I'm taking a little break, expect next chapter in about a week. I've been writing and uploading as quickly as possible, really trying to work towards the first adult-themed Buffy/Spike chapter. For myself and any readers.
That's out of the way with this chapter, so I will be slowing the pace slightly. Too many life responsibilities to continue writing at this pace indefinitely.Anyways, hope you enjoy.Buffy made no effort to slow the travel of the crypt door that slammed behind her. She wasn't worried about surprising Spike. She knew he smelled her, or at least heard her, well before she reached the outer steps of the place he called home.
"Slayer."
"Spike" she replied.
He was sitting on the couch, something playing at a low volume on the television that he clearly wasn't paying attention to. His right hand was bandaged. Apparently, the damage to his left hand wasn't as severe and he decided to simply let his vampiric healing take care of it.
There were a few deep cuts on the right side of his face, along with another along his jawline. Those seemed new.
Had he been on a tear all night? Pissed off at himself for what he did stumbling from one fight to the next? She hadn't seen him in Sunnyvale Cemetery or Shady Hill. Same for the others. She checked by his crypt in Restfield a few times, only close enough she could sense the tingles on the back of her neck if he was inside as she walked by. He wasn't home the first three times. It was past one in the morning now. Maybe Willy's was on fire right now, or at least had some broken tables and barstools.
Spike leaned back and placed his arms along the back of the couch.
"Sorry love, not in the mood." Spike motioned towards the entrance of his crypt with his head. "My nights been right awful so far, and I don't need you piling on."
"Spike, I'm not-" Buffy started.
"Did my bloody part. Honored our arrangement. Then some. What more you want from a bloke?" He growled out.
"Spike, you saved them."
"Leave, Slayer." Spike's words were harsh. "Lil' team up done for now. Get out."
He turned his head away from her.
Spike was suddenly interested in whatever the old television was playing. It was clear that even public broadcast television would be preferable to him right now than listening to her.
She stood there silently. Not sure what to say or do. His body language and expression said anger, plenty of it, but she could tell there was disappointment as well. At himself no doubt. It made sense to Buffy. He was fully against being a "good guy" at this point, vehemently non-Scooby. She remembered dozens of comments about him "not being some bloody white hat" around this time on the first attempt.
Spike probably didn't care that they survived. That his actions saved them. He only cared about being able to let the demon out to play, beating up on his own kind the only way to scratch the itch in a way the chip would allow. Still, he probably felt like he was a piss poor demon, half-demon actually, and he most likely still cared about that a lot at this point.
He probably felt like Drusilla was right. He probably felt like his actions let the crazy vampire down.
Buffy pushed down a surge of jealousy that rose up at the thought of Spike's psychotic sire.
Her next actions were led by that jealousy. It was either that or a decade of pent-up sexual frustration that had reached a fever pitch ever since she popped back in time and back to Spike. Her brain and better judgement cried out, but she found the willpower to power through and make them silent as she stepped towards him.
She had tip-toed around this long enough. She was done. She knew what she wanted.
Spike didn't love her, not yet, but she didn't care. She needed him, absolutely craved him, and she was going to show him exactly how much.
She hoped he wouldn't refuse her. Hoped the demon, and the man, craved physical touch enough they would overlook who was satisfying the urge. She hoped. A man. A demon, or a combination. None of those needed to be love to allow this to happen.
She closed the distance between them, only stopping when her legs were almost touching his knees, reaching out to grab one of the small pillows at the nearest end of the couch. The crypt floor was solid concrete, and even though these knees hadn't seen as much wear and tear as the ones she left behind, she didn't want to risk it.
"Bloody hell Slayer, what- "
"You saved Will and Xander today." Buffy interrupted. She dropped the pillow down onto Spike's feet. He conveniently opened his legs slightly out of reflex as he readjusted himself nervously on the couch.
"What are-"
"And I know," Buffy interrupted. She made sure to maintain eye contact with Spike as she dropped her right knee down onto the pillow. "You don't care and you weren't trying to."
She felt Spike jump as she placed her hands on his upper legs, careful to avoid the injury on his right thigh. She spread them slowly and readjusted herself between them, her left knee finding its place next to her right.
She spoke quickly so Spike wouldn't interrupt, not that it was possible as he was quickly losing the ability to speak. "I know, beating up on vamps and demons is just a release, since you can't feed...and you love a spot of violence."
Buffy's hand quickly found their way up to his belt.
"Slayer," He managed to grunt out, doing his best to hide the desire he was feeling. "What are you doing love?"
She couldn't help but smirk at him, almost victoriously as she undid his belt with relative ease. No words, she was going to let her actions do all the talking.
His mind went back to that dream he had in the Watcher's godforsaken bathroom. That dream. Was he dreaming now? He had to be.
She felt a sudden wave of shyness, keeping her eyes on the job at hand and away from Spike's. His button popped and the zipper reached the end of its travel. She pulled down his pants and boxer briefs to mid-thigh, Spike being ever so kind as to raise his hips slightly off the couch to make it easier for her.
She heard him sigh as his cock was finally freed from its cotton prison. Another, louder exclamation as she took it into her right hand and began to gently stroke him. She found it hard to breath as she watched him quickly grow.
She couldn't believe she forgot. In all the memories, dreams, and flashback assisted masturbation sessions over the years...she forgot. She remembered how incredible the sex was, but her mind had somehow managed to forget how perfect Spike's cock was as well. Big, enough so that she suddenly remembered she could use her second hand. Another moan escaped him as her left joined her right hand in wrapping itself around his shaft. He was big, but not so much she couldn't handle his entire length when wet, turned on, and he eased her into it. Thick as well, if for nothing else that proper proportions.
Finally, she managed to look up at Spike. She saw his face, pure awe and amazement at her and what she was doing. The way he used to always look at her, and not just in the bedroom. The way she was sure Spike was looking at her the entire time her eyes were focused below.
She saw his walls go up. The almost innocent, loving expression turning into his patented smirk, his right eyebrow raising slightly to offset his left.
"Knew you wanted me Slayer." He said. "Since that very first night at- "
"No," Buffy said suddenly, releasing his member from her hands as it started to dropped slightly, but managed to stand on its own out of sheer excitement.
Spike didn't have the urge to continue with his snarky remark. The only thought on his mind was how badly he needed her touch the second she removed it.
"No," She repeated, maintaining eye contact the entire time. "Okay?"
Spike wasn't completely sure what he was agreeing to, but immediately nodded. "Okay."
"Look," She said, taking him back into her hands. Quickly, she touched her lips to his head, opening her mouth and slowly licking the underside all the way up to the tip. "First thing, no Slayer. I can be Slayer out there...when we are doing what we normally do. But right now, like this, when I'm on my knees worshipping your cock." She gave him one more quick lick that sent a spasm through his body. "It's Buffy, okay?"
The look of awe was back in his eyes. He nodded. "Buffy."
She smiled as she removed her left hand, exposing some of the length of his cock and giving her more to work with. Slowly, she took him into her warm mouth. She made it down the first few inches, her mouth impossibly far from reaching where her right hand was located. She couldn't go any further, at least not at this exact moment. At some point in the past, or more accurately the future, she had managed to learn how to take almost all of Spike down her throat. It was difficult, and some part of her was quite proud of that ability. She was rusty and out of practice, but wasn't going to let that stop her.
She slid her throat back up his length, stopping once her lips were in contact with the base of his head. Again, she took as much as Spike in as she could, reflexively letting out a gag as she hit the soft wall she couldn't go past.
"Fuck, Buffy." Spike moaned, and she was pleased to hear his approval.
She had a rhythm now, and managed a few more travels up and down before another spasm hit her throat when she reached her limit. Buffy took him out of her mouth, taking in a deep breath. She wiped away a string of spit connecting her lower lip to his shaft with her left hand.
"Second thing." She said, coughing softly to clear her throat. "No snark."
Spike mouth fell open slightly, no response.
"No need," She continued, making sure her right hand never stopped stroking his dick, now adequately wet from her spit, as she looked at the man completely oblivious she was in love with him. She knew the saying about truth being in every lie, and sometimes, hidden in Spike's snarky questions and statements, were actual questions he was desperate to know the answer to.
She decided to answer the questions he was most likely to ask under the guise of being a smart ass, and would do it without prompting. "Yes, you're my biggest. Than anyone I've been with. No, I don't wish you were Angel. Even better than I imagined."
She couldn't honestly read his expression, but she noticed a slight glimmer in his eyes. "You like it Buffy?" He asked. There was confidence, and perhaps a touch of ego, but no sarcasm or snark. And she knew what it he was referring to.
She nodded. "It's perfect." Without another word, she took him back into her mouth.
"Third thing?" He asked, immediately cursing himself as she raised back up off him.
"Huh?" She started, "Oh. No, that's it."
Buffy readjusted her hips, dropping them down slightly. Now, as she lowered her mouth past the head of his erection, she was able to look him in his eyes, and he almost fainted.
It was incredible. The Slayer...no, Buffy. The fiercest, strongest women he had ever met. Yeah, he sort of hated her. They were mortal enemies, but he couldn't help but have some admiration and respect towards her. The strongest, fiercest women on her knees, worshipping his cock, and those were her words not his.
She wasn't capable of doing anything half-assed, and this was included. That's what was driving him crazy. More than the actual act itself. Her effort...how she was devouring him like a starving woman, no hesitation, just effort and wanting and doing. Like this was the most important task in the world right now, one that she love performing.
Incredible.
Her pace was moderate now, and she powered through the occasional gag when she took him in to her absolute limit. Her eyes were beginning to water up, but she kept going and sped up the pace slightly. The occasional soft, muffled moan that escaped her lips were music to his ears. Finally, she came up for air.
"Bloody...god Buffy," He encouraged, "Keep doing that love."
She had no intention of stopping.
A few, quick pants as she stared at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes and gave a small nod. The whole time never forgetting to continue running her hand up and down his throbbing pipe.
"God, Spike." She moaned out, still slightly out of breathe. "You're big."
Spike reached out, touching her cheek for a moment and being surprised she didn't flinch away. He couldn't find words.
"Do you like it?" She asked, a little uncertainty in her words betraying the confidence in her actions.
"Perfect, love. Perf- Incredible." He couldn't find words to adequately describe the amazing things she was doing.
She smirked.
Spike couldn't help but throw his head back as Buffy continued. He wasn't lying. Drusilla almost never did him the honor, it was always about her pleasure. If oral activities were ever on the docket, it was always him spending time between her legs in servitude, which wasn't returned. The others, the handful of fledgling vampires and human women he had been with, performance was nowhere in the realm of being comparable to Buffy.
He was sure none were as enthusiastic. To top it off, no pun intended, he was well aware of his larger than average size. Besides from one professional lady he purchased for the evening during a stint with Dru down in Brazil, which of course he drained afterwards and took his money back off her corpse, none came to mind that were able to take him deeper. She was taking more than half his full length in and that was impressive in its own right. And it wasn't really a fair comparison, because that Brazilian probably could have shoved her arm down her throat to at least the elbow with little difficulty. Decades of experience on that one, and that made it rather mundane and a far cry from incredible.
Buffy was incredible.
He managed to gather his wits and look back down at the act of God being performed. She must have felt his gaze return, because she immediately stared up at him as his cock gently grazed the back of her throat every second or so. It was a thing of beauty.
He felt it beginning, the body sensation starting to build, and immediately started making sure he wasn't focusing too much on how incredible this was. Had it even been two minutes? It had been a long time since he was with a woman, and recent life events didn't really leave much time for a quick wank either. Buffy deserved most the credit, but his substandard stamina at the moment was also due to lack of use.
This was the worst part. The less he focused on it the longer it would last at this point. Still, it had to be a sin to get to experience something like this and not bask in it? To get to experience Buffy in this way and not soak in every detail. For however much he sometimes reveled in his evil acts, even he had limits. However, if he actually enjoyed it, took in all the sights, sounds, and all the sensations, he would likely spill his load before any minute.
A slight pain, very slight but uncomfortable none the less, brought him back into the moment. Again, he felt it. A third time as Buffy pushed her throat down on top of him harder than she had been previously.
Two things happened. Spike decided he was going to tell Buffy to be a little more gentle. It was amazing but too intense. The other thing was feeling a slight give in her throat, and a slight tightening, and he couldn't help but watch in amazement as her tight little mouth slid further down his cock than ever.
Her eyes fluttered shut, as she did her best to massage the area of his cock that had previously been unreachable. Spike could feel her throat spasming, rapidly tightening and loosening as she fought as hard as possible not to relinquish the territory she fought so hard to win.
She had no shame, not that she should, because what she was doing was deserving of praise...and her mouth was making so much spit that it couldn't contain that his cock and balls were soaked at this point.
A hard gag caused her to retreat, rapidly removing his entire length from her throat, for which he was internally grateful for. Another few seconds and he wouldn't have been able to hold out and would have reached the point of no return.
She coughed a few times, which only caused her teary eyes to water more.
"I'm sorry." She rasped out, and Spike had never thought she sounded sexier then in that moment.
"For what love?" He asked incredulously. She had absolutely nothing to be sorry for.
"I can't go that deep," She managed, coughing again as she wiped her left hand across her nose. "I can, but, not for long."
"Pet," Spike said in a soft voice. "You're incredible. Everything you're doing is incredible."
"Really?" She asked.
Spike smiled and nodded. In this moment, it wasn't Slayer and vampire. Honestly, it wasn't even Buffy and Spike. It was him and this incredibly goddess granting him kindness he knew he didn't deserve. A goddess that was somehow only sexier with her confidence and simultaneous pensiveness. The audacity of this woman to give him an earth-shattering blowjob and still ask him to make sure he liked it, as if it wasn't somehow exceptional.
"Really, love. 'Nother couple seconds, I was done. No stopping myself."
"From cumming? I was going to make you cum?" She asked, again in that sweet, almost unsure voice that was driving him crazy. Hand pumping up and down his cock like a dirty girl, eyes searching his own like a sweet, innocent girl. The contrast drove him crazy.
He could only nod, fiercely.
She didn't hesitate to lower her mouth back down onto his cock. She went down as far as she could without excessive effort, back to the limit of her comfortable range. Back up, then back down again, fluttering her eyes lashes as she looked at Spike. Slowly, she built up the tempo.
His eyes rolled in the back of his head. He could dust at any second, burning up. Spike could feel his climax beginning to build. Much faster now.
She went faster still, exceeding her tempo before their brief interlude. Her eyes closed as she kept thrusting his cock into her mouth, causing the sexiest, little muffled throat sound each time she reached the end of a downstroke. It wasn't fair and it was going to make him cum even quicker.
"Buffy, I'm close." Spike rasped.
She mumbled something, completely unintelligibly, but Spike took is as acknowledgement from her. Yet, she didn't stop.
"Pet." He said quickly. He was expecting her to retreat and assist him over the edge with her hand at any second. She was quickly running out of time.
She didn't stop.
"I'm gonna cum." He said again. "Buffy,"
He felt it again, his cock sliding further down her throat than should be possible which sent him careening over the cliff top.
"Bloody hell," He exclaimed, words stretching out as he threw his head back. Her tight throat seemed to barely give him cock enough room to ejaculate, and the first pulse, that fired the first salvo of cum down her throat was met by the sensation of her throat tightening down around his shaft, almost forcefully pulling the cum out of him.
Spike pulled his head up as a second wave hit him. He had to see what was happening, in case it looked half as amazing as it felt. The sight didn't disappoint.
"Fuck Buffy," He exclaimed.
She was suffering through it, selfless in her devotion, doing everything in her power to make his orgasm feel as amazing as possible. He almost felt bad as her head and shoulder heaved slightly with each subsequent rope he shot down her throat, but she refused to yield. Refused to move. Fighting through every gag, refusing to come up for air. Finally, when his orgasm had ceased, she pulled her mouth off his still pulsating dick.
He couldn't help but watch as Buffy kept her mouth only a few inches away from his tip, gasping for breath. His eyes widened as a small amount of him, mostly semen mixed with a little of her spit, dribbled out of her mouth and landed on his crotch. That was all that was left.
Buffy couldn't catch her breath, and she could feel her heart pounding. The exertion and the pure intensity of the moment to blame. The way Spike was looking at her didn't help, but she took it for what it was. It wasn't a look of love, he was nowhere near that, and what man wouldn't look at a woman that way in this exact moment? It was afterglow, not a realization of the heart.
She wanted to bask in it. Her own afterglow, not post-orgasm, just post-Spike. Touching him, feeling him, pleasing him. And she didn't break from the situation completely and allow it to get awkward. Besides, she was enjoying every second of it, didn't want it to end. She looked down at his large cock, still brandished in her hand, and at the mess she made. She licked down the side of his shaft, lapping up the small amount of cum that escaped her mouth moments before. Spike let out a few moans as she kissed his soft skin, working her way back towards the tip.
The look on his face remained, but he was getting fidgety. She didn't know if it was how sensitive he surely was, the reality of the situation setting in, or both. All she knew was she would rather not be in her current position when the awkwardness inevitably came.
She leaned back, still kneeling, but now not hunched over Spike. Her knees hurt, and probably had for a while without being noticed.
"Do you," she coughed out, noting that her throat would probably be sore for a bit from the overzealous effort. "Something to drink?"
She rose to her feet as Spike leaned over and grabbed a beer bottle off the small end table beside the couch. He quickly handed it to her.
It was almost empty, and she wondered for a brief moment how long it had been there. Still, she took a few sips and it helped as she hoped.
"Mmmm," she mumbled. "Room temperature beer."
There it was, on cue.
There was the awkwardness, even Spike felt as his eyes nervously bounced around the crypt. Truth be told, he probably felt more uncomfortable then she did. She was at least clothed. He was still sitting there on his junkyard couch, pants taut around mid-thigh, and his dick hadn't even gone soft yet. It could be worse.
He quickly lifted his hips, sliding his pants and underwear back over his legs and crotch. He fumbled, but quickly tucked himself away, zipped, buttoned, and redid his belt.
She realized now was as good a time to escape as any. The thought of running away didn't sit right with her. Buffy promised herself, long ago, she would never use Spike like before, to give her what she needed and then be out the door before he was even fully dressed.
This escape from the crypt was much different though. Not like the others times at all.
Before, she was ashamed of what she did. She was anything but that now. Before, Spike loved her. He didn't love her currently and probably wanted her to leave worse than she wanted to. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, it was always for her satisfaction before, never his.
She would have enough orgasms to scratch the itch and then leave, a few times not even allowing Spike the kindness of finishing. It was anything but that this time. It was all about him, because she wanted it to be. Thanks to that, she would definitely have to take care of her current situation later, alone, either with her bedroom shower running or a pillow on standby to stick her face into just in case. Maybe moan out his name some more even though he wouldn't be there to hear it this time.
Spike stood up. He managed to look her in the eyes, and his face held all the conflicting emotions she knew he was feeling. She needed to leave, but she needed to say something. Something much more substantial than commentary on lukewarm beer.
"What you did," She started, taking a step towards him. He didn't back up, frozen in place, and less than half a foot separated them. "I know it may have meant nothing to you. But it meant something to me."
She wanted to kiss him, but she faltered. Which was completely ridiculous. She was mere moments removed from performing her best impression of a pornstar, no, better than an impression. She was one for him, or at least tried her best to be. Now, she was to afraid to kiss the man who a minute ago she swallowed. It was beyond silly.
Spike froze as Buffy moved towards him. Her lips were soft, with the slightest lingering taste of what had transpired between them. Honestly, he didn't mind. The kiss was chaste, lasting only a second before she pulled away.
"Thank you." Buffy said.
Spike could tell she had something left to say as she took a small step back from him. If she did, Buffy decided against it. Turning, she walked towards the entrance to your crypt.
"Where you goin'?" He called out.
She gave him a blank stare for a moment, then a casual shrug. "Patrol, then home."
She didn't say anything else as she turned. Walking through the door, letting it slam behind her. The crypt grew quiet as the reverberation faded away.
Spike stood there. Buffy rushed through the graveyard, trying to get as far away as possible. The physical distance between them rapidly increased, but they were thinking roughly the same thing.
What the hell did she just do?