Welcome to PAD's Fandom4OK giveback compilation contribution.

Stephenie Meyer owns all Twilight entitlements.

I'm just a character having fun with hers.

This chapter is probably between the halfway to three-quarter mark of the story. If you like it please share your words. The vocal reviewer gets my pen and helps me prioritize my writing. Please let me know what you think.

For the Kindness of a Stranger

His bedside is still warm, meaning he's just woken up.

My anxiousness gets the better of me.

I can't stand being separated from him anymore and rise to see where he's gone.

Still not used to our brazen daytime activities, I hastily grab my robe and stumble into the beautiful new kitchen he's given me. Smells of fresh paint and sawn lumber tickle my senses in a happy way. A fluttery wave nudges my heart as I realize how truly blessed I am to have been granted the gift of this wonderful wanderer.

My quick appraisal of his whereabouts places him in front of the big picture-windowed sink over-looking the fully replaced now super-deluxe playscape for all of my little daycare munchkins.

He's gotten a glass of water.

My next understanding informs me that I'm a voyeur absorbing a glorious view of a birthday-suited man of about six-foot-two with a spectacular ass and a tattooed back.

He hears my slippered shuffle and turns to angle himself towards my presence.

I may be slow at this time of the day, but my mind does not miss the precarious drops of glistening, just-drunk liquid dribbling down the now abluted apple of his throat. He catches my ubiquitous ogling. The bob in his neck is like a hypnotist's watch. I can't take my eyes off of it. His wicked grin assures me he is playing to my weakness, so I know he'll be asserting his strength.

Something tells me I'm in store for some serious morning calisthenics.

As he pivots fully towards me, I see part of him has already begun its a.m. exercises.

His splendiferous cock appears to be doing jumping jacks, or maybe it's striking a batter's stance. Hell, it could even be readying for some sort of track and field events, as now it resembles a just-thrown javelin still soaring upward, nowhere near cresting.

Just thinking about it landing in my field makes my heavens part and my skies empty. I consider breaking out my rain gear –as right now I haven't any panties and can feel a steady run-off beginning to build. But where would be the fun in covering that oh-so-needful part of me only for him to remove whatever I've placed in his path? I guess it doesn't matter. It would be fun either way as long as his nimble digits are on me…or in me.

My flood plain is constantly wet around him. I'm such a strumpet for even thinking that. But I don't care. Six months ago, I couldn't even imagine fantasizing about the things I now do on a regular basis…with him...only him. Six months ago I didn't even have a home.

This selfless savior and utter stranger literally staggered into my life but has rarely left my side ever since.

He wants to play, and I so willingly want him to.

He walks over to me, sensing my arousal. He's a big, beastly savanna cat stalking its prey. I'm frozen, not from fear but from the excitement he invokes. Once he's encircled me twice, his sly, arched brow signals he's done toying; he's serious now and moves in for his kill.

He craftily pinches my satin tie and pulls agonizingly slowly, drawing then quartering my anticipation as much as he dares.

Once my robe is opened, he lets its slippery belt slither to the floor.

I am pleased to see what I can cause –meaning not only the feral effect in his eyes but the positioned shuttle proudly in place seeking my accommodating space and boasting that all systems are go-as he observes the thin strip of flesh at my front now being bared only to his eyes.

Wordlessly, he pushes the fabric over my left shoulder and brings his lips to my now stripped skin.

His overnight stubble abrades me like a lengthy loofah, but who wouldn't welcome this form of exfoliation on any given day of the week?

The ministering he offers makes me shiver but not from an early dawning chill.

His wool-like whiskers continue their assault on my nakedness, but now he purposefully inflicts torture upon me and avoids using his mouth.

His chafing cheeks are deliberately marking me –his scent spreading as would oil on water- while proclaiming to others that I belong exclusively to him.

Once satisfied, he moves his head and rubs his chin into my back, further removing my cumbersome fabric.

He's like a dog trying to nest, only instead of bunching the cloth, he's peeling it off as if he's partially burying something with his nose in my skin.

I do nothing to assist him, finding his antics not only pleasingly comical but insanely sensuous. I guess I'm his feline female because finally, he just gives up and bites the material at the end of my neck, deliberately paralyzing, me leaving dental indents on my exposed surface and making me, yipe in the process. He peels off the remaining part of the article and flicks it with his furtive feet. He does this so stealthily, I'm not even sure where it has landed.

He continues with his wickedness as he softly nuzzles the hair of his head over my back and around to my front. The slight prickle of his beginning beard now pushes at the flesh of my breasts and nudges the tips of my nipples.

"Nnnggggg."

I can't even give him a real word.

Goose bumps are erecting themselves, blanketing my skin, thus making me feel so sensitive it appears as if I'm fevering.

Right now, he has me so bothered, if he goes anywhere near my cooter, I'll find the cord to my cover-up, wrap it around his head and anchor his face to where he could do the greatest good.

"Have I worked you over enough, yet?"

"What do you think?"

My petulance rings through, and right now I feel like his pet because he's in control.

"Oh, I can't have you pouting. I'm a sucker for a satisfied Bella."

And just like that, he wraps my arms around his neck and hoists me into his chest, so I'm straddling his waist. With my legs slung over his delicious hips, I'm also presently not envious of the low-riding jeans he usually wears that routinely get to cradle this part of his anatomy. For now, I am the one that's proudly doing so. As he carries me to the bedroom, feeling so good being in his arms, I muse what's even better is that at this angle, the point of his penis is playfully poking near my pent-up pussy. In assessing my silliness, I snort, realizing I want to recite my clever tongue twister ten times fast. Edward only gives me a look of amusement and an eye-roll signaling that's he's not even going to inquire what has my thoughts so convoluted.

He knows me so well, now.

He undoes my clasped hands and pulls me upward and away from his torso depositing me with a bounce on the bed. He wears his slick smile in an approving manner, as I'm sure he does this little act just to see my tits jiggle. I spread for him, but he shakes his head in disapproval. He swirls his finger counterclockwise indicating he wants to hear me grunt on all fours, and I eagerly accommodate what he's gesturing.

I deliberately wave my ass expectantly alerting him, "I'm here". It produces the same results but in direct contrast to an unsettled doe displaying her white-tailed flag to an anxious hunter. And, judging by how anxious Edward looks now, it is safe to say he'll pop a nut if he doesn't get bustling pretty soon.

He cups me diligently where I need him. His fingers slide effortlessly through my slipperiness telling me he's back in kindergarten again pleased he's rediscovered finger painting. I can feel all of his flourishes, dips and whirls. I'd conceitedly hang his work on the kitchen fridge so all could see, remembering the ecstatic smile he'd given me when he handed me his masterpiece, also known as a slamming orgasm for me.

"Oh Bella, I love that I can build up so much pressure that you are constantly springing leaks."

"Smart ass."

Slap!

"No, I think it's an extremely sexy but sassy one."

I huff out my crotchetiness, and I rest my head on the bed.

"Edwaaaaardddd!"

I forcefully moan my peevish plea.

He's brought me close but not close enough. He knows I'm growing impatient. I think he finally gets my message as he climbs up behind me and whispers.

"I have a delightfully depraved idea."

No sooner does he say this than he grabs me by both hips and slings me like a bundle of shingles over his shoulder.

I beat his butt and pinch it a little, too, for good measure, earning me another whack on my ass.

"Edward, where are you taking me?"

My head is already light and woozy from the lack of blood flow he caused earlier. This upside-down jaunt of his is messing with my clarity even more.

"You'll see."

He opens the kitchen door leading out to the enormous wrap-around deck he fabricated. It has a stone patio, a hot tub, and a fire pit on the left end. At the other end, it leads to an immense in-ground pool with specially graded areas so my kiddies can learn to swim.

Before it even registers, we are both standing outside in unseasonably warm November weather without a stitch. Thank goodness he's erected a full ten foot high wooden fence around the backyard; otherwise, the neighbors would be getting quite an eyeful right now. Speaking of things that are erect and in units of ten, I think I needn't say any more other than every woman ought to have what this man is presently sporting.

"What are you doing?"

"I thought we could break in the playscape. This swing-set kept calling to me from upstairs. Before the kids get on them I, uh, need to know the swings will be safe."

"O-kay."

If it were anyone else, I'd say he was certifiable. I'd maybe even call my Dad and have him arrested, his being police chief and all, but with this erect stud who erects studs for a living in front of me doing all of his frisky business, I can't do anything but give in.

I just shake my head and concede. Thankfully, he opts for the bigger kid set that is higher off the ground.

"Lie down on your stomach."

And so I do.

I can hear him stroking himself behind me. In the process, he firmly grabs the swing with his left hand and brings my ass to his sight level. He begins to blow cooled air over where I'm hot for him-as if I need any more cooled air right now. With both hands now securing this sling, I'm wedged between. He positions me to his waiting mouth and swipes his tongue like a brush. He's now graduated to second grade and can use a brush. His strokes are fluid. I feel every plunge he makes into my welled vessel. He can't quite reach where I want him most, but he gets an "A" for effort.

Satisfied that he now has me thoroughly worked over enough for him, he lowers me down to the right height. His tip, teasing at my entrance, wants me begging for more like the girl who purposefully sways her pigtails, provoking the boy always sitting behind her into pulling on them. I hang on for dear life when he begins a delicious rhythm of push and pull. I don't have to see his face to know he's grinning ear-to-ear at the sight of his own attachment vanishing and reappearing as if by magic, but I certainly would have no problem with his fondness for this pastime, as he can recite incantations and wave his wand at me any time. His new punishing movements coupled with my hanging in midair produce an incredible high. The phrase" fucking-one's-brains-out" actually has a literal meaning for me right now as I'm beyond incoherent. This is incredibly fun while vivaciously sexual. I don't think I've ever been on a better theme park ride.

Again, I giggle to myself as I reflect upon the wonders of getting lost in Edward's funhouse. Never even comfortable undressing myself in front of a mirror, I'm now naked and outside with my pussy getting pummeled senselessly. I swear, if I can hear the slap of our slicked skin smacking and echoing in this backyard, I'm sure, due to sound traveling upward that our neighbors' second story windows are certainly within earshot. Somehow this realization only makes me wetter for him.

His balls are now one tightly enveloped mass just banging into my behind trying to hit the bull's eye of where he has yet to shoot his arrow, knowing as well, he'll eventually wear me down soon enough for that game of archery, too.

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him or let him do to me.

His guttural grunting is a warning, indicating he's closer than I to finishing what we've started. I need to pay attention and signal the conductor so I can hand him my ticket. Otherwise, the merry-go-round will start without me. I steady myself with my left hand while my right one finds the button that starts the music. I graze his cock while I'm trying to hit the spot. Never mind trying to hit a button, I feel as if I'm trying to grab the brass ring. My awkward position places the spot just out of my grasp. Edward senses my pending predicament and concentration difficulty and moves his hands to lock my hips into place further so I won't feel frightened over falling. His hold provides nothing but security. I would trust this man with my life, and in all honesty, he's had my heart in his hands since we first met. He truly is my super-man.

Now free to move, I rub vigorously where it's needed. If I worked at it any harder, I think there'd be sparks. The Boy Scouts could use me for their "this-is-how-you-rub-two-sticks-together-and-make- fire" demonstration. With the heat that I'm generating, I'm sure I'd be earning that merit badge. I feel the wave building. It's getting ready to crest, and my surfboard is ready.

"Oh Gaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhddddddd, Edward!"

I'm riding this one all the way to shore. I think I can see the summit of Mauna Kea from here, maybe even Honolulu.

"Oh-Bella pound, feel-so-good pound, so-tight, pound, squeeze-the-shit pound, outa-me pound, unghhhhh."

Needless to say, I think his rant pretty much summed up my experience. I'm sexed-up, sexed-out, spent, sated, silly and stupid right about now, and I can't forget sore. I'm going to be walking like I have a two-by-four wedged between my legs and up my ass for the next few days. I'll play through my pain and even smile over it because that's what he does to me.

"That was fun; can we do it again?"

Slap!

My snide goading remark earns me yet another handprint on my mounded backside as he gingerly pulls himself out of me. Someone's wincing. I think he may have even lost a little skin. I think he needs to take care of that. I can't have him out of commission that long.

"Smart ass."

"May I remind you that you like my ass?"

"Yes, it is an enticingly lovely attribute of yours, but it sometimes gets me into a lot of trouble…and into feeling a lot of pain."

"Are you calling my pussy 'Trouble'?"

"Well, that certainly is an interesting nickname to consider for her."

"Well, Trouble is going to get you into more trouble if we keep standing out here. Let's see if a hot bath won't help your boy out a bit. There's just no way that part of you can go out on comp."

"Oh yeah? What would you do if he did?"

"Well, I'd feed him chicken soup for starters."

Edward looks horrified initially but snaps back into our banter.

"Really?"

"Sure, I might even let him take a bath in some. It has some pretty potent healing qualities."

I am rolling in my subconscious fit of laughter right now and have Edward squirming.

"Um, Bella, let's hope and pray he never gets to that point, okay?"

"Okay."

Just like that, I let Edward be. I realize I can give him some disturbing visuals at times but know when to stop.

As we enter the house, I am so outrageously happy, not solely for the sex, although it has always been utterly amazing, but because he's reframed my life-but not only mine. He's reorganized the planning and the rebuilding of my entire community. He's done so much more than help us get our homes and businesses resurrected; he's made us feel safe again.

He doesn't know it yet, but his name is going on my deed, which will soon be our deed. I wouldn't even have this deed if it were not for his tenacity. I intend to keep him permanently, and I'm fairly certain he feels the same way about me.

After we take a long hot soak in the lavish, oversize corner tub he installed, and made-out a little in the process, we dried off and found our way back to the bedroom. We've had a long week, so this time to rest and reconnect was especially needed. Edward's put in eighteen-hour days most of the week getting this place ready, and I know he's exhausted.

As he lies down next to me on this extremely comfortable bed in our beautiful new bedroom, I realize that he means everything to me. Yes, I have my daycare, this gorgeous four-bedroom attached home, my family, friends, most of my neighbors and all of the kids I care for. I could have had something rebuilt with the insurance money, but it would not have been anywhere near the quality of this. Edward found my lost lottery ticket nearly three hundred miles from here and endured hell trying to get it back to me - a stranger he knew nothing about - because he felt compelled to do so. After taxes, the million dollars it was worth ended up adding another half million to what I had to work with. He and his crew's craftsmanship and free labor made this property worth double what it cost, but more importantly, they made it safe and secure enough in our tornado-laden space that I can offer round-the-clock care to kids whose parents have to work two, three and four jobs to make ends meet. Edward, the man I fell in love with the minute I met him, with big plans and an even bigger heart, changed my world.

If it were not for the kindness of this stranger, I would have never met the most amazing man whom I now know to be the love of my life.

"Uh, Bella, I was just wondering something."

"Go on."

"You care for everyone else's kids, and don't seem to get burned out. Do you think you might ever want to have any of your own someday, maybe with someone like me?"

And, there it is. His fielded question tells me he's in it, in this, with me, for the long haul. I try to maintain my composure, but it sure feels as if my joy wants to explode outward from my seams.

"Yeah, I could see myself having children with someone like you, maybe two or three of them. Of course, I'd want to keep trying until I had a boy and a girl, at least one of each."

He turns to me with a blissful fascination in his eyes.

"Seriously, Bella, you wouldn't mind having kids of your own?"

He needs to hear my words.

"I wouldn't mind having kids with you; in fact, I'd be honored. You'd make a great dad."

With that, he brings his mouth to mine and gives me a kiss that conveys all of the love he would offer me in a lifetime.

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you too, Bella."

With our declarations now intermingled with our future plans, Edward's boy stirs, and of course, Trouble just has to find him. And, truth be told, if we're going to be making babies anytime soon, there's no time like the present to get in a little more practice. If worse comes to worst, I can always make a lot chicken soup.

Next up is the beginning of the story, which begins with Edward's point of view.

A/N:

Please, be honest and candid. This was my first published lemon. What did you think?

Review me your thoughts.

Now, back to business, it was great donating to this wonderful cause.

I'm so proud and appreciative to be a part of this amazing fandom.

Kisses and hugs to Chaya Sara for painstakingly using her fine-tooth flea comb to go over this even after I made numerous corrections.

So if there are any "fleas" glaring, they are most certainly my own.

More kisses and hugs to Mist who not only beta'd but made my spectacular banner with the really awesome superimposed Oklahoma Powerball ticket image on it.

Special thanks goes to LayAtHomeMom for lending me tons of support, some of her fans, and her pre-reading eyes.

Additionally, I want to thank Rob Smut Lovers. She not only generously pre-read this, giving me copious remarks, but always leaves me breathtaking reviews and mountains of encouragement on my other stories as well.

If you want to see more of these two and read about Edward's plight in finding Bella, please tell me with your words.

I answer all reviews and PM's.

Muwah! As always, thank you for reading.

PAD