The morning sun crept across my bedroom and hit my eyes, waking me peacefully with its soft intense glare. I stretched and kicked the silk sheets off of myself. I lifted the gauzy drapes that surrounded my four poster bed and put my feet on the heated tile floor. I scooted over to my massive bathroom, where I admired my perfectly styled hair and flawlessly made-up complexion before heading to the kitchen.
It was a half mile walk from my room to the kitchen where I pulled Edward out of the walk in freezer and put him on. He fit more snugly than yesterday, but I got him on fine. A knock at the door echoed through the house. It was another half mile to get to the door, so I took the tram.
It was Emmett at the door.
“Give me back my skin!” he commanded, holding out his arm with the flesh from Edward’s lower half draped over it in a dry cleaning bag. “And you owe me twenty bucks for having it cleaned and pressed.”
I shook my head. “Fine.” I swapped lower halves with him before asking him in for breakfast. I offered to cook for him, but he refused, simply taking a bottle of Parkay from the fridge and squirting it all over his hands.
We talked politics while we waited. For what, I do not know. It was so sexy the way he licked the vegetable oil spread off his digits; his long wet tongue lapping eagerly at them made me squirm. I hoped one day he’d get as much pleasure from licking me off his fingers as he did that liquid lie.
He asked me out, and I agreed. I couldn’t wait to tell Jasper on our date tonight.
My servant Rosalie came in. I hired her under the condition that she never allowed herself to become prettier than me. This posed a problem as she was always prettier than I am. Don’t even try to imagine her that way though, I won’t let you. I used my powers as a space wizard to turn her head into a paper shopping bag (I’m eco-friendly, so no plastic.) Feel free to picture that all you want.
His love of food compelling him, Emmett jumped up from his seat and took her into his rippling muscled arms. He reached into her head and pulled out a box of marshmallow cereal. I’m not the vindictive type, but the bitch needed to die, so she did.
Emmett and I kissed, our tongues dancing together like beautiful ballerinas. Then he left, and I called my friends over to help me get ready for my date.