The Package

Part One

Spike knocked on the door with a debonair grin. It’d been a week since the tryst with the married couple behind door number one and he was aching to be on the receiving end of their special type of torture once more.



The apartment door swung open and Spike stared at the naked beauty before him.



“I hope you got the rest of the day off, big bad.” A smile twitched on Buffy’s lips as she latched onto his woollen lined vest, tugging him into the apartment.



“Hold up, love. Almost forgot the package.” He stuck his head back out as Buffy’s hands ran up and down the insides of his thighs. Spike grabbed the light, long, cylindrical, brown-paper-wrapped package that had leant next to his bike.

Closing the door, Spike turned to find the blonde woman spread eagled on the bed, running a string of pearls along the delicate pink skin folds that were drenched in the liquids streaming from her feminine temple.



“Where’s Mr Angelus, Mrs Angelus?” Spike prowled towards the bed, shedding his clothing as stalked closer to her delectable, glistening body.



“On his way, got caught up in the office. I don’t think he’ll mind if we start without him.” The pearls flicked sensually over her clitoris and back down along her labia to her begging hole. Her limbs twitched, preparing themselves for the pleasure that would corse through her body for the rest of the afternoon and well into the next morning. Her two boys had stamina.



“And who said you could do that, Mrs Buffy?”



She had slipped one of the hands that had been manipulating the pearls down to her pussy and was covering her fingers in the sweet, sweet liquid.



“I’m making you a treat, Spike. A nice juicy lollypop. Do you want to eat it now?”



Spike pounced on the bed, his mouth instantly finding her wet fingers. As he cleaned away his favourite meal from her hand, Buffy inquired about this week’s package.



“Dunno, love. Mr Angelus just gets me to deliver them.” Spike said when he’d finally finished licking every knuckle, crinkle and nail.



“Spike?”



“Hmm?”



His naughty tongue had worked its way up along her arm and down her chest. Her breasts perked into the air as the slithering appendage slicked a path between her nummy flesh mounts and down the plains of her taut tummy.



“Open the damn package before we start.”



Spike chuckled as she pushed him away. He fetched the pocket knife from his trousers and made quick work of the brown paper.



“Ahh. Umm. It’s…it’s bubble wrap.”



Spike turned at the full throated laugh from the gorgeous blonde bestrewn on the bed.



“Oh my, you two are in for such a treat tonight.” He raised his eyebrows. She responded by simply beckoning him forward. Not missing a beat, his knife sliced down strips of the bubble wrap that instantly had his mind in a very bad place.



“A treat, hey, love? Care to fill me in on any details?”



Before Buffy could answer, Spike had a long strip of bubble wrap covering her eyes. He deftly tied the long ends together behind her head. He saw her attempt to blink beneath the bubbles, one or two popping with the pressure of his knot.



“Can you see, love?”



“No, it’s blurry.”



“Good.”



His fingers blazed a trail up and down her calf, not allowing Buffy the pleasure of moving to her thighs.



“Oh, God. Spike, please.”

He grinned, hearing the begging he needed to hear.



Gently, he picked up the pearls and carefully flicked them against her skin, the hard wet beads stinging slightly as they left little round marks on her golden veneer. The taps and flicks were soon followed by firm presses of the pearls into her skin, leaving tiny indents to mark Spike’s way from breasts down to quim.



“Jesus, Spike!”



His patent smirk spread into full blown grin as Buffy’s overheated body blushed an appealing shade of red.



“One and the same, love.”



His threw the pearls to the side and leapt to capture her lips with his before Spike slowly slid into her. A low breath exhaled from the perfect lush flesh his tongue had just battled behind and run across.

The pressure was unbearable, the interior muscles of the woman beneath him were like the ridges of a piano accordion as it groaned and moaned in an aching rhythm. Cautiously, they started to play the carnal song as their flesh softly slapped t’other’s.



“Oh Christ, Buffy. It’s like…mother…oh man.”



“It’s like mother!” Her indignant tone almost halted their movements.



“Mother fucker!” He amended before finds his speech descended into blabbers murmured to her collarbone.



Their hands explored the soft skin of that hid daily behind the facade of their clothing before their fingers finding one another to tangle with. Spike let go of Buffy’s right hand to tickle his way down her soft silky skin; his harsh pads resting just above her clit.



He could feel her climbing the peak of orgasmic altitude and asked her a very important question.



“Buffy, do you trust me?”



Her reddened face nodded.



“I need you to say it, love.”



“I trust you, Spike.”


He let out the breath he’d been holding and picked up a strip of bubble wrap. The pops beneath his fingers sounded as the bubble wrap tightened around Buffy’s neck. The little air she’d sucked in through her nose clogged above the tight hold the popping plastic that Spike firmly gripped. Watching her cheeks redden further Spike was ready to crash over the precipice. As his hand tightened the plastic, the bubbles popped against her skin. The tremors caused by pops against her overheated neck ran down her insides until settling down her womb to light a fire Buffy tried to extinguish by squeezing Spike as hard as the plastic that held her throat.



Angel walked through at that very moment as his two lovers climaxed together, his cock instantly jumping up beneath the business suit pants. Spike’s hand slid away from the bubble wrap surrounding Buffy’s neck to remove her plastic blindfold.



“I see the package arrived and you’re making good use of it.”



Spike looked up from Buffy and grinned at the sleek looking man.



“Can make better use if you get your clothes off, right now.” Spike growled.



Buffy blinked sleepily at her men, her mind trying to watch the erotic display about to unfold instead of jumping into unconsciousness the sexy strangling had induced. But the choking had made her too light-headed and Buffy was shortly on her way to Sleepy Town. Drowsily, she moaned as Spike pulled out of her tight pussy.



Angel’s clothes instantly disappeared from his body as he neared the bed. The younger blonde man was obviously feeling dominant and Angel had no reason to stop Spike from doing whatever he desired.



“How do you want me?”



Spike’s strips of bubble wrap dangled from the fingers that beckoned Angel forward. The brown-eyed man looked down at the blondes on the bed and his cock jumped once more. Spike’s grin widened and his eyes twinkled. He grabbed Angel’s hips and pulled him the last step forward.



The plastic slid around Angel’s erect cock with a pop. “Bubble wrapped.”

TBC

The Package

Part Two

The large ream of bubble wrap was haphazardly leant against the bookcase, the many little plastic mounds wrapped up together in a tight circle, glistening in the afternoon sun that beamed out from behind the drawn curtains. A strip of the bubble wrap was scrunched up into a ball, the pops sounding from inside Angel’s mouth as he forgot he could only breathe through his nose.

“Come on, love. If you want to say something, say it.” Spike smirked as his hand teased up along the smooth defined abs in the larger man.

“Wass that? You want my pretty lil’ hands where?”

The evil pale digits slipped around the bronzed skin to slap Angel’s arse, which begged to be hit repeatedly as he arched towards Spike’s palm.

“My, my. Aren’t you a kinky bastard? Pity I’m in charge now.”

Angel clenched his eyes shut and Spike’s grin couldn’t help but blossom.

“Mr Angelus, I believe I’ve a special purpose for ya metre and a half roll a special plastic.”

Spike bounded away from a frozen Angel and proceeded to tear a straight long piece from the bubble wrap ream.

“Ya know wha’ ’m gunna to do? ’m gunna pop these bubbles one at a bloody time until ya coming all over the shiny little lil’ domes of poppy plastic. Then I’m gunna fuck ya so I can make you come again.”

Spike’s lovely bare legs, dusted with translucent hairs, stalked towards the shaking Angel who was immobilized in his own living room with his wife passed out on the bed. Angel couldn’t comprehend anything but the slick movement of muscles as each step brought Spike closer.

True to his word, Spike wrapped the bubble wrap in a condom-like sheath around Angel’s painfully erect penis. Then the slow torture began.

Soft touches, quick bites, longing kisses, blissful licks and erotic thrusts drove Angel to that crazy shower shelf edge, where his big body of bottled lust threatened to topple over and spill down into the drain. And then the popping began. One lick and then Spike’d press his thumb into a shiny bubble, the tiny vibration causing tremors to span from his cock up to under Angel’s ribcage. One nip and the thumb pressed down again, this time on the underside of his protruding member. One kiss and down went the thumb, right at the top of his head. One thrust and suddenly Angel was gone, the bubbles popping as stream after stream of come flooded the bubble wrap condom, each pop only intensifying the orgasm.

Spike’s eyes lit up at his shiny parcel that stemmed from the light package he’d brought through the door. Angel come sparkling, enticing, and begging to be used for further deviancies.

Spike quickly slicked the ridged plastic along his cock and over Angel’s pert and pleading bum, wet fingers testing the little hole for its scheduled breaching. When Angel was panting around his gag and ready, Spike slid in, revelling in the feeling of blissful heat and scorching cold within the one orifice. It was heaven and hell. Life and death. Santa and Satan. It was fucking A. For Spike. Angel had other difficulties. With every tap against his prostrate, Angel had re-risen to occasion, letting Spike slip the comed-all-over piece of bubble wrap around the base of Angel’s cock, tying tightly and securing it in a fierce boy-scout knot. Angel burned as the evil piece of plastic cut off the ability to come and Spike powered into him. Every…single…fucking…thrust made Angel want to scream blue murder to the moon but his bubble wrap gag was still firmly in his mouth, his harsh breaths burned quick and sharp through his nostrils. A sweaty sheen shined as Spike took him from behind, Angel’s limbs barely holding him off the floor. With one sharp thrust, Spike’s body grew taut and he slipped out the sexy hole of opposites to remove the bubble wrap cock ring and stroke Angel to a second orgasm.

Buffy’s eyes opened to allow her the pleasure of watching her men come like crazy all over her throw rugs. Her eyes dipped shut in faux-sleep when they crawled up onto the bed after completing their sticky pleasure. Eying the dormant bubble wrap ream, Buffy’s let her lips inch into a wicked grin as the men descended into slumber.

****

The men awoke to a persistent giggle, ardently permeating the thick haze that had descended upon the large bed.

“Pet, what are you doing?” Spike tried to blink but his sight was still strangely blocked.

“Mhrgharmmph.” Angel muffled a similar question, nuzzled into Spike’s chest.

“You’ll,” Cough, “see.” Giggle.

“Why can’t I see now, love?” Spike tried to lift his hand up to take away the silk blindfold. His fingers were quickly smacked.

“Cause you’re not allowed to see what I’m going to be doing to you. Now, both of you stand up.”

Spike obeyed his cheeky little mistress, prodding the big oaf that wouldn’t remove himself from Spike’s chest.

“Oi, sod, get off.”

Stumbling and mumbling, the men blindly ascended from the wide bed and a dainty hand grasped their naked arms to pull them towards a set up that would be the men’s worst nightmare if they weren’t blind-sighted.

Two steel bars, where Buffy’s bicycle would normally reside, were secured to the ceiling with a seemingly innocuous set of handcuffs dangled in an innocent masquerade.

Buffy pushed Angel to his knees and ordered him not to move for pain of abstinence.

Spike stood silently, for the first time in his life, tempting Buffy to giggle at the amusing picture he posed: stone-cold naked, freely dangling and brightly shining in her husband’s sweat and spunk.

Angel strained to listen at Buffy’s movements but a harsh slap of plastic laced with a hardened strip of material struck his shoulders and forced his face and hands to the floor.

“Jesus, what the bloody hell was that?” Spike exclaimed but was abruptly told to shut up or he’d be gagged. His lips instantly clamped together.

“Now, Spike, you’re going to raise your hands above your head and keep ‘em up there ‘till I tell you, ‘kay?”

Buffy held the leather whip firmly by its smooth handle. The bubble wrap she’d carefully circled around the three leather prongs was slicked in almond oil moisturiser and her own juices after a particularly hot rubbing of the ribbed wrap along her slit.

Sharply flicking the bubble wrapped whip on Spike’s lowered arms, the sound of wet ‘pops’ amalgamated with the groans of pain. Spike got the message though, his aching arms waving in the air, dangerously close to the open cuffs.

“Now you, both of you, are going to do exactly as Mistress Buffy says, aren’t you?”

The blinded men nodded and Spike’s Adam’s apple bobbed as the gulp made its slow progress down his throat.

The danger held in Buffy’s tiny h ands swished and rustled in the still air before cracking with audible ‘pops’ just above Angel’s ass.

“Now the only popping Mistress Buffy want to hear is from my whip, understand?”

Spike and Angel most certainly didn’t understand. At least, not until Buffy rolled out the ream of wrap in front and behind the men, then snatched Spike’s wrists in the cuffs. His body rose from the ground until only his toes were sustaining him. Buffy then rolled Angel onto his left side and spread the rest of the bubble wrap on the floor where his body wanted to fall.

The men were situated perfectly one Buffy length away from the other, and Buffy was definitely going to use that space to her advantage.

Shaking with the strain, Spike unwittingly howled as he leant slightly backwards, heels popping bubbles and the whip cracking.

“Bad Boy! Every time you pop the bubble, the bubble whip slashes. Now Mistress Buffy wants something very specific. But she doesn’t think you boys are up to the challenge.”

“Mistress Buffy better cut out the third person bollocks.”

Angel growled a warning but the whip cracked and the pops slashed across Spike’s reddening skin.

Then Buffy about turned to her husband and knelt to look at his perfect body. A soft hand ran up his legs, fingernails trailing along the pathways between the soft hairs. Buffy hesitated one moment before grabbing the floor bubble wrap and used it to squeeze Angel’s balls.

The surprise caused him to squeak then topple over, making a collective pop as his back hit the ground. Down came that evil, wet, popping whip.

Righting Angel, the minx positioned herself atop of his face, which usually sparkled with love and devotion but was right now grimacing in pain. That was until he smelt his wife’s pussy draping itself atop his mouth. His tongue tentatively traced the lower lips before the pain was quickly forgotten for the juicy elixir that was sliding down his throat.

“Spike, you can lean forward.”

A ripple of pops like the tiny waves of water that slid out from a skipping pebble along the surface of a lake spread across the bubble floor as Spike’s whole feet hit solid(ish) ground. His cock hit a wet and willing mouth.

“HOLY BLOOMIN’ BOLLOCKS!” The whip cracked as Buffy held herself up with one hand and brandished the deadly weapon that had smacked Spike’s gorgeous, marble-carved ass that was now rose tinted.

That last hit was too much, cum filling Buffy’s mouth as bubbles went berserk after Spike’s tired arms pulled the cuffs open to allow Spike to fall onto his back.

A talented, knowledgeable tongue that knew every crevice, bump and nerve of Buffy’s feminine rose brought her right next to the edge she’d hovered over before Angel pulled her down from his mouth to impale her onto his demanding cock.

Their sex life had always been varied but as Buffy ripped off Angel’s blindfold so they could lift their heads to see the sprawled Spike naked on their living room floor, surrounded by bubble wrap and completely spent, a sexual fervour took over their bodies. After furious thrusting, in unison, the married couple came with a shout of ‘Spike!’

Lifting the blindfold from his face, Spike looked over at his lovers who stared intently back at him.

“Guess you lovelies like me then?”

Achingly, Angel reached over to Spike to bring him into the bubble wrap cocoon Buffy had made on the floor. Come and moisturiser and sweat covered the pimply plastic and Buffy sighed.

“Do I have to get rid of the whip?”

Heads were shaken feverishly, before the kissing ensued as they crawled back into bed so peaceful slumber could follow.