Longings

by Mooncatx

I never mentioned how I felt to Buffy. I knew both she and Xander thought about Giles as being as sexy as one of his dusty books. They'd said as much, time and time again. But I loved the feel of an old book under my hand. The hard, solid texture, the musty sweet smell of old paper, the comforting weight. Sure I'm a wiz on the computer. On the net, I'm a goddess :) and hacker supreme. But my first loves were books... Books and Xander.

But Xander never acknowledged my love for him. He knows. He HAS to know... But I'm like his sister, his best bud. He doesn't see me as female. Does Giles? He respects me. I can tell. And sometimes, when we're researching together, late in the night. I can feel his eyes on me. He thinks I don't notice. I play the oblivious innocent so well... But I can feel his interest.

Does he look at me like one of his musty old tomes? Wondering what arcane knowledge lies between the practical, unremarkable covers? Or is he noticing my shiny youth? Is he thinking what a sweet child I am? Or is he noticing how smooth, and soft my hand is, when it "accidently" brushes against his as we reach for the same volume? That I smell of lavender, because I bought a a bottle of fragrance the day he told me he missed the scent. His old library in England... the one he'd been at before coming here for Buffy... had lavender growing in the garden just outside.

He talks to me. Telling me things he never speaks of with Buffy and Xander... Telling me about his library, and the quiet things he loved in England. I smile at him, thrilled. He mentions one of the old castle ruins he used to picnic at during his breaks. I would like to see that, I say. He startles a moment. It takes a moment for the fact that someone else appreciates the same things as he sinks in. Maybe someday you will, he answers. Does he look at me thoughtfully, a moment more than necessary?

I had a dream last night. Giles and I were alone again, researching another of Buffy's vampire things. I'm wearing a wrap skirt and a front buttoned sleeveless blouse... He's taken off his tweed jacket, and unbuttoned his high collar. The long sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up and his hair is slightly mussed. The night is so hot, and the school air conditioning is turned off at night. There's a little fan keeping the air moving... It ruffles his sweat damped hair, and I can't breath. Casually, I unbutton the blouse. One, two, three buttons... and stop to let the artificial breeze play against my own overheated skin.

Giles is tired. He takes off his glasses to rub his eyes. When he puts them back on, I'm there in front of him. He stands stiff, frozen in surprise. Then he relaxes. What is it, Willow? He asks, thinking I have a question for him. I grin, lift an eyebrow inquiringly. His breath catches a little. And he's nervous all of a sudden. Off guard. Good :) I close the distance between us without a sound, covering his sensual lips with my eager ones. He jumps a bit, but only for a brief second. He's responding to me before he can think about it. I'm completely open to him, and his tongue is past the portal of my lips and searching. I moan at the feel of him in me, his tongue gliding against mine. I taste him, and suck on his tongue, explore him in return.

Giles regains his reason and grasps me by the shoulders, pushing me away. He's saying something about infatuation, crushes, and responsibility... I ignore his words, but watch his lips avidly. Watching how his mouth moves as he speaks. My hands are busy undoing the rest of the buttons of his shirt. I'm quick, and before he releases my shoulders to grasp my hands and hold them away from him, I'd completely bared his chest. It's broad, and firm. The curls of chest hair are fine and almost invisible sandy blonde. His male nipples are ruddy, tiny soft buds... and I lean forward and take one in my mouth.

He cries out, releasing my hands to grasp me by the nape of my long hair. Trying to pull me away. His mistake. My free hand is already loosening his leather belt. Slipping the strap out of the loops with a single ripping gesture and flinging it behind me as I allow him to pull my head away from his now moist, reddened and stiff flesh. I smile at him, and tell him I think he's so sexy I could eat him alive. Stop it, he says, and gives me a little shake. I gasp, and tell him how much I love it when he's forceful. He groans in frustration, but I can see his protests are just unjustified. Without his belt, the only thing keeping his pants up is growing bulge in front.

When I mention his body's statements to the contrary, he blushes furiously and lets go of me. He grabs his loose pants and steps back away from me. Thinking of how to talk me out of my mad acts, he is silent. In the library, in the heat, listening to the whirr of the fan and his heavy breathing, I finish unbuttoning my blouse. I'm not wearing a bra. I don't need one, being modestly endowed. But while small, my breasts are noticeable, soft rises on my chest topped with surprisingly wide aureoles of light reddish brown. I'm very definitely female. Giles seems to stop breathing. He doesn't look away. One tug, and the wrap skirt flutters to the floor. I step across it, towards Giles. Wearing the open fabric of my top, and the virginal white cotten panties, I walk to him. He backs away. Slowly. And is stopped by the press of a table behind him.

Please stop, Willow... he begs. His body fighting his mind. His reason struggling valiantly and losing. No. I tell him. I know what I want. I know you want it too. I put my hands to the tops of his pants... They are pressed, with those sharp little seams, and smell of starch and cologne and of... Giles. I notice all of this while I'm pushing them to the floor. He doesn't try to stop me anymore. His boxers are silk, and dark blue. I run my hand over the tent made by his manhood. And Giles groans, as a shiver shakes through him. His hands grip the side of the table behind him for support. His knuckles are white with tension... and I kiss them as I kneel before Giles, my hands caressing silk.

I have never felt such a feeling of power before. It's a heady feeling. I could drive him mad with pleasure with just the right touch, word, caress. I could drive us both mad with pleasure. I would...

And that's when I woke up. Sweat soaked, and sleep tangled in my covers, clutching a pillow as if for dear life... I was so disappointed I started to cry. But then I realized that it had been my watch alarm that had dragged me from my dream. I'd gone home after school and sacked out almost immediately. Because I'd been up all the night before researching with Giles... and was going back to the library later tonight. I'd set my alarm to wake me up so I could get there just after the cleaning crew left for the night. I had just enough time to get dressed and scoot.

Shakily, I dragged myself over to my closet and reached for the blouse, and wrapped skirt I planned to wear tonight...

Fini