9. Love and Lust
Previously on What the F…? Everyone is getting it on, the boys on Giles bed, Buffy in her bath and at Willy's, the other three girls on the mats in the training room at the Magic Box. Our big bad is doing some more chanting and smoke making.
Now read on…
Spike lay on his back, a pillow under his hips, his legs spread wide. He was in a delirium of sensations. His back arched in pleasure and need, head pressed back into the pillows, eyes closed, mouth open, low moans and the odd filthy word coming from it. Xander was latched onto one of his breasts, suckling like a babe that had not fed in an age all the while, fondling Spike's cock and balls with one hand and his own with the other. Giles was at the end of the bed, between his legs, lovingly preparing him with long, lubed fingers, that delved deep between the cheeks of his spread ass.
He felt the fingers withdraw and then a larger, rounder, hardness pressed against his entrance, seeking entry. He arched further back, pushed his thighs down and out, relaxed his inner muscles, opening himself to welcome the Watcher's, no, Rupert's, cock, into him. He felt the head nudge the outer ring, press forward; felt the stretch and burn as he was breached, opened, entered; felt his muscles protest the invasion before he could once again relax them, and accept Rupert into his body. As always, on a first encounter, he was tight, and even with the thorough, unexpected preparation, the first penetration was one of pain, overlaying an intense feeling of invasion, before his body conceded to his demands to relax, lay back and think of England. He groaned loudly at the sensation of being filled, of being possessed, of belonging.
Giles pushed in slowly until the long, full length of his cock was fully seated, and his balls hung against Spike's cool flesh. He paused, allowing his partner to adjust, feeling the walls around his member clenching hard and then opening, relaxing, welcoming him in. The channel was tight, virginal tight, causing the sweetest sensations to vibrate through his shaft. It had been so long since he had been with a man. He'd quite forgotten the intensity of it, the feeling of solid contact along the full length, that a young, virginal male's channel afforded. He raised an eye at the thought. Had Spike been a virgin when he was turned or had he not been with a male since his turning? He thought the former more likely.
With this thought in mind, he raised his hips, withdrew slowly, then pushed forward again, not quite as slow as the first entry, but carefully, never the less. He wanted to enjoy this, and, strangely, he wanted his partner to enjoy it as well. He rotated his hips a little as he pushed back in and was rewarded with a moan. He felt the walls around his cock loosen a little more; felt the quivering muscles in the thighs beneath, relax; felt the hips under him lift a little, to meet him. He withdrew again, a little quicker this time, drawing back almost to the tip and then pushed home, quicker, harder. He felt, rather than heard, the loud, deep moan of satisfaction, of need, from his partner, felt it vibrate through his body and meet his own, intense moan of pleasure and lust.
Spike opened his eyes, lifted his head and looked into Giles' eyes above him. They looked at each other as they continued to move together, Xander between them, running his hands and tongue over any part of either man, he could reach. His body was alive with sensation, every nerve singing with lust, with need, with a deep feeling of desire. He reached above him to grab at the rails in the headboard. His body arched as the cock within him, rubbed again and again against that little bundle of nerves given to every man. He rocked his hips up to meet every thrust and twist of the man above him. He was sure he'd never felt this wanted, this owned.
The three moved in a frenzy of desire, lust, need, causing the bed to rock loudly, against the wall. They were each of them, lost to the sensations coursing through their bodies. None of them noticed the blue mist that had seeped into the room, circled the bed, covering it and the men on it.
Giles felt his release building and slammed more frantically into Spike. The vampire's hips rose to meet every thrust, twisting and rotating to match his movements. The sensations coursing through his cock, radiated out through his body, making him groan at the feelings surging through him. He stared into those blue eyes, feeling himself falling into an abyss, where he existed only through his cock. He felt the tightness of the channel that surrounded it, clenching, sucking, drawing it in, the smoothness of the walls, the slide of the slick. He felt the essence that was him, coiling and building behind his balls. As he looked into Spike's eyes, he saw a strange red glow building in the iris' of the vampire.
Spike gasped and forced his hips up to meet Giles' downward strokes. He felt completed, whole, needed, wanted. He'd never felt like this before. He felt his channel clutch and release the cock that surged against his sweet spot over and over. He felt his, he would have said soul but that was wrong, obviously, his essence, his very being, being drawn into that spot, the watcher's cock lovingly rubbed. He stared into the blue eyes above him, except they were no longer entirely blue. There was a red glow shining around the pupils.
The two men called out in ecstasy as they climaxed together, Giles releasing warm, sticky fluids, deep within Spike and Spike releasing the same, all over Xander, who was still between them. Not to be left out, Xander released his own juices over Spike and the bed beneath them.
…
Willow moaned loudly as she lay back on the training room mats. It was her turn to have the attentions of her two partners, licking and sucking her body. Her lover, Tara, was ministering to the hot, wet core of her sex, while Anya worshiped her nipples with her tongue and teeth. Her arms were flung wide across the floor as she writhed to the sensations coursing through her. She couldn't ever have enough of this.
Tara sighed in total bliss and pushed her tongue further into Willow's centre, feeling the juices coat her chin. She sucked the hard nub into her mouth, pushed it against her teeth with the top of her tongue and felt Willow buck under her. Above her, she felt Anya moving over her lover's body and she reached a hand towards Anya's core. She was rewarded with a loud moan and felt a wet release coat her fingers. She'd never known such utter freedom and love.
Anya felt herself exploding around Tara's fingers. She released the nipple she had been teasing between her teeth and turned to take Willow's mouth in a hard and passionate kiss, as her body shuddered out her orgasm. Their tongues twined round each other, tasting, exploring. Willow tensed before she found her own release, her juices coating Tara's face, still buried deep between her legs.
Tara drank in Willow's fluids, her tongue laving at the pulsing inner walls. She felt her own slipperiness gather deep inside herself, as her partners shuddered their releases, above and under her. She felt Willow move, felt her arms reaching for her, and she lifted her head, her face shining and wet. Willows arms slid under hers and pulled her up towards the other two. Anya joined in and soon the three of them were face to face, kissing, licking, sucking as they rolled and writhed on the floor. Fingers entered wet curls, stroked quivering raw lips, sensitive hoods, even more sensitive cores.
The three moved as one, seemingly beginning where another finished, indistinguishable, joined together in all the right places and the sounds of sex ebbed and flowed through the subtly tinted blue mist that seeped through the training room and hovered over the trio on the mats.
…
Buffy shoved Willy's smirking face back, away from her. She crouched a little and then sprang up and over the bar, swinging her legs out sideways as she cleared it, to land softly on the floor beside the open mouthed bar owner. She grabbed him by the ear and dragged him along behind her, as she stalked toward the back room.
"Agh, agh! Slayer, easy on the ear." Willy groaned in pain. It was exquisite! The Slayer's tiny hand gripped his ear with the precision and pain of a steel clamp. God, what would she do to his nipples, with those hands. He just knew it would be better than any nipple clamp he'd ever worn.
The Slayer dragged her informant through into the back room, turned, and slammed the door shut. The patrons seated around the bar tables, had watched this happen, following the action avidly and now most stared at the closed door. As one they turned to the others they were with and began low conversations.
"Ten kittens we don't see the little human again."
"I'll take that. The Slayer doesn't kill humans. She might rough him up a bit though. Five kittens she breaks a leg."
They started arguing amongst themselves. Chairs were pushed back, demon, shoved demon. A couple of the smarter ones started towards the bar, to help themselves. The door to the back room opened and Buffy stepped out into the main room.
"Okay everyone. If you want to leave here tonight in one piece, you'll all sit quietly and carry on doing what you were doing, before I came in. Unless it was bad, then, you know, don't carry on doing it. And no freebies either." She glared at the two demons standing at the end of the bar. They held up their hands and backed away. With a final glaring sweep of the room, she turned, went back into the back room and closed the door.
Willy stood where she had left him, in the middle of the space. He licked his lips, eyes glinting strangely in the light from the bare bulb, overhead. She looked around the room at the bottle stacked shelves, cartons stacked against the wall, scarred, messy desk at the back. She shook herself and wondered what the heck she was doing there.
"Um, Slayer?" Her eyes came back to her 'source' and suddenly she didn't want to be there at all. He disgusted her and she didn't want to be around him a minute longer. If she stayed, she knew she would pull that revolting tongue clean out of his head. She turned toward the door.
"Ah, Slayer? Aren't you going to rough me up a bit? Find out what I know? Maybe smack me around?"
She stopped, drew in a breadth, felt her shoulders tense, lift. She spun and punched the man in the face and was turning back to the door before he'd even hit the back wall. She opened the door, left the room, stalked through the bar without so much as a glance at anyone and left. She knew what she needed, or rather who.
Willy slid to the floor, shook his head, felt the side of his face where he knew a shiner was beginning to build. Blood was beginning to trickle from the split lip and the back of his head felt quite tender, where it had hit the wall. Bitch! A smile stretched across his face. "Thanks, Slayer. See you next time."
…
The smoke had entirely left the room, the flames in the bowl had died away and the candles were beginning to splutter, as they burned down toward nothing. The man calling himself, Greg Hill, better known to the world as Ethan Rayne, chaos mage extraordinaire, sat in the centre of the circle. His shoulders were slumped, his head hanging down. The spell had taken quite a bit from him, more than he had expected. He felt the bone weariness of his limbs, knew that, at the moment, his legs would not support him, if he tried to stand.
So he sat, staring at the floor, the statues of Faunas and Silenus standing in front of him. His thoughts ran ahead to the ultimate fruition of his plans, and a thin smile began to spread across his lips. It wouldn't be long now and he would have what he'd so long wanted. He would have his revenge on Ripper, for abandoning him.
Some movement caught the corner of his eye and he looked up. Was it his imagination that the two statues now appeared to be looking at each other? Had the expression on their hard faces changed? Surely the light was playing tricks on him. They weren't really smiling at each other, were they? He had not as yet, noticed the dark shadow growing, in the far corner of the room.
…
