Shopping With A Demon
by Jerri and Robin2
Anya dragged Xander behind her ignoring his vehement protests. "I
don't need a tuxedo. Why can't I just wear nice clothes?"
Anya paused to glare at him. "Because you don't own any. Now come on."
"But Anya," he whined, "I really don't see that I can afford this.
Let's weigh the facts here." He held up two hands in imitation of a
scale. "This month's rent," his right hand sank to his knees and
took his entire right side with it. His left arm
floated in the air as if it were attached to a helium balloon. "New clothes."
She rolled her eyes and gave his hand another tug. "Xander, I
invested for you while I was making my money. And because I've got
business savvy I got us out before the market crashed. You've lots
of money to spend on me. Now come on."
Xander sighed in resignation. Once his woman got an idea in her head
nothing, but nothing would sway her. He pulled open the sparkling
glass door and stood back as Anya swept into the swanky designer
shop. He couldn't help but notice how her silk dress clung to her
shapely bottom as she passed him. Membership to the Anya Club of Luv
definitely had its privileges.
Anya rewarded his gallantry with a bright smile and then a tug on the
hand. "Now shut up and let's find you a tuxedo. I have some friends
in the Bolshoi, and I want to see them dance, and I want to look good
when I do. And I refuse to be embarrassed by the way you look."
Anya pulled Xander into the shop hellbent on classying him up for the
Bolshoi. The bell sounded their arrival and a small well-dressed man
in the back of the shop looked up from his current customer. Xander
faltered a smile and raised his hand in a quick wave. He stopped
short at the arched brow he received in return and grabbed Anya's
elbow. "Maybe we should go somewhere else," he suggested. "I think
Mom might have one of Uncle Rory's suits in the closet."
Anya wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Don't be ludicrous." She
snagged a tux from the rack and held it up. "Go try this on."
Xander considered himself strictly a bargain rack, if it covers my
ass it's good enough for me kinda guy. He wasn't a tux type of
person. He groaned inwardly as Anya forced a dark suit into his
hands and turned him toward the fitting room. But he had to play
along or risk her wrath. Even as an un-demon her wrath was still pretty scary.
Minutes later Xander stepped from behind the curtain and stood
uncertainly and uncomfortably ready for inspection. He shifted on
his feet as Anya put her elbow in her palm and rubbed her chin.
After the third twirl she shook her head and handed him another
tuxedo. Xander slumped his shoulders and started back to the
dressing room. This was only the beginning of the torture he
realized. He still had the ballet to sit through. Was it wrong for
a grown man to sob?
When he once again exited the fitting room he found Anya with her
arms crossed and a firm glare etched into her already stern
features. A quick glance to her right told him all he needed to
know. The sales associate who had been too busy with another client
raised his alternate brow at Xander. His faux cultured voice slid
over Xander's ears. Xander winced. "Prom season already?"
Xander cowed slightly. What was it with guys who insisted on weekly
haircuts, anyway? "My girlfriend insists that I need a really good tux."
"That is a five hundred dollar Georgio Armani tux, sir," the little
man sniffed. "Have you tried Sears?"
Anya rolled her eyes and stepped into the man's personal space "I
find your attitude annoying and offensive," she
said. "But my Xander needs to look good and this is the only shop in
Sunnydale that carries what I saw in Cosmo. Unfortunately."
She returned her obsessive attention to Xander and twirled her finger
in the air. Xander sighed. "Again with the emasculation?"
"Just let me see your butt," Anya directed. Her tone left no room
for argument. Xander flipped up the tails of the jacket and turned
for inspection. "He'll need to have this taken in at the waist,
loosened at the shoulders, and the pants need a
sharper cuff," she said briskly. "Also, we want the buttons reinforced."
"Again, Madam� this is a five hundred dollar suit. Perhaps you
should try something at the mall."
Xander looked over his shoulder and Anya raised a single brow. "You
are a rude little man."
"I'll get the tailor," the associate said and hurried off.
Xander grinned and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. "What?"
she asked obviously annoyed that her attention was drawn away from his butt.
"I love it when you do that," he said with a simple
shrug. "Especially when it's not directed at me," he amended quickly.
"Do what?' Anya asked.
"That thing you do when you take charge and let people know exactly
where they stand," he explained and took a step closer. "It gets me
hot." He lowered his head and stole a quick kiss. "I love my take
charge gal," he whispered into Anya's smile.
"Hey, I am 1100 years old, I did learn some things. Besides, seeing
you in that suit? That gets me hot."
He waggled his eyebrows and copped a JC Penney catalog pose, one hand
on his knee, the other on his waist and
his foot raised on the nearest manequin's base. Anya's hazel eyes
gleamed in appreciation and she stepped away from the mirror.
Wait, Xander thought. Maybe he was a tux guy. He stood straighter
and adjusted his cuffs. "I'm Harris. Xander Harris. At your service."
Anya looked up and said simply, "Of course you're at my service."
Then she frowned. "And I already know who you are. Why are you
trying to sound like Giles? You're really not very good at it."
Xander mumbled something under his breath. She shot a look at him
and uttered the heretical words that he dreaded hearing, "Who is James Bond?"
"It doesn't matter," he said and took another admiring glance in the
mirror. "The point is, I'll look da-hamn good in this monkey suit."
"Monkey suit?" Anya repeated, her brow furrowed. She crossed her
arms over her chest and cocked her head to
the side. "I don't understand, Xander. We're here to buy you a
suit to make me look good and you're referencing
fictional characters and zoo animals."
"An, hon. James Bond is this ultra-sexy super hip slayer of evil
Russians before we liked them kinda guy," he explained. She hated
not being in on the joke. "Sean Connery was the best."
Anya's smile brightened the room and she bounced a little on her
toes. "Sean Connery," she repeated then bit her lip. Her
eyes sparkled. "He's sexy. Sometimes I imagine you growing old and
feeble as well as he has."
Xander smirked. Then indicated the dressing room with a toss of his
head. "Want to be my Octopushy?" he asked in his worst Bond imitation.
"I don't know what that is," she frowned. "And you're speech is
funny again." Suddenly her entire demeanor brightened.
"Are you roll playing?" she asked.
Xander started to nod then stopped. "No," he backpedaled. "I was
definitely NOT doing that."
"Cause roll playing's fun. I could be the goat herd girl and you can
be that old guy who still looks sexy and talks with a speech impediment."
She grabbed his hand and started toward the fitting room.
"Oh, no, An, I was kidding," he protested and tried to resist her
pull. "Every time we do something like this we get caught."
Anya's pit bull hold didn't lessen. "You have no sense of
adventure," she chided and gave his arm another jerk that nearly sent
him head first into a partially clothed and obviously castrated
mannequin. "Now, come on." Her next tug took Xander off his feet.
He tumbled into the stall next to her and the slatted door slammed
closed behind them. She looked at him, smiling like a greedy little
girl who saw sweets in her immediate future "Take off the tuxedo,
Xander. We wouldn't want to damage it."
Her pink tongue licked her lips as she watched him slowly unbutton
the silk shirt. He pulled the tail of the gleaming white shirt from
the black cummerbund. Begrudgingly getting into the moment he teased
her with a smile then turned his back as he removed the shirt and
jacket at the same time. Xander jumped slightly when he felt
Anya's warm hands at his back as she helped him remove the silk
cummerbund. He caught it before it could fall to the floor and laid
it over the table with the rest of the suit. Her hands snaked around
from behind him and unfastened the trousers. He quickly removed them then
spun to face her wearing the latest in a series of decorated boxers.
Anya dropped to her knees then fell back to her heels. "Xander, why
do you have a strange woman's face on your penis?"
Startled Xander looked down at his boxers. The pair he'd chosen this
morning were emblazoned with, oh
crap, Seven of Nine. The beautiful Borg blond covered the front of
his dark blue boxers and right now her nose bulged with his� bulge.
"Star Trek, hon," he managed. His cock twitched eagerly. He looked
at his demon lover and couldn't resist. "Would you like to go
where no man has gone before?"
Anya stared up into his face with a quizzical expression. "Well,
silly, I know no man has gone there before. But if you're asking if
I would perform oral sex, then yes, I would."
Xander sucked in his breath in anticipation as she lowered her lips
until they hovered just above his straining penis. She paused, her
hand around the base of his shaft. "If I give you oral sex, will it
look like I am kissing that woman?"
Xander uttered a groan and quirked his brow at the visual. "Yes.
Let's go with that," he suggested.
Anya nodded then busied her small and quick hands as she released him
from his confinement so that her mouth could get even busier.
Xander choked back an amused snort as his cock bobbed where Seven Of
Nine's nose had been. But the laugh was
quickly replaced as a groan as Anya engulfed him in her wet hot
mouth. "Engage," he said quietly in his best Jean-Luc Piccard accent.
Her tongue flicked the tiny hole in the tip of his erection as her
tiny hands moved to cup his heavy sac. She pulled her head away and
traced the veins along the sensitive underside of his throbbing
cock. He gasped as he felt tremors running through his entire body.
It all seemed to be connected to Anya's talented tongue.
Xander groaned as sensations raced through him. God, she was so
goood. His blunt nails bit into his palms as he restrained
himself from thrusting deeper into her throat. He moaned and knotted
his fingers in her silken blonde/red/brown curls she'd so carefully
mussed that very morning.
She pulled back just enough to let the cool air tease him and then
lunged back down. As Anya's hot cavern of a mouth engulfed his
throbbing cock Xander's mind again went askew. The ex-demon
skillfully stroked his perineum and
swirled her tongue around his cock. Xander was certain he'd died and
received his heavenly reward when Anya relaxed her muscles and
managed to take his entire length into her throat.
Xander groaned and looked down as her throat muscles relaxed and
tightened rhythmically in effect milking
him. Suddenly a new buzzing sensation sent another jolt through him
and he struggled not to unload. Oh, God� was she humming?
"I..ah..love..oh yeah..it when you talk with your mouth full."
In response, the blonde did something intricate with her tongue and
teeth. Xander lost the power of speech
altogether and slammed his hand against the wall for support as his
entire body stiffened. He bit his tongue as he tried to keep his
orgasm at a we are nearly in public level of quiet.
Sensing his release Anya squealed and sucked and licked harder. Her
own moans filled the booth.
Finally, he slumped against the wall while his ravenous ex-demon
swallowed all he had to give her and tried to get more. She bathed
his groin with her tongue, being careful to leave no evidence behind.
Xander gasped for oxygen and pulled his fingers through her hair and
then when his sensitized cock could stand no more attention he eased
her away. He looked down at her giggle then burst out with a laugh
of his own. Seven of Nine now wore a Jimmy Durante nose.
"Now," Anya said as she shook her head and readjusted her dress, "get
that primate suit back on. The obnoxious little man has to have
found the tailor by now."
Xander saluted her then tucked his flaccid cock away. "Yes, ma'am."
Minutes later still giggling and euphoric that for once they'd gotten
away with it they exited the dressing room. Their smiles faded as
they came face to face with the salesman. Next to him stood the
tailor who looked like a fullback. Automatically
Xander dropped his head. Anya rolled her eyes. Busted. Again.
Xander prepared himself for the inevitable and wondered how exactly
he was going to explain this to his mother and if she'd be able to make bail.
The tailor cleared his throat and then his voice boomed loudly across
the shop. "9.8. You lose style points for the noise."
"5.9," the salesman countered, then grinned.
The End
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