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Unexpected Changes

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The last chards of rice were thrown at us harshly as we quickly climbed into the limo sent to zip us away into our newly wedded bliss. Tonight was the night that I could finally give my fully human self to Edward, something I've been dreaming of since I saw his perfect face in Italy a little over a year ago.

He turned those smoldering eyes to face me, interrupting my train of thought. "You look delicious, love," he said as his eyes reached glass-melting temperatures.

I couldn't breathe. You'd think after countless encounters with Edward's heavenly eyes I'd be able to handle the immense passion they sent, ravishing my body in desire, but I couldn't. I would've taken his perfect vampire body right in the back seat of the limo, but Carlise, Edward's "dad," insisted on driving us to the airport, where our flight to Memphis, Tennessee would whisk us away to Elvis-topia. It had always been Edwards dream to see Elivs's mansion.

"Bella," he said, once again derailing the train of thought, "Do you... do you mind? I... would... like to breathe on you."

My head wheeled as his exquisite words hit my ears. I could only weakly nod in compliance.

His sweet breath fanned my face only flaming the fires of my passion to a point that could wipe out an entire forest. How long was the flight to Memphis again? I think Edward and I might have to join the Mile High Club.

After what seemd like eleven lungs worth of suculant carbon dioxide, he stopped, looking out the window to see our "Elvis Air" airplane adorned with large rhinestones and paintings of "The King".

"We're here," he whispered, unable to contain his excitement.

His excitement was contagious. I felt the growing excitment in my chest as we headed towards the airport. However, my excitement was different from Edward's.

He was happy to be finally seeing the Elvis mansion, but I was happy to know that in a matter of minutes Edward would be pants down in the airplane bathroom, and not because he was pooping. I gave him a lustful once over just thinking of the hot enclosed in a tight sex we would soon have.

The airplane was smaller inside than I had expected and our seat was second to last. I didn't really mind though, we had prime real estate for what I wanted. Edward and I would be able to sneak to the bathroom without anyone noticing. As we took our seats and the helpful safety video played, I caressed Edward's thigh, letting him koow what was to come once the captain took the seatbelt light off and we were safely able to move about the cabin.

I made sure to continually stroke up and down his upper thigh, hoping to portray that soon his manhood would be feeling the same pleasure, and all I had to do was wait. Edward hadn't gone to the bathroom at the reception so it was a matter of time before it was necessary for him to clean the water pipes.

The light clicked on before we knew it and I turned eagerly to Edward. His face was screwed into an expression of disgust.

"Edward? What's wrong?" I asked, worried that I'd upset him somehow.

"There is a... man. Thinking very hard right now and it is rather distracting,"

he said through gritted teeth.

I put my hand higher on his thigh. "Does this help get your attention back?" I asked seductively.

"Yes, thank yo-OH GOD."

Edward writhed in pain in his seat, my attempts to arouse him futile. He seemed as if he saw something utterly disturbing, and then I knew what it was. From the bathroom I heard the sound of someone having some serious bowl movements. Just my luck. Of course, there would be some man in the bathroom with the trots when I wanted to join the Mile High Club.

Finally the man of torture came out of the restroom. I excitedly turned to the most amazing being(living and dead) occupying the earth. Unfortunately he was doing something unusally human...sleeping.

For once, I knew it wasn't just a facade to fool the humans around into thinking he was one of them. His slumbering face was peaceful and beautiful. I tried to take it all in, but he was staring ahead and I was only granted the beauty of the side of his face. However, his face held a disturbed expresson, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. My poor Cupcake was having a bad dream.

Before I could pick from my options for comforting my sweet cupcake (caress his sweaty brow, caress his heaving bousom, caress his pants) in his time of trial, Edward began to sleep-talk. I felt the moment become intimate. He was doing for me what I had done for him on so many nights.

"Oh god!" He mummered. I couldn't decided if his tone was that of a fit of passion or extreme disgust. Could my dear sweetums be having a wet dream? I truly hoped so.

"No! Only one tablet is the dose not the entire bar!" He screamed. People turned to stare upon his unnaturally beautiful face. He was obviously not having a wet dream.

Edward once again began to mutter, seemingly calmer than he was a moment ago "Projectile pooping. He could probably hit a target from a few feet away. The phrase "Oh God" is repeated quite a lot and very loosely, much like his bowels." It seemed as though he would soon quiet down after his drowse induced narrative was complete.

How wrong I was.

"NO NO NO!" he screeched, whipping his head back and forth violently. "He has clogged the toliet! OH MY DEAR SWEET JESUS IN HEAVEN!"

I watched with fascination as Edward's body began to tremble "NOT THE TILES. NOT THE TILES! IT'S SEEPING UNDER THE DOOR. JESUS CHRIST ON A CRACKER!" His trembles grew more and more violent as the image in his mind grew more and more graphic. I was reminded briefly of the time when Mike had dared me to google "two girls, one cup" except this seemed far, far worse.

The entire plan was staring at this point, luckily the planes wheels landed with a thud on the pavement, and Edward awoke. However, that wasn't the end of the sounds to come out of Edward. Along with the plane tires screeching to a halt came another sound that was not silent, but definitely deadly.

I know that he lacked blood, but I could have sworn that he blushed a deep shade of off-white in embarassment. Grabbing our well-stored overhead luggage, he muttered a quick "I'm sorry, Love" and glided me off the plane into Memphis International Airport.