Old Times #4
Dropping heavily into a chair opposite the object of his unsettling thoughts, Angelus stretched out a leg and brought his booted foot down on top of Spike's. Slinging his other leg over the arm of his seat, he wriggled back into the cushions and made himself comfortable. Eyelids almost closing, but furtively observing Spike from beneath them, he took a firmer grip on his swollen cock, holding the shaft with one hand, rubbing circles around the naturally lubricated head with the other. Moving up and down the shaft, stroking the head against the back of his hand; tightening his grip, increasing his stroking speed...
Spike found himself almost mesmerized by the rhythmic motions, the sharply remembered sensations. He could smell the pre-cum, see it glistening on Angelus' cock and fingers, was suddenly stabbed with an acute sense of loss and want. Tearing his eyes away, he attempted to manoeuvre the chair back, and to turn. To retreat to the bedroom, with its flickering candlelight and the air heady with Dru's favourite scent. To wait for her return, to whisper his need to her, for her naturally pale lips – expertly painted a rich, seductive plum for his admiration – to stretch around his sleeping cock, bring it back to life........
A growing pressure, heavy and low in his gut, made him believe she maybe could do it, that he could maybe do it.......
"Oh no Spike, stay and remind yourself what you've been missing" Angelus growled out, jerking his hips a little as he increased the pace of his pleasure. Eyes glinting maliciously, fixed on Spike, even as his body rushed headlong towards his now inevitable climax.
Spike was unable to feel the weight on his foot, but he knew it was hard and heavy enough to prevent him getting away without a struggle. And Angelus would not take too kindly to being so rudely interrupted now. Nothing for it then. He yawned, feigned a bored, careless expression. "You going to finish anytime soon then? Things to do, minions to taunt, you know.... If you haven't managed to get them all killed, that is."
But the sensations in the pit of his stomach intensified as he stole furtive glances at Angelus, and his mind was filled with images of first Drusilla, then her sire, devouring him, enveloping him, teasing him, torturing him, making him writhe with pain and lust. They were memories, not fantasies. Disturbing in their clarity and detail.
And then of he and Angelus alone. In a mineshaft. Somewhere in Yorkshire, he thought it had been. The women out doing what they did best, next to fucking. The men left behind. Squabbling, taunting each other, brawling... their special brand of foreplay....
And yes, there was life there. A subtle shifting, a slight thickening. But he could feel it, he could! As this realisation struck, Angelus came at last, noisily and messily, eyes fixed on Spike all the while.
Dropping heavily into a chair opposite the object of his unsettling thoughts, Angelus stretched out a leg and brought his booted foot down on top of Spike's. Slinging his other leg over the arm of his seat, he wriggled back into the cushions and made himself comfortable. Eyelids almost closing, but furtively observing Spike from beneath them, he took a firmer grip on his swollen cock, holding the shaft with one hand, rubbing circles around the naturally lubricated head with the other. Moving up and down the shaft, stroking the head against the back of his hand; tightening his grip, increasing his stroking speed...
Spike found himself almost mesmerized by the rhythmic motions, the sharply remembered sensations. He could smell the pre-cum, see it glistening on Angelus' cock and fingers, was suddenly stabbed with an acute sense of loss and want. Tearing his eyes away, he attempted to manoeuvre the chair back, and to turn. To retreat to the bedroom, with its flickering candlelight and the air heady with Dru's favourite scent. To wait for her return, to whisper his need to her, for her naturally pale lips – expertly painted a rich, seductive plum for his admiration – to stretch around his sleeping cock, bring it back to life........
A growing pressure, heavy and low in his gut, made him believe she maybe could do it, that he could maybe do it.......
"Oh no Spike, stay and remind yourself what you've been missing" Angelus growled out, jerking his hips a little as he increased the pace of his pleasure. Eyes glinting maliciously, fixed on Spike, even as his body rushed headlong towards his now inevitable climax.
Spike was unable to feel the weight on his foot, but he knew it was hard and heavy enough to prevent him getting away without a struggle. And Angelus would not take too kindly to being so rudely interrupted now. Nothing for it then. He yawned, feigned a bored, careless expression. "You going to finish anytime soon then? Things to do, minions to taunt, you know.... If you haven't managed to get them all killed, that is."
But the sensations in the pit of his stomach intensified as he stole furtive glances at Angelus, and his mind was filled with images of first Drusilla, then her sire, devouring him, enveloping him, teasing him, torturing him, making him writhe with pain and lust. They were memories, not fantasies. Disturbing in their clarity and detail.
And then of he and Angelus alone. In a mineshaft. Somewhere in Yorkshire, he thought it had been. The women out doing what they did best, next to fucking. The men left behind. Squabbling, taunting each other, brawling... their special brand of foreplay....
And yes, there was life there. A subtle shifting, a slight thickening. But he could feel it, he could! As this realisation struck, Angelus came at last, noisily and messily, eyes fixed on Spike all the while.