He knew it was a dream because there was a warm, wet mouth enveloping the bulbous head of his cock while a pair of dewy green eyes gazed up at him adoringly.
Buffy’s warm wet mouth and Buffy’s green eyes.
She would milk him with her fingers, lips, tongue, and teeth until he felt like his balls were being sucked out through the eye of his dick. Then she would clamber atop him and ride him at a gallop until his knees buckled and his eyes rolled up in his head.
Her warm wetness surrounded him like a velvet glove. He could almost taste the succulent juices that were trickling down her thighs. Her tiny pants and moans echoed in his head so clearly that he could imagine they were really. He could even taste the saltiness of her sweat as it pooled between her two perky little breasts.
It was the sweetest kind of pleasure. That is until he woke up and it twisted itself into the most agonizing pain.
He didn’t kid himself that the woman would ever want him for real so he had to find his sanctuary in the cradle of Morpheus. It was the only salve for his abused soul right now.
“You’re such a big boy!” dream Buffy always whispered to him. “You make me so wet, my love."
It had been years since the blond had experienced a wet dream like an overexcited teenager, but every night he woke up with his sticky spendings coating his inner thighs. Every single night without fail she allowed him to love her. And every single night she whispered the words he longed to hear into his ears.
“I love you, Spike.”
Just his bloody luck he’d never hear them outside of a state of unconsciousness. Pushing down the dull ache inside of him, Spike heaved himself from his makeshift bed and stumbled over to the refrigerator. There were still a few beers left in there even though he’d drunk the rest of the house dry.
Fuck!
That meant leaving his sanctuary and going outside. He couldn’t face dealing with people because all he wanted to do was to wipe the smug smirks off of their shiny happy faces.
He hated people! He hated Buffy!
But even more strongly than that…he hated himself.
The sad truth of the matter was that he had too much time to think. His mind was a maelstrom of destructive reflections and he couldn’t seem to find a way to lasso them and rein them in.
He’d spent a whole month like this, ever since he finished the court ordered community service that he received thanks to his little run in with Riley Finn’s snout. He knew how pathetic it was, but he actually preferred having to plant trees in the San Fernando Valley to sitting around drinking all day long. At least when he was doing hard labor his mind had an actual focus.
Now he only had one single minded focus.
Buffy Summers.
He needed her like he needed the air to breathe. She was so deeply embedded in him that he would happily be her willing slave if it meant she would touch him. He wished there was some way to make it happen.
Of course, moping in the privacy of his small San Diego bachelor pad wasn’t going to help him get the girl but right now he didn’t care. Beer was his best buddy and it wouldn’t spit hateful words at him or make him feel like something it scraped off of the bottom of its shoe.
A crash that sounded like it came from the kitchen yanked him out of his depressing thoughts and he surged to his feet. The blond grabbed a half empty beer bottle from the table to use as a weapon against the intruder. Spike didn’t have any pets so he figured he was about to beat the guts out of some poor sap.
However, when the intruder just came sauntering around the corner and took a seat on the chair opposite him, he scowled.
“Clement!” he exclaimed. “Now, what the buggering hell are you doing here?”
Clem shrugged, stroking a hand over his close cut black hair, his blue eyes glinting in the dull light. “Nice to see you too,” he said wryly, immune to the other man’s wild mood swings.
The pair of them had known each other a long time. They met when Spike first got into the adult entertainment industry. Clem was an illustrious director of the genre and he’d given Spike one of his first big breaks on the movie ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Me.’
At first they’d formed a tentative friendship, bonding over women and poker, but now Clem was probably the best friend that he had. However, it didn’t mean he liked the other man invading his wallowing time.
“I’ve been worried about you, man!” Clem exclaimed, running a hand over his cowlick. “I’ve been trying to call you for days and it’s like you just fell off the end of the earth. So here I am.” He grinned.
“Are you daft?” Spike asked the man standing in front of him. “You can’t just run around busting into people’s private homes!”
Clem ignored him and stepped forward, ignoring the rotten smell that assailed his nostrils as he drew closer to his friend. “You can when people don’t pick up their telephones or answer their doors in a month. Christ, man! We all thought you were dead or something.”
“Might have been better if I bloody was,” the blond muttered under his breath, before reaching for the open bottle of beer that he’d left on the coffee table in front of him.
Clem started with shock when he heard his friend’s words. He had been worried about the other man before but now he feared that suicide might be on the cards and that went absolutely no way at all to reassuring him that Spike was in a state of anything remotely resembling sanity.
He took the chance to look the younger man over, the ball of fear lodging even more profoundly in his gut. Spike’s roots were showing as his natural honey blond color peeked through. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a month. Which he quite possibly hadn’t. The blond actor had finished his court referred community service around that time and Clem hadn’t seen him since.
His clothes were bedraggled and wrinkled. They smelled like they hadn’t been changed in quite a while, not to mention the fact that they were covered in beer stains and god only knew what else.
“Holy crap, Spike,” Clem exclaimed as he eyed the smaller man. “What the hell happened to you?”
Spike shrugged and took another swig of his beer. He didn’t want to listen to Clem right now. There was no way that the other man could understand what he was going through. Spike was sure that even a thousand hot pokers through his skin wouldn’t compare to the excruciating agony of missing Buffy.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t looked for her either. He’d called up her agent and her puppy-dog manager. He’d even gone to the trouble of contacting her newest little buddy, Dawn. But she was AWOL. Funny that a girl who spent so much of her life in the public eye could seemingly disappear like that.
Well it would be funny if it wasn’t so infuriatingly painful.
“What do you think happened?” Spike said sharply, holding back the tears. “A bloody bird happened.”
“All this over a dame?” Clem said with wonderment. “She got beer flavored nipples or something?”
“Sod off, you git,” Spike groaned, but without any real venom. “She’s special.”
“She must be special to have reduced you to this.”
Spike’s eyes glazed as he thought about just how special she was. He knew that to some extent he placed her on a pedestal where she could do no wrong, no matter how badly she treated him. But he couldn’t help it. Guilt for his past sins against her combined with his own wholehearted way of loving prevented him from acting any other way.
“Come on, man,” Clem tried again, yanking the blond from his thoughts. He placed a calming hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “You need to take a shower.”
“Piss off,” Spike spit nastily, pulling his shoulder from the larger man’s grip. “I don’t want a bloody pissing shower. All I want is…her.”
Clem sighed. He told himself that he should have realized this was about a female! With Spike it usually was. When he’d first met the actor, Spike was pining over some woman from jolly ole England but he’d gotten over her eventually.
Six years ago he’d fallen into another depression and only a whole lot of coaching from Clem had pulled him from that low point. He’d never seen him quite this bad though.
“I still don’t get it. All this for a broad?” asked Clem, lighting himself a cigarette. He was only an occasional smoker but somehow Spike had the power to make him crave a nicotine fix.
“No, all this for a…Buffy.” groaned Spike. The taste of her name on his lips was bittersweet, like caramel laced with acid.
“What’s a Buffy?” Clem wrinkled his brow.
“She’s…she’s…That girl is my everything,” he slurred, his eyes darting wildly as he tried to focus on his friend’s face. “She’s the one that I need to keep my heart beating and my blood flowing. She’s my air and sun, my north and south, my…”
“Okay, I got it,” Clem said firmly, holding up a hand to halt Spike. “You’re into this chick, I understand that. I’m gonna take and guess and say she doesn’t feel the same?”
Spike shook his head and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He knew he was on the verge of unquenchable tears and, no matter how drunk he was, he didn’t want to cry in front of another man.
After all he did still have his manly pride…sort of.
Not that he didn’t understand why she was constantly rejecting him. Over the years he’d consistently proved himself to be a liar, an asshole or a thuggish brute. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d cultivated her contempt with his own actions.
With a heavy heart he thought back to his worst betrayal. The one that he believed didn’t make him any better than Riley Finn.
When a live, in color photograph of his clandestine meeting with Buffy at the diner appeared on the front of more than one gossip rag the next week, Spike wasn’t sure how he felt about it. A part of him rejoiced in seeing their rendez-vous exposed to the public. It cemented the fact that it was actually real.
And it Spike’s mind that meant that there was something real between him and Buffy.
The internet forums were full of hearsay about America’s sweetheart lowering herself to date the sex star. Some people even expressed their disgust with the union, which infuriated Spike.
Of course, Buffy denied that there was any connection between her and the lowly porn star. In a statement she claimed that she had inadvertently met Spike without realizing his line of work and immediately severed all connections with him as soon as she became aware of his work as a porn star. Despite the fact that it was the truth laid bare, it stabbed deeper into Spike and encouraged the growth of his depression.
Over the course of the next few weeks the rejection festered and turned bitter, like juice turning sour. And everything came to a head when he agreed to appear on Glorificus, one of the most notorious chat shows in the whole country.
Glory Barker, the host of Glorificus, was renowned for being a hard-nosed, hard-assed bitch. She asked the questions that really cut to the heart of the issue. She’d even been single-handedly responsible for ending more than one career and relationship in her time.
The first part of his interview with her was actually seemingly tame. However, he could tell that she was just biding her time before she pounced on him. The woman was like a cat taunting a mouse before it finally went in for the kill. So when the question came, he was expecting it.
“Come on now, spill the beans, Spike.” Glory leaned forward conspiratorially, her ample bosoms peeking out of her low cut dress. “Are you and Buffy Summers really an item?”
Spike was about to deny it, but a sudden anger rose up in him. The bitch had rejected him because she didn’t think he was good enough for her. She’d jilted him because of his job. He didn’t owe her or her reputation any favors. He smirked at Glory.
“Nah,” he told the curly haired blonde. “Nothing between me and her.”
“You’re not an item?” Glory said with a sly glint in her eyes. “But the two of you were pictured together. And it looked like more than a friendly kind of meeting.”
Spike frowned. The photo hadn’t shown anything other than the two of them sitting together in the diner, but people always formed their own wild interpretations of things. “I thought about it, but I didn’t think the chit was worth a go.”
A smirk formed on Glory’s over-painted face at his words and she leaned forward, her butt almost slipping off the edge of the couch. “And why would that be?” she asked breathily, as if she was about to climax right there.
Spike glanced around awkwardly at the audience, who were all sitting on the edge of their seats too, and turned straight to the camera. “Buffy Summers is what I like to call fools’ gold. She seems like a good bet for a shag but it’s all smoke and mirrors with her. The chit isn’t worth a dime. When you get to know her she’s an ice queen, mate.”
Glory sat back against the couch with a satisfied, triumphant look on her face and tossed her hair over her shoulders. “You heard it here first, people,” she told the cameras. “Buffy Summers is nothing more than an ice queen.”
Guilt assaulted him as he came out of the memory, his heart aching with regret. What he wouldn’t give to take that back now! Unfortunately, short of a time machine he was pretty much screwed in that respect. His posture slumped dejectedly.
“Maybe I should just give up.”
“You’re no quitter,” Clem replied like a middle aged, one man pep squad.
“I think I’m getting to the point where I’m embracing being a quitter.”
Clem patted his friend on the back, scrunching up his nose as another wave of unwashed Spike odor hit his nostrils. “Listen, man, you can fight for the one you love, or you can let her go. But don’t lose the girl by default. If you love her, really love her, then fight for her goddamn it. If she’s the one for you, you have to make her see that you’re the one for her. No substitutes, no excuses. Just you and her. So what’s it to be, champ?”
“I want her! Of course I bloody well do but that bird doesn’t give a toss about me. I could be dead for all she cares.”
Clem rolled his eyes and sank down on to the couch next to Spike. Trying not to gag from the smell that was wafting off his friend Clem flashed him a reassuring smile. “You’re a good catch, man. If I was a girl I’d be all over you.”
Spike quirked an eyebrow. “You know I don’t swing that way, right? I mean for the right money I might…”
“Dude! I don’t want to get into your pants. I’m trying to say she’d be a fool to turn you down.”
Spike scoffed bitterly. “Then color her foolish, I suppose. She’s probably off shagging some new oversized hall monitor right now anyway. Seems that’s her type. Tall, dark and moronic.”
“Woo! You got the jealousy bug bad,” Clem observed, shaking his head. He was getting increasingly worried for his friend by the moment.
“That’s it!” With a flash of sudden inspiration the blond haired man rose to his feet and started to pace. With the amount of alcohol in his blood stream he was a little wobbly but he was inspired and he wasn’t going to let this plan slip through the sieve that was his brain. “That’s what I bloody well need. I need jealousy bait.”
“What?” Clem scratched his head, watching his suddenly hyper maniacal friend bounce on his feet.
“Bait! A way to draw the bird to me. It’s a well known fact that women always want what they can’t have.” Clem frowned skeptically but Spike pushed on excitedly. “If I make myself unavailable she’s going to wet her panties in desire.”
“I don’t know…”
“Trust me mate! My whole damn business is about sexual attraction, so I know something about this, okay?”
Clem sighed. “Okay let’s say I buy the premise. It’s risky, man. How would it work anyway? Sure, you can make yourself unavailable but how’s she even going to see that you’re taken?”
“I just have to make her see it. It shouldn’t be too hard right?” Spike looked at his friend hopefully. “You can make it happen, can’t you? Hook me up with some actress or singer? Not Harmony.”
“I can try but I’m not sure it’s the best thing…” Clem interjected but Spike barreled right through his objection.
“Get us photographed by some magazine and we’re in the money.” He started to hum under his breath as he contemplated the possibilities. He was positive that as soon as Buffy saw him with someone else she would seethe with jealousy. It would draw her back to him like a moth to a flame and…voila.
“Maybe you should take a minute before you make any definite plans, dude…”
Once again Spike wouldn’t listen to Clem’s objections. He was sure that his plan would work. Buffy would fall to her knees to worship him as soon as she realized that someone else could snap him up at any time. “So that’s settled then.” Spike grinned with renewed hope and vigor.
Clem continued to frown but nodded slightly. “If it’s what you want then I’m here for you man. I’ll set up the stunt, your girl’ll go nuts with jealousy and then you’ll swoop in and get her back.”
Spike nodded decisively but almost immediately his face fell. “Only one problem. I can’t bloody well find the bint,” He sounded so disheartened, as if all the energy had been sapped from him once again, that Clem wondered if his friend might start bawling. He shifted uncomfortably at the thought.
Oh well, Clem to the rescue again.
“I’m sure I can get a fix on her,” Clem offered with another reassuring smile.
“You can do that?”
“I can try. I knew her manager back in days before he was so prim and proper. That boy was a wild one in his days.” Clem grinned nostalgically. “I can try calling in a favor from him. The boy owes me more than one. He might have changed but ole Ripper doesn’t let a friend down when he’s in need.”
“Appreciate it, mate,” Spike said, woozily sauntering over to his friend and offering him a solid pat on the back. “It’s good to have a wingman.”
“Well I want to see you happy. And not just the ‘eating buffalo wings, drinking beer’ kind of happy. I’m talking the ‘all out flush of love’ happy.”
“If it pans out then I think this could be that kind of happy,” Spike said, visualizing his golden goddess as he spoke. “This girl’s something else.”
“She’s that special, huh?”
“She’s the most wonderful woman on this earth. Buffy’s smart, even though she probably doesn’t realize it, and incredibly beautiful. The bird lights up every room she walks into. I can’t explain it, mate. But I think I’ll bloody well wither away and die without her.”
“Hey, you won’t be doing any withering on my watch,” Clem replied, sniffling after hearing Spike’s heartfelt speech. “Now you go get cleaned up and then you can start trying to get your girl back.”
“Thanks, mate,” smiled the blond. “You’re a good bloke.” Spike padded into the bathroom whistling a jaunty tune, leaving Clem staring after him.
His manager just hoped that Spike knew what he was doing this time. He had a feeling that any more rejections by the object of his affections would leave Spike totally crushed.
He sighed. He didn’t have the best feeling about this.
With Clem’s words still swirling in his brain, Spike stepped under the cool spray of the shower. For the first time in a while he actually felt more positive about his quest for Buffy. Suddenly she didn’t seem so unreachable. Add a dash of jealousy to the mix and he was sure she’d been falling to her knees at his feet.
Of course, that image conjured up thoughts of a more perverted nature.
He wrapped his hands around the thickness of his milky cock and began to pump it steadily using the soapy water as a lube. Behind his closed eyelids, Buffy slipped off her clothes and dropped naked to her knees in front of him. The blonde met his eyes and licked her lips predatorily. He envisaged Buffy’s hands taking the place of his own to bring him off. The thought of her kneeling in front of him, her little pink tongue working the end of his dick sent shudders wracking through him, and he had to brace himself against the tile.
As he imagined her slipping the whole length of his cock into her throat, his hand worked his dick frantically, the pressure building within him.
It wasn’t long before his eyes were rolling back in his skull and his load was spurting from the head of his dick. Her name spilled from his lips as he slumped against the cool tile of the shower wall.
“Buffy!” he hissed with pure carnal desire. “Bloody hell!”
He really needed to feel Buffy surrounding his currently softening appendage.
And soon.
Or he might just lose his mind.