CHAPTER ELEVEN:
The night air was cool and calm as Buffy made her way through one of the many cemeteries in Sunnydale, having made sure that everyone else had adequate arrangements to get home from the restaurant. Yet more words of thanks and praise had been levelled at Spike as the goodbyes were exchanged; Spike was tying his best to get used to them, but they still felt peculiar. Anya had expressed the frustration she was feeling at the moment, mentioning Xander and his now seemingly ever-present sullen mood and pre-occupation with Buffy and Spike's relationship.
“Honestly? You'd think that Buffy was HIS girlfriend, the way that he's been acting since you told him that you and Spike were going to be together! I don't understand it at all! He's been practically ignoring me, except to complain!”
Buffy tried her best to reassure Anya that Xander would calm down eventually and once he had, she would try her best to get through to him and set him straight.
Following her route that she had planned to end conveniently at Spike's crypt, she encountered only two seemingly stupid fledglings, both of which were perfectly content to dust themselves on Buffy's stake in their rush to attack her. All she had to do was hold her stake in front of her chest and allow the overly zealous vamps to impale themselves. 'Decidedly unsatisfying' would be the words of choice that she would use when Spike later asked her how her patrol went.
Still, dusting vamps, idiots though they were, was not the main focus of her night-time excursion. She needed privacy, if only for a while, something she could not be assured of at home. There was no two ways about it, Buffy was horny. Spike seemed to have awakened something within her. Something primal and instinctive. She had found herself trying desperately to balance the yearning that this force was giving her with the more emotional side of herself that wanted the loving and tenderness that she knew Spike would give her. At the moment, however, the scales were tipped heavily towards primal yearning, thus her search for privacy.
Reaching Spike's crypt, not a minute too soon in her estimation, as her channel was throbbing with need, she pushed open the door, and swept the dim interior with her eyes at the same time as extending her senses. Satisfied that she was alone, she moved through the upper level, seeing nothing extraordinary or out of place. Moving the stone slab that covered the entrance to the lower level proved to be no real struggle for her, her slayer strength making reasonably light work of it. It was heavy enough for Spike to be reasonably confident that no human could move it, and so it functioned fine for his needs, being vulnerable as he was to humans in general, and, with a slight flicker of worry, Xander in particular. Just as her mind was beginning to wander on that circumstance, and a more pronounced sense of worry began to filter through to her thoughts, she was brought out of her reverie by the sensation of liquid running slowly down her leg.
Apparently, her body was less concerned with Spike's safety than her brain was at this instant. Looking down into the darkness that was Spike's home, she realised, rather belatedly, that she had no light source. 'God! I am so mentally challenged!'
Shouting at her internal voice to 'shut up!' she looked around the crypt, using the moonlight that filtered in through the windows high on the crypt's walls to see by. She couldn't contain the breath of relief she exhaled upon spotting what looked like a cheap, throw-away plastic lighter lying on the arm of the chair in front of his T.V.
Snatching it up and testing it a few times, she pocketed it and turned back to the hole in the floor. Because of the lack of lighting, she thought it probably best to not just jump down into the darkness but instead, making out the top of it in the gloom, used the ladder that was propped up against the lower edge of the hole.
Reaching the bottom rung without incident, she sparked the lighter and peered into the dark. Moving with grace, she picked her way into the main chamber, and managed to just make out the silhouette of Spike's bed. Calling on her memory of the few times that she'd been here previously, she moved up to the left side of it and found the small, low table that she remembered had supported three thick pillar candles. They were still there, and still of a reasonable height, meaning that they would last for a while yet. Lighting them, she used the additional light to move to the other side of the bed and lit the candles that she found sitting on a rocky outcropping protruding from the wall of the chamber.
She paused and took in her surroundings. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, for a hole in the ground, Spike had done a good job of making it comfortable and feeling like it was lived in... homey, even cozy. An obviously scavenged bookcase stood along the wall opposite the bed, its shelves covered in books that Buffy couldn't read the titles of in the flickering glow of the candles. Well worn, soft rugs covered the ground, all of them sporting different designs, but not appearing to be too mismatched. Another armchair was placed on the other side of the bedside table with the candles, and a book lay closed on its arm.
Turning her gaze to the bed, her overheated pussy gave an involuntarily clench, once again signalling its need to be attended to. She could feel her moist panties squishing between her legs, and her clit throbbed relentlessly. 'God! I’ve never felt like this before!' She didn't need to investigate with her hand to know that she was burning hot and dripping wet. She'd been like this practically all day, wanting, yearning, for something to fill her, to be inside her, and if she'd had her way, it would have been Spike. More of her fantasies rose to the fore, and she couldn't stop the whimper that fell from her lips as her mind provided her all the material she knew that she'd need to try and satisfy herself, satisfy the relentless, burning desire inside her.
Shedding her clothing in a flash, she crawled onto Spike's bed, clad only in her underwear, and lay down, positioning herself on her left side, her weight on her legs, hip, ribs and elbow as she propped her head up on her left hand. Closing her eyes, she let her mind conjure the images that she most wanted, images of Spike touching her lightly, tracing his fingers over her skin, soft and slow, but with a passion burning behind his eyes.
Her hand was following her Fantasy-Spike's movements, tracing the skin of her stomach with feather-light softness, moving slowly upwards, over her ribcage, caressing her breast through the lacy material of her bra. She softly grazed her nipple, and gasped in response, her moist pussy once again clenching and squeezing. Her fingers found their way over the top of her bra, rolling her nipple between them, bringing it to an almost painful hardness, before moving to the other breast, and pebbling that nipple as well. Each indrawn breath raised her chest, and the small movements led to her nipples scraping and scratching against her bra blissfully. Sparks flew through her with each scrape; sparks that eventually found their way to her core, causing more cream to flow from her, more throbbing in her channel as her walls tightened and relaxed, as if searching for something to clamp down on and squeeze. She needed to have something inside her, something deep in her body. She needed Spike. She needed his cock, all of it, inside her.
Rolling onto her back and arching slightly, she removed her bra, and once again let her hands travel up her body, to cup and caress her delicate tits. Only, in her mind, it wasn't her hands, they were Spike's. He was stroking and squeezing her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples, all of it building the fire in her body to a raging inferno.
She could picture him moving up her body, placing kisses along his path from stomach to ribs to finally rest at her tits. One savage pinch, and she imagined it was him, biting down on her nipple, pulling a gasp from her, part ecstasy, part delicious, pleasurable pain. In her fantasy, Spike didn't speak, the only sound that broke the silence was Buffy's ragged breathing and her delicate whimpers and soft moans.
One hand came up to her neck, and stroking the unmarked side, the side untouched by Angel, the Master or Dracula, she imagined Spike was placing delicate kisses to the sensitized flesh there, all the while, keeping up his assault on her nipple with his talented fingers. While her mind was in her own world, one she shared with Fantasy-Spike, her body was most definitely firmly rooted in reality. The cool air of the crypt was wreaking havoc on her heated skin, and goosebumps were forming all over her, raising her sensitivity to almost mammoth proportions. The slightest touch, the gentlest whisper of breath had her reacting in such ways that someone would think she was in pain, and she nearly was. Over and over, her body shouted at her, screamed at her, to find Spike. 'Find Spike and let him fill me! Please! I need him! I need him inside me!'
It was all starting to close in on Buffy. The tension, the yearning, the sensitive skin, the burning of her core. It was all becoming too much, but at the same time, she knew it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough until the primal side that seemed to have awoken in her these last few days had gotten what she demanded, and what she demanded was Spike. Simply Spike. She wanted to feel him sliding into her body, touching those spots that were hidden, but yet she knew that he would find with expert ease. She wanted to see the look in his eyes as he pressed into her core, as he felt her heat engulf him. She wanted to look into those blue eyes of his as he buried his cock into her willing pussy over and over again, and she wanted to see and feel him as he exploded inside her. Her mind was doing its best to supply images to all these thoughts, and her hands, both of them now having returned to her breasts, were also doing their best to bring Buffy some kind of release, some kind of respite from the burning ache that was building in her tightening core.
With a final tug and pinch, Buffy's body arched slightly, lifting her back off the bed as a gentle ripple of pleasure passed through her muscles. It was nowhere near the destructive force of the orgasm Spike had ripped from her through his bite, but as it flowed gently through her, she felt some of the tension leave her, except for her aching centre. That, it seemed, was not satisfied … not in the least!
Regaining her breath quickly, she wasted no time in tracing her hands down her body and stripping away her panties in one quick motion, freeing her steaming hole. Her mind once again pictured Spike, this time poised between her legs, his eyes looking straight into hers as his tongue reached out and touched her. Her fingers slid easily between her swollen, pulsing petals, dripping with her juice, and liberally coating them with her desire. Buffy's fingers glided around her clit, not yet touching the yearning nubbin, down to her pulsing opening. Her channel throbbed in need, desperate for attention, needing to be filled, but she only teased the sensitive skin around her hole, sending white-hot fire racing though her veins. As her breathing quickened, she moved her fingers back to her clit, suddenly changing from teasing to more forceful touches. She rubbed at her bundle of nerves roughly, almost violently as her gasps filled the room, breaking the silence. 'OH SPIKE, YES! THERE, RIGHT THERE! PLEASE!'
Over and over again, she rubbed at her clit, her fingers being engulfed in the heat that was emanating from her pussy. Using one hand to keep her breasts sensitised by squeezing on them and pulling at her nipples, her other hand moved back down to trace her delicate, fleshy lips. She noted that she was leaking like a tap, something that had never happened to her before, not with her previous sexual partners and certainly not brought on by herself. It was a testament to how much her body desired Spike, and what she wanted him to do to her. Fantasy Spike was still tracing her folds with his tongue, gentle swipes and the occasional probe to her aching hole bringing her closer to the edge. Her fingers were almost being burned as the heat radiating from her core seemed to intensify as she touched and caressed herself, imagining it was Spike.
Finally, in time with the pictures behind her eyelids, she pressed a finger inside herself, gasping as she pushed through the clenching tightness of her sheath. She could feel her walls, slick and supple, accept the invasion as they moulded 'round her finger, her body still unsatisfied. It just wasn't enough. She wanted Spike, his length pushing through her, his girth stretching her and filling her. She wanted to feel all of him, inside her, throbbing, moving, pushing and pulling. She wanted to feel his weight on her, feel his strength, his soft skin, his gentle kisses, his aching hardness. Her finger was a poor substitute, but it was all she had. She tried to make up for its shortcomings by imagining it was Spike's, that he was the one invading her body, tracing her channel and pulling more pleasure from her. Even with this image in her mind, she needed more, and added another finger, this time stretching her sensitive entrance slightly, adding a slight burning sensation to the feeling of fullness inside her.
Taking a steadying breath, and clenching her eyes tightly, she increased the pace of her fingering, picturing Spike above her, his hips pushing against her in time with her movements as the thought of his cock filling her invaded her mind. 'Yes, Spike, oh baby, please, take me, please, PLEASE!'
Over and over, her fingers plunged into her core, the burning cream coating her walls allowing them to slide into her smoothly and quickly. She wished that she could go deeper, to touch the spots inside her that she couldn't reach, but she contented herself with the knowledge that Spike's length would be able to reach them, pummel them, batter them until she was a useless pile of flesh and bone.
Concentrating with all her might on her mind's eye, she pictured herself pulling Spike down on top of her, pressing her breasts to his chest as her hands flew to his hips, controlling his thrusts, trying to encourage him to go deeper, harder, faster. Her slayer instinct reared its head and screamed out in dissatisfaction and rage! The pictures in her brain were exactly what it wanted, Spike on top of her, close to her, inside her, his cock impaling her, becoming a part of her body. But all she had was a couple of fingers, it just wasn't enough!
Buffy was torn between sobbing in frustration, and moaning in pleasure. The feelings flowing through her were wonderful, the sensations beautiful, but at the same time, she couldn't quash the yearning that she was feeling for more, something just a little... ...more.
Her hand abandoned her breast and travelled down to join in the assault on her dripping, burning mound. Keeping up her rhythm of pumping in and out, she now circled her clit as well, applying a rolling pressure to it in the hopes of speeding her release.
Buffy's mind seemed to fracture at this point, the sensations producing two separate scenarios behind her eyes. The first, of Spike slipping his length deep inside her clenching pussy was ever present, and she relished the feelings that this evoked in her, at once primal and intimate. The thoughts of letting Spike inside her body while pulling him closer and deeper was at once thrilling and beautiful, and, oh how she wanted it. No longer the two of them-- separate and alone-- but both of them sharing her body, letting him become a part of her. The part of her that she hadn't known that she was missing.
The second image, that of Spike with his face buried between her legs, tonguing and sucking at her clit and lapping at her folds drove her wild with want. The images and thoughts of sharing so intimate and slightly dirty, at least to Buffy's inexperienced mind, an action caused her walls to clamp down on her fingers, squeezing them tightly, inadvertently slowing her pace. The image of Fantasy-Spike, his tongue plunging into her creaming hole, pulling her juices into his mouth and swallowing her down like it was the finest champagne, would forever be burned on her brain. At least, that was what she hoped, until she could replace it with the real thing.
That image suddenly sparked something else in her racing mind, a question that she hadn't thought of until that moment. She pictured Spike swallowing down her cream as he traced and licked the scorching flesh of her pussy, but what would happen when the time came for her to return the act? She'd never given a blow-job before. The idea of doing that to Riley had almost twisted her stomach, such was her level of objection. And as for Angel? Forget it! That had been her first sexual experience of any kind, there was no way that she was going to do that to him.
Her hands stilled in their movements. Images from earlier in the day burst into her mind. Her, on her knees, fingers buried inside herself as Spike slid into her mouth over and over again. A moan slipped from her lips and her sheath tightened in response. 'God, I want that! I REALLY want that. I want Spike in my mouth!' The thought of having Spike's cock in her mouth, sucking him slowly as he growled and moaned for her, it set her body aflame. To have that beautiful and powerful man completely at her mercy was an incredible turn-on, Buffy's level of arousal rising ever higher as the image became more and more clear.
She could almost hear his words as she took him into her mouth, hear his growls as she went deeper, hear him whimper as he touched the back of her throat, and shout in surprise as she pictured herself pushing forward, taking him down her throat. God, she wanted to do that, just to hear those noises and to see the look on his face as she sucked and swallowed around him.
The thought brought Buffy's slayer side to the surface fully, excited and tantalized by the power to elicit all those reactions from Spike. To have that deadly vampire at her mercy called strongly to something deep and primal within the slayer side of the woman.
'Oh, just think of it, his hands in our hair, holding us gently as we take him in. Looking into his eyes as we take him deeper and deeper, down our throat. Oh God, just imagine the look on his face as he cums for us! We get to swallow him down, just like he does for us. GOD! I WANT THAT! DON'T YOU WANT THAT?! WE CAN HAVE THAT!'
Buffy's slayer side was insistent about this, and would not be ignored on this point. She made it very clear to Buffy what it was that she wanted and the accompanying images did little else but lend more fuel to the already raging fire in her body. The thought of letting Spike cum in her mouth, and swallowing him down had her clenching and squeezing her temporarily forgotten fingers with her slicked walls, bringing her back to the moment.
Buffy's breath came faster, her heart thudding in her chest, beads of perspiration forming on her shin as she let that thought take centre stage in her mind. She resumed her pumping movements, skimming through her smooth, wet, aching flesh in earnest. Again, her brain provided her with two images simultaneously, one of her taking Spike's length into her mouth, and the other of Spike still lapping and suckling at her pussy. The images were so erotic, Buffy couldn't help but moan and writhe, her clit pulsing with energy as she slowly circled it, adding pressured pushes every now and again.
The thought of Spike emptying himself down her throat and filling her belly was so overwhelmingly dirty and hot that Buffy had her fingers in her mouth before she had even realised what she was doing. The need her body had to feel her swallow down something was too great, and her subconscious had kicked in and taken over for her. And so it was that she found herself sucking and licking her cream-covered fingers, swallowing her own essence down greedily. It turned out that this had a couple of rather surprising side-effects: not only did she discover, in her highly aroused state, that she loved the taste of her own pussy juice, but, even more shocking given her current level of horniness, it also seemed to fire her arousal levels up a notch. Without missing a beat, she hastily returned her fingers to her aching, burning hole and resumed her rhythm, all the while licking her lips of her spendings and swallowing them down as well.
The small, quiet rational voice at the back of her head, that had seemingly been on holiday since she'd ended up on Spike's bed, suddenly spoke up, 'That's fair, seeing as how I’m gonna let Spike have a taste. At least I know what I’m gonna be giving him!'
Though Buffy's eyes had been closed throughout that little 'tasting experiment', they flew open as a new image made its way from her imagination to her mind's eye. She once again pictured herself bent over on her knees and forearms, Spike slamming into her from behind with power and speed. She could see herself screaming out in pleasure, see her body trembling in rapture, her hair cascading in waves over her back and shoulders; she could hear her screams in her ears as she begged Spike to go deeper, to give her more, to break her and take her and make her his.
'Thank god for slayer stamina!' thought Buffy as once again, her motions sped up, her fingers almost a blur of movement as she fingered herself and rubbed at her clit. She'd never had sex in the doggy-style position, never been taken from behind, but if her fantasies were doing the position justice, then she wanted it, and once again, her slayer's instinct growled her approval at the images bombarding her.
Bathed in the golden glow of the candles, soft satin sheets beneath her, the cool air of the crypt prickling her over-heated skin, and Spike's scent filling her nostrils, she felt like everything was different. She'd never felt like this before; never been this crazed, this aroused, this wild and untamed, this primal. She'd never had such lurid and erotic fantasies, never felt such blissful pleasure as she touched herself. It felt amazing, liberating, like a dam inside her had shattered and released the woman from the confines of the girl … or perhaps it was the slayer that had been released. Either way, she never wanted to go back.
As much as part of her wished it would, the new-found bliss couldn't last forever, Buffy knew that, and so it was with almost a sense of relief, that she felt her climax finally approaching. It would finally happen for her, here, lying on Spike's bed, her pussy full of her fingers, her belly full of her own cream, and her mind picturing Spike slamming into her body from behind, Buffy would get the release that she'd sought since the day of the bite. Since Spike had awoken her … broken the dam inside her.
Her breathing hitched, her eyes screwed themselves tightly shut, the fingers of both of her hands went into a frenzy of motion, assaulting both her tightening channel and her throbbing clit with furious intensity. Her muscles seemed to coil themselves dangerously tight, pulling like bowstrings, arching her body deliciously.
Then, she knew it.
She knew fire.
She knew pleasure.
She knew... ...release. Heavenly, blissful release.
Her body froze for a single moment, a moment that seemed to span time itself, as Buffy tried to hold onto the rapture for one more moment, before the tension snapped, her muscles contracted and relaxed and her body was washed away with fire and pleasure. Her nerves sang in relief, her body rejoicing in the release of tension, and her mind drifted away, allowing only the physical to be processed by her brain. A sobbing whimper escaped her as she came, a palpable relief washing over her as the tension in her body uncoiled like a tightly-wound spring that had been set free of its bindings.
As she came back to herself, and her brain regained its ability to process thought and feelings, a dreamy smile graced her lips. 'Next time, Spike gets to help me.' Taking a deep, calming breath, Buffy smiled wider. That was right. The next time it would be her and Spike together, and she had no doubt in her mind that what would happen then would make this look like a candle comparing itself to a wild forest fire. She shivered at the thought.
Sitting up, she scanned the area around the bed, making sure that she could find all her clothes in the dwindling candlelight, before sinking back down again. She wanted a few more minutes to revel in the after-glow of her orgasm. The warmth that had pulsed through her with her release was still close to the surface of her skin, which was still deliciously sensitive to the cool air of the crypt. Closing her eyes as her hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her head, she let out a satisfied sigh. 'Mission accomplished.'
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello, one and all. So here we are, another chapter. My thanks go out to P4S and PaganBaby for their wonderful help and support, and to everyone that has read and reviewed. I love hearing what you guys (and girls, OK, mostly girls) think. Thank you very much to each and every one of you. As usual, I don't own anything connected to BTVS, and no copyright infringement is intended. This is done purely for entertainment.
Chapter End Notes:
As mentioned previously, my thanks go out to PB and P4S for their help and support, PB for her beautiful banners and P4S for her invaluable beta work. Thanks girls, you're both amazingly awesome! I hope people like where I'm going with this. As a first time author, I can't tell you how much I appreciate each and every review I've received, so, once again, a huge thank you to everybody that has left me a comment. Thanks everyone, take care.