**Jessica Zafra held this contest in her blog one time, and she had her readers make up a sex scene for Stephanie Meyer's Twilight. Dull series. Bright idea. We were allowed to use any character for our submissions, and so you probably have an idea how that went. Her gay readers, including yours truly, were all too relentless with their entries. It resulted in a cornucopia of bestiality, necrophilia and incest that had most of us hard in a heartbeat.
The winning entry gets a Twilight box set, and it went to this guy, Root, who submitted an upbeat entry written in Tagalog. My submission had Emmett, Edward, and Jacob in this fantastical menage-a-trois, and here's how it went.
Emmett’s feet were silent as he walked along these hollow walls that led to the manor’s lower chambers. The night was hot with the warmth from these torches, the air was stale in between these brick walls, and he was just too eager to get The Job done. He allowed himself to grin as he recalled Jacob’s capture. That idiot dog boy didn’t know what hit him; that wine looked far too engaging, of course it should, that’s the point, and the dog indulged. Hell, he’d probably take a sip from the same cup himself, only if he didn’t drink with dogs, and, more importantly, if he didn’t know it was drugged.
Stupid werewolf. Stupid peace wine. Stupid interrogation. He didn’t know why he had to take part in this inquiry, it’s not like he raised a hand in participation. Edward should be able to extract the information they need, he alone should suffice and make quick work of the dog boy. He has to assist the younger Cullen in the process. But what harm can a sedated werewolf do?
He doesn’t get it. But he’s a few feet away from the last door on the right, that’s the holding chamber, so he might as well get on with it and see where it goes. The silence, however, was becoming all too pronounced at this point. It was altogether uncommon for he was looking forward to coercive threats, maybe some regulated torment. Controlled harassment at the very least, but there was nothing. Curiosity hurried him to that slight crack on the door.
What he witnessed caught him entirely by surprise. He half-expected the werewolf to be drowsy with the drugged wine, shackled in chains to better maneuver the investigation they have planned. But bathing in what little moonlight the barred windows allowed was Edward’s naked, glistening paleness. The vampire was standing with his back towards Emmett, his broad shoulders hunched, his firm, lean arms stretched downwards to support that slow forward thrust he’s developing with his muscular behind.
He never knew why, but he’s always allowed himself to imagine how a naked Edward Cullen will look like. Not that there’s anything wrong with this fantasy; they are brothers, yes, but that entitlement wasn’t biological. No, not at all, none of them Cullens are for that matter. A last name and puncture marks on the neck, that’s what they have in common, maybe superhuman strength and speed too. Actual familial ties are out of the question, which is why he’s letting his fantasies linger.
He couldn’t help but feel offended now that his wet dreams are finally coming to life, Not because he’s looking at his non-biological brother in the buff, but because somebody else beat him to it. On Edward’s naked ass were hands, it’s fingers gripped in selfish possession. It was Jacob’s. The wolf man’s face was concealed by Edward’s steadily lunging hips, but it’s hands kept their grip. Edward’s unstable gyrations occasion a glimpse of Jacob’s handsome face: his eyes shut in concentration, his lips enveloping Edward’s manhood, his cheeks bulging in sexual greed. Emmett detected an occasional muffled choke issuing from Jacob, and that drove him mad with longing.
To Emmett, that distant gagging was a cry for help, for back up perhaps. Maybe even reinforcements, but that won’t work. He wanted Edward on his own, and how he’d kill to be in Jacob’s place. How he’d kill Jacob to be in his place! But there wasn’t a hint of exhaustion in Jacob’s efforts because he’s beginning to tighten his grip on Edward’s behind. He’s controlling Edward’s gyrations now, pushing the vampire deeper into him, Edward’s hips alternating in between slow circular motions and steady forward lunges that are becoming all the more violent.
It was a sight well beyond imagining. It was a dream punctuated by Edward’s prolonged moaning with each violent thrust. Jacob locking Edward down with the will of his hands alone was altogether too severe for Emmett, and the movement on the vampire’s hips, those slow gyrations and sudden lunges, made him all the more feverish with desire. And what makes it all the more intense was that Emmett’s manhood was responding to this most persuasive display. He then knew he wasn’t dreaming. His throbbing erection made that clear.
Emmett’s tongue moved across his lips as closed his eyes in a spontaneous mixture of pleasure and jealous frustration. He knew he was losing control of his own hands to sexual surrender; he’s naked himself without him knowing it. He abandoned all caution in his own erotic darkness as he began to pleasure himself, his hands moving up, and then down, in that familiar stroke that was beginning to take haste. Ahhh, the rapture! He allowed his eyes to open, to feast itself once more in Edward’s naked paleness. He needs to take it all in to reinforce a mental picture that may not happen again.
He opened his eyes, and Edward was looking back at him. The vampire was grinning, his teeth displaying an invitation as he was maintaining that lascivious dance.
**I’ll stop here before this escalates to an anal scene where Edward bites his own hand so he can use his blood as lube.