” Blaaah!”
What? You thought I was joking about getting a drink? I don’t joke about consuming the beverage of the gods, especially if Angel’s paying the bill. Huh? What time is it in London? Why does that matter— fine, fine, it’s six a.m.!
Hey, I’m not a lush! It’s ten p.m. in LA, and since I’m still on that time, no harm no foul! Anyway, I’m only having just the one. Need I remind you the lack of liquid refreshment while I was on the plane, despite my constant begging for it? Well, that’s true. I was begging for that too, but not until a little later. Oh, you’re a riot—I need a stiff one to talk about a stiff one, very clever.
I’m not stalling. Here it is: I let him in—we did it— the end. What? Not twenty minutes ago you were being all Virgin Mary, not wanting details. All right, all right! Fine, you want details. First, can I say I’m so glad you’re back from the nunnery! You had me worried, who would I share my sordid time with Mr. Walking-Sex with, if not you?
Well, before we start with all the juicy details, you might want to get a drink of your own. By the time I’m through with my little, well big tale, you’ll need it!
Where was I…oh, how could I forget—the minute I looked up from the wall of cotton-clad muscle, his lips were devouring mine. All I could do was hold on, and give as good as I got. It took all my will not to claw at his clothes like an animal in heat while his god-like physique, the one I was ogling earlier, pressed tightly against mine. Somehow, we ended up inside the small room, the door closed, and I perched on the small metal countertop next to the sink.
Instinctually, I spread my legs, causing the constricting material of my skirt to bunch around my thighs. With our mouths still fused, he placed himself where I desperately needed him to be, only two layers of clothing away from my damp and burning cleft. The smallest contact from the coarse denim brushing against my satin covered sex caused me to moan, and I shifted my hips attempting to gain more friction.
Once oxygen started to become an issue, I reluctantly broke away from his lips, and he took that opportunity to place demanding kisses and small nips along my jaw, the shell of my ear, and my throat. His mouth was everywhere at once, and my mind was spinning with pure lust. Silently urging him to continue this highly stimulating, tactile assault, I tilted my head and rested it on the mirror, granting him further access to my sensitive flesh.
His talented mouth and tongue created random, tediously blissful patterns on my throat, descending toward the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. All the while, his hands, oh God his hands, made demanding sweeps across my skin, burning a path through my clothing. They never remained idle, and he seemed to be memorizing every curve of my body.
The onslaught of pleasure he created with his mere touch was intoxicating. My last thought before my brain containing all higher reasoning, shut down was— “if this is what he can do with our clothes on, can’t wait—“,then he released my throat. His demanding lips were on mine once more— feasting, devouring, and that was all she wrote. My mind blanked, and all I could do was feel. Feel the warm cavern of his mouth, his skillful tongue dueling with mine and his deft fingers releasing each button of my blouse from its fastening.
Half way through liberating me of my blouse, his patience seemed to end. Snatching his delicious mouth from mine, he fisted the parted silk and yanked, causing buttons to fly every which way, exposing my satin covered breasts to his hungry gaze.
The flying buttons broke me from my lust-riddled stupor momentarily. Before I could yell, “Hey, that’s my hundred-dollar silk blouse! What, you’re too good to work the buttons?” He attacked my heaving chest like a starving man. These thoughts and any other going beyond “More…more…more” went completely bye-bye.
While he teased one clothed mound with open-mouthed kisses, wetting the fabric with his attentions, he painstakingly palmed my other breast. In both instances, he purposely avoided my sensitive nipples that puckered almost painfully against their bindings, longing for his touch.
Without breaking contact, he switched the attention he gave each breast. The coolness of the room amplified the dampness left from his hot mouth on the fabric now clinging to my skin.
While he enthusiastically feasted on the twins, my fingers itched to work their way through his hair. At first, I didn’t know if he would have allowed me to, or, even if I could with the amount product he used.
Do you remember John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever during the dinner scene? I was afraid the minute I touched Spike’s hair, he would say, complete with the Brooklyn accent— ”Would ya just watch the hair. Ya know, I work on my hair a long time, and you touched it.”
What? Yes, I know I said he’s English. He still is. It's just that line wouldn’t work with his type of accent and…never mind…let’s move on.
Well, since I was already being so daring, you know having sex with a complete stranger at 40,000 feet, I decided to go for it. With tentativeness, I ran my fingers through it. To my surprise, his mouth instantly became more urgent on my flesh, and I swore I heard a sound coming from him that resembled purring.
When it came to his hair, looks were definitely deceiving. From the minute I first saw it, I thought, even though incredibly sexy—helmet hair— it had to be, the way it appeared harshly slicked back. My next thought, it must feel like straw from all the bleaching. So wrong, on both accounts! His hair was thick and soft, and while I ran my busy little fingers through it, I released curls that I knew, with how much time it must take to make them behave and lay straight, he didn’t want them showing. Too bad, his curls were untamable and so damn sexy—just like him!
Where was my other hand? No, even though I wanted to so desperately to capture the spike, my other hand unfortunately due to the laws of gravity not being on my side, continued clutching the edge of the shiny metal countertop, so during the throes of passion, I wouldn’t slide off. I can picture it now—“Oh…oh…yeah…oh…BANG!” Yeah, that would have been really sexy. You know that the “bang” was me landing on the floor, you got that, right? Good, let’s move on.
So, back to what he was doing. I needed more, and obviously so did he, because the next thing he did was—look ma, no hands! He released the front hook of my bra with his teeth! I know, it was hot!
Now, with the girls waving in the breeze, he didn’t waste anytime getting down to business. He suckled, teased, nibbled, and I enjoyed every sinful moment of it. The only bad thing was despite how nonchalantly I tried guiding him, with the firm hold I had in his hair, toward my aching nipples, he kept avoiding them! Pure evil…that’s what he was, and he totally knew it too. He’s lucky that he’s so damn hot, or I would have kicked his ass out and finished up by myself.
Then before my frustration got the better of me, and before I could tighten the grip I had on his hair to pull him away to give him a piece of my mind for teasing me, he latched his teeth onto one erect peak, while at the same time tweaked the other with his thumb and forefinger.
Instead of frustrating words spilling from my mouth, there were only groans of pleasure and a string of nonsensical words, fueling his enthusiasm and causing his mouth and hands to become more urgent.
My mind was awhirl from the incredible things he was doing to me. After endless moments of his feasting, without a warning, he stopped. The cool air danced across my damp flesh, causing me to shiver slightly. Too dazed, I just sat there for a few moments. Then, missing his touch and needing, no craving more, I lazily lifted my head from the mirror and attempted to focus on my tormentor.
He stood before me, the once blueness of his eyes almost completely gone, devoured by the inky pupils that radiated pure lust. My body burned and ached from his gaze. I needed him; unlike I’d needed anyone else before that moment.
It was at that instant, feeling his mesmerized gaze, consuming and savoring me completely when, out of nowhere, a poetic thought came to my mind— my nipples were small rose buds, and he was the sun. Under the heat of his stare they bloomed, rising as they sought the warmth of his hands and mouth, these were the only things that could bring them to life.
Yeah, I know, those were thoughts of a pitiful poet, but I couldn’t help it, that’s what came to my mind. Believe me. I don’t normally have those types of thoughts or any other thoughts beyond “Yeah, give me more!” and “Don’t stop!” during sex.
However, in that moment, from the way he looked at me, it felt so much more than that—more than just sex. We were more than ”The beast with two backs”. I felt beautiful, even with me sitting on an airplane’s bathroom countertop with my legs sprawled open, showcasing the most intimate part of me to a complete stranger. Despite all that, I felt worshiped. His words instantly broke me from my thoughts.
“Simply break taking you are. My little nymph.”
His deep, rumbling voice washed over me, and I shivered again—from the combination of his heated gaze, the lust radiating from him, and from that one small, possessive word still echoing in my ears—my.
It felt surreal when I heard a sultry, feminine voice saying, “Come here.”, since I didn’t remember speaking. Obviously, it was me, because the next thing I saw was his scarred brow rise in response to my brazen demand, his wickedly talented tongue curling and touching the front of his teeth, while his full kissable lips twisted into a sinful smirk.
For several moments, I contemplated between wanting to smack or kiss that smirk off his face. It didn’t take long for me to choose the less violent and more pleasurable way, especially since he looked completely delectable: his eyes filled with lust and his tongue wicked, sliding over his pearly whites. Hooking my index fingers into his belt loops, I tugged him toward me. In an instant, our bodies were touching from mouth to waist.
Without wasting another moment, our mouths fused once more. Our tongues dueled, yet neither of us gave nor took control, while my greedy hands traveled up his far too clothed chest, sliding under his coat, and continuing upwards toward his shoulders. Once I reached the top, I pushed the leather from his shoulders and with a soft swoosh, it pooled at his feet.
My hands continued to have a mind of their own, when they yanked his form fitting tee from the waist of his jeans and quickly wrenched it up and over his head, tossing it across the tiny room. At the last possible second, I released his mouth, so I could remove the shirt. During the momentary break, my gaze hungrily traveled over his now exposed body.
If I had to describe him in one word it would be—beautiful. I know men hate being called that, it’s not manly enough, but in this case too damn bad. He was: everything from his almost flawless, pale skin. His rippling muscles that flexed and released under my eager gaze. He resembled a marble statue of a Greek God come to life. Like I said, beautiful.
“See somethin’ you like, kitten?”
What a smug bastard. Now, I know he’s totally hot, but him knowing he was totally hot and even more so that he knew that I knew he was hot, completely grated on my nerves. Even though I wanted to scream, “Fuck yeah, I see something I like!” I tried to appear like I had some control over myself and that this beautiful man standing before me wasn’t affecting me so much, even though I was barely holding on by a proverbial thread.
“Not bad.”
Ha, take that! Following my blasé answer, he did that sexy raising the one-eyebrow thing, while calling my bluff.
“Is that right? Well, since this is a waste of your precious time and clearly is a waste of mine—“
Ooohhh…a waste of his time, I’ll show him!
Before he could move away, I trapped him between my thighs by locking my ankles under his denim-clad ass, pulling him quickly into a breath-taking kiss. This time there was no holding back. I didn’t care if I seemed out of control. Control was overrated anyway.
Our mouths battled fiercely, neither of us could get enough. For the first time, I pulled away, trekking downward with fiercely nipping and licking the skin on his throat and muscular chest. With each taste, he groaned and gasped, urging me to give more.
Reaching his nipples, I latched onto one flat nub with my teeth and tugged. The best way to describe the sound coming from him was a growl, before his head fell backward exposing his throat and sexy Adam’s apple to my demanding mouth.
While I continued exploring his body with hungry kisses, nips, and bites, our hands were everywhere—teasing and groping. I loved how his muscles bunched under my hands, but I needed more. I craved the prize hidden within his tight jeans.
Nipping his throat, I cupped him with my eager hand, thrilled to feel his cock jumping at my touch. Following another growling noise, he firmly grabbed me by the hair, instantly stilling me, drawing my gaze to his, his brazen words making me shiver.
“I need to taste you, now!”
Without another word, he grabbed my hips pulling me to the edge of the counter, and he dropped to his knees. He passionately parted my thighs before ripping my thong from my sodden cleft with one fierce tug. Prior to the fabric leaving my body, it rubbed against my throbbing clit, causing me to shudder— I could feel that my climax was near. Despite how he’d removed the final barrier between his mouth and my pussy with such magnificent force, the first touch of his tongue was so subtle I barely felt it.
Increasing the pressure, he lapped at my folds several times, from the bottom of my opening to the top, purposefully missing my clit, driving me insane. Before I knew what was happening, a scream tore from my throat as he wrenched an orgasm from my body. With my hands fisted in his hair, I shamelessly rotated my hips grinding my pussy against his face, riding out my climax.
While I began to come down from my orgasmic high, he gave me a brief reprieve before he attacked me once again. His tongue flicked against and dipped into my folds, before taking my clit between his teeth and tugging. Instantly, I exploded into another orgasm, flooding his tongue with my spendings.
This orgasm was fiercer and longer than the first, since he drew it out by continuing to use the tip of his tongue and tapping it against my clit. It was all too much. I was on sensory overload.
It was amazing, before I could voice that it was all too much, following cleaning me thoroughly, he released me from the blissful torture. With a parting lick, he raised his head, his lustful gaze seeking mine. After several moments, I lifted my heavy lids trying to focus on him, while his sexy voice filled my ears.
“I don’t normally use this word, but you are absolutely delicious, kitten,” he murmured before lapping at me once more, our dual groans sounding throughout the room. It took me a few moments for the meaning of his words to click inside my lust-addled mind. I responded quickly, and I was surprisingly coherent, especially how “fire bad tree pretty” my mind was at that moment.
“Caramel.”
Now I shouldn’t have said a damn thing, because when I did, he stopped that wickedly fantastic thing he was doing with his tongue. Sometimes I should really know when to keep my big mouth shut, now being one of those times.
Then he chuckled against my clit, causing my eyes to roll up. I probably looked possessed, but I so didn’t care. It felt like everything he did, every single touch with his talented mouth and hands, caused my body to ignite into flames. With a slow parting lick starting at the base of my opening and finishing with a quick flick to my descended nub, he rested his chin on my bare mons and with his heated gaze fixed with mine, his deep rumbling voice returned.
“Caramel? Huh, ‘m not familiar with a flavored body wash. Too bad for me, been missin’ out.”
“No, not body wash, a bitch with a macchiato gave my boobs a hot and unpleasant sampling.”
Following my words, I shamelessly wiggled my hips, not so subtly hinting I wanted him to continue. Once more, he chuckled. The vibrations traveled directly to my slick heat causing my insides to clench.
“Thought your titties tasted extra sweet. Mmm…you’re my own personal sundae— pert vanilla mounds smothered with sticky caramel, topped with cherry-tipped nipples and here,” lifting his chin and with his mesmerizing eyes still fixed with mine, he lapped at my drenched folds once more. “is like whipped cream, which, by the way, is my favorite part—love how the cream coats and dissolves on my tongue. As I said before, simply delicious.”
“Oh, god.” It sounded so erotic. The way he almost purred the words made me moan. Then they changed instantly to gasps as he attacked my throbbing pussy with renewed enthusiasm.
While his mouth waged an erotic war with my folds, I felt another orgasm fast approaching. Again, almost as if we had been lovers forever, he sensed this and slowly slid two fingers inside me, seeking, then skillfully finding my G-spot. With only two strokes on the Holy Grail of sex, another wail tore from my throat, heralding my orgasm.
Oh, boy, now I was totally out of my mind. I started to giggle. You know, that holy shit I just had several amazing orgasms giggling, which, unfortunately for me, I have been the only one hearing this giggle of mine, until now.
Following several moments of my giddiness, my body relaxed, and I became a boneless heap. I’ve never felt so completely satisfied in my life. If this moment was my last, I would gratefully welcome hell while Satan brought me around for a meet and greet to all those that had fallen during the times of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Pulling me out of my haze, Spike placed several lingering kisses on my inner thighs, before traveling upwards, reaching my stomach, my breasts, and then my lips. His kisses were soft and tender. Slowly, I returned them. We gently explored one another’s mouths. When I tasted myself on his lips, this ignited my passion once more as I deepened the kiss.
Earlier, I gave up complete control to my passions and to him, but I had a craving to get the control back. I needed a single, yet significant act, to tip the scales back into my favor. Instantly, only one came to mind.
Now, some women believe kneeling before a man, her mouth opened ready to receive his cock is a completely submissive action. Well, it can be, if the woman unfortunately isn’t doing it right. Especially if said woman is letting some guy fuck her face—now that’s completely submissive. Fortunately, I know what I’m doing.
Every carefully planned movement from how I hold their gaze while I slowly sink to my knees and releasing their cock from its confines, to caressing the hardened flesh with my mouth and hands—I’m in complete control, dominating the entire act.
It’s amazing how a single lick around the belled-head or cradling his balls in the palm of my hand, caused the most fluent man stumbling over his words, and the most powerful one becoming as weak as a kitten. I love when their eyes roll into the back of their head, that silly, boyish grin playing on their lips and their incoherent mutterings—all these things fill me with womanly pride.
Putting my plan into motion, while my mouth devoured his, I pushed him away, but followed him while I slid off the counter and walked him backwards until his back hit the door behind us. My hands traveled down his chest, seeking, then finding the waist of his jeans.
Deftly, I released the button and zipper, and once undone, my eager hand reached in for my prize. Now, I expected to meet a barrier. Nope, Mr. Sex-On-Legs goes commando. He chuckled, when a small gasp from my unexpected findings left my lips. His laughter caught in his throat, the minute I began trekking downward.
My mouth, tongue, and teeth savored every inch of skin. Once I lowered myself to the ground, his heated gaze remained fixed with mine, as I pulled his jeans down over his lean hips, exposing his beautiful cock for the first time. He was so stunningly thick and long. A small bead of pre-cum formed and glistening in the slit, and with a long lick, I cleared it from the head, lingering on the sensitive flesh housed there.
Oh, my god, he was delicious. I normally don’t say cock is delicious. That word is saved for a great pair of Manolo Blahniks or anything dipped, covered, or filled with chocolate, yet the minute my tongue wrapped around him, I was hooked. He tasted salty, yet sweet, and smoky all at the same time. I know, sounds completely weird, but my taste buds weren’t lying.
It wasn’t only his taste that had me hooked, but also how he handled himself and me while I was handling him. He was far more courteous than most others. I’ve had some guys, the minute I opened my mouth, they would thrust their pelvis forward while grabbing a handful of my hair, like some caveman, and tried jamming his dick down my throat. First off, super rude. Second off, the minute I felt a guy’s hands tightening in my hair, I stopped him right away. Believe me. I’ve heard many of unmanly yelping in my time from a jerk with a bitten dick, courtesy of moi.
Spike weaved his fingers through my hair, but instead of grabbing, his hold was gentle, and his fingertips kneaded and drew small circles over my scalp. It felt amazing! There were several times when I lost myself in his touch and forgot the real reason why I was down there.
While I set the pace of my explorations, his sighing and whispered praises were the only directions he gave.
I cradled his cock with one hand, while I leisurely licked him from root to tip. I lingered on the head, swirling my tongue around the bulbous tip, before I pointed my tongue removing the newly formed pearly fluid from the slit. While I traced with my tongue down his length, his sighs changed into low groans that spurred my movement to become bolder.
While my tongue trailed upward teasing him with small laps, once I reached the top, I closed my lips around the head and then with tedious slowness, I slid my mouth down taking in as much of him as I could. Due to his sheer size, I couldn’t take all of him. The head was hitting the back of my throat when I was only three-quarters of the way down, so I wrapped my hand around the remainder and went to work.
I knew I had him completely at my mercy, when I could hear the string of curses falling from his lips increasing, his eyes slamming closed, and how his body tensed while he fought the urges to tighten his fists in my hair and to thrust his hips forward, while my mouth bobbed up and down on his cock. The curses became louder when only the head remained in my mouth and I swirled my tongue around the rim.
I loved how my womanly pride swelled to the point of bursting from how I affected him so. This once arrogant man was now putty in my hands.
After several delicious moments, I heard his say, “Stop.” Now, years ago, I would have released him and asked what I did wrong. However, after years of experience, I knew this was “stop” I’m going to burst, not a “stop” stop.
Usually, at this point I would release his cock, and wait for my reward—being fucked silly. Except, instead of letting go, I increased my pace. I don’t know why, but I needed him to cum in my mouth. I needed to devour him, just as he had devoured me.
I heard him gasping and grunting, completely enjoying my oral assault. Then after a few moments his plea came again—“Stop”. This time it was a little louder and firmer. Being stubborn, I just kept going, like I said I needed to have him inside of me. Then I felt his hand tightening in my hair. Normally, this would be the point where I would bite the bastard, instead I groaned around his cock. It was almost like we were having a battle for dominance, and at this moment, I was winning.
Yeah, that didn’t last for long. On the upstroke, he took this opportunity and shifted his hips so his cock popped out of my mouth, and with the hands in my hair, directed my face upwards. I felt another surge of power from what I saw there: his eyes stormy with lust, his jaw clenched, he was on the verge, and I had brought him there.
”Now” was all he said and I was in his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist, his cock brushing against my drenched folds, and his mouth was on mine. Cradling my clinging body to his, he walked, carefully since his pants were still around his ankles, toward the counter.
It’s amazing how a single word, had us in such frenzy. He placed me gently on the counter. Instantly, our hands and mouths were everywhere, never resting in one area for long. Then following several frantic moments, he pulled back, cupping my face with his hands. I opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze.
“You’re so beautiful, Buffy. Please, I need to be inside you. Will you let me inside?”
I froze: my gaze transfixed with his, my mouth slightly open, and all the thoughts that could have been going through my mind—nonexistent. Then I heard a single word response, even though it sounded like it was from far away, I knew it was me speaking, granting him permission with one word—“Yes.”
Then the sweetest smile filled his lips, before he slowly leaned forward capturing my mouth with his. After several blissful moments of us savouring one another, his hands left my face, and then I heard the slight rustling of plastic being torn open.
Even though my curiosity was piqued, wondering where he got the condom, I quickly pushed it away. My big mouth wasn’t going to ruin the mood this time. Gratefully, once the proper riding equipment was in place, I felt the nudge of his cock sliding through my folds.
With torturously slow increments, he entered me until he was fully seated within. Our contentment in the form of breathy sighs filled the air. Spike’s eyes were closed and jaw clenched, as he appeared that he was attempting to gain some semblance of himself, all the while he remained stone still.
Once he seemed to have some control, he placed his lips tenderly to mine, and between dozens of soft kisses, he whispered words that caused shivers to travel all over my body. “So bloody beautiful. I fit perfectly, feels like you were made for only me.” and “Christ! You’re so hot, going to burn me, you will.”
Each of his words created new waves of pleasure, until I couldn’t handle his stillness anymore. I needed him to move, to feel him build on the blissful tension of my climax deeply within me.
Following my whispered begging of “Please.”, he began to move. His strokes were excruciatingly slow and deep. His cock reached parts of me I never knew existed. With every forward stroke, the silky covered steel of him rubbed against my G-spot, and with every retreat, I felt my muscles clinging to him, trying to keep him inside.
At that moment, I felt like I’d never felt before—blissfully conflicted. I was complete, yet breaking into a thousand pieces. It was all too much, yet not enough. All I did know is that from that moment on the man had changed my world forever.
It was strange how well he knew my body. The minute he felt my orgasm approaching, he increased his pace. With each push forward, he swirled his hips hitting me in a different way each time. When pulling out, he would only leave the head in place, my body begging for his return.
Following several mind-numbing plunges, my orgasm, resembling a violent tsunami, swelled to enormous heights then crashed, causing me to drench his cock with my spendings. I could hear him say, “Bloody hell” while my pussy clenched around him, almost so tight he couldn’t move. Once my muscles released him, he continued moving, his pace increasing.
Almost on the heels of my fourth orgasm, number five raced through me. While it coursed through my body, my nails left scratches and claw marks on his skin and a row of indentations on his throat from where I sank my teeth into him. I was acting like a wild animal, but I didn’t care. Actually, I think the primal side of Buffy turned him on more.
He fisted his hands in my hair, pulling me away from his throat, his mouth crashing down on mine. Our tongues and teeth duelled, and I was ready to burst with another orgasm.
I know! Never, never have I had multiples with anyone before, never mind the countless ones I’ve had since his wicked mouth first touched mine.
Then he snatched his lips from me, his eyes trying to meet my gaze. After several attempts, I was able to focus on him. Despite the nearly brutal pace of our lower bodies, his face was almost serene as he looked at me. With three tiny words, he had us falling over the edge into our orgasmic abyss—“Come with me.”
It was as if he had complete control over my mind and body, and at his command, I came instantly. At the same time I came, I could feel him pulsating his release within me.
Following our mutual climax, our hips continued to move. Each time became slower and slower until they stopped completely. His forehead rested on my shoulder, his breath fell on my bare chest in heavy pants, as I tenderly ran my fingers through his hair. Despite how we barely knew one another and where we were, I felt so comfortable, like we did this all the time. There were no signs of post-coital awkwardness anywhere in sight.
When our breaths finally slowed into a normal rhythm, he pulled his head from my shoulder and looked at me. The big smile that filled his face caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle, making him look almost boyish. It was such a genuine sweet smile, and all I could do was smile back.
He placed a small kiss on my lips, which impressively, had his cock stirring inside me once more. I was about the comment on how I was so on board with another round, until a knock came from the door. At first, we both ignored it, hoping it would go away. Unfortunately, the asshole on the other side was insistent. Then we heard an annoying, almost like a cat in the blender, voice coming through the door.
“Excuse me, sir, you’ve been in there a long time, do you need some assistance. Sir, we will be landing soon, and you both, I mean, you need to take your seat.”
I was about to yell out that I would be assisting him in any needs he had, but almost as if he could read my mind, he placed a lingering kiss on my lips.
Once he pulled away, I completely forgot what I was about to say, and actually what my name was. Then slowly my memories came back, but before I could say what I truly wanted to, he spoke,
“Sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up. Don’t get me wrong, the “I’ve been shagged six ways to Sunday” by yours truly is a right fetching look on you, but I think if we don’t vacate soon, some bloke will be stormin’ through the door, and I don’t want anyone to see you in all your naked glory. That privilege is solely mine, yeah?”
Again, his words were heavy with the sexy possessiveness. I wanted to tell him this privilege was his, and that it could be his a lot longer than this one time if he wanted it. But then reality hit me like a bucket of ice water. This was a onetime thing; there wasn’t another time after today, that wasn’t in the cards for us. Not because I or even he wanted it that way, only because of the reality that lingered outside of this room.
I was from LA. He, from his accent I assumed, was from London or another part of England. We lived almost a world away from one another. Plus, did he have someone else at home, wherever that was—a girlfriend, a fiancée, a wife? Oh my god…did he have kids?
I know these are all the things you should think about before getting groiny with someone, but I’m single, so that meant I can fuck anyone I wanted to. And to be completely honest, at the time, I didn’t really think to ask if he was single too. It was only now, with him still balls deep inside me and with my thighs slick with multiple orgasms, that this reality reared its ugly head.
While lost in my thoughts, he must have been staring at me and noticed that crease I get when I’m thinking. Like my body, I felt like he knew my thoughts too. It was almost if he had read my mind, because out of nowhere, he told me that there was no one else, no girlfriend or missus, and he didn’t have any kiddies, that he was aware of anyway, running around. I let out a big sigh of relief after he told me that.
Even with that concern cleared up, there was still the whole distance thing, and more importantly, did he truly want some sort of future with me? I know he called me “his” several times, but was that how he actually felt or was it more like something he blurted out during sex? Should I really be taking his words literally? But before I asked any of those questions, another knock came through the door, and a more insistent voice followed.
“Sir, please, we will be landing soon, I need you to return to your seat.”
With a sigh, he looked toward the door, then back at me. He placed a chaste kiss to my lips before he slowly pulled from my depths. Instantly, I felt empty, incomplete.
Like a true gentleman, he retrieved some paper towels, wet them and tenderly cleaned between my thighs. The coolness of the water and his gentle stroking sparked my desire once more, and by the look on his face, his desire as well, but unfortunately we had to leave.
Placing his hands on my waist, he helped me down from the counter, and we began putting ourselves together.
While I was pulling down my skirt, which looked like a big fabric belt since it completely encircled my waist and nowhere else, and rearranged my breasts into their rightful place, he was pulling up his jeans and donning his tee shirt. I looked around for my ruined thong, but after seeing him tucking it into his back pocket, I knew he had no plans in returning it.
After buttoning my blouse, or buttoning what left of the buttons on my blouse, I stood in the mirror and tried gaining control of my hair. It looked like a rat had nested there and there was no way I was taming this mess, especially without a brush.
Once I saw him behind me, now in his sexy leather, peering over my shoulder at our reflection, all the thoughts about my ratty hair and disheveled clothing were gone. Not when I could see that wicked twinkle had returned to his eyes, and his erection I felt pressing into the swell of my ass.
He slowly turned me around, and cradled my face with his hands. He didn’t say a word, before he kissed me tenderly. When he finally pulled away, he gave me a half-hearted smile, and then opened the door for me to leave. With a similar smile of my own, I left.
After giving the busty stewardess, the same one who denied my liquid happiness earlier, a lip-splitting grin and telling her, “Yeah, he was that good”, I returned to my seat.
Once settled, I closed my eyes trying to catch a nap before we landed, the large perma-grin remaining. It wasn’t too long before the captain announced we were landing soon at London’s Heathrow airport.
Once we landed, the pilot requested we remained seated briefly due to “minor technical difficulties with the jet way”. Fifteen minutes had passed before I was able to collect my carry-on and make a mad dash to the entrance. Unfortunately, I hit everyone else on the way out, and it took me almost another fifteen minutes to make it to the end of the aisle.
Once I was there, I looked over into first class hoping to see Spike there, but he was gone. I rushed down the jet way, hoping I would see him there or even waiting inside the airport, but he wasn’t.
I was disappointed, to say the very least. I wished he was there, but I knew, in my heart of hearts he wouldn’t be. Now that was the reality hovering outside the door. With a deep breath, I went through customs, and then headed toward the entrance of the airport.
While I was walking, lost in my own thoughts, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around quickly, hoping to see him. Nope, not him, it was some guy holding a sign. Well, it wasn’t who I wanted it to be, but hey, Angel sprang for me to take a limo to my hotel room, so all wasn’t lost. A half an hour later, I arrive in a pretty decent hotel, and then I called you.
Hello? You’ve been awfully quiet there, missy. The only reason why I know you’re still there is all that heavy breathing. Pretty amazing, huh? Well, besides him disappearing without a trace after, but it was still really amazing!
It almost seemed like some intense, erotic dream, yet I know it really happened due to the delicious ache I still have between my thighs.
No— no regrets, well, except for one—that I never asked for a way to contact him. After being interrupted by an untimely knock on the door, I had lost my nerve to ask. I guess the time we shared together was all that we were destined to have. Well, on the bright side, I still have my memories and dreams. *Sigh*
Oh, shit, what time is it? I need to get ready for that meeting. Remember the real reason why I came to England in the first place? Yeah, unfortunately having life-altering sex with an incredibly desirable man wasn’t the reason.
Ok, well, I’ll give you a call once I get home. Oh, before I forget, do you mind checking up on Mr. Gordo until I get back? Even though that furry little bastard deserves to starve, I could never do that to him.
What? Very funny, yet again you’re being a comedic genius. This is true— I do need constant tending to my pussy, you’re very clever. Have you ever thought about taking your show on the road? Anyway, talk to you soon, I’ll call you when I get back…bye!
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello all! *ducking flying rotten fruit and veggies* Yes, I know I've been a badddd puddy not updating on this sooner. Please forgive me *bats eyelashes*. I have been writing, and those that follow Prize Fighters you know this...right? right? Come on guys, back me up! Anyways, I'm sorry for the delay, but this chapter is very lengthy, so I hope it makes up for the major delay. Big thanks to my lovely beta Sanityfair--love you, babe! Big Hugs to Diebirchen--so glad we could finally meet in person! Also, big thanks to whomever nominated this for Best Comedy, Best Plot, and best NC-17 in Round 22 at the SunnyD awards! All right, I'm done. Enjoy!
Chapter End Notes:
*looking through parted fingers* Whatcha think? Good, bad, otherwise...let me know!