Good morning, my lovelies. Can you believe it's March already? My, how time flies! I'm sure you're more than ready to delve into the wonderful slashy goodness that Aradi and Stolenxsanity have in store for you today, so let's get on with it, shall we?
~*~*~*~*~*~
There are new contests popping up again! That’s good and bad. Good because we’re given new fics to entertain us. Bad because we have to wait for the contest to finish before we can point out the ones you shouldn’t miss!
The CarlWard Contest is open. (Mmm.... C/E) I already have a favorite (or three), but you’ll have to wait to hear about those. The Eurofornication contest is also accepting submissions. They won’t all be slash, but hey we can hope.
Dirty Talking Jasper just finished, and while most of the stories *weren’t* slashy, there were plenty that were.
The O/S that won the public vote was the very story that I had to sit on my hands to not run over here and rec the moment I read it.
Inscrutable by Lou-La (author of How to Turn a Straight Guy Gay)
Inscrutable is short, funny, and undeniably hot. There’s dirty talking, boy love, and unbridled horror. (These are a few of my faaaavorite thinnnngs... )
The story is narrated by our beloved Emmett, who is straighter-than-straight, as he makes perfectly clear. Emmett wants us all to know that his roommate Edward is nerdy and reserved. He’s Emmett’s total opposite (in *all* things), and capital-B boring.
Color Emmett shocked when he ends up the unwilling, unexpected audience to a side of Edward he’s never seen (or heard).
What really drives the story is the brilliant juxtaposition between Emmett’s mental breakdown...
I'm mindfucked. This is just not even remotely possible. This cannot be Edward. It is some unknown perverted man that sounds like my roommate, and coincidentally has the same name too. Perhaps while I wasn't looking, I was transported into some bizarre alternate universe―or slipped some really good hallucinogens. Where am I, and why am I here?
...and Jasper and Edward’s dirty, dirty... “talking”....
"Oh, fuck."
"Do that."
"Right there."
I can’t tell any more without ruining the fun, since half the fun is in the actions and reactions. Go read it and see.
And go submit, read, and vote in all the great contests going on!
~*~*~*~*~*~
!Hola mis amigos! ¿Cómo están todos ustedes? I can’t believe it’s March already. This year is already flying by, even if it sometimes feels like it’s dragging along. That said, here I am again, back with another rec to gift you lovely ladies - and gents? - with. In my ever so biased opinion, it’s a doozy, and brought to you courtesy of the dirtytalkingjasper contest. And, let’s be honest here, who could possibly bypass a contest with entries that require a foul-mouthed Jasper?
That said, I bring you Wanderlust by tuesdaymidnight for your reading pleasure - emphasis on pleasure, mind you. ;) While it’s listed as Edward/Jasper, the story takes a bit to introduce our oft beloved copper-haired leading man, but the build up to it is pretty fucking perfect, and flawless, and so incredibly hot that just thinking about it makes my thoughts just this side of incoherent. I mean, think about it - three words: dirty talking Jasper. Can you blame me for the incoherency? Didn’t think so …
Back to the rec that starts off with Jasper fleeing Texas, and en route to Memphis, Tennessee - and Peter:
With his other arm, he pulled me even closer until our hips were pressed together.
That was all it took, and the mood between us changed.
Peter's hands slid down my back and came to my ass. He grabbed it and thrust against me roughly.
"For old time's sake?" I groaned.
"Char won't mind," Peter whispered.
I never needed him more than I did in that moment, and somehow he knew it.
I grabbed hold of his chin and tilted his lips up to meet mine. His hands came up almost immediately into my hair, tugging it just the way I liked. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, but I pressed my hard-on up against him to let him know anyway.
"Now see what you've done?" I said in a low voice. "You've gone and got my dick hard and now you're going to have to do something about it."
"Come inside," he said as he pulled away.
"I plan to," I replied as I let him drag me back into the house.
We ran into Charlotte in the living room. She had a bag slung over her shoulder and a jacket draped over her arm.
I dropped Peter's hand immediately.
"I'm going over to Mary's," she announced. She looked thoughtful for a moment before she smiled and kissed both of us on the cheek.
"Okay," Peter agreed. "Goodnight, Char."
"See you boys in the morning," she called to us over her shoulder.
My voice was stuck in my throat.
It was Peter who broke the silence between us as the door clicked shut.
"She's okay with this, I promise."
"But-"
"It's not cheating when it's with you," he insisted.
Given our history, I knew he believed what he was saying. Charlotte had watched us fuck on more than one occasion, so it was at least reasonable to think she'd be okay with it. Before, even a year ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. Maybe Peter was right, maybe I had changed, or at least I had some souvenir scars on my heart.
I didn't have any more time to mull it over because then he was right in front of me. I closed my eyes and his warm breath hit my ear.
"Please," he whispered.
It was the 'please' that did me in, and the familiarity of it all came back. My eyes snapped open, and I grabbed him by the back of his neck and kissed him hard.
One word: unf. Sadly - or maybe not so sadly since it opens the door for other, shall we say, liaisons - JasPeter is a one time thing. Le sigh. That doesn’t mean, though, that the sexy times is put on hold until the other participant in this slash dream team enters the picture. Quite the opposite, actually. But, I’ll get to that a little later.
Even at this point in the story, we still don’t know much about Jasper except that whatever he left behind in Texas was bad. Something happens in Memphis that triggers these bad memories of the things he’s attempting to run from. So, while this story is definitely hot with a side of … well, extra-hot, it’s got a little bit o’ angst and a little bit o’ fluff, too.
I remembered all too clearly the night it all came to a head. I remembered trying to sneak out and getting caught before I had a foot out the door. But mostly I remember the look in her eyes when she saw me, glaring at me with such hatred.
Anger.
Disgust.
The empty look in his eyes, though, was a million times worse.
He looked right through me.
As if I was nothing.
I went back to Pete and Char's place feeling defeated. Peter knew something was wrong immediately, but it took me a few shots of whiskey before I could speak without tears threatening to choke me. I poured more whiskey into the glass and took it into the living room. Peter followed me wordlessly and sat down next to me on the couch.
I knew he wanted me to talk about it, to tell him what happened, and I knew he would listen, but there was just too much to tell. Garrett was just one mistake among many, though it was his blank expression that hovered in my mind.
"He was never going to leave her for me," I said softly.
"Jazz," Peter whispered, as he put an arm around me. "Come here."
I curled my body into his, burying my face in his chest.
I couldn't say anything else. I just didn't have it in me. I held onto my best friend and let the tears fall. He didn't offer any pointless platitudes or tell me it was going to be all right, he just rubbed my back until the tears dried up and I found my voice.
"You're the only good man in my life," I finally said.
From there, Jasper flees again - the where and why fores are something you’ll have to read on your own. What fun would this be if I told you everything in one fell swoop? - this time en route to Nashville and the aforementioned liaison (numero dos): Randall.
As soon as he opened the door, I knew it was all right.
"How's it going, Whitlock?" he asked me with a smile.
"Fair to Midland," I replied with a drawl.
"What's that?" Randall asked me as he eyed me up and down.
"It's a Texas thing," I responded with an easy smile.
He opened the door wider for me and I stepped through.
I dropped my bag near the entryway and turned my attention back to him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans that hung low on his hips. Randall was bigger than me. It was clear that putting in time at the gym was important to him. He looked fucking good and he knew it, but there was really only one piece of his anatomy I was interested in right then.
"I missed that huge cock of yours like you wouldn't believe."
I stepped forward and pressed my hand against it, then rubbed, feeling it harden.
"I just got home. Was about to hit the shower," he said, raising an eyebrow in invitation.
"Lead the way, big boy," I said, giving his ass a swat.
I followed him to the bathroom, peeling my clothes off as I went. He turned on the water and climbed in, leaving the curtain open for me to follow. He had a bench his shower. After I let the hot water hit my skin for minute, I walked him back a step and sat him down. I leaned forward and grabbed his cock, giving it a few tugs before wrapping my lips around it.
"I want your fucking cock," I told him when I had to come up for breath.
Peter always bottomed as far as I knew, but I didn't have a preference. Some men I wanted to drill, and some men just had cocks that were asking to be ridden.
Randall's was one of those.
The story progresses perfectly - and seamlessly - highlighting a little bit about Jasper’s time in Nashville, and with Randall, before he’s on the road once more. This time, he’s heading further north and finds himself in Philadelphia, and at Alice’s front door.
Alice wasn't surprised to see me on her doorstep the morning I arrived, even though I hadn't warned her. I asked her for her address a few weeks back, and she knew me well enough to know that it wasn't so I could send her a singing telegram. I had slept in my Bronco at a rest stop the night before, and I'm sure I looked like death warmed over. But she jumped into my arms just the same and planted a wet kiss on my lips.
"Still trying to convert me, I see," I teased.
"You know I stopped all that after I found your porn stash."
She grimaced at the memory as I set her back on her feet.
"Oh come on, I hardly had any really dirty stuff back then."
"It wasn't that!" Alice insisted as she motioned for me to follow her into her row house. "I just realized that if you liked peen that much, there was really no hope for me."
"Ah, yes, my circle jerk phase," I mused.
"Perv," she said, smacking her hand across my chest.
"You love it," I insisted.
"Do I?" She asked.
"You live vicariously and you know it. You wish you had a fine dick like mine."
"Not in the way you mean!" She giggled as she took me on a quick tour through her place.
Who else is in Philadelphia, though?
It was in a 24-hour diner near Alice's house where I saw him, sitting all alone, with reddish hair and pale skin. He was tall and skinny and reading a tattered copy of Kerouac.
"Hey there," I sat down next to him at the counter. "You do know that book's a bunch of self-serving, pretentious crap, right?"
He looked me up and down for a solid minute before he answered, "You do know you're dressed like Peter Fonda in Easy Rider."
I glanced down at my leather jacket, black jeans and boots and couldn't help but grin. Boy had a mouth and a wit. A sinful combination.
"Yeah, but I didn't come on a chopper."
"What did you come on?" He smirked back at me, exaggerating the innuendo.
"Well, I'd like come on that pretty face of yours, if you'll let me."
Even though he set me up, his cheeks reddened. I was pretty sure my gaydar was on target, but the blush confirmed it.
Clearly flustered, he coughed and took a sip of his coffee to cover it up.
"That's presumptuous of you, don't you think?" He asked after he swallowed.
"Well now," I paused. "Wait, what's your name?"
"Edward," he replied immediately, blushing even harder at his eagerness.
"Well now, Edward, if you weren't interested in getting those lips of yours painted in my cum, you would have told me to fuck off already."
"Call me old-fashioned, but I don't get facials from men whose names I don't even know."
"Pardon my bad manners," I said, shooting him a smile and sticking out my hand. "Jasper Whitlock at your service."
What happens from there? A whole lot of Mr. Edward Masen making Jasper work for it, a lot more not so subtle innuendos, and a whole lot of sexy. This is definitely one of those stories that I couldn’t stop reading once I’d started it, and even considered reading again once I’d finished it. But, feel free to judge for yourself, loves. In fact, I’m sure it would make tuesdaymidnight’s day if you did exactly that and let her know your thoughts on this little gem. xx.
~*~*~*~*~*~
There you have it, folks. Who doesn't love a Dirty Talking Jasper, especially of the slashy variety ;-) Be sure to leave these wonderful ladies some lovin' after reading their stories, and come back next week to see what Aradi and Captain Jezebel have in store for you then.
In the mean time, the Twilight No Stress Love Fest guessing poll is open, so hop on over and check out all the lovely stories and see if you can figure out who did what. I'm there. Can you find me? Betcha you can't ;-)
