Sexcapade — Twilight Star Robert Pattinson Lusts for Kristen Stewart

Posted by Saucy Sexy on February 10th, 2009 filed in Erotic Tales |

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT.

Video Courtesy of Vanity Fair

A Fictitious Romantic Tale from a Robert Pattinson aka Edward Cullen Perspective about Kristen Stewart aka Bella Swan

This vast land of wasted grass had become my torture chamber. Vanity Fair photographer Peggy Sirota had become my jailer and tormentor, and, she, in turn, would use Kristen to be the fist, whip, knife and hammer that would alternately pummel, slice and bludgeon me until I bled dry.

Lulling me into a delusion that I would be able to endure the hours of Kristen’s scent, warmth and presence, I willingly went along with her directions of faux fighting with my beloved, a concept so alien that I found difficulty mustering the necessary aggression to kick and punch the air between us, since all I yearned to do at that moment was to enclose her in my arms and rain her lovely visage with tender kisses.

I let my devouring gaze settle on Kristen. The Vanity Fair staff had teased her chestnut hair to a tousled mess that framed her beautiful face sexily. Her breasts rose gently from the black curved frame of her strapless dress, while her favorite Converse sneakers adorned her feet, leaving a long length of leg visible. Kristen simply looked adorably sensual.

And then, the photographer gave the directions that made my heart stand still, before it started beating with a thunderous pace that the sound drowned my ears. I tried to clear my mind as Kristen prepared to jump into my arms (go to 14:50).

Peggy Sirota knew just how to torture me. This woman had an Edward Cullen ability to read my mind. No, an Aro like quality to delve into my innermost thoughts and use that knowledge with an unerring accuracy akin to Jane’s unmerciful method in order to twist my exposed nerves to a level of pain that was somewhat alleviated by the pleasure it created.

I cradled the spheres of Kristen’s behind, and let my fingers sink into her flesh. I stopped breathing as my love leaned forward to settle more comfortably into my makeshift crib. Ah, the torment of having her so near. Her creamy arms enveloped me. Her breasts were at eye level. Her neck was in a beautiful arch. I could make out the blue veins under the whiteness of her skin.

Then Peggy requested me to join my hands so that I could shift Kristen higher in my clutch. Oh God! Is this woman a sadist? Does she not see that I’m being torn apart right before her very eyes? Does she not sense that every nerve of my being was on fire? Does she not marvel that I have not shouted my pain to the cerulean sky?

I gritted my teeth, banked the tormented fire in my eyes, and schooled my features into a cold mask. I did as I was told, and felt the scissored grip of Kristen’s legs behind me. We were joined in a very intimate embrace that all lovers have performed. I felt like growling as I imagined plunging myself into her softness in a cadence that was ancient as time.

Photo Courtesy of Vanity Fair

My shaft would enter her channel eagerly, while I let gravity slam her body downwards towards my ravenous hips. My hunger for her would empower me to continue ravaging her slippery fissure as I grip her hips to force even more of my engorged staff into her welcoming embrace and increase the savagery of our mating. I would bury myself completely in her intimate embrace as I gobbled her white mounds, bared for my hungry lips and teeth.

Her essence was creating havoc and chaos, and, if I did not put some distance between us immediately, I don’t know what I might be driven to do.

It was ungentlemanly, but, as soon as I could, I heaved her out of my circled limbs and took several steps backward away from her.

Vanity Fair photographer Peggy Sirota then gave me a respite. Cam Gigandet, the actor who played the vampire James, joined us and was given the task of laying his head on Kristen’s lap, while I hovered over the pair in a bent over position.

And then it was all over too soon. Peggy Sirota had me sit on the dust facing away from Kristen, but, my relief was short lived. Her directions had barely sank into my consciousness before I felt Kristen’s yielding form enfolding me from behind (go to 25:12).

As my back eagerly ensconced her softness, I let my mind wander, imagining that, as my wife, Kristen would routinely wrap her arms around me and inquire about mundane details that bound a man and a woman. Then it would also be natural for me to haul her malleable figure from behind to my lap where she would be inundated with my passionate attention.

Photo Courtesy of Vanity Fair

I would claim her lips repeatedly in greedy little kisses that she would yearn for more, undulating her body against mine, whimpering kittenish sounds and tightening her grip around my neck, all in supplication for my touch and caress. I would laugh delightedly before giving in to her physical ardor by stroking her nubile body to a fever pitch, while dueling with her naughty tongue with mine.

Then it was back again to a fallacy of antagonism that had Kristen and I crouching while facing each other. Noticing my aversion for anything that required any form of aggression against Kristen, Peggy Sirota directed her to straighten up while I remained folded in half, instructing me to go closer until my head butted against her pliable flesh (go to 48:30).

I gripped my weakened knees, and I couldn’t help scowling slightly as I inhaled the alluring scent of her skin. I wanted to collapse at her feet and grasp her by the hips, then lay my trembling cheek against her abdomen, a classic pose of servitude, which she seemed to inspire in me with no effort at all. I am virtually a slave to her every whim.

Photo Courtesy of Vanity Fair

It would be my pleasure if her whim commanded me to nuzzle her soft thighs apart and service her mound with a mouth that’s only too eager to engulf her pink opening, a tongue that’s ready to titillate her pleasure nub, and fingers that will caress her outer lips before seeking her depths. Her writhing hips and moans would be enough to tie this slave to her forever.

The ordeal continued, where, under the weaving limbs of a tree, unimaginable delicate torment would be carried out.

While Kristen’s feet were entangled in the makeshift swing, Peggy Sirota asked me to slip my hands through her arms and let her upper body rest on my torso (go to 31:57).

As I gently sank to my knees to hold her graceful figure, the seemingly simple pose was extremely dangerous because it awakened a keening hunger to claim Kristen.

Everything about her was pulling me in. From her passion and commitment to her craft, her melodious alto voice, her sudden insightful humor, the small of her back to the way she fit perfectly into my arms.

Spontaneously, my fists opened into palms and our fingers intertwined in a classic lovers’ hold that can denote the innocent delight of touching a beloved to the bliss at the peak of physical gratification.

A vision so clear coalesced in my mind’s eye that I felt a stab of recognition for a deeply embedded yearning. My breath was stolen from me at the gut-wrenching truth of it — an image of Kristen and I in our bed together, propped by the headboard and a mountain of white pillows, my limbs spread to accommodate her dainty form in between while she rested her back against my chest.

I was entranced with the sight of her gently whirling hips, with my hardness clasped in her receptive flesh, bringing me pleasure and contentment I’ve never felt before. As the urgency built, I grabbed her rolling hips to hold her still and took control, pummeling my rod into her clutch until both she and I were moaning, and then she whimpered as she felt herself orgasm, while I groaned as I released my essence into her being.

Photo Courtesy of Vanity Fair

One pair of hands, hers and mine, interlaced, which allowed the fingers of my other hand to caress her lightly, watching it trace her delicate skin as we both basked in the serenity of the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.

Misery and torment coupled with exquisite joy. I hoped that my inner turmoil would be mistaken for an attempt to be a brooding irascible vampire.

The afternoon proved that Peggy Sirota was a master at inflicting agony. She had me writhing from sensual misery to piercing tenderness.

I stole a quick glance at Kristen, and saw her clinging to her best friend, Nikki Reed, who instinctively knew that Kristen needed some form of comfort, so she started playing around with her — dancing, hugging and kissing her repeatedly.

A savage pleasure tore through me with the thought that Kristen was also affected, that I was not alone in my torment (go to 57:10).

A monstrous urge to pull Nikki away and replace her ministrations with my hands and my lips suddenly ripped through me. I turned my head away so that I would no longer see them so clearly, focusing instead on gaining back a certain level of equilibrium by laughing genially with Kellan, Peter and Elizabeth.

Then, an epiphany stole over me. Kristen did feel and see the infinite possibilities between us, and she was fearful of it, which drove her to attempt to gain a pitiful distance between us at the end of the Vanity Fair photo shoot. And, even as I laughed for the iconic photograph, a part of me grimly wondered if I had the fortitude to endure the trials ahead.

The cast of Twilight: Robert Pattinson (Edward), Elizabeth Reaser (Esme), Kellan Lutz (Emmett), Peter Facinelli (Dr. Cullen), Nikki Reed (Rosalie), Kristen Stewart (Bella), Ashley Greene (Alice), Jackson Rathbone (Jasper), Cam Gigandet (James), Edi Gathegi (Laurent), Taylor Lautner (Jacob), Rachelle Lefevre (Victoria). Photograph by Peggy Sirota.

Photo Courtesy of Vanity Fair

Author’s Notes
The classification of this particular sexcapade is—”Based on a true story with dramatic embellishments.”

What I found very interesting with the unedited Vanity Fair photo shoot behind the scenes video is the fact that Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson were in front of the lens 90% of the time. The edited video that Vanity Fair initially released gave no idea regarding the width and breath that Peggy Sirota asked the Twilight lead stars to accomplish.

Congratulations to the Vanity Fair team! And, Ms. Sirota, if you ever come across this, I’m sure you understand that the tongue in cheek references to your person are nothing more than a device to highlight the fictional “thirst’ of Robert Pattinson for Kristen Stewart. Thank you!

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