Disclaimer: I am going to do this for the whole story so I don't have to keep repeating myself. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A big thank you is being sent out to my lovely Pre-reader Jackie and Beta EvilPumpkin. These amazing ladies are from SRP, I suggest you check them out if you are looking for a pre-reader and/or beta!

Another huge thanks to IllicitWriter for making an awesome banner for this story, you can check it out on my profile and there is also a link to her website where you can apply to have a banner made. I highly recommend you check it out : )

OK...so here is my new story. There is adult language and situations throughout, so if you are not old enough or it is simply not something you feel comfortable with you should probably press the back up button right about now.

This story is not meant to be taken seriously, it is not here to challenge you, or change your world view. It is here to hopefully make you laugh. Some of the characters are OOC, this is done mainly for comic purposes. It is also fairly sarcastic.

I really hope you like it!

Searching for O

Chapter One

I stood outside my apartment door and breathed in deeply, then looked around to make sure there was no one else in the hallway. I needed to give myself a strong pep talk. If anyone were to overhear said pep talk, I would surely die, so I made sure I was completely alone before I began.

"Come on, I can do this. Tonight is the night. The night that I, Bella Swan, sex goddess extraordinaire, shall experience my first mind-blowing, earth-shattering, ground-moving, knee-weakening, soul-destroying, wonderful, glorious, fan-fucking-tastic orgasm." I giggled. I wasn't really a sex goddess. Nevertheless, I had to talk myself up somehow, and a girl could dream. Right?

I walked into my apartment and toed off my white tennis shoes. It was eerily quiet.

On my lunch break, I had called my boyfriend, James. I instructed him that when I got home, I wanted him laid out on my bed…naked. I then told him that I was going to rock his world. I had only broke into a nervous giggle once during the whole phone call, so I considered it an amazing success.

Let me just clarify something. This was not my normal behavior. I had always been a good girl, a simple girl…a safe girl. In return for all my wholesomeness, I had been rewarded with the most boring and uninspiring sex life in the entire history of sex. At the grand age of twenty-five, I had still never had an orgasm.

Yeah, that's right. Never. Had. An. Orgasm.

Because of this, the elusive orgasm had become the Holy Grail to me. I was beginning to think that there was no such thing. That it was a cruel joke some moron had thought up just to get women to have sex with him.

My best friends, Rose and Alice, had informed me that this was not true. Orgasms were real, and they had had them. Multiple times.

That's when my challenge had started. I called it Operation "Bella needs to have an orgasm, or what is the point in anything anymore?".

I sauntered across my small living room to my closed bedroom door, where I knew James was waiting for me. I took another deep breath and put my hand on the door handle.

"Are you ready to have your world changed, stud?" I called in the most seductive voice I possessed...which, in reality, was not very seductive at all.

My voice was shaking, my palms were sweating, and I was sure I was going to fuck the whole thing up. I opened my bedroom door with a flourish, and plastered my best sex kitten smile onto my face.

Then I froze.

There wasn't much that could shock me. Walking in on my boyfriend of three months dressed head to toe in drag, however, managed to do just that. I was stunned into silence.

What do you say, when on the night you had planned on having fantastic, orgasmic sex, you instead find out that your man is a drag queen?

We stared at each other for a moment. Me in staggered surprise, him in nervous guilt. I let my eyes travel over him. The James I knew was all but gone.

He was sat on my blue bed spread. His long blond hair, which was normally tied into a tight ponytail, was down and curled around his face in delicate twists. His eyelids were heavily lined and covered in a light blue shadow. Blush had been applied liberally to his high cheekbones, and his thin lips were plumped up with pink lipstick.

My eyes traveled lower.

He was wearing a striking, skin tight, pink strapless dress. His chest was filled out with reasonably sized breasts that I was pretty sure had not been there before.

I allowed my eyes to travel down even further. His legs were encased in sheer stockings; they looked shapely and long. Feminine. I finished with his feet, which were sporting the highest, shiniest, most shocking pair of pink 'fuck me'heels I had ever seen.

There is never a good moment to come to the realization that your boyfriend looks better in a dress than you do. It didn't seem fair, but the truth was that James looked fucking fantastic.

"So, this is me," he said nervously. His voice was shaking like mine had earlier. I think he thought I was going to scream at him, get angry, or throw shit and cry. It would have been an appropriate reaction. However, I just couldn't.

To be honest, I had been expecting something to go wrong between us for some time. There was nothing wrong with James (except for the fact that he looked like a fucking goddess in drag). The problem was well and truly me. James was just the latest in a long, long, long line of romantic fuck-ups for me. I had planned to have a hot and heavy night with him. I thought he would want that, too. Instead, I had driven him to drag. I sighed heavily and sat down next to him, feeling pretty shitty about myself.

"So, I guess we're breaking up then," I said, leaning my elbow on my knee and resting my chin on the palm of my hand.

James looked over at me in shock. His pink lips opened and closed, like a fish stuck on land and gulping for breath.

"You're not…angry?" he asked.

I sighed again. "James…"

"Actually, when I'm dressed like this, I'm known as Jasmine."

I cleared my throat; there was no way I could call him that. Not without laughing…or crying. I decided to leave names out of it.

"No, I'm not angry. I was expecting something to go wrong anyway. I don't think we were ever cut out for each other."

I liked James. I found him attractive, and he was sweet and caring. Yet there had never been that spark. We never gazed into each other's eyes and felt that burning passion that screamed, If I don't rip your clothes off and mount you now, I will literally die. With James and me, it was more a gentle kiss here, a gentle kiss there, and then a round of mediocre sex that was not especially inspiring for either of us. Just in, out, in, out, and then nothing. No fireworks, no hallelujahs, and no orgasms that rocked the center of my world.

"I am so sorry Bella. I…I have been repressing who I am for a really long time, and after your phone call this afternoon, I knew I just had to admit it to both myself and to you."

Jesus, I really did drive him to drag, I thought to myself.

"Do you remember when I went out for a bachelors' night?"

I nodded. It had been at least a month ago. I nearly laughed out loud. All that time I had been thinking of ways to spice up our sex life, and he had been thinking about what 'fuck me' shoes went with what 'fuck me' dress.

"Well, we decided to go to a drag bar, as a joke…and I met Greg. He was performing that night, and since then he has been opening my eyes to all the things I had been too scared to see."

I held back a snort. I was pretty sure that wasn't the only thing Greg was opening James up to.

"So, this...Greg, he is a performing drag queen?" I asked out of morbid curiosity.

"No, he only does that on the weekends. He is actually an accountant."

I nodded. An accountant. I didn't know how to respond to that. Not that there was anything wrong with a drag queen accountant.

"So, I assume that you and Greg are seeing each other?"

James gasped in a lady-like fashion and delicately laid his hand on his fake chest. I felt my stomach tightening. My soon-to-be-ex was more ladylike than I was.

"Bella, I swear…I never cheated on you. I would never do that. Greg…he kissed me once, but that was it. I told him I could go no further…not until you and I were done. I do want to be with him, though. He is just so…so…amazing," he said with a dreamy sigh.

I felt jealousy pinch at my insides. I had never found anyone to sigh over dreamily. No one had even came close to a dreamy sigh.

"Well, I guess you should go and be with him then," I said. There didn't seem to be much point in dragging the whole thing out any longer than necessary. I just wanted to curl up on my sofa, watch re-runs of Jeopardy, and drown myself in a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

James let out a little cry and threw his arms around me. He squeezed me so tight that I nearly suffocated.

"Whoa there, ladies don't squeeze that hard," I gasped. He let me go with a girly giggle.

I walked him to the door and opened it for him. He stepped out, then turned and hugged me again, more gently than before.

"Thank you, Bella. You have been so great about this. Can we still be friends?"

I was pretty sure that when James walked out the door it would be the last time I would ever see him, but I agreed all the same.

He kissed me on the cheek just as the front door to the apartment across from mine opened.

Dread. Cold, hard, shitty dread hit my stomach, like a punch from a heavy weight boxer.

I looked up and met warm, emerald eyes.

Edward Cullen, my long time neighbor and long time crush, also known as, 'Cullen, fuck me hard, please,' exited his apartment and looked over to the scene in front of him. I watched shock register in those deep green eyes as he took in James in all his drag glory. Then I watched a crooked smirk lift his lips.

James said goodbye and sent Edward a flirtatious wave as he walked away.

We stood in silence, him with his irritatingly sexy-as-hell smirk on his face, me with my, why-can't-the-earth-just swallow-me-whole embarrassment written all over mine.

"Dum, dum, dum… another one bites the dust," he sang to me.

Arrogant, irritating, sexy asshole.

I glared up at him, and the smirk widened into a full-blown grin. It was not the first time Edward had seen a man leave my apartment after another failed attempt at a relationship.

"Yeah, ok, Casanova," I huffed defensively. I knew he was only joking, but I was pretty upset. I had come home intending to have a night of burning passion. Instead, my boyfriend had walked out dressed as a woman.

I didn't really know if Edward was a Casanova. I had no proof. I never heard any suspicious noises coming from his apartment. Never saw any girls coming to, or leaving, his place. It was just hard to imagine that he was not one.

He stank of sex appeal; it oozed out of his pores and possessed everything around him. He was the kind of guy that when a woman saw him, they would instantly start salivating at the mouth. And down below, if you get my meaning.

He made women stop in their tracks, trip over their own feet, and walk into lamp posts.

Or maybe that was just me. The lamp post thing had only happened once.

There was nothing unappealing about Edward 'fuck me hard, before I combust' Cullen. He had the most peculiar bronze hair that stuck up in all directions, giving him that freshly fucked look. It was the kind of hair that you could just grip onto whilst his head was buried between your thighs. His face was full of sharp angles, with those wide green eyes, full, suckable lips, and a jaw line that could have cut through glass. The rest of him was just as good. He was tall and lean. The tight black t-shirts he wore did nothing to hide the firm muscle that hid beneath the fabric, and his dark jeans highlighted his long, strong legs and an ass that you just wanted to bite into.

He was quite a few years older than me, in his mid thirties for sure, but I didn't care. He was the perfect older man, gorgeous, sexy, and completely unobtainable.

I could feel myself getting flustered. Just looking at him sent the blood rushing through my veins in a frenzy.

I narrowed my eyes at him, angry that he was so attractive, then turned around and reopened my door, intending to walk away from him and forget that the evening had ever happened.

"You've got something on your cheek," he called just before I entered my apartment.

I used both my hands to rub my face. When I looked at them, I noticed something sticky and pink covering my fingers.

Lipstick. James-slash-Jasmine's lipstick.

Great, I thought. Kill me, just kill me now.






OK so there is the first chapter. Please let me know what you think. Reviews literally make my day so if you could spare a couple of minutes to let me know what you think I would really appreciate it. Also, I need to know if you think this is worth continuing!


Update coming soon!