*Warning: foul mouthed fan-ficky language ahead. If you're sensitive, skip this post*
My body is pressed up against the wall of a glass elevator, knuckles turning white as I grip hard onto the railing feeling my knees going weak, aware of the quick rise and fall of my chest as I’m panting with desire. Jeez, how can I compose myself when standing across from me is Edward Cullen – aka Fifty Shades of “Master of the Universe” – and he’s leering at me, chin tucked into his chest, eyes looking up at me through his lashes with what can only be described as a panty meltin’ sex face. He’s looking at me like I’m something to eat. And I bite my bottom lip in nervous anticipation. Good god, I’ve never wanted to be eaten so badly in my life.
In my lusty haze I hear Edward mutter; Courtney, don’t burn my bacon.
My heads whips around looking for someone else in the elevator. Huh? Wait…Fifty, that’s not your line – that’s ColossalCockward’s line of “Million Dollar Baby”! Remember, he was doing really dirty things to me while I was cooking him bacon that one morning when I was still his sex slave? I ended up burning his bacon but he didn’t seem to mind too much.
Fifty’s sex face slowly morphs into rage face. Uh oh – he’s pissed! S***, now I really fear a flogging. My inner goddess pulls the covers over her head and begins to pray.
F*** Kitten, are you ok? Look Courtney, I know you’re eight shades of f***** up right now, but I really just want to f*** you on the hood of my car. I just f****** need you, ok?
WHAT? My head snaps up as my eyes search the ceiling and then back to the floor.
Tattward from “Clipped Wings & Inked Armor” , is that you? Where the hell did you come from? And by the way, I f****** need you too.
I feel the prickles on the back of my neck as I slowly raise my eyes from the floor, looking up at my audience. Through the mirror clad elevator walls, I see that I’m suddenly surrounded by a sea of Edward reflections staring back at me. There’s sexy but mad as hell Fifty. Then there’s my cocky little Cockward, licking his lips as his eyes scan the length of my body. And finally, there’s my emotional lover, Tattward, pressing his body flesh to mine so I can feel his um…you know. Jeez, he never cares who’s watching!
Not gonna lie; a platoon of ArmyWard might sound hot – but it’s more intimidating than Fifty’s Red Room of Pain.
WHATTHEFUCK! Why are all my Edwards in the same goddamn elevator? As Tattward slowly starts to grind against my hip, both Fifty and Cockward take a slow, methodical step toward me. One looks like a sex-face murderer, the other like a sex-face playboy as he loosens his tie upon his advance. Oh shit…how am I going to handle all three at once? Panic creeps up my throat and I begin to feel a heady mix of fear, guilt, lust, and f****** confusion.
The next thing I know I shoot forward like a rocket in my bed, panting and all clammy skinned. I push my bangs out of my eyes and look over in the dark and see my husband sleeping like a baby at my side. He lets out a sleepy fart and then I’m abruptly grounded back into reality.
Good god, what is all this FanFiction reading doing to me? I think I’m literally going crazy. As I sink back into bed and stare at the ceiling I ponder that question that’s been lurking somewhere at the back of my brain for a couple weeks now…
How many freaking Edwards are too many? Maybe I should take a break from FanFiction and, I dunno, read a real book or something.
After a good long minute I flip to my side and face my husband. I scan his face and then move down to his chest and shoulders where my eyes linger. I wonder what he’d look like with a sexy tattoo on his chest. And now I’m thinking about making him bacon in the morning. Hmm…who knew bacon could be such an aphrodisiac? Before I flip to my back again I lean in and whisper; Goodnight my Fifty -- feeling totally retarded and glad I have no audience.
As I doze off back into Armyward I answer my own question…
Nah, you can never have too many Edwards.
Meet my Edwards...