DISCLAIMER: No infringement of copyright is intended. You know the drill, anyone appearing on or mentioned on BtVS are ME's.
RATING: M
PAIRING: Anyanka/Clem
SUMMARY: You can't judge a demon by its covering.
WARNINGS and or SPOILERS: Demon sex
Number Eight and Counting
by Eris © 2005 — All rights reserved.
"Clem your penises are amazing!" Anyanka crowed completely flabbergasted. "I mean it." She threw up her hands registering utter astonishment, "Never in a million years would I have guessed you were that masterful." Then dropped back on the pillow positively, radiantly satisfied and thoroughly spent. "You'd never know it to look at you," she commented in her tactful way, pulling up the sheet, and primping her hair.
Clem just smiled contentedly at her and casually folded his arms behind his head, "Just goes to show you the old saying stands true. You can't judge a book by its wrinkled, spongy cover."
"How very factual," she agreed and continued in her less than subtle manner, "because honestly, and I'm sure you have to be well aware of this by now, you're hardly what one would call a handsome male specimen…" she paused a moment slightly confused, taking in his unexpected collapsing expression. Then remembered her ex's words about the male ego versus libido, and quickly changed her tune. "Oh, except maybe by your species standards. That I wouldn't know." She shrugged honestly, then tilted her head and pursed her lips pondering his physique, "But we can do something about that with a little—" pausing, she looked him over a second time changing her mind, "—a lot of hard work and attention getting attire. You know what they say, clothes make the man." She chirped cheerfully, "Furthermore, you get extraordinarily high marks for being incredibly endowed, twice over, and being a total machine in the love-making department. That right there makes you a prize catch for any demoness." She sat up excitably, "I mean, seven times already you've pleasured me, and look at you. You're not even sweating. Heck, you're not even breathing hard after all that sex." Her demon features reflected coyness as much as possible, "And I know you gave it your all," she purred, placing a craggy hand on his pasty chest, "I'm tingly and sore in places I didn't even know I had to be tingly and sore in after eleven hundred and twenty-three years."
"It's true," he beamed proudly at her successful flattery. "Score one for the floppy-eared demons. Everyone makes sport of us. Tries to put us down, but it's only to cover their own inadequacies. What we lack in big badness we completely make up for in other more important areas." He smiled at her earnestly then lowered his gaze self-consciously, "And you're quite correct, I'm not a Brad Pitt-type, or a Mongore the Despicable, not even among my species. I know this." Raising his eyes to meet hers he then took her hand and squeezed it adoringly. "However, my stamina rivals, if not surpasses any of the strongest warrior Attar demons. So, anytime you're ready to go again, just say the word."
"Wha—" Her mouth hung open, "Already? You can't be—" But a quick glance down was proof enough positive. Anyanka gasped at the sight, and for the briefest, tenderest moment feared, she had finally met her libidinous match.
He coolly nodded his wrinkly head, waggled his brow ridge, and flapped his ears in eager anticipation.
Smirking lustily, her fear was swiftly trampled under mattress and replaced by thoughts of putting him to the challenge. "Okay, then. Now's good for me." She pulled him into position on top of her, "Let's go for number eight and see if we can achieve multiple orgasms this time, all right."
"Just this next time?" he asked innocently, grabbing her leg, "Or do you mean for the rest of the night? I can do whichever you like."
Anyanka's eyes rolled back in her head and she swore she had died and gone to cloud nine of demon heaven.