******************************
"Boy, you weren't kidding when you said you were
hard to get up
in the morning," she said, smiling down at him.
"You misunderstood," he replied, his voice
slurred with sleep. "I
said I'm hard AND up in the morning. Want to
feel?"
She retrieved her hand before he could lead it
under the sheets. "Love
to. Can't. Got to go to work."
Spike pried his eyelids open. Grey morning
sunlight filtered in through
the window. "What time is it?"
"Nearly 7:30," Buffy said, leaning over to slip
her shoes on. "You
don't have to get up yet. I put clean towels in the
bathroom and
I set up the coffee maker. There's cereal and eggs. Help
yourself to
anything you want."
"I want YOU," he muttered, trying to make a grab
for her. "You smell
good."
"Showers will do that for a person." She stood
in front of her vanity
mirror and slipped her small gold hoops into the tiny
holes in her
earlobes. Her hair was neatly braided, and she took one last
look in the
mirror to check her appearance.
"I have to go now," she said, leaning over to
kiss him goodbye. "Much
as I'd love nothing better than to spend the day here
in bed with you."
His expression had a definite element of 'pout'
to it, but she steeled
herself against it and slipped away before he could
tighten his hold
on her.
"Hey!" he complained. Sitting up in bed, the
covers pooled around
his waist, he looked at her plaintively. "Aren't you
forgetting something?"
She thought it over for a moment. "I don't think
so."
"Well!" he grumbled, folding his arms across his
chest. "That's just
fine. Go ahead and leave without telling me you love me.
See if I care."
Buffy leaned against the door jamb. "Spike?" she
said softly, blowing him
a kiss when he glanced at her. "I love you. And
later tonight....I'll show you
how much."
"You promise?" he asked. Laying back down on the
bed, he stretched
his arms over his head and arched his back, briefly tensing
his muscles,
putting on a little show for her benefit. "Okay, honey-baby.
I'll see you
later."
Although she badly wanted to jump back into the
bed and show him
just what she thought of such teasing, her mother-ingrained
sense of
responsibility forbade it.
She would, however, make him pay for
it...later.
******************************
The door to her classroom squeaked open
slowly during quiet
time. Buffy looked up, hoping to see Spike, and was
disappointed
when Willow walked in.
She perched on the side of Buffy's desk, her
back towards the
sleeping children. "All right, you," she said, a giddy
twinkle in her
eye. "Talk! I want to know everything. Don't leave out one
single
detail."
"About what?" Buffy asked
innocently.
Willow placed her hands flat on the desk and
leaned closer. "Don't
play games with me, young lady. I'm not your mother.
Now, spill
your guts."
After making a point of neatening up a desk that
didn't need
it, Buffy sighed. "After you left the club that
night...."
A few minutes later, having told the story as
concisely as she
could without being too evasive or giving away too many
personal
details, Buffy sat back in her chair, her chin propped on her
hand.
Willow's eyes were as round as silver dollars.
"That's just...that's an
amazing story. God, I wish he didn't have to leave.
I hate that he has
to go!" she said, upset on Buffy's behalf.
"So do I," Buffy replied. She could feel a wave
of unhappiness
approaching. To avoid being swamped by it, she forced
herself
to smile. "But, he'll be back. He promised."
"And you believe him?" Willow's question wasn't
mean spirited in
any way. It was simply her way of ascertaining the depth of
Buffy's
commitment and trust towards a man she hadn't really known
for
very long.
"I have faith," Buffy said firmly. "He'll come
back to me."
"And then what?"
That was a very good question, and one that
Buffy had no ready
answer for. Spike had promised to return, and she knew he
would
keep that promise, but she had no idea as to what might happen
after that, or what kind of long range plans he had.
It was the one worry that just wouldn't stop
nibbling at the edges
of her subconscious mind, the thing that she'd been
fretting
about from the moment she'd acknowledged her attraction to
him;
the differences in their lifestyles and their long term goals
in
life.
Spike was destined for success...for stardom. It
was obvious to
anyone who watched him perform and heard his music. He was
going
to soar high, and he wouldn't be one of those shooting stars that
flared for a brief moment in time and then burned out. He was just
too
damn good for that.
And what did that mean for her? What exactly did
he want from
her, from this love affair that they'd entered into rather
recklessly?
Would he stay here with her? Would he ask her to
go away with
him, and if he did, what would her role in his life be? A
girlfriend?
A lover?
A wife?
They'd never talked about their future together,
so Buffy had no idea
how he felt about the subject of marriage. Suppose he
wasn't inter-
ested in that sort of commitment? What would she do then?
Could
she compromise her own values, pretending that it didn't matter,
even
though it did?
All these tough questions were causing her to
work up the
beginnings of a really juicy headache. "I don't know," she
finally
answered her friend's question. "I'll think about it when I
absolutely
have to."
It was clear that Buffy wanted to end the
conversation, and Willow
prudently let the matter drop.
******************************
"I want all of you to look through your
stack of letters and find
the ones that spell your name," Buffy said, handing
each of
the children a sheet of construction paper. "When you think
you've
found them, let me know and I'll give you a glue stick and
some
glitter."
As the kids rooted through the paper letters,
Willow popped her
head in through the open door. "Phone call in the office,"
she
informed Buffy.
No one ever called her at work, and Buffy's
heart flip-flopped
in her chest. It had to be Spike.
She turned her class over to Willow's
supervision and almost
ran to answer the phone. Stepping into Willow's
private office,
she closed the door.
"Hello?"
"I just called...to say...I love you," a husky
voice sang in her
ear.
"Oh, brother." Buffy rolled her eyes and dropped
down into
the desk chair.
"Whhaat?" Spike asked. "Too cute?"
She laughed. "No. Just cute enough. Don't move
or you'll
spoil it."
"How's school? Is my favorite audience behaving
themselves
and minding Miss Buffy?"
"I haven't had to put anyone in time out, so
yeah, I guess they
are." She glanced at her watch. Almost two o'clock.
"Are
you still at my house?"
"No. Matter of fact, that's why I'm calling. I
have to drive to
Los Angeles and take care of some business."
"Oh." She tried not to sound too crestfallen.
"Tour business?"
she went on, hating to ask about the unpleasant
subject.
"'Fraid so, love."
"Will I see you later?"
He hesitated. "Um...I don't know. I mean, I'm
not sure how
long it'll take. If it gets real late then I'll probably spend
the
night in a hotel, come back in the morning."
It was the last thing she wanted to hear, but
she didn't want
him driving back if he was tired, so she made an
agreeable
response.
They exchanged "I love yous" and went their
separate
way.
********************
The phone rang as Buffy finished loading the
dishwasher.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sweetheart."
"Hi. Where are you?"
"Too far away from you. I'm at the Marriott.
Room 506."
"Is it nice?"
"Oh, yeah, it's quite posh. All the
amenities."
"That's nice."
"How was your day, love?"
"Pretty good."
"Do you miss me?"
"You know I do."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"So....what are you wearing?"
TBC...
(A short chapter, I know, but I'll make up for
it with the
next one) <p><p>
Part thirty-two...
"What am I...huh?"
Buffy gripped the phone tightly in her
hands.
Spike chuckled in an
evil way. "I asked you what you're
wearing."
"I know what you asked
me," she said. "Why do you want to know
what I'm wearing?"
She heard
him sigh, then he said, "I keep forgetting what a little
innocent you are.
Let's start over. Do you want to play a game?"
The tone of his voice made
her skin tingle. "What kind of game?"
Instead of answering her, he asked
another question. "Where are you
in the house?"
"The living
room."
"Which phone are you using?"
"The cordless."
"Good.
Scamper upstairs to your bedroom, there's a good girl."
Suitably
intrigued, Buffy obeyed.
"Okay, now what?"
"Now...tell me what
you're wearing."
"Sweat pants and a t-shirt."
Spike laughed. "No,
you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"Buffy...the only pair of sweat pants
you own are the
ones you let me wear last night...and I know you're
not
wearing them."
Buffy was surprised. "How do you know
that?"
"Because I have them with me," he informed her. "Now, if you
want to play this game the right way, put the phone down and slip
into
something sexy."
Muttering under her breath, she held her hand over the
receiver for a
minute. "Okay, I'm back."
"Good. Now, tell me...what
are you wearing?"
"A black patent leather cat suit...tail
included."
"Buffy!"
"French maid outfit?"
"Stop
that."
"Does a Snow White costume do it for ya?"
"Yes, and we'll
definitely explore that option when I get back, but
for right now...be my
serious girl, okay?"
"Okay."
"Good. I'll call you back in five
minutes. Be ready for
me."
******************************
"Hello?"
"What
are you wearing?"
Buffy had figured out how this game was properly played
and had
suited up in the appropriate attire. "My blue skirt and cream silk
blouse."
"Oh, I like you in that blouse," Devlin said softly. "It's
practically
see through."
"I know."
"Do you have on sexy
underwear...never mind, I just remembered
that all your underwear is sexy.
Tell me what you have on."
"Pale...pink...lace."
"Good girl.
Now...unzip your skirt and let if fall around your feet."
Holding the
phone between her shoulder and ear, she did.
"Now," he went on, "I want
you to do that trick girls do...the one
where they can get out of their bra
without taking off their blouse."
"I'll have to put the phone down," she
warned him.
"All right. Hurry..."
She withdrew her arms from the
sleeves of her shirt and wriggled
around until she had her bra unhooked.
Slipping the straps down,
she whisked it out from under the hem of her blouse
and dropped
it on the floor. "I'm back."
"Mmm...that blouse is VERY
see through, isn't it? Is it cold in
your room?"
"No."
"Then
your nipples are hard because you're thinking about me?"
Buffy felt her
entire body blush. "Maybe," she choked out.
"No 'maybe' about it,
darling. Touch them. Through your blouse."
By now she knew that this
wasn't just a playful 'obscene' phone
call. He required participation on her
part, other than just listening
and talking, and she felt her heart rate
increase noticeably.
She brought her right hand up and gingerly cupped it
beneath her
breast.
"Come on, baby. Do what I said."
How did
he know?!
Sighing, she let her index finger skate lightly over the taut
peak
of her left breast. She was surprised at how pleasurable the
sensation was, although it was nothing compared to the way Spike
touched
her.
"Does it feel good?" he whispered.
"Yes," she said, nodding,
even though she knew he couldn't see
her.
"Do you want to know what
I'd do...if I were there with you?"
Buffy felt the familiar wetness
between her legs. "Okay."
"I'd drop to my knees in front of
you."
That mental picture made her gasp.
"Then...I'd start with
the bottom button on your blouse. I'd undo it
slowly....then move up to the
next one...and the next one. And I'd
kiss every inch of your soft skin on my
way up. I'd slip your blouse
off over your shoulders and let it slide down
your arms."
She quickly worked the buttons open herself.
"I want
you to keep it on. It's draped around you...held on by the
cuffs at your
wrists."
Buffy closed her eyes and moistened her lips. "Now...now
what
are you doing?" she asked.
He was silent for a moment, obviously
surprised that she had
spoken. "Now...I'm standing next to you and taking
down your hair.
Is it braided?"
It wasn't, but she told him it
was.
"I'm sliding the hairpins out, and loosening the braid. God,
it
looks beautiful...the way it flows down over your shoulders in
ripples....they way it frames your face...it's so soft, baby. Smells
so
damn good."
His tone was deeper and huskier, alerting her as to
just
how aroused he was.
"Your panties...do they have the little
ribbons on the side to
hold them up?"
"Yes."
"All right
then....I'm tugging them open. Slowly. Now, I'm pulling
them
forward...between your legs. Then...."
Then what? THEN
WHAT??
"They smell good. Like you. Purely female."
A slow shudder
moved over her body. This was the best phone
call she'd ever
gotten!
"You look so sexy, standing there with only your shirt
on...half-
way on...your hair all mussed from me playing with
it."
"What's next?" she breathed.
"Now, I put my hands on your
shoulders and push you back
gently, until you can feel the bed behind you. I
make you lie
back on it, with your legs hanging over the side. I spread
them
apart and stand between them."
Buffy was thankful for the
opportunity to lie down, certain that
her knees were about to give out and
she'd end up on the floor in
a panting heap.
"For a long time, I just
look at you. You're like a gift, just for
me. Bare breasts...slender
waist...all that perfect skin. And
between your legs...mmm...so pink and
wet...open, like a
flower."
His voice flowed seductively into her ear,
stirring up a reaction
that she felt all the way down to the soles of her
feet.
"Finally...I can't wait one more moment. I'm getting drunk
on
your scent and I fall to my knees. I want to worship you,
baby. You're
my goddess...my princess."
Buffy drew in a shaky breath. "And...who are
you?"
She heard another wicked laugh. "I'm the man your mother
warned
you about."
Well, THAT was certainly true.
"I put my hands on
your thighs, stroking them. Soft and warm,
but strong. I love the way they
feel wrapped around me."
A tiny moan escaped from her throat.
"I
lean down and kiss them, first one, and then the other. When
you're writhing
beneath me, I move up your body to your breasts."
Buffy swallowed hard.
"Oh...good."
"I'm above you now, kissing and licking your breasts. You
want
more...and I give it to you...taking your nipples into my
mouth.
Sucking on them. Over and over again. You like that, don't
you
baby? When I suck your tits?"
Breathlessly, she whispered,
"Yes..."
"I move back between your thighs. You're even wetter now,
and
I want a taste of it. So, I go down on you. I slide my
tongue into your
pussy...as far as I can make it go. I wait for
a moment, moving it around
inside you, then I start fucking
you with it."
A light sheen of
perspiration broke out on her body.
"Listen close." There was the
metallic sound of a zipper
being opened. "Did you hear
it?"
"Yes."
"Do you know what I
did?"
"Uh-huh."
"Tell me."
Her voice was nearly inaudible.
"You unzipped your...your
pants."
"Yes. I did. I climb up on the bed,
straddling your thighs, and I
push them down a bit. Then I reach inside
and..."
Her eyes closed as she tensed, waiting for it.
"...I take
out my cock," he whispered hotly. "I play with it a
little...slide my hand
up and down while you watch. It gets slick
from the cum that's dripping out
of it. I keep jacking it, still
looking at you. The look on your face steals
my breath. You
want it, don't you? You want my cock."
Buffy whimpered
an affirmative.
"I take your hand and wrap your little fingers around
my
dick. That sweet, soft hand is pumping my cock, hard and
fast."
Yes. Yes, he liked that. He had taught her
how.
"Buffy...?"
"Yes?"
"Reach down and touch yourself.
Play with your pussy."
Without a moment of hesitation, she cupped her
hand over
her sex and massaged it gently.
"Now, rub your
clit."
It took her a second, then her fingers found the seat of
her
greatest pleasure. Frantically aroused, she fingered herself in
search
of...something....
"Keep doing that," Spike instructed, "while I slide my
cock up
in that tight pussy. Oh, yeah..."
Buffy was quickly losing the
ability to pay attention. She
rubbed and tugged at her clit, squeezing it
firmly, holding on
to the image in her mind as best she could.
"I push
you further up the bed so I can lay on top of you. I'm
pounding my cock in,
faster and faster. Can you feel it? Feel
me just...ramming it in...ah,
fuck...your arms are around me...I
can feel your nails digging into my back.
Your hands slip
down and you grab my ass while I'm fucking
you."
"Spike..."
"I'm fucking you so hard, baby. You're...you're
taking my
cock all the way. Clamping down on it...squeezing
it...milk-
ing it."
Buffy murmured something
unintelligible.
"You want it harder? I'll give it you...give it to you as
hard as you
can take it. I slide one hand under your right knee and lift
it,
opening you even more."
She could hear the faint, wet sounds of
his masturbating, and
it drove her own passion even higher. "Don't stop," she
moaned.
"Never gonna stop, baby. Gonna fuck you forever."
The
friction she created for herself was white hot. She was so
close...so
close...
"Ahhh...Buffy! Yeah...yeah...fuck me back...suck me with
your
pussy."
Beneath her closed eyelids suns exploded, stars went
super
nova. She arched her back when she felt the contractions of
orgasm
begin.
"Come on, love," he muttered harshly. "I'm gonna
come...want
you...with me...I...oh...do it, baby! Do it
now...now...ahhh...yeah,
that's..."
Mutual cries of satisfaction
traveled the phone lines, then turned
to soft gasps and panted
moans.
"Buffy? Honey?"
There was a voice coming
from...somewhere.
"Sweetheart...you okay?"
"Define okay," she
mumbled, wiping her sticky hand on the
sheet.
Spike chuckled
knowingly. "I take it you liked that?"
"That's...that's a fair
statement." Buffy sighed deeply and
turned onto her side.
"Well,
don't get too used to it. I'll be back tomorrow and
then it's my job
again."
Yes, and then two days later...he would be gone again.
She
almost said it, biting down on her lip to keep the un-
happy words from being
uttered. Like Scarlett O' Hara, she
would think about that
tomorrow.
"Spike?"
"What, baby?"
"What are YOU
wearing?"
TBC....
(Time is almost up!)
Feedback
is deeply appreciated.