Buffy decided that for a first date, this one won, hands down. Spike and Will had whisked her off to a romantic little Italian place nestled near the docks, with a pretty view of the ocean. They sat in a back booth, where the light was low, hands and feet roaming free. They barely made it home in one piece. Will had offered to drive, which he soon realized was not the best idea. Buffy and Spike couldn’t resist pushing the limits of his concentration. From now on, Buffy was definitely insisting they go somewhere within walking distance, because she did not want to die in a fiery inferno of tragic car crashyness.
They made it to the door in a tangle of limbs. Spike grabbed Buffy and pushed her against the wall, devouring her mouth. Will tried to unlock the door, fumbling with the keys, his overly aroused state making his fingers sluggish and inept. He’d managed to get the key in the lock when Buffy snuck up behind him and reached down his pants, massaging the stiffness she found there. He clung to the door for balance as her hot hand began squeezing and stroking him, her breath tickling the back of his neck. Spike took it upon himself to start nibbling on his brother’s ear. Oh God. Will had no choice but to accept their torture with a pitiful whimper, his muscles refusing to respond to any of his commands. He gave up any semblance of trying to get indoors; he didn’t care where the hell they were as long as someone fucked him very very soon. The masculine chuckle in his ear raced down his spine, straight to his throbbing, pulsing cock.
Spike reached around his brother, ‘accidentally’ brushing against the bulge in his pants as he finished opening the door, sending the three of them sprawling into the apartment. Will lay on his back in a daze, his sex-addled brain short circuiting. Insistent hands tugged his shirt over his head. He arched up when a wet mouth suctioned to one of his nipples, another mouth trailing kisses down his stomach, eager hands working the button and zipper of his jeans. Cool air tickled the tip of his cock before a wet, searing heat drove all semblance of higher thought from his body.
A strong arm held his hips to the floor, and hands pinned his own above his head. Will couldn’t even concentrate enough to figure out who was touching him where; all that mattered was the wet, willing mouth wrapped around his cock and the firm, arousing nips being laid along his throat. The pace was slow and unhurried, his torturers blissfully ignoring his desperate cries and incoherent babbling. He moaned in encouragement as each inch of his needy manhood disappeared oh-so-slowly into the warm, willing mouth. The third time, he was taken in completely, and a strangled sob ripped through his body. He was so close. So close. He felt his balls tighten in preparation for release.
As one, Buffy and Spike ceased their ministrations, running soothing hands over Will’s shuddering body. She ignored his despondent cry when Spike released his penis, the red, angry organ lying accusingly on Will’s pale stomach. She peppered Will’s body with chaste kisses, helping sooth him, coaxing him down.
“I will kill you both,” Will ground out shakily. He was tense and ready to burst, his dick throbbing with need; it didn’t help when he opened one eye to the scene of Spike and Buffy merrily making out over his deprived and painfully aroused body. He screwed his eyes together and let out a tortured groan. They were trying to kill him. He felt an insistent, annoying tapping on his forehead . His brother’s grinning face hovered over him, blue eyes alight with mirth.
“Now now. No need to get violent...yet. We’ll take very good care of you,” Spike said with a wide grin. He leaned over and placed small, coaxing kisses along Will’s pursed lips, his tongue requesting entrance. With every brush, Will’s lips relaxed, until their tongues were dancing with each other. A pointed couch broke through their fog.
While Spike had been distracting Will, Buffy had positioned herself over his lean hips. Her skirt was bunched at her hips, and her underwear had disappeared sometime during their ‘date.’ When she had their undivided attention, she grasped Will’s beautiful cock and sank on to him, gasping in pleasure as he stretched and filled her. Spike kept his brother pinned to the floor as Buffy started riding him into Oblivion.
“Look at her,” Spike whispered, his lips caressing the shell of his ear, a pink tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin. Buffy was riding Will, her face contorted in pleasure. Spike reached over and started rubbing her clit, and Buffy’s moans traveled straight to Will’s dick. He tried desperately to move, to convince her to give him the release he’d needed for...oh, the past three hours or so. But his brother held him firm and Buffy continued at her own (unhurried) pace.
“Feel her warm snatch, clutching at you, hungry for you. Look at her face.” Will had no choice but to comply, his eyes unfocused on Buffy’s expression as she rode his pulsing cock. “Do you see what you do to her? Do you feel how wet you make her? How hard you make me? Fuck, Will!” His hand found Spike’s hard member, catching it in a tight grip. He managed a few strokes before Buffy clamped down on him, her inner muscle squeezing him dry; he went crashing over the edge, struggling against Spike’s hold, arching into Buffy as his much-delayed orgasm hit him with staggering force. The world swam before his eyes before fading away. He was out when Buffy collapsed on top of him, enjoying the aftershocks of her own release.
“Three orgasms says he’ll be out for at least five minutes,” Buffy said with a tired little laugh.
“Bloody hell! No more talking to Anyanka for you!” Spike exclaimed. Buffy slipped off of Will with a reluctant sigh, crawling over to a still aroused Spike, eyeing his crotch with a suggestive little smirk.
“Oh, I don’t think you really mean that. She’s been giving me...ideas,” the vixen whispered, a sly twinkle in her eye.
“Ideas, Goldilocks? Like what?” Spike asked, intrigued. He was convinced that Anya’s real job was as some sort of sex consultant; she only did secretarial work for tax purposes.
“Ideas,” she confirmed. With great care, she lowered herself onto Spike so that only his blunt tip pierced her folds. His hands automatically settled on her hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into her flesh. “Costumes.” Spike moaned into her neck as she lowered herself a little further. Images of Buffy in a French Maid outfit drifted through his mind. “And...games.” She was halfway down his straining cock now, and those talented muscles that had driven Will out of his mind with pleasure were now working on him. Spike whimpered, the mental images she evoked and the sensation of her hot cunny pulsing around him almost too much. “And toys.” She sunk down completely, moaning at being so fully filled again. Spike lost it, flipping her over and thrusting wildly into her. Buffy felt the heat building in her stomach, her own words affecting her as much as Spike. She began rubbing her clit, reaching for the edge. With an animalistic roar, Spike bit down on Buffy’s chorded neck, spilling his hot seed deep inside her. The pleasurable pain of his bite, bruising but not quite hard enough to break the skin, was enough to push her over the edge again, her entire body consumed in an explosive fire. They slumped against one another, too relaxed to move.
“That was one helluva show,” Will piped up, having come to in time to see their grand finale. “But when you two insurgents are done planning your next ambush, how about we move this to the bed?” Two muffled grunts were his only reply.
************************** ********* **************************
She was contentedly snuggled between her favorite twins when the doorbell rang, interrupting their post-coital nap.
“Don’t move, it’ll go away,” Spike murmured, trapping her between his arms. Buffy was inclined to agree, until the ringing came again, longer and somehow more insistent.
“Spike!” Buffy protested.
“It can’t be that important, pet,” Will murmured seductively, his lips silencing her with their own. Buffy’s protests died without much of a fight, her mouth much happier snogging Will than trying to convince her lovers that getting out of bed was a good idea.. Then the asshole at the door started pounding on it.
“Bloody hell! Can’t anyone have sex in peace?!” Spike growled, fully prepared to stalk naked to the door and ream out whoever had interrupted his slow seduction of the two people in his bed. He was a three-orgasm-a-day kinda guy, and he had two to go.
“Spike!” Buffy protested, pulling him back down to the bed. It was one thing to have come clean to most of her friends about them, but she really didn’t think the general populace was up to seeing a naked Spike or Will...and definitely not both. She’d be fighting off too many rivals if anyone got a dual glimpse of their delectable, beautifully sculpted bodies. Oh, she really needed to stop staring and go answer the door. But those abs were so hypnotizing, just begging her to...
“Luv?” She blushed when Spike wiggled his eyebrows at her, flexing his abs so they popped out even more. Will chuckled, trailing a finger along Buffy’s spine. Their little firecracker blushed all the way down.
“I-I’ll go. You boys just stay here and keep...warm,” she squeaked, momentarily distracted by Spike’s nakedness. Again. God, she was so screwed. She saw them naked...pretty much whenever she looked at them, because they took it as an invitation for naked fun time. But still, her eyes glazed over every-freakin’-time! Buffy grabbed her robe, and with one last longing look, left to get rid of whomever was trying to break down their door. The only people that would be pounding on her door this late had to be her friends, and they should totally know better!
“Look, I have two hot bod...” Buffy trailed off, her entire face draining of color.
“Elizabeth Anne Summers!”
Fuck.
Uh oh. Now who in the world could that be?
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry this has been a little while in coming; I got into a wreck and it pretty much sucked hugely. But on to the story! And please note that I haven't forgotten about vengful Xander.