The Love Shack - An Occasional Series
Chapter 2 – Points of View
It had been agonizingly slow for the last several nights – slayage wise. Just once I’d like the demons and children of darkness to abide by my schedule. Willow had been gone for 3 nights and wasn’t due back until tomorrow. That had left me with gobs of time on my hands and more than a little frustration to work through. Some vampire ass kicking was just what Buffy needed. But had they complied? No – not a one. Now I’m frustrated from lack of Willow and lack of slayage. And I just know they’ll be out in full force tomorrow night since Will was going to be back home. This takes the whole Life is Unfair idea into the next realm.
OK – so I wasn’t dealing with missing Willow all that well. Who knew I’d be missing her this much? We had only been together for a week when she went to visit Oz in San Diego. His band was playing a few gigs in the area and I guess I can see how he’d be going through withdrawal considering he hadn’t seen her in six weeks. I don’t know how he handled it. Maybe I should ask him how he keeps sane during separations…
God! What was I thinking? Talk to Oz about missing sex with Willow? I must have been loosing my mind. As a shook my head to clear those way weird and troubling thoughts from my mind, the bushes to my left started to rattle. Action, at last! My euphoria was short lived as a stray dog flushed a nesting bird from its home.
I felt bad for the bird. It was probably sleeping, being after midnight and all. Since I had seen nada in the two plus hours I had been patrolling, I decided to call it a night. I would give my stimulating report to Giles come morning – or afternoon, depending how late I decided to sleep. That was one nice thing about summer -patrol at night, sleep all morning and get in some quality sparing after lunch. No worries about reports or studying or falling asleep in my 10am.
With the amount of cash Will now controlled, I wouldn’t have to worry about the necessities of life. But was I the type to sponge off a friend like that? She seemed ok with providing for me. Hell, I never dreamed I would actually own a Mustang. But should I use my calling to justify not providing for myself? If she wanted to share, who was I to argue? But I would continue to argue…
When I finally arrived at the little apartment Willow and I now shared, I went straight to the bathroom and began a hot shower. Undead or no undead – after patrolling I always felt in need of a cleaning. Like I could wash the slayer part of me away and be Buffy if only for a little while.
I stripped and stepped into the steaming spray of water. After not being with anyone for over a year, my body quickly adapted to nightly orgasms under Willow’s skillful hands… and lips… and teeth… and tongue… She didn’t seem to mind giving me my release first before allowing me to return the favor.
This line of thought was getting me nowhere fast. I had started soaping my arms and shoulders but as I remembered those nights in Willow’s arms, my hands found my breasts. They were generously lathered and had to be immaculately clean since I had been massaging them for the better part of five minutes. My nipples were taut and achy from the constant rubbing. As I passed my fingers over my erect flesh, I realized I hadn’t masturbated in eons.
That was going to change tonight. With a concerted effort, I removed my hands from my breasts and reached for the bottle of shampoo. Quick work was made of my hair. I washed my legs, putting off shaving for another day. Not like Willow would be home to complain. Not that she ever did. I don’t know if she sympathized, knowing it was such a chore or just didn’t care, she was too happy I was alive to have to worry about stubble. My ego liked to think it was the latter but my mind conceded it was probably the former.
I rinsed and dried and padded into my bedroom. As usual, the bed was unmade but not a total disaster. I climbed in and laid on my back. My hands returned to my breasts and started kneading again. It felt so nice to manipulate my nipples to hardened little peaks. I pulled my knees up and let my legs fall open. I could feel the slight breeze from the window cooling the heated skin of my sex. Interesting sensation. The wind blew over the wetness collected between my thighs enough to cause a shiver of reaction, but nowhere near enough for relief.
I allowed one hand to drift south and play idly in the small patch of hair. My actions caused my need to increase. How would I best serve myself? Fast and hard or slow and easy? I figured I could start with slow and accelerate things if need be.
I worked a couple of fingers between the lips of my labia to gather some of the wetness to lubricate my clit. It was just beginning to peak out from under its hood when I touched it for the first time. The shock that went through my body made my nerves go on fire, especially those in my nipples and sex. It was such a pleasant experience, I rubbed myself again, relishing in the jolts of pleasure traveling through my system. I fell into a steady rhythm and my hips soon joined the action, pumping to the beat my fingers set. I think they were worried they’d miss out on all the fun.
My breathing was becoming erratic. I kept licking my lips as my panting dried the little moisture on them. God, I was close. One hand continued to pinch and twist a nipple while the other rubbed the wonderful little bundle of nerves in never ending circles. But something was missing. Something basic. I was right on the edge, but I wouldn’t or couldn’t fall over. Frustration was mounting and shorting out the climax I had building. No! I was not going to be denied in this as well. If only Willow were here… She’d set me off like a fire-cracker. Those strong, gentle fingers. Knowing just where to touch, to stroke, how hard and how long.
As a vision of Willow filled my mind, I crashed over the top of the precipice with a moan. A few shudders later, I was almost asleep, but a new breeze licked my sweat soaked body causing me to shiver in reflex. I removed my fingers from between my legs, gathered up my blankets and rolled onto my side, tucking one hand under my head. Sleep claimed me quickly. I was sated for the moment and Willow would be back tomorrow. All was right with my world.
* * * * *
The sun was just cresting over the distant mountains as I pulled into Sunnydale. The four days with Oz were wonderful. And the band was doing awesome, like almost ready to be begging for a recording deal, awesome. But to get to the ready stage meant they’d have to go out touring – further away than San Diego or LA. That meant even longer separations from Oz. I was happy for him but sad about us. Would we survive that much time apart?
I was in an emotional upheaval as I drove through the awakening town. It was a good to have a town to come home to. Living on a Hellmouth – well… one could never take its continued existence for granted. A smile spread across my face. If the town was still here, so was Buffy. It would take the entire place crumbling before her for her to let this place go.
Ah, home. It should be strange to think of it like that. I’ve only been living here a few weeks and that’s if you count the days I had just spent with Oz. Really, it’s Buffy’s place. A small two-bedroom apartment on the ground floor on the back-side of a complex. Being the caretaker’s place, originally, meant it had its own outside entrance. Much more conducive to slaying than the more sought after sixth floor apartments at the front.
Buffy insisted I move in with her when I got back from Boston and we got back from the coast. After a year out from under my parents’ roof I was glad for the offer and jumped at the chance. Once Mom noticed my absence, I would have to deal with questions no kid wants their parents asking. Granted, given my Mom’s track record for total lack of attention where I was concerned, I might have gotten to 30 before reality struck her between the eyes.
Okay, so the fact that my new lover – what a wonderfully unexpected term – would be living in the next bedroom instead of across town had only everything to do with my decision. Those first few days back were like we never left the beach house. We slept curled or draped around, over, beside, on top of or underneath each other every night. It was a preposition lover’s dream come true.
We slept soundly, like there was any other choice. We wore each other out bringing the other to multiple orgasms – another wonderful term! It seemed like the fighting Buffy did against the forces of darkness acted as extended foreplay for her. She’d get home and would be naked by the time she crossed the threshold into my bedroom. She was always ready – dripping wet. She wouldn’t say a word, just beg me with her eyes.
The first night after I moved into the apartment, I was greeted in such a way. But that night her eyes held a hint of fear, like I would turn her away. I opened my arms and she threw herself into them. Her lips claimed mine. She was possessed with some need I didn’t understand but was happy to fulfill.
She wasted no time, pulling my hand between her thighs. She was so very ready for whatever I decided to do. I entered her with two fingers as my thumb worked her clit. The moan my entrance elicited was of relief and gratification. I did little work other than angle my fingers to hit her G-spot. She worked herself on my hand; raising up until I thought she would loose me, before allowing herself to slide back down.
I couldn’t help but wonder how she had managed while I was away. I would find out soon enough. I keyed the lock and dropped my overnight bag in my room before heading to the kitchen. I really didn’t expect to see her up at the ungodly early hour of ten to seven. But that worked for me. I could join her for a few hours of shuteye. The drive had been long and mind numbingly boring.
Per my suspicions, Buffy was still in bed, on her right side with her back to the door. Deciding I was in way too many clothes, I undressed and pulled back the covers. The scent that hit me caused me to smirk. Well, I guess that answered how she was managing without me.
I crawled into bed and pulled the sheet over my shoulder before spooning against Buffy’s back. I placed my left hand on her hip more for something to do with it than anything sexual. She didn’t wake up, but took my hand in hers and brought it to her chest – nestled between her breasts. I sighed and joined her in slumber.
* * * * * * *
I woke rested but horny with a too cool surprise pressed against my back. My Wills had evidently gotten back early. I wasn’t going to complain. I desired her, wanted her… needed her – in the worst, or perhaps, the best - possible ways. But I had a sneaking suspicion that shaking her awake to ask for a quickie was not the way to win friends and influence people – especially a petite, redheaded, hacker.
Besides, she had put my needs first since we started together. I could put her first. It’s not like I’m some kinda animal that can’t control her baser urges. Besides, didn’t Cosmo say that the longer you hold off, the better it is in the end? A little experiment was in order. But Cosmo would have Hell to pay if they were lying. Hell hath no furry like a frustrated Buffy!
I lay on my side studying Willow. She was on her back with her head turned toward me. She looked no older than the day we met when she’s sleeping. I still loved seeing her in those overalls.
I was almost hypnotized by the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. I never took much notice of my own. They’re just kinda there – once I got over the awe of actually having them. They stopped fascinating me years ago, but I never get tired of looking at Willow’s. I could almost fit one in my hand, so they weren’t overly large. I think I liked it better that way. There was little chance they would get saggy any time soon. Somewhere in the back of my mind I hoped to live to see the day that they would.
Yet, right now, her breats were very firm and topped by the cutest, pink nipples that blended into the natural curve of the flesh. That was where I would start. I spent long moments sucking and licking them until they puckered and stood out tall and erect. I got lost in the feel of them elongating under my tongue and lips.
I was cradling her sides as I mouthed those little peaks. I had just started on the second when I felt her stir beneath me. Her fingers came up and smoothed the hair over my ears before one hand worked its way to the back of my neck to play in the strands at the nape. I know I moaned as she played over my scalp, but I think she did too. She still hadn’t opened her eyes but as I peaked at her face there was a smile caressing her lips.
I left the nipple I had been sucking to lick and nip my way up her chest. I continued to watch her as I made my way north. She must have been enjoying my ministrations – she was purring! I could feel her chest vibrating under my lips. I had never heard her make that sound before, but filed away the knowledge for a later date.
Finally I reached her lips. I covered them with my own and teased them open with my tongue. I knew she was awake and she knew that I knew she was awake, but she still hadn’t opened her eyes. That was Okay with me. Mine were no longer open either and as her tongue danced with mine, her hands traveled over my back – nails scratching lightly along my spine. I think I started purring at that point.
When our kiss ended, I softly placed my lips over one eye then the other before I pulled back and watched them appear for the first time. They were smiling almost as much as her mouth was. I matched her grin then buried my face in her neck as I hugged her.
I was surprised that my need seemed to have ebbed into the background. I knew it was there but it was secondary to the beautiful creature under me. Yes, I thought her beautiful. I knew she didn’t see herself that way and I swore to myself that I would remember to tell her often.
My declaration would have to wait. I was much too busy massaging her neck with my mouth. I enjoyed doing it and she seemed to enjoy having it done to her – so it all kinda worked out. Soon I had made a row of small red marks from behind her ear to the hollow of her throat. This wasn’t turtleneck weather, so hopefully our friends would just assume they were remembrances from San Diego. At times it was handy to have her involved with Oz.
I slid down her chest and tugged a nipple lightly between my teeth. The purr changed to a moan at that little maneuver. My ego was sufficiently rewarded by that sound. Although I was thoroughly content to suckle at her breast for the rest of my days, my nose told me Willow was ready for a more intimate touch.
I left her chest and blazed a direct route to the auburn patch between her thighs. I bent her knees and spread her legs so I could fit myself down for a feast. She took several deep, gasping, breaths while I kissed and nuzzled the juncture of her legs. I ran my tongue over her outer lips before delving deeper to gather some of her essence.
I never imagined myself needing anything as much as I need to taste Willow at that very moment. She was thick and salty and something that was entirely her. I coated my tongue and drank of her deeply. I was inadvertently driving her batty. I had ignored that wonderful little bundle of nerves at the top of her slit in favor of my own thirst.
Willow did not let me neglect her for long. Her hips moved until I had no choice but to wrap my lips around her clit. She rewarded me with a low, breathy moan. Not that I needed encouragement. I felt her lengthen as my tongue played around and over her nub. You had to love the fact that there was no other use for this piece of flesh than pleasure. If I ever meet my maker, I must remember to thank her for this wonderful addition. Yes, I said her… a male never would’ve given up such a fun toy.
It was a good thing I was the Slayer. I clamped one arm over her hips to keep their movement confined to where I could still work her over. If the sounds coming from the head of the bed were any indication, Willow wouldn’t last much longer. It saddened me that my fun was soon going to end. Unless I took drastic measures.
I released her clit and went back to stroking her length with slow, languid strokes. My Wills was less than thrilled with the change. But she seemed to forgive me as I entered her with my tongue. Yes, she was definitely enjoying the steady fucking I was delivering.
She grabbed the hand I had across her abdomen as she began to come. Her inner walls clenched at my invading muscle. My extra stamina served me – and her – well. I kept thrusting until I heard my name rush from her lips. I gently cleaned the excessive liquid from her labia before climbing up next to her and pulling her into my arms. She sighed, kissed me softly on the ear, mumbling something I couldn’t understand.
Her eyes were closed again. I supposed that was a good thing. A small smile graced her lips. I had put that there. Some people think I do amazing things by being able to take on entities three times my weight and better than a foot taller. But seeing that smile… maybe, just maybe, I’ve been chosen to do something more important.
* * * * * * * *
Oh, wow… Wow, oh, wow… I have… wow. Buffy was, amaz… wow.
Now that was a most wonderful way to greet the day. I just may come back to earth at some point – God, I hope not.
I should really get functional and repay my way generous lover. I just can’t seem to operate on anything but the most basic level. It’s a damn good thing breathing is automatic. Dying from an orgasm would be kinda anti-climatic. So to speak. Ugggh, I must be out of it. I’m beginning to sound like Xander.
That is the last time I do that kind of driving. I just have to remember I can afford a damn plane ticket and a driver. Maybe I should buy a plane… nah, mental note: utilize air travel. That should do it. Now where was I?
I flexed my hand and moved my leg to find myself snuggled against Buffy. I think my mind was still on overload. I couldn’t string together two coherent thoughts. And I couldn’t figure out why it mattered or why I cared.
My body was completely sated. That was one of the few things I knew without a doubt. I had spent years as a geek, feeling awkward in my body and believed everyone’s opinion of myself except mine. As I lay intertwined with my best friend, I finally felt like there was some place I fit. Absolutely, completely and entirely.
At last, I came into my own. Becoming independently wealthy didn’t lead me to this discovery. Having the love of a great guy wasn’t the catalyst either. It was being accepted without reservation by a person whose life was already complicated enough without adding an alternate lifestyle into the mix.
She became my friend when it was social suicide. She became my best friend when she was ordered into solitude. And she accepted my love, my body, even though most of society, religion and politics condemned our union. I really shouldn’t be surprised. She never did listen to convention.
It just isn’t wiggy to be lying, naked, with her wrapped around me. I’m not freaked by the thought of her touching me, tasting me, taking me – however she pleases. Looking at my history, I shouldn’t be so calm. Maybe I’ve finally grown up. This just feels so right.
At last I found the strength to push myself up and kiss her lightly. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at me. So I kissed her again. I murmured my thanks as I sucked on her ear lobe. But we didn’t escalate our touches. We really needed to start the day. She had to meet Giles for practice and I would tag along and see if he had any jobs for research girl. If not, I could always work on a few of the projects I had going. Mainly I just wanted to stay near her.
She didn’t seem to mind having me with her. We weren’t overly affectionate towards each other in public. We never talked about it, just kinda agreed to it. It wasn’t that we were purposely keeping our relationship secret. We honestly didn’t know how to bring it up. Especially since I was still with Oz.
We showered, separately – we really needed to get going, and stopped for a bite to eat. Buffy and grocery shopping did not mix. Once lunch was out of the way, we headed over to Giles’s. He had nothing for me to do. From what he could tell, everything was fairly calm. In and of itself, that was kinda freaksome.
Buffy worked through some warm up exercises before taking on the heavy bag. Giles just sat in a corner mostly reading but keeping a blind eye on the Slayer’s progress. I was diligently working on a new program until Buffy found herself overheating. That resulted in her loosing the t-shirt and finishing up in a sports bra.
Giles was non-pulsed. I, on the other hand, was very pulsed. One look and my heart started working double time. I must have zoned, big time, ‘cause I didn’t hear Giles until the third call of my name. But Buffy had heard and soon they were both crouched in front of my chair, patiently peering into my eyes with more than concerned stares.
I automatically muttered something about pondering some passage in whatever book I had been reading until I remembered I was supposed to be working on a computer program. I was so busted – by Buffy anyway.
She knew where my mind had gone and blushed in sympathy – and put her shirt back on. For that I was thankful. At least I could think coherently again. Giles just looked at me as if I’d grown a third head – like the second one wasn’t strange enough.
I’ve zoned before. It’s something I’m actually quite adept at. But Giles didn’t seem to be buying that this time. His gaze moved between the two of us and he did that worried look thingy with his eyebrows. He cleared his throat and wandered back across the room to the tome he had been studying.
Buffy returned to kneel in front of me, balancing on her toes by leaning against my knees. Her thumbs moved in small circles on my legs making me forget all about Giles or code or much of anything. She quietly asked if I was Okay and promised to keep herself clothed when we were with the rest of the gang. I felt a pang of regret under all the relief.
* * * * * * *
I felt remarkably like an outsider in my own living room. I hadn’t the first idea of what I stumbled into between Buffy and Willow. If I must be completely honest, that was not entirely accurate. I had an idea and it worried me, greatly.
Conceptually, I have no difficulty with homosexuality. Same sex unions offer the participants things not readily obtained through heterosexual pairings. There is a long history of accepted sexual practices that differ from the strict, puritanical, teachings of western civilization.
But practically… it is a very cruel world and the last thing those two girls needed were more complications in their lives. They could probably handle the general population’s negative attitude towards lesbians. Their friends would be another matter. Xander, in particular. He often exhibited homophobic tendencies and attitudes. His negative reaction could cost them all beyond measure.
My main dilemma was whether to involve myself in their affairs… so to speak. Would they accept my council? Would they even need or want my support? A decision didn’t need to be made that second, so I relegated the issue to the back of my mind.
Buffy returned to the heavy bag suspended in the corner of my living room. This time she kept herself fully clothed. It didn’t take long for a dark patch to work its way down the center of her back. She would have been more comfortable – I’m sure - and would have preferred to practice without the shirt, but Willow was concentrating much better with it on, so on it stayed.
It was an extremely telling gesture. I do not think they were even cognizant of the things they did for and because of each other. I am unsure as to why I considered that interaction earlier in a sexual light. It was not out of character for either of them. They had related to each other similarly since the friendship had commenced. Why was this time different?
And wasn’t Willow with Oz? Have I been so absorbed in my blasted books that I failed to notice the conclusion of that relationship? Or did Willow have a hedonistic streak that I never noticed?
I suppose I should be elated to have normal problems for a change. Teen infidelity would be achingly normal. Oh, dear God, would you listen to me. I’m no better than Xander. As if I have nothing better to do than speculate on the love life of young people.
Buffy seems to have completed her exercises for the afternoon. I must remember to commend her for her focus and dedication. Since Willow returned to Sunnydale, Buffy has applied herself with a consistency that she has never exhibited before. She now looks to me for different ways of defeating her opponents without putting herself in as much unnecessary danger. Her attitude has changed in a fundamental way. Most interesting.
Before going off for a much-needed shower, she stopped to see why Willow had her nose buried in her computer. They spoke in tones too low for me to hear but both were smiling as Buffy wandered down to my wash room.
Willow packed up her laptop and related accessories while Buffy finished in the other room. Together they came to me to tell me they were heading out for a late lunch or an early dinner – Willow was babbling, but that was the gist. They asked me to join them, but I refused. I could not stomach the amount of grease they tended to ingest.
As they exited my apartment, Buffy yelled that they were going out to the beach house Willow had purchased after she patrolled that evening. They would be home late the following day. I wished them a good meal, doubtful; good hunting, probable; and a pleasant trip, I was not going to speculate.
* * * * * *
Dinner was awesome. One of the major perks about having a best friend that was loaded was not having to eat at fast food places or diners. Not that we went five star but most places were better than Taco Hell or Burger Barf. This was going to take no time getting used to. Willow picked a small Italian place that served an inspired lasagna and an even better cannoli.
It was nice just to sit and talk. Willow outlined the projects she had in the hopper. I thought Giles was going to flip once she got the demon database up and functional. I couldn’t see how or more precisely where she was gonna sell that one. Other than us, who would want a database of demons? Evidently there were a couple of Universities around the world that would pay good money to tap into Willow’s latest creation.
We talked about the future. Not too far into the future. I didn’t have that luxury, but still future. Willow wanted to keep working in the computer field and would start her own company. She basically already had by selling those programs. But she also wanted to continue with her magik. I had no problem with either. I would support her in whatever she wanted to do – how could I do less? She always supported me, no questions asked.
I did ask her to be careful. I didn’t want the magik to hurt her. I couldn’t protect her from that. She promised to work with Giles and anyone else he suggested. It was good enough for me.
She surprised me by asking what I wanted to do with my life – outside slaying. She knew a nine to five job would be impossible. I needed the freedom to come and go as the forces of darkness dictated. They never kept the traditional business hours.
I confided that I had an idea for a children’s book – based on my own life and the demons I fought. No, I didn’t plan on being as graphic or terrifying as my actual life, but to take the demons and make them softer and to make the slayer more of a superhero. Something along those lines. Just bring my whole life down to kindergarten level.
I was nervous saying anything about this idea, even to Willow. But she was so great. She liked the idea and wanted me to start working on it right away. I still had doubts. Even if I wrote it, could I illustrate it? What about publishing it? Would anybody buy it? What were the chances of this all actually happening?
Willow said it didn’t matter if it ever sold, it was the process that mattered. And she believed in me. How could I say no? How could I not at least try. Besides, if I pulled it off, I could contribute to my own expenses and wouldn’t need to live as a kept woman.
That was the next thing we talked about over dessert. I told her I didn’t want to be taking advantage of our friendship and constantly sponging off her new found wealth. I had accepted the house and the car and wasn’t that enough? In hindsight, I should have put up more of an argument over both at the time.
Willow just calmly explained that it was her money and she’d do with it as she damned well pleased. And if I insisted on offending her by bringing it up again… well, it just wasn’t gonna be pleasant. She had on her resolve face, the one I found so adorable, and had a real problem saying no to. So I didn’t and just said thank you when she paid the tab. I did, however, plan on thanking her in a much more personal manner once we reached the coast.
All that aside, her stubborn insistence to support me financially… well, that gave me the final kick in the ass I needed to make sure I at least attempted the book. I had two months left of the summer before classes started up again in the fall. Hopefully, I would have the majority of it completed before I had to put my nose to the grindstone again.
I couldn’t talk her into going back to our apartment, so Willow joined me for patrol. We had argued about her safety in the past and I’m sure we will argue about the same topic in the future. I know she doesn’t want me to go out alone and she knows I don’t want to be the cause of anything happening to her. So we compromised – kinda.
She came with me while I hunted the undead. As a concession to me, she outfitted herself with a Supersoaker with instructions of flight over fight. I actually liked having her along. But, I think I just prefer her around to not around – no matter the situation. Now if I could just get the time to move faster.
I wanted the duty part of my life to be over, for the rest of the night at least, so the personal part could take over. I owed my Wills some of my undivided attention.
I still had two more cemeteries to case. I needed to get to two possible newbies before they had the chance to do any damage. They couldn’t be buried in the same place. No, nothing was ever convenient for slayers. Yet, I don’t know how the others managed with just a Watcher. Especially ones that couldn’t hack into the police computer to find all those "neck" deaths.
We arrived at Sunnydale Memorial and searched for Heather McDonald’s grave. Granted, it wasn’t 100% that she would rise. Her cat may have torn out her throat and then nuzzled her mouth. We weren’t real high on that theory, so there we were, sitting on some other poor sap’s headstone waiting for the dead to live again.
Willow was recounting the latest happenings with Dingoes Ate My Baby when the ground in front of us parted and an arm emerged. In the past I would wait for my nemesis to totally rise and then we’d dance for awhile before I ended their undead life. I no longer had the patience. I hopped off my perch and yanked the vampire out of the ground. It was disoriented and I used that to my full advantage. One thrust with Mr. Pointy and a thin covering of dust joined the newly turned earth.
I held my hand out to Willow and we walked hand in hand to the car and to the next grave site. She wanted to know when I did away with my trade marked bantering. I thought for a minute before I realized it started when she got back from Boston – after we had become lovers. I no longer needed the rush of fighting. I got all the rush I could handle when I was with her. Now, I just wanted to perform my calling well enough to make it home to her. When I told her that, she cried. It was the last thing I wanted.
Thankfully, we arrived at the last cemetery in short order. Before we headed off in search of the late Jason Whitmore, I gathered Willow into my arms and apologized for making her all teary-eyed. She melted into me. I brushed away her tears and gently kissed her. She sniffed and touched my cheek and just looked into my eyes. I realized I hadn’t upset her in a bad way. So, I kissed her again.
Willow pulled away and gestured over my shoulder. Jason was already awake and looking for his first meal. He came at us planning on dinner and dessert. Needless to say I was against the idea. If anyone was going to eat Willow tonight, it sure wasn’t going to be fang boy.
I pulled Willow behind me then met Jason at a full run. I tackled him and rolled him onto his back but before I could finish him and get back to more important things I found myself on the receiving end of a right cross. For a split second I was embarrassed that Willow saw him land a punch, but the pain in my jaw snapped me back to reality.
We were both on our feet again and I went after him with a roundhouse kick then bent for a leg sweep. He was on his back again and I gripped my stake a little tighter and pounced. I swung with my left and when he brought his arms to block me, I shifted and plunged with my right. He dusted under me and I was soon sitting on nothing but damp grass.
Willow helped me to my feet, escorted me to my Mustang, liberated my keys and tucked me into the passenger seat. She got in behind the wheel before turning to examine my multi-colored chin. Her touch was light and it soothed me completely.
She shook her head and gave me that lopsided grin. I had closed my eyes to absorb the emotion running through me. When I next realized what was happening, we were already on our way to the beach house. Willow’s hand was resting on my leg. I covered it with my own and figured I’d get a short nap. I had big plans for that night.
* * * * * *
I pulled up the drive and parked the car. A small squeeze to the thigh under my fingers brought Buffy out of snooze mode. I hoped she wasn’t out for the night. I had always been edgy after going on rounds with her but until tonight never realized seeing her fight turned me on. When Oz was around I just figured it was him. No wonder he liked it when I accompanied Buffy.
Buffy grabbed our bag out of the trunk and met me in the living room. I had flipped on the deck lights and went out to look over the supplies the construction company had left. A couple of days and the hot tub would be functional. I couldn’t believe I overlooked that. Good thing I have Buffy to make sure all the creature comforts are accounted for.
As I stood at the rail watching the waves lap the sand, she came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist and nibbled on my neck. Oh, how I loved this position. I had such wonderful memories of being on this very deck but with our positions reversed. It had all started here, like this.
I leaned back into her, confident her strength would keep us both upright. She worked my shirt out of the waistband of my jeans and rubbed her hands over my stomach. I think she just needed to feel skin. She didn’t move to elevate the touches into anything more serious. I took her right hand and brought it to my lips in order to drop little kisses along her palm and wrist.
Suddenly, my world swirled violently and I found myself being cradled in strong arms. I couldn't find a good reason to protest. I put my arms around her neck and nibbled on a nearby ear while she carried me to our bedroom.
Good thing the bed had good springs. I was unceremoniously tossed into the center, then pounced upon by a ravenous Slayer. I guess the nap did her a world of good – she had energy to spare and planned on expending it on me. Luck me. Nope, no complaining here. I was about to become a very happy hacker.
I’m glad I wasn’t overly attached to my shirt. Buffy and buttons did not work and play well together on that night. They went flying in all directions, we never did find one of them. I was a little more upset over the demise of my bra. I had liked that bra. It was lacy and a nifty shade of pink. Not a wussy pastel but not that day-glo pink either. I hoped I could find a new one like it.
All thoughts about the state of my clothing were quickly forgotten when Buffy attached herself to my left nipple and did a damn good impersonation of an Orek. And I’m talkin’ the super duper hotel model. I'm not sure how suction is measured, but… Oh, God! I did the only thing I was capable of – I arched and moaned. Or maybe I moaned and arched – it was all a little fuzzy. The important part was, I needed to have more of me in contact with more of her. Preferably naked.
She must have read my mind. I was still a little hazy and didn’t even feel her leave my breasts. The next thing I knew, a very naked Slayer was pulling my jeans off by the ankles. Luckily she didn’t rip those. I hadn’t packed another pair. I didn’t want to have to think about having to explain to the nice officer why I wasn’t wearing any pants.
I came back into myself when Buffy lowered herself towards me. She was barely touching me – holding herself up with her fore arms and knees. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to cover me fully. She tried to roll off, afraid to be too much weight for me to handle. I would have none of that. I loved the feel of her, the solidness – it felt very safe, not suffocating.
She smiled and went back to her feast. The muscles in her back moved under my hands as I massaged slowly. She purred into my chest. It was a oddly pleasant sensation.
I grew restless with the slow pace Buffy set for this encounter. I think I surprised her when I managed to roll us over and sat on top of her. She allowed me to fondle and pinch her nipples for a moment before reversing our positions once again.
She mentioned something about needing to tip me, I didn’t quite catch the whole thing since she ignored my aching nipples to play in the wetness between my thighs. There was no rhyme or reason to what she was doing down there. Then she left my warm center all together. She painted both nipples then returned her mouth to them and her hand to my more acute need.
If she was trying to make me crazy she was succeeding in spades, diamonds, yellow stars and green clovers. My hips took on a life of their own trying to force her into a more committed contact. I grabbed her wrist and tried to force the issue. Dumb move. She was too strong to force so I resorted to the only method left to me.
I begged. I whimpered. I pleaded.
I was denied.
The phrase "over stimulation" kept running through my mind. Her fingers traveled slowly up and down the length of my crease, avoiding my clit. One touch. It would have only taken one touch. If I died before cresting this summit, I’d…. I’d… I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but it’d be a doozy.
Finally, she entered me. Three fingers, four on the next stroke. I was in orbit. Houston, we have lift off! No problem here…
I was off for round two when she pressed her thumb against my swollen bundle of nerves, which she had been studiously ignoring. I think I yelled her name. I yelled something. She was smiling, I’ll assume it was her name.
I wanted so much to thank her. To tell her how wonderful she had been. All I could do was give her a weak smile and try to breathe. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I could feel the pounding of blood in the most amazing places.
She seemed pleased with herself. I couldn’t begrudge her that. I could spend hours trying to find all the adjectives to describe what she did to me. I was a very happy hacker as I found the strength to pull her down for a kiss. When it ended, she rested her head against my chest and wrapped herself around me. I remembered playing with her hair before I drifted off to sleep.
* * * * * * *
I had a shit-eating grin plastered on my face when I woke up the next morning. I may have been new to this whole female love thing, but I was a quick study. Now if I could just convince UC Sunnydale to let me set an independent major in Willow – hell, I’d graduate Summa Cum Loudly.
I think I should be shot for that last comment. Bad puns. Must be from hanging around Xander so much. No matter. I was still quite proud of myself. Willow continued to doze underneath me. It was the first time I had worn her out. Considering I had super-human strength and stamina, she often sent me to dreamland without even breaking a sweat herself. It was gladness to finally be able to return the favor.
A shower was definitely in order. The musky smell of last night’s activities clung to me like a favorite shirt. I grabbed my robe out of the closet and headed for the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and emptied my bladder before ducking under the spray of hot water.
I had soaped my body and my hair and was preparing to drag a razor through the jungle that was my left leg when a sleep mussed Willow entered the shower. She smiled and kissed me deeply, passionately. She fought for control of my mouth. She won.
We kissed under the pounding spray for long minutes. She thanked me for the previous night while examining the clear skin of my chin. My healing abilities amazed her and I think made it easier to see me battered and bruised knowing they wouldn’t last long.
She took the razor from me and sat me down on the side of the tub before motioning for a leg. I gave her my right one. She rested my foot against her stomach before squirting some gel the length of my shin and proceeding to lather up the entire calf. This was definitely new. No one had ever shaved my legs but me. It was highly erotic watching her carefully run the blade over my flesh.
She finished my lower leg and moved to continue with the upper portion. The lathering was maddening. I wasn’t sure if she was purposely trying to turn me on, but that was the effect. I held still as she shaved the leg clean. Just knowing how she was going to touch me made it more difficult to sit still when she moved to work on my other leg.
It felt like she was touching me for hours. I’m sure it was nowhere near that long. I had closed my eyes in hopes of controlling my reaction to having her hands so close to my center. I guess she wasn’t as stimulating as I thought because she woke me up after she completed her own shower.
I went to towel her off but was brushed aside. She thanked me for being so wonderfully attentive – her words – but, now she had the need to feel me. Who was I to argue?
I was dried off, then moisturized – head to toe – she massaged my limbs and torso with a single mindedness few people could manage. She had to be aware of the affect she was having on me. I could smell my arousal and felt it trickle down my thigh. One look into her eyes and I knew I was in trouble. She had this wicked little glint and I tried to prepare myself. Who knew what she would ask of me?
She laughed when I shuddered. Willow could be evil in the most wonderful ways. She said she had been keeping track. Since she got back it was Willow 3 – Buffy 0. She planned on evening the score – starting now – and she wasn’t going to stop until we were tied. I asked if she would notify my next of kin when she was finished.
She pulled me back into the bedroom and pushed me, face first, onto the bed. I felt her straddle my thighs then bend down to nip at the back of my neck. It was a different position but incredibly enjoyable. She stretched our arms out, and squeezed my fingers before instructing me to keep my hands where she was leaving them – no matter what. I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out what would happen if I disobeyed.
Her lips traveled over my neck and shoulders and I could feel her wet sex move rhythmically against my ass. Different was good. I could do different. She continued like this for some time. Soothing and stimulating me at the same time. Half of me wanted to curl up into her arms and forget about everything but her. The other half wanted to escalate this to the stars. It was maddening. I assumed this was her intention.
She moved her lower half off of me, never ending the sucking on my shoulder blade. Who’d have guessed that was an erogenous zone? She tapped my inner thigh signaling that she wanted access to my sex. Cool for me. I complied eagerly.
She worked a couple of fingers between the lips of my labia. She hummed her appreciation at the moisture she found there. My hips moved against her hand as she attacked my ear lobe. My attention was so absorbed with her lips, it took a moment for me to realize she was circling gently against my asshole.
I freaked. It was that simple. I swatted her hand and rolled out from under her, sitting up suddenly. I was shaking. Saying that she surprised me would be an understatement of monumental proportions. I had never… well, even considered being touched where the sun don’t shine.
She crawled in front of me and took my hands in hers, bringing them to her lips. She apologized for making me uncomfortable – for doing something I was so evidently against. My breathing settled down and I could think clearly again. I confessed she had startled me.
Willow explained she just wanted to do something different, something she enjoyed and hoped we could share, but promised she’d never try it again. We sat cross-legged on the bed facing each other holding hands. I wondered if she didn’t find it a bit, well, gross. I couldn’t guarantee what she would find there.
She said after morning rituals it was usually a pretty safe bet. Besides, she wasn’t going to try to reach my spleen. I wasn’t sure exactly where my spleen was but I took solace in that fact. I had to admit, once I got over the initial shock, it was an intriguing idea. Were we really that sensitive there? Would it be pleasurable? I knew with all that I was Willow would never do anything to hurt me – besides, I was used to pain.
Willow was infinitely patient, answering my questions with her straightforward manner – while not pushing the issue. She was going to let me make up my own mind. I loved her all the more for it.
I hadn’t made up my mind about this new area to possibly explore, but I felt this whole thing brought us closer together. It had ruined the heat we had generated from before, during and after the shower but if we could talk honestly about something like this… what could life throw at us that we couldn’t work through?
We both felt some deeper connection when my stomach ended the conversation by making itself known. We both chuckled and got off the bed, collected our robes and headed for the kitchen.
As we made breakfast, we kept mentioning how grateful we each were for the other’s understanding. It got quite nauseating and we agreed to just let it drop for the time being. We prepared the rest of our meal in silence. Actually, Willow prepared, I handed her whatever she requested. I made a damn fine scrub nurse to her surgeon.
She put on a pot of coffee before whipping up some eggs. I poured some juice and was allowed to make the toast. When everything was complete we took it to the living room and flipped on the tube. There was less than nothing on in the middle of the day. I don’t know why we were surprised. There was nothing on in prime time either.
We ditched TV altogether, threw on some clothes and wandered down to the beach. The sun was warm as we made our way to the surf. The water was still cool, it being only June. It would have to jump another 15-20 degrees before I would want to venture in. I know, the mighty Slayer was a wuss.
* * * * * * *
We had weathered a major, major, stumbling block. Who knew the shy, reserved, hacker would have a more diverse sexual arsenal than the cool, outgoing, Slayer? I think we both learned an important lesson about projecting our experiences onto others. God, I sound like my mother. What next? Hug therapy? Well, that ain’t exactly a bad idea…
Buffy had decided to get in some exercise since our morning calisthenics were cut short. She was sprinting down the beach, full out. She got about 200 yards out then turned and came back towards me, passing me and going about the same distance in the other direction. I continued to wander toward a washed up log out by the point.
By the time I reached my target, Buffy had lapped me several times. She collapsed by my side breathing heavily. Her hair and tank were drenched in sweat and she was flushed the most attractive shade of pink. I smiled, remembering the times I had put her in such a state.
She asked if I’d mind if she took off her shirt. I was touched by the question but assured her I wouldn’t mind. Who was around to care if I sat there ogling her? She tossed the shirt over the far end of the log then I pulled her down to recline in my lap. She refused claiming she stunk but I managed to convince her the smell of her sweat was anything but revolting.
Buffy put her head on my thigh and played with the fingers of my right hand. She seemed fascinated by the tendons and joints as if she was trying to commit every juncture to memory. Maybe she was. I knew I never tired of learning a different part of her body.
While she played with my fingers, I played with her hair, smoothing it back, enjoyinh the soft texture. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed smoochies. Buffy smoochies. I covered her lips with my own, teasing her with my tongue. She most certainly didn’t mind this new activity.
We explored each other slowly, our tongues dueling, aggressive one moment, passive the next. She released my fingers to latch onto my neck. If she was worried about me going anywhere, she needn’t bother. Nothing short of that week’s apocalypse was going to remove me from her.
Since the kissing thing was going so well I decided to add the groping thing. My free hand went to her sports bra clad breast and began massaging it. Groping was evidently a good thing. Buffy moaned her enjoyment into my mouth. If cloth covered was good then naked had to be better. Right? Right.
I wondered if she had planned this when she dressed. This bra had a zipper running down the center, cinching it closed. Stylish and convenient. Not one to waste a happy accident, I utilized said zipper and freed her breasts from their confinement. This elicited another moan. Naked was definitely better.
I rolled a nipple between my fingers amazed at how fast it hardened. Buffy had picked up a three-word mantra: God, Willow and yes. Not necessarily in that order and in varying volume levels. I alternated between her breasts, not wanting either to feel neglected. Finally, I could stand it no longer. I needed to taste them.
The Slayer put up no fight when I lowered her completely to the sand and moved partially on top of her. I licked, sucked and nibbled each breast, ignoring the erect peaks. Her mantra became less coherent, but louder.
When I began mouthing the nipples, I worked my hand inside the waist of her shorts. She had anticipated this little rendezvous. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Naughty Slayer. If I was into spanking, this would have been the perfect opportunity for it.
She grinned at my surprise. We both giggled for a moment but she stopped abruptly when I brushed over her clit. She was calling to God again. I briefly considered I wasn’t getting my proper due in all this, but quickly ignored myself. I had more important things to be doing.
As I circled her pleasure center, I worked my way up her chest, nipping and sucking on her neck. I got a little over-zealous at one point. She’d be wearing my mark for hours – she healed pretty fast. That thought really turned me on. I liked the thought that she belonged to me.
Her hips were helping me keep a steady beat. She wanted more, that much was perfectly clear. I kissed my way to her ear and never slowing the movement of my hand, told her in explicit detail how long I was going to make her wait for release and what I was going to be doing to her to tease her into a frenzy.
She was close. My fingers were covered in her passion. Her breathing was shallow and labored. Her sex was enflamed. Over the course of the past day and a half she had gotten me off three times, and to my knowledge, never came herself.
I confused her by making her think. As I made small circles around her sensitive flesh, I asked her what she wanted me to do to make her come. She said she didn’t care, just please put her over. I was a real bitch, I made her make a decision she was in no condition to make. Speech was a luxury and thought was impossible. Her coordination, however was superb.
One hand tangled in my hair and brought my lips to hers in a crushing kiss. The other grabbed the wrist near her sex and forced two of my fingers deep inside herself. She released my mouth and screamed as I entered her. I could barely keep up with the speed of her thrusts. I returned to her breast and bit her nipple.
My name… she screamed my name as she came. I don’t think I will ever get tired of hearing her do that. My fingers were tightly clamped between her thighs and by her inner muscles. I flexed my fingers and felt another spasm. So I did it again. I hadn’t planned it, but I made her climax again just by nudging her g-spot.
She told me I was evil for being such a tease. I just reminded her paybacks were a bitch, but wasn’t it worth it? The lazy grin plastered across her face told me it was. I kissed her again as I zipped her back into her bra. Her nipple stood out from the cotton. The sight made my mouth water.
Buffy complained when I pulled her to her feet and turned her in the direction of the house. She was whining. She was liking the sun and she was liking the sand, she wanted to stay. I reminded her I still had one, possibly two, orgasms to give yet - depending how you counted - and was pretty sure she didn’t want sand in some rather sensitive areas.
She was freshly showered and naked on our bed when I arrived back in our room.
* * * * * * *
I was naked on our bed when she entered our room. I was resting on one hip, a leg slightly bent, giving my best come hither stare. She ignored me. This wasn’t going at all to plan.
She smirked in my direction but entered the bathroom without looking back. I heard the lock click into place. Guess I know where I’m not wanted. I considered just dressing and playing another round of clicker-vision. It was short lived. We had already determined there was less than nothing on. Besides the bed was a comfortable place to wait on the off chance I’d get lucky.
Willow had the same idea I did – get the sand off. I couldn’t figure out why nudists like the beach so much. Do they have some secret way of keeping the sand from getting everywhere? I wasn’t even completely naked and I found sand in places I didn’t even know I had.
I had propped myself against the headboard and was sitting with my knees drawn up but spread and had my chin resting on them. I wasn’t trying to be sexy or alluring. It was comfortable and allowed me to keep an eye on the bathroom door.
She laughed when she saw me and wanted to know who taught me how to sit like a lady. Being in an admittedly weird mood, I shrugged then flung my limbs out spread-eagle and waited for Willow to make the next move.
She laughed again – I’m glad I’m so amusing. She crawled up onto the bed and wiggled into my side and planted little kisses over my face and neck before claiming my lips. Oh, she was worth the wait…
We continued to kiss leisurely, exploring each other as if this was new. We were in no rush to elevate our actions, although I did feel her nipples crinkle and tighten and poke into my side. It was a neat feeling. She sighed and nuzzled my neck. If we did nothing else, it would have been a great afternoon.
I needed to buy a thesaurus. I was having problems expressing all the different things Willow did to me – and how it made me feel. I couldn’t help but think it was, at least in part, because we were both women. She just knew how my body would respond. Or maybe it was because we were such good friends before we became lovers.
I didn’t feel like I had anything to prove when I was in her arms. It wasn’t that she didn’t care that I was the Slayer and that I had this screwy destiny – but when she’s loving me – she wanted me in spite of it, not because of it. She understood the Slayer, but liked the woman. I was getting way too deep and real for just having been thoroughly fucked.
Oh, yes… Willow was nothing if not thorough.
She used her fingers, lips and teeth on my nipples. She licked, sucked and nipped at my lips, my neck, my ear. She planted soft kisses down my sternum, inside my elbow, across my ribs. She was slow and maddening and stimulating and absolute. She might have been working for a minute or an hour, time had no meaning for me.
She made me feel like her complete world as she loved me. Like there was no higher purpose in her life than to give me pleasure. If I ever get outa this haze… I owe her a couple. She made me come… I couldn’t tell you how many times; so hard, so good – it was no wonder I couldn’t focus.
She mouthed my nipples until they were raw before moving steadily south. She wasted no time finding my pleasure center. She licked and sucked in an erratic dance. She lifted me right to the edge and then… stopped. I lost count of the number of times. As her tongue brought me higher again, she entered me gently – like she could sneak her fingers into my channel.
If it was physically possible, I was more aroused than I had been on the beach. I was equally as speechless, that was for sure. Thankfully, she didn’t ask me any questions. This time. She just took my moaning and occasional muttering of her name, or God’s, as a matter of course and continued her assault on my clit and the slow, full strokes of her fingers.
My first climax was intense. I would have been perfectly happy to catch my breath, curl around Willow and take a nap. After all, I was going to have to patrol later on. But she wasn’t done with me. She wasn’t even slowing down. My inner muscles were still spasming, yet she didn’t stop the trusting. This time, she made sure she hit my g-spot on each and every stroke. I was off again. I could barely breathe.
That’s when it got all out of focus. Number two hadn’t completely ended when she reattached herself to my clit. I have no real memory if she stopped after my third or if she kept going. I’ll have to ask her, if only to see what my body is capable of. When Giles told me to push myself past my preconceived limits, I doubt this was what he had in mind.
When coherent thought was mine again, I was safe in her arms. My cheek was resting on a firm breast, her heart beating solidly under my ear. I had no desire to move even though I knew we had to get back to Sunnydale. I had to patrol. She would come with me.
She squeezed me tighter when she felt me stir. I returned the hug and lightly kissed her lips. I wanted to say thank you, but it seemed wholly inadequate. Her eyes told me she understood. We took yet another shower, managing to stick to business instead of play.
We stood out on the deck watching the tide, feeling peaceful and grateful for the time we had spent together. Willow wanted to have the whole gang out here for the 4th. Sounded like a plan to me. I would drag Giles myself if he put up a stink. Although seeing him in swim trunks… Uhhh, don’t go there, Buffy.