes lock onto the sight, and there is a flood between my legs as the blood rushes to my most sensitive regions. His sense of emotion picks up on my intensity immediately. The lady-friend is discarded as his curiosity at my bold stare overwhelms her affections. His thick charm glides him through the guests to engage my friend in conversation, of what nature I couldn't say. He turns his attention on me and somehow extracts me from the party on a pretense. I feel the glances of his family and note their concern and surprise. Their reclusive member finds an interest, which I gather is most unusual.

I am not sure where we are going, frankly I don't care. The concern of the coven transfers to me; I have yet to discern the words coming from his beautiful mouth. He glances at me with a gleam in his eye; a mixture of desires. Lust was apparent, of which nature I hoped for the one matching my own. He leads me to his quarters of the mansion, down long hallways and up a set of dark winding stairs that creak under my weight, the only sound in our thick silence. I am ushered through a nondescript door the heaviness of which I sense as it is pushed open. I peripherally take in the décor of his human years; war medals, uniform, sword and various sheets of paper contained in proper antique display.

I am drawn intensely to this creature, but my curiosity of the most secretive Cullen isn't completely absent. He still hasn't touched me. Jasper had led me here by his magnetism alone. My brain is yelling at me that his motives can likely be thirst. Either my hormones or his gift are overriding my survival instinct.

Having little contact with Jasper up to this point drives my desire further. I yearn to know him, to hear his voice address me. That glimpse of his solid, smooth body had changed everything in an instant. Like seeing a new color, I knew there was no going back to before.

Cognitively, I was terrified. Somehow it adds to my arousal. If I were able to think clearly I would realize Jasper was able to hear my heart pounding, see it forcing my blood through the smooth muscle of my arteries to the sensitive regions that were now aching. He can smell my arousal and feel my breath against him.

An eternity and an instant passed and we are locked by our eyes. A tangled electric current travels from his honey pupils through my being. His desire for me resonates not only through my body but vibrates through my being. My soul, my aura becomes almost visible with his pulsing stare shot through it. I briefly wonder if this is how he sees people, all shimmering aura around a transparent being.

My thoughts are a heart rhythm on a monitor. Steady, but an unconscious result of my being alive. I'm not aware of leaving my feet by the wall opposite his bed until I realize I am horizontal on the massive four-poster. The dark carved arms should be ominous yet they bring my senses to another threshold. Jasper is facing me, his head resting on his right hand; he is lifted by his elbow. From my vantage point below him I sense the coolness radiating from his body and realize in a small reflection somewhere in my brain I feel the same coolness in a handprint around my waist. I try and catch my breath after realizing it is my skin's memory of him moving me. Suddenly my green sweater seems to heighten the contrast of my red blood coursing under my heated skin. Jasper is maintaining a tense distance. I his eyes I read hesitance, second thoughts, and disbelief. Surprised, I note his uneven breath and checking my own, I am embarrassed to find that we match.

My boldness comes from a place I don't know exists, and I slide my hand under the hem of his button down, over his smooth cold hip bone, up the dip between his side and his stomach, left over his abs just above his navel. His breath whooshes over me, cooling my flushed face, smelling of sandalwood and sea air. I draw him into my being, absorbing and accepting him. I close my eyes and he is on top of me. His irises are boiling maple syrup and greet me when my eyes flash open. His lips part and a smooth rumble emanates from his chest. I don't stop my hand as it slips between buttons to find the source of vibration. I find smooth, full chest, masquerading as muscle I feel marble. A palm to where his heart would be, I feel stillness.

His eyes question my consent; I throw my lips to his neck. I feel his surprise and restraint as I throw myself with all of my meek strength at him. I am once again on my side, writhing closer to him, his silky blue shirt rubbing against me. I cling to him. I pull at his jeans, bury my face in his smooth neck. I hear his teeth clamp. For the first time his hand reaches slowly for me. I feel the cold burn travel the same path mine did on his body. My shivering reaction fuels his same primal desires. He roughly pulls me atop him, some caution gone. His jeans I had been struggling with were nowhere to be found, along with the hesitancy he was forcing on my mind. We are of one goal now.

Below me I feel silk, chaffing compared to the flawless ivory of his skin. His hands hold me, through my sweater I feel their strength, I am hovering above him. As I stare into his burning eyes he lets me slowly down to straddle his boxer-clad hips. Here I faintly register my skirt is gone. My heated and swollen lips press around him through our undergarments, I tentatively rub myself against him, bruising my pelvic bone against the marble replica of his male parts. I push off his chest to awkwardly attempt to force his erection through his shorts. He quickly lays me down and curves two fingers into the hem my lace thong, chosen with no thought of being removed, yet here they are sliding down my thighs. A sparkling clear thread of wetness connects them to me, I notice I can see through where they were rubbing against my pussy as they are completely soaked through. He is fixated, concentrating on that thread, visually gobbling its source. My panties are pulled free and he kneels between my parted legs. With my sweater still in place I feel extra naked, for the first time nervous. My sexcapades do not extend to this realm of beings. Suddenly, he is above me, his smooth cold lips are slipping over mine. I grasp at him, begging with my body. I know he is being careful, but my passion is overriding my sense. He tenderly bites my lower lip and I moan; the pressure creating a mirrored one building in my clit. He is holding himself above me, evading my yearning hips. Slowly, with a painful pace, he dives a hand under my sweater and removes bra and garment together. My hair veils my face momentarily, his hand returns to tuck it behind my ear. His cold body comes down on me, his hips pin me down. Goosebumps raise all over my skin. I writhe my upper body, my nipples hard and raised, painfully aroused. He is at once the source and soother of my painful urgency.

Our lips meet again, my moaning hits my ears. My wetness is saturating his boxers and gathering them into a tangled mess. He tilts off me, keeping our mouths together and removes them with one hand. That hand returns to my stomach, sliding down. His fingertips reach my clit, the jolt of pleasure arching my body upward and opening my mouth wider to accept his tongue. Softly, he drags upward, pulling my moisture onto my exposed clit, making it slick and raised into the air. The bud is pulsing with swollenness, his light touch building my desire and all of my focus is contained into that tiny spot. His fingers cover my pussy, fitting into the lips and cupping me. Nestled into my slit, he slides up and down and I am beside myself. Jasper I voice his name for the first time. Pleased, he pulls back and smiles as he pushes a finger inside me. The cool fullness makes me gasp and he gazes at me while exploring me intimately. His long digit rubs against the front of my pussy, finding that most sensitive place, pressing against it, drawing out more moans and another gush of wetness. I am more aroused that I thought possible; blinded by desire I beg. My shakey voice croaks out "Please, Jasper... Please..." the meek sound doesn't sound like my own. He draws out his finger with an agonizing leisure, and shifts his body above me again.

Caramel eyes locked onto mine, he pushes me legs wide, coming between them with a look of relief. I glance down at him for the first time. I have been so focused on my own pleasure I have not seen my ultimate goal. His proud cock exposed, hangs between my legs with an impressive stature and I am stunned. He catches my uncertainty and soothingly touches my cheek. At his position, I surge upward to find his cold tip with my swollen lips. I strain against him to accept his body inside me; I am nearly crying with need. The impressive head settles against my opening, and I am still. Jasper's eyes are closed for the first time, his head thrown back. His expression is indescribable. My moans and cries are silenced, I am focused on his angel's face and my mouth is open in response to his cold member sliding steadily into my depths. His eyes flash open when I tense upon him as his dick is buried halfway inside me, the stretching intense as my body tries to accommodate him. The fire in his eyes explodes as his cock is squeezed by my spasming pussy and he brings his mouth to mine to complete his sheathing inside me.

I cry out into his mouth, feeling him deep, the cool stretching a glorious sensation. Jasper's sinuous hands explore me, his palm finds my breast and the swollen apex burns against it. His fingers pull and twist, the harshness taking away from the ache in my loins. I cry out and he rolls me over, grabbing my ass and roughly forcing me down, my back arching up and I brace myself on his chest. His hands take control, I am moving rhythmically on his cock, impaling myself on this monster. His groans are a growl, his eyes piercing me as is his body. His hands roam, finding their way again to my sensitive nipples. Jasper focuses on the pleasure this reveals; I slow my hips as he meticulously pulls them away from my body, pinching hard, forcing more blood to the tips. He grabs behind them to trap the pressure and I am whimpering. The discomfort is creating a tension in my pussy that squeezes down on his now rocking hips. He pumps me up and down, manipulating my nipples, rocking my upper body with his grip on the sensitive tips. Jasper squeezes, crushes down on them with a force I haven't experienced, the pain mounts and he doesn't relent. My desperation gives way and the pain leads to a euphoria, I explode in pleasure.