*^*A Taste of Honey*^* ~ SoapyMayhem
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 1:
Unexpected
**Edward
Cullen**
"Mr. Cullen, there's a call for you on line one. It's your father,
Sir- he says it's urgent," my assistant announced from the doorway of my
home office.
"Thank you, Conner, that will be all for today," I dismissed
before turning away from my laptop to reach for the phone on my desk.
"Father, how are you?" I asked, concerned.
"Not so well, I'm afraid," he replied rather glumly, his tone
setting me on alert. "Doc Banner's asked me to come in tomorrow for a few
tests. The old fart thinks it might be colon cancer. I told him I thought it
was just Esme's spicy Southern cooking tearing me up, but he's inclined to
disagree and well, I'm inclined to tell him to shove the tests up his ass, but
Esme would kill me if I didn't see it through. Not to mention after your
mother…" he trailed off, knowing I would understand the reference to Mom.
It only takes one person close to you getting cancer to make you take the
necessary precautions and test regularly. We both knew too well what that was
like.
"I'm sure it'll be fine, Dad. No matter what, we'll get through it
together." It was hard to hold the emotion in as I offered assurance when
there was no way I could possibly guarantee it, but I offered it anyway - it
was what he needed to hear and what I needed convince myself of so I didn't
drive myself insane with worry.
"I know son…" he took a ragged breath before continuing,
"… also, don't tell your sister, until we know for sure. I don't want her
worrying. She has enough on her mind with Jasper away, as it is."
"Yes, sir," I agreed sincerely.
"Anyway, Esme's gonna lay off the cayenne for a while. I'm sure
that will clear my gut right up." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
"Now, I didn't call you to get you all worked up and worried about me - I
need a favor."
"What can I do for you?" I replied, instinctually using the
politician voice that came out whenever I was asked for a favor.
"Well, I was supposed to make an appearance at a high school
graduation ceremony tomorrow to present the scholarship, and I'm afraid I won't
be able to make it," he replied with a remorseful sigh.
Announcing the recipient of the Elizabeth Masen Cullen Scholarship for
Excellence in Art was something he looked forward to every year. The fact that
he was even asking me only gave me even more cause for concern, if only for the
reason that he was more worried about the results of these tests than he let
on.
"- besides, I'm sure they'd rather have a former Senator there to
present the award than little old me," he added playfully.
Having grown tired of public speaking in the last few years, I wanted to
argue that I didn't have the time, but frankly, since January - the end of my
six-year term in the Senate - I had all the time in the world. There was also
the fact that, after all he'd been through, I could deny my father nothing,
especially with these tests looming overhead.
"You don't give yourself enough credit, Dad, but of course, I see
no reason why I can't fit it into my schedule. Have Kate email me the
details," I agreed happily.
Carlisle and I chatted awhile longer before he told me Esme was calling
on the other line.
Esme was good for my father - kept him sane, sober, and well-fed. For a
while there, my sister and I believed that he was trying to replace Mom, but as
soon as we met Esme, there was no mistaking that she couldn't have been any
more different. Where my mother had been quiet, reserved, as well as a few
years older than Carlisle, Esme was brash, outspoken, and quite a bit younger -
forty-one, only two years older than me. They'd already been together a little
over six years, and Alice and I couldn't have been happier for them both.
Nearly fifteen years had passed since my mother, a highly acclaimed
painter and philanthropist, died of breast cancer. A few years later when
Carlisle had better come to terms with my mother's death, he created the
scholarship foundation in her name, to be awarded to one young artist every
year - a full ride scholarship to the Art Institute in Seattle and a semester
abroad in Italy. The competition was always tough, especially since it wasn't
based solely on the artist's talent. The winner was needed to be able to prove
a financial hardship and must have maintained a high grade point average
throughout their high school career. It was a tough scholarship, and the highly
selective requirements usually weeded out those students who didn't need the
money the award afforded or simply weren't dedicated enough to their education.
My Blackberry chimed with a new email alert from Kate Denali, my father's
assistant.
Seeing there were attached files, I turned my attention back to my
laptop so I could review all the details I would need for tomorrow's ceremony.
Mr. Cullen,
Thank you
for doing this, Sir. Your father is so happy. I'm sure knowing that you'll be
there taking care of the ceremony will set his mind at ease.
Here is
everything you should need for tomorrow. I've also enclosed a bit of
information I was able to obtain from the recipient's application as well as
her artist portfolio - which is pretty amazing, by the way. Good luck tomorrow,
Sir, and thank you again.
-Kate
Denali
Event
Details
Saint Mary
of the Sacred Heart Catholic Academy, Port Angeles
11:00 a.m.
Tuesday, June 3rd 2011
Contact:
Sister Jane Volturi
Recipient:
Isabella Marie Swan
Short Bio:
Isabella, age 18 is the daughter of Police Chief Charles Swan of Forks.
Isabella's mother,Renee Swan is deceased. Isabella has a 4.0 grade point
average and will be graduating with honors. She has participated in few
after-schoolactivities - French club, yearbook staff, and also plays the cello.
She volunteers twice weekly at the Port Angeles Children's Hospital teaching
art classes.
I sat there, stunned, thinking about this young woman and how she
managed to find time to keep up with all her hobbies, as well as maintain those
grades, and to top it off, work on her art and music. Curiosity got the better
of me, and I found myself downloading the second attachment which was a folder
filled with several image files, labeled under the filename Isabella Portfolio.
As I looked at them one by one, I became enthralled. My God, I was
shocked by what was seeing- so much raw emotion to be poured out of a teenage
soul onto the canvas. Quite frankly, I couldn't stop staring.
The moment I saw the first piece, I was determined to have one. As I
continued appreciating her work, I knew there was no question - I would own one, even if I had to
commission her to paint one for me.
Money was no object, and the fact that she was even considered for this
scholarship told me her family was by no means rich, and throwing a hefty sum
her way was likely to get me what I desired.
After presenting the award tomorrow, I would insist on speaking to Miss
Swan and her father about acquiring one of her paintings.
An hour or so later, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen to have
dinner.
I set about the task of preparing myself a meal - a piece of salmon
coated with a crisp red pepper panko crust and a lemon cream sauce, paired with
grilled asparagus seasoned with fresh rosemary, garlic, and butter, and a glass
of chardonnay.
As much as I had enjoyed having a live-in personal chef and a couple of
housekeepers when I was Senator and simply too busy to cook, I was thankful now
that I had the estate to myself.
The possibilities my newfound privacy afforded me had me a bit too
excited for my own good.
It had been far too long since I'd allowed myself the pleasure of
visiting the club - much less opening the doors to my now underused playroom.
Last Saturday night, I'd considered dropping by Onyx, Seattle's only elite BDSM
club, for the first time in years. No longer under the scrutiny of being a
member of the Senate, I was eager to start looking for a sub again, but Alice
had called last minute to inform me that Jasper was making an unexpected visit
in town and had asked the family to meet for dinner so he could make an
announcement. Alice was thrilled to announce that Jasper had not only popped
the question, but his firm had decided to make him partner in the Seattle
office, which meant he'd be moving here to be close to Alice at the end of
June.
I couldn't help but be a bit jealous that my sister had already found
true love at the age of twenty-six. She made me feel ancient, and paired with
the knowledge that I was about to turn thirty-nine next month and hadn't
managed to keep a relationship - neither D/S or vanilla - for more than a year
told me that I was likely to be doomed to lead a life of solitude.
I'd been a Dom since college, had only collared three subs, and had two
serious vanilla relationships - none of which had ended very well. Each sub
relationship had fallen apart for one reason or another, and none of the woman
I dated could give me what I needed in the bedroom.
My job hadn't made things any easier, either. Since I'd been sworn in as
Senator, I swore off having collared subs and chose to play once in a while
when I could make a trip outside of the States. I had to be discreet because my
image couldn't afford to be tainted by some gossipy sub running to the press,
bragging that Senator Cullen worked her over with a riding crop while he fucked
her ass-over-backwards in a sex swing - that imagery alone would have been
enough to give the majority of my older constituents coronaries.
Aside from hitting up an elite club in Italy a few times last summer and
twice the year before, I hadn't played much since I became a Senator.
My last relationship ended in February and was an epic disaster, lasting
only four months. I just couldn't fake it anymore; I needed something more -
control - and Tanya couldn't give me that. When I finally showed her my
playroom and who I really was, she realized what I needed, and that it wasn't
her.
After looking through Isabella's paintings a few more times, I resigned
myself to the bedroom.
The thought of returning to the club and taking on another sub had me
hard and straining against my slacks. I was so desperate to have a hot little
mouth swallowing my cock that I toyed with the idea of calling up my cousin Emmett
to see if he'd be willing to part with his wife Rosalie for the night. They
were both switches and loved to play with others - not my thing as I don't
share, but if Emmett was willing to loan her out to his poor horny cousin…
It was a tempting idea, until I remembered the last time I played with
her and how awkward I felt when I saw her at the family Christmas party a few
weeks later. With the Fourth of July coming up next month, I wasn't eager to
have fresh images of her lips wrapped around my cock flashing through my brain
while she sampled Carlisle's famous bratwurst. I chuckled to myself lightly
before slipping out of my slacks and dress shirt and into the steamy shower in
my en suite bathroom.
As streams of water cascaded down my back, I imagined myself back in my
playroom.
I'm not
alone in the dark blue room. My submissive is there kneeling, and blindfolded,
trusting me and presenting her body for my pleasure. The light pink buds of her
supple breasts are calling for my teeth to nibble them, while the sensual arch
of her back begs for the whispered touch of my fingertips. Her mouth is open
slightly, and I see her pink tongue peak out to wet her lips.
She senses
my presence, and her breath quickens in anticipation.
I circle
her a few times like a lion stalking its prey.
When I see
her parted thighs coated with her sticky sweetness, I don't have to guess that
it's my cock she craves. She's been a bad girl tonight, so I will make her
tight ass pink before seeking my pleasure inside her hot mouth. She'll have no
release, and I tell her so.
"On the whipping bench,
girl," I command darkly. She scrambles quickly over to the bench and gets
into position for her punishment.
In no time,
I have her arms bound at her sides and her legs straddling the bench. Her
sopping pussy is inches from the leather cushion of the bench, but just out of
reach for her to seek the friction she needs - the release I control, that I
deny.
Her pale
flesh in the candle light is almost translucent, and I can't wait to see it
turn pink from the sting of my palm. I remind her of the reason she is being
punished. It's not a serious offense, so her punishment isn't too severe - four
warm-up spankings and seven for punishment. She takes them, counting each one
off with a yelp every time my hand connects with her tender flesh. Her little
whimpers of pain make it seem that she is uncomfortable, but the gush of
arousal drenching my bench tells me otherwise. I tell her what a dirty little
girl she is, and that dirty girls get fucked in the mouth - this makes her
moan, loudly - so eager for my cock.
"Open wide, dirty girl"
- I command before thrusting quickly into her hot mouth. She licks and sucks,
getting me nice and wet before hollowing out her cheeks and sucking me to the
back of her throat. She takes it all so good, and I don't even try to stop
myself from pumping into her the way I want. I tell her what a good little girl
she is before shoving my cock roughly down her throat.
"Swallow" - I command
brokenly, and she does. She knows I'm about to cum so she keeps on swallowing
the way I love.
"Fuck," I shouted loudly asI tightened my grip on my throbbing
shaft, imagining the fantasy woman taking my big cock like a champ all while
looking up at me with big, innocent doe eyes. It wasn't long before I began to
cum in hot thick spurts that swirled down the drain along with the nice little
fantasy my brain concocted.
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