Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or the lovely characters. The words are mine. Rated M for adult content, strong language, and sexual situations and references.

a/n: And now for something completely different. Give Edward a chance; you just might like him.

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So here's the deal. I am completely, irrevocably, and entirely in love with Edward Cullen. Always have been, always will be. And, it's verging on pathetic, but I'm totally okay with that.

We grew up three blocks down the street from one another right here in Forks, Washington. I'm a year younger. Edward's sister Alice and I are the same age. And, as far back as I can remember, we were thrown together for play dates and what not.

Alice and I have always been close – friends by virtue of our mothers' design. Now, she's probably my best friend, and I can't imagine my life without her. But Edward and I, well, that's something different entirely.

On my first day of mother's day out – Edward was a one-year veteran by then – I was crying uncontrollably. I'm an only child you know. Not good when left alone. That's okay, you can say it: spoiled senseless. I never stayed with a babysitter either. But that's another story altogether.

So back to mother's day out. I was under the slide at recess, crying just like I said. Alice was nowhere to be found. I discovered later that she'd peed herself during naptime and was getting cleaned up by the teacher, but I so didn't tell you that.

Edward found me and rubbed a chubby finger along my cheek, catching the tears. Of course, that only made me scream louder. But then he proceeded to take a handful of grass into his little fist and shove it into his mouth, smiling wickedly. Edward Cullen ate grass for me. And how can you cry when you're snorting and laughing uncontrollably because this silly, amazing boy has just ingested a fistful of playground grass on your behalf.

Well, I couldn't. And we've been friends ever since.

The years went by and I was always just as close to Edward as I was to Alice. And they would fight about who got to have me over because we couldn't play together of course. So some weekends I'd spend Friday night at the Cullens with Alice and then Saturday night with Edward. We learned to share. And it was perfect; I had two best friends. But then I fell in love with one of them.

I could never let him know, of course, because it would undoubtedly destroy our dynamic. And I really liked our dynamic.

We had this satisfying brother/sister relationship that morphed into this brother, but now I secretly love you, but I'll settle for being your sister relationship. Because, let's face it, you take what you can get. And our friendship was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

And we were virtually inseparable, Edward, Alice, and I, clear through grade school, junior high, and right on into high school. We had our own little group. Sometimes Emmett would join us, when he was in between friends or phases or whatever. Oh, did I mention that my Edward has a completely delectable fraternal twin? Well, yes, he does.

But my life centers on Edward. And we shared everything, confided in one another, brother and sister, best friends, just like I said. And I heard it all.

Edward Cullen is amazingly attractive, drop-dead gorgeous, perfectly sculpted, deliciously formed. Need I go on? And every girl wants him. Literally – every girl. He can take his pick. And believe me, he does.

And I get to hear about all his exploits in sickeningly full detail after the experience. And I love every minute of it. It's kind of like watching a train wreck I think. You know you should look away; it's not good for your sanity or wellbeing, but you just can't get enough. You're drawn to all the gory, delicious details, and you just keep craving more.

It's unhealthy, I know.

But I like living vicariously through the experiences of all those other insanely lucky girls. And part of me can't help but think, too, that his willingness to share those most intimate details with me had to count for something, right? I mean you don't talk about your sex life – your maddeningly active sex life I might add – with just anybody. So I maintain that there is something significant about his choice to so thoroughly confide in me.

I always insert myself into the scenario of course. I've spent hours, days, weeks, imagining myself with Edward in every possible way. The details he's provided about his varied experiences only add supplementary realism to my fantasies.

And there I was; it was a day just like any other. I was sitting in English, it was the first grading period of my senior year, and I was thinking of Edward. Frankly, it was a little difficult to maintain my concentration with Mrs. Davids droning on and on about the division between Puritanism and Romanticism in Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter, but I managed.

But then Jessica Stanley turned around and dropped a note on my desk. We're friends, but not. Neither one of us likes the other very much, but we're both what you could call popular, and we end up at all the same social functions. So we're friends out of convenience. We're cordial, and gossipy, and catty, and sometimes, after a drink or three, we're even sickeningly sweet to one another. Everything a fake high school friendship should be.

I opened the note. Parents out of town this weekend. Party at my place. You in? xoxo.

She glanced back at me and I nodded. Sure. Why not? But the idea of a party at Jessica's brought up memories that began to turn my stomach. And looking at her flowery scrawl – she dots her "i's" with hearts for God's sake! – only heightened my revulsion. I crumpled the note in my hand, but it was too late. The flashback started.

It was spring semester our sophomore year; Edward was a junior. And Jessica threw a party. We went together: Edward, Emmett, Alice, and I. And that night Edward added Jessica Stanley to his ever-growing list of sexual triumphs.

I heard all about it, per usual. I went home with him after the party after all. I spent the night curled up on his sofa, listening as he recapitulated the experience in vividly revolting, sinfully delicious detail. Like watching a train wreck, remember?

I'd seen them making out in the kitchen by the keg earlier that evening. He had her pinned against the wall and his hands were all over her. It was vomit inducing. But, of course, I watched as he pretty much humped her shamelessly against the wall in plain view of all the other party goers.

And then they disappeared. Edward told me later that she'd led him to the downstairs guest bath. Couldn't even make it upstairs to her bedroom? I'd teased. No. Evidently not. And he'd fucked her right there on the bathroom counter-top. She was loud. Edward liked that, and I filed the information away for personal use, should the time ever come that it might prove useful.

And I listened, completely enthralled, as he recounted the story. And then I fell asleep on his couch, imagining myself on the edge of the bathroom counter, legs wrapped securely around Edward Cullen's waist, as he fucked me senseless. Pathetic. I know.

And there, seated in English doing my best not to pay attention, I let my thoughts drift to the countless other Edward sex stories that I keep catalogued away for just such a daydreaming occasion.

Yes. It's a masochistic tendency. But I can't help myself.

He had sex with Jessica again last year. In the back seat of his car in the parking lot at school no less. And after hearing all about – from both Edward and Jessica this time around – I again wished futilely that it had been me.

Then there was Lauren Mallory – another back seat lay. Damn, that Volvo has seen some action.

And Tanya Denali, the freakin Russian exchange student that graced the halls of Forks High School with her bleach-blonde presence for a mere three weeks last spring. But that was more than enough time for Edward man-whore Cullen.

And Kate Anderson. Her family had hosted Tanya. And I'm still not quite sure how Edward managed that, but he did, and I savored every mouth-watering detail.

And then there was Rosalie Hale, perhaps the most bizarre of all of Edward's sexual choices. And not because she isn't insanely gorgeous – she is. Rosalie Hale is supermodel-esque. She's 5'10", 115 pounds of pure blonde, wet dream-inducing, totally enviable good looks. But she's pretty much an unfeeling bitch; she definitely has the ice-princess routine down. Or maybe I'm just jealous. I admit that's totally a possibility.

But Edward had gone over to hang out with her brother Jasper and ended up banging Rosalie in her frilly canopy bed.

I listened in disbelief as he filled me in. "Wait, let me get this straight. You fucked Rosalie Hale?" He'd only smiled devilishly in response. "But why?" I continued. In retrospect, it was a pretty stupid question, and he'd chuckled, shaking his head.

"Bella, Bella... Are you really asking me why I might possibly want to have sex with Rosalie?"

I said nothing; I just sat there on his couch with my mouth hanging open.

"Seriously," he continued. "Consider it this way…think of the hottest, most attractive guy you can imagine…"

Okay. Done. He's sitting right next to me.

"And tell me that you wouldn't have sex with him, no questions asked, should the opportunity present itself."

Yes. Okay Edward. I would. In an instant. Are you offering?

So maybe it wasn't so odd that Edward did Rosalie. I mean, they're both inhumanly beautiful. Hell, I guess I'd probably do Rosalie too if my, um, preferences were different. And you already know my feelings about Edward.

But what was so weird about the Edward/Rosalie situation was that, like two minutes after it was over, Emmett and Rose were an item.

Edward didn't seem to mind. And Emmett couldn't have cared less that his girlfriend had slept with his twin brother. For some reason, I think that would bother me. But I don't have siblings, so who am I to say? And, judging from the way Alice is currently lusting after Jasper, the Cullen/Hale interrelations could get a lot more interesting. But don't let me get sidetracked.

So I was sitting there, absentmindedly jotting down notes about Hawthorne's obsession with guilt and his focus on sin. And, all the while, I was scrolling through the list of all the girls lucky enough to sleep with Edward Cullen.

Jessica Stanley, Lauren Mallory, Jessica Stanley, Tanya Denali, Kate Anderson, Tanya again, Rosalie Hale… And those are only the ones I know about. Who knows how many more he's added this year while he's been away at school. I shudder to think. Oh! And did I mention Bella Swan? Yes. That's right. Add me to the list of his insanely willing, incredibly enthusiastic, exceptionally pleased conquests.

It happened a month ago. Summer was winding down, and just days later Edward would pack up and leave for college, much to my perpetual chagrin.

The evening had started off like any other Friday night. Alice, Edward, and I had gotten dinner at the diner, cheeseburgers and fries, like always. And then we returned to the Cullens' to begin our typical weekend of debauchery. Neither of us had expected it to happen, but I can't complain.

Alice had left us alone, retiring to her room to talk on the phone. She'd devised a plan to lure Jasper over the next afternoon with the promise of a pool party. And she'd wanted to work out the details and confirm her guest list. But it wasn't odd that I'd spent the night in his room. I'd slept there hundreds of time.

Of course, Alice would never have left me there alone if she'd known what would happen. Her best friend fucking her brother was probably pretty high on her list of things that she'd rather not have to deal with. Alice knew that'd I'd crushed on Edward on and off over the years, but she had no idea the extent of my infatuation.

Later, while I was lying naked underneath Edward, my legs wrapped tightly around his slim waist as he thrust into me like I'd always envisioned, I heard Alice running water in the bathroom, and I couldn't help but wonder what she'd think if she only knew…

Of course, in hindsight, the gentle, rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall and the noise of our obscenely loud breathing probably clued her in, but that hadn't occurred to me at the time.

I'd tried to stifle the rather embarrassing sounds escaping from my lips by turning my head and burying my face in one of his pillows. But he'd pulled it away.

"Bella, I want to hear you."

Just remembering those words sent shivers down my spine, and I was suddenly very wet. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Shit. Not now. It was already pretty fucking difficult to listen to what Mrs. Davids was saying.

But the sound of Edward's voice, all low and raspy, and so damn sexy... And his breath, warm against my ear, smelling sinfully lovely of cigarettes and peppermint... He'd almost made me cum right then.

And I totally considered texting him that very moment. My panties are sopping wet just thinking about you in English… But I'm a fucking wuss, and I'd obviously never actually do that. But I could…

I closed my eyes though, and my stomach tightened expectantly at the thoughts of Edward on top of me, breathing and whispering and panting into my neck. Focus Bella. Focus. It was so not the time. I can daydream indefinitely about the other girls Edward's been with. But when it comes to recalling my own experiences? Well, I practically cease functioning.

But my mind continued to wander, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing right then. It was only 8:30. He was probably still asleep. And that thought sent another flood of deliciously erotic images rushing through my severely Edward-obsessed brain.

And I was thinking of Edward, shirtless in just his boxers. God. I could see the perfect musculature of his marvelous body. The marble contours of his chest rippling down to the flat planes of his toned stomach and – I couldn't help myself – I let my imagination run down to that absolutely mouth-watering V beneath his waist between his slender hips. And that image just pulled, no forced my mental gaze lower – like I said, I can't help myself.

And I could visualize that delectable bulge where his erection strained against his boxers. He always wakes up rock fucking hard. Hey, I meant it when I told you that he told me everything…

I remember the first morning I'd noticed. I was curled up in my signature position at the end of his plush leather sofa. Edward was still asleep, and I lay there watching him. I can stare at Edward for hours… But then he'd rolled over and his covers fell to the floor. And I could see his glorious hard on pressed tight against his sweatpants. Damn. So hot.

He'd caught me looking, of course. And I'd blushed fuchsia and averted my eyes. But he just laughed and smiled crookedly. "I can't fucking help it you know…"

And I'd let my eyes wander back, trying to be discreet as possible, but he wasn't making any effort to cover himself up. And when he saw me looking, he'd bucked his hips twice playfully, and my cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Damn Edward," I'd muttered. "What are you trying to do to me?"

"Sorry love," he'd responded. "Don't want to spoil your breakfast."

Yea. He completely misunderstood my comment. And I lay there, dripping a puddle in my undies, trying my best to disguise my erratic breathing. God what you do to me Edward Cullen…

By then, my thoughts were too far gone, so I just let my mind drift back to that morning when I woke up in Edward's bed, naked and entwined in his arms.

And I'd scooted myself back closer to his body, pressing myself against him and wriggling against his very prominent erection. And he'd sort of grunted, and I could feel his warm breath in my hair as he inhaled deeply.

He slid his hands down my sides and, grabbing my hips, he'd tugged me back against his hard on roughly, and I pushed myself against him. "Fuck Bella…"

The feeling of him pressed against me was so incredibly hot.

And I remember thinking please Edward. Please. One more time… But he wasn't going to let it happen.

"Bella," he hissed through clenched teeth. "We have to fucking stop. You need to leave."

And we both knew why. If I stayed there much longer, we wouldn't be able to resist. Of course, I wanted nothing more than for him to just give in and do it already. My entire body screamed, begged, pleaded, please Edward just fuck me again. You know you want to, and it will feel so damn good. Just take me already…

But of course, I've always been a wuss, and I said nothing. I just nodded and extricated myself from his arms.

I'd blushed and fumbled with my jeans, sheepishly trying to put my clothes back on. He'd watched me openly, and I could still see the desire in his jade colored eyes. But I just got dressed silently and let whatever opportunity I may have had slip by.

And I knew he didn't want to alter our dynamic entirely. As if I could ever go back to the way things were before… But I'd never let him know that. I'd take what I could get. And if it was just one night with him, well, that was something.

He'd rolled out of bed too, running a hand through his always so sexy, perfectly rumpled bronze hair. He'd smiled wickedly at me, flashing those perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth, and I'd practically melted right there. Damn. Did he know how insanely wet he could get me with one freaking look?

Hopefully not. And I intended to keep it that way. He'd pulled on a pair of dirty khakis and a tight, white t-shirt that perfectly accentuated his amazing, sexy, mouth-watering body… Stop Bella.

But like I said, I can't help myself. Thinking and dreaming and lusting and fantasizing about Edward is a full time job.

And then I saw him kick the condom wrapper under his bed, and that simple action made my stomach tighten with want, and suddenly my thighs, my legs, fuck, my entire body was tingling.

I desperately wanted to throw myself at him or, at least, ask him what he was thinking. But, of course, I said nothing.

And then we were dressed, and he gave me this awkward one-armed hug and kissed me gently on top of my head. It was a chaste, brotherly action, and I could feel our dynamic shifting back to how it'd always been – back to the way it probably should be.

Clearly, that night had been a serious breech in our social contract, but he wasn't about to let it turn into more. And I hated it. But as much as I hated it, I understood it. He was leaving, after all. Just days later, he and Emmett had loaded the Volvo and headed off to UW, where they'd both enrolled as freshmen.

And then I was sneaking, yes sneaking down the stairs and out the front door. And I actually did a pseudo walk of shame to my car, all self-conscious about my wrinkled clothes, and smudged makeup, and sex hair.

It was incredibly ridiculous, really. Part of me knew that then. And, looking back, my leaving that morning was just another dead giveaway that something had happened between Edward and me. After all, I was a relatively permanent fixture at the Cullen family's weekend breakfasts. I'd spent countless nights there over the years – whether in Alice's room or in my customary spot at the end of Edward's leather couch.

And I always stayed for breakfast.

So it was pretty stupid of me to leave that morning.

Hell, Alice knew damn well that I slept over. We'd all gone out to dinner together, and then she'd joined us for ice cream in her brother's room. She just called it a night early because she wanted to flirt with Jasper on the phone and because Edward and I were going to watch Caddyshack – again. She fucking hated that movie.

Sub-consciously, I think that's why I'd selected it that night. I wanted Edward all to myself and knew that Alice wouldn't stick around for yet another showing of our all-time favorite film.

So, yea, I shouldn't have left that morning. My absence at breakfast had surely highlighted the fact that we'd obviously been up to something not so innocent once she'd left us alone…

She hadn't called me on it for a few days though. Not until after he was gone. She'd been watching us discreetly of course. I thought we'd done a pretty good job of acting natural but, then again, Alice knew us better than anyone, and she already had her suspicions.

I'd only seen him once more before he left for school.

I'd come over that last day. Helped him pack. Edward, Alice, Emmett, and I had worked steadily for a few hours. Folding clothes, packing boxes, cleaning out desks. We hadn't said much, but I didn't think that there was much out of the ordinary about our interaction. Perhaps it was a bit strained, a bit awkward maybe. But you could totally chalk that up to the fact that my best friend since day care was moving away.

But Alice saw right through us.

The Volvo had barely made it down the driveway when she confronted me. Carlisle was busy comforting Esme. It must be difficult, after all, to lose not one, but two sons all at once.

Alice stopped me. "How long?"

"Hmm?" I looked at her blankly.

"How long?" she repeated. "How long have you and Edward been sleeping together?"

"What? Alice, no. It isn't like that, we're not…"

"It's okay Bella. You don't have to hide it anymore. He's gone. And I know."

"I, um, well…" I fumbled with my words and blushed crimson. "How?"

She half laughed and rolled her eyes. "Bella, the other night? It's not like y'all were making much of an effort to be quiet or anything."

"Oh." Realization set in, and I felt my cheeks burn deeply. "Alice, I'm sorry, I, we…we didn't plan it. It was only that night."

"Uh huh. Yea. Sure."

She didn't believe me, of course. She wouldn't buy that it was only a one-night thing. But she got over it pretty damn quick. We're best friends after all. One fuck – one totally amazing, breath taking, earth shattering, to die for fuck I might add – won't change that. And we're Aokay. We've already made plans to visit Edward and Emmett at UW over fall break next month.

I can't fucking wait.

Edward was right to be worried. That night changed everything. But I'm okay with that. I don't want things to go back to the way they were. I'm too far gone. And, I'm totally, irrevocably, maddeningly in love with Edward Cullen.

a/n: So, what do you think? It's totally a guilty pleasure, I know. (As if my other story isn't such as well...)

Review please. It's like sex on the bathroom counter with Edward.

Love ya! Violet.