TITLE: Bedknobs and ....1/4
AUTHOR: Second Slayer
E-MAIL ADDRESS: secondslayer@panatropic.net
SPOILER WARNING: Generic season 6, which I've not seen much of, so if I
get it wrong, it ain't my fault.
Blame Tele-gone-west.
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: B/G.
DISTRIBUTION: In the unlikely event that you want it, ask.
DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Joss, the WB, UPN, Fox,
Mutant Enemy and anybody else who feels they own it.
SUMMARY: To sleep, perchance to dream.
FEEDBACK: Go on then.
THANKS: Everyone. I'm tired, and a bit bored, so he's a repost of sommat
I wrote a while ago and posted to some other lists.
Buffy awoke peacefully. She opened her eyes to discover it was dark. A glowing clock which seemed to be floating in the darkness informed her it was 5am. She closed her eyes again, turned onto her side and snuggled down, drifted back into a contented doze. She'd gone to bed early, intending to get up and patrol, but right now all that was forgotten. The bed was comfortable, more comfortable than any she'd ever been in. She was warm, the duvet not too heavy, and - something she was barely aware of - things smelt right. It wasn't her smell, it was a spicy, masculine smell, but it was familiar, safe. She knew this wasn't her room, but it didn't matter. This felt right, it felt safe, it felt so much like heaven. She knew something, for now, a secret known by dedicated slackers, and people who don't believe Sunday exists before 1pm. This bed loved her.
She knew she would have to go back to her own life soon, but the part of the human brain which can control the speech centres of a sleeping person enough to say 'just five more minutes' was quite firmly in control, and shushing the more rational parts.
She knew, too, that she was not alone. Had she been awake she would have known from the almost imperceptible tilt to the right in the mattress, the sound of breathing, the occasional shudders as the bed moved. As it was, she just knew.
Her reaction as the other body moved towards hers, as it slid it's arm under her pillow and curled around her, was to tip her head backwards, rub her cheek into the pillow, and make an almost cat-like noise of contentment. She rubbed her back against the broad, masculine chest, delighted by the heat of it. Hairy legs tickled the backs of her thighs, and their bodies moulded together. A large hand slid first along her thigh, then back up, across her stomach, to rest at her left breast. Her mouth opened and she pulled in a deep, satisfied breath as the hand gently teased her nipple. It was almost as though she was being touched by something supernatural, aware not of the touch, simply of the pleasure. The touch continued for several minutes, changing tactics occasionally, flicking or squeezing the nipple, stroking the whole breast, but always there, always exactly what she wanted, always sending shocks of pleasure through her whole body.
She felt herself beginning to moisten, to open, was aware of the occasional delicious twitch caused by this nipple manipulation expert. He let his hand fall to her right breast, and began again. She stretched her legs out straight, pushing her butt back as she did so. She felt hair against her hyper-sensitive cheeks, felt the soft penis against her thigh. She murmured and the body pressed close, the flesh hardening and expanding against her. Her neck was nibbled lightly, and she tucked a folded section of duvet between her knees, holding her thighs slightly apart.
The hand left her breast, swept again over her stomach, to her thighs, this time the gentlest of touches dancing up and down her inner thigh, making her whimper, try to press against the partial erection behind her. The fingers took the hint, and she groaned as they stroked her labia, before disappearing altogether. She made a childish, discontented noise and then gasped as one slick finger slid across her clitoris, began to rub gently.
She could feel her own wetness, desperately wanted to be touched, filled. The penis began to rub gently against the very back of her entrance and she pushed back, ground her hips as hard as she could, but it didn't enter. Moistened with her fluids, it slid slowly forwards, until the body behind was as close to her as it could get, the shaft rubbing gently against her parted thighs. She reached down to stroke the protruding head, to try to pull it up against her clitoris. Her thoughts weren't rational, consisted mostly of the words 'big', 'hard', 'in me' and 'now' repeated over and over in varying order.
The body shifted down, adjusted it's angle to rub her where she wanted. Her whimpering got louder, and the body moved faster - she wasn't thinking of it as a man, it was just a source of pleasure. She was moving her hips too, rubbing herself as hard as she could against the shaft. She stopped, shuddering and squeezing the shaft between her thighs, her voice gone as she reached her orgasm. She didn't protest as she was moved, laid on her front, hips supported with a pillow.
A quick noise of surprise escaped her as a finger gently probed her, and then she felt the knees between her own, nudging her legs further apart, a hand to her side, supporting the body. She raised her hips to him eagerly and he positioned himself. She shuddered with anticipation as his other hand joined the first, then oh so slowly he pushed into her, finally giving her what she needed.
She had kept her eyes tight shut the whole time, there being nothing to see in heaven. She hardly moved as he thrust against her, and all her sounds were incoherent. She grasped at the sheets, held onto the ornate metal bed frame to give her something to push against, to get him as deep as possible. She wanted to say 'harder, deeper, oh god please, this is so good HARDER,' but what actually came out was closer to 'hnnnnnnN!' repeated several times, her pitch and volume increasing, until she raised her head up, curling her back, every muscle in her body trying to contribute to squeezing, pulling him in, consuming him. He grunted as the pressure made him come, gave a few more gentle thrusts as they both relaxed.
Buffy stretched, curled her toes, pulled the duvet around herself, and went back to sleep, murmuring occasionally at his gentle caressing of her back.