Somewhere in the south of France, in the Provence, a Brit turned driving instructor meets an American turned foreign exchange student. He's filling in for a friend, how much will he fill?
Categories: NC-17 Fics Characters:
Romance, Action, ParodyWarnings:
Adult Language, Sexual Situations, Freaky/Kinky
1. Off-road by Blackoberst
This started as a one-shot but has since developed into what will be a series. The inspiration for this as well as for the future sequels is my darling Sotia.
Also, she has been the one to test-read this for me, while Beth was gracious enough to beta. Without the two of them, this fic would be either still stuck in my head or better suited for private reading, not posting.
I'd like to thank them and let you get to it.
Bloody, buggering git and his manipulative ways. Getting me stuck with some chit that can’t drive worth shit. And me with my idiotic, “Sure, mate, go and shag Darla brainless, more than she already is. I’ll take care of your class for you!” Where is the bint?
William “Spike” Pratt threw the fifth fag he had smoked in a row onto the ground, relishing the sight of it bouncing off the concrete beside his foot and took perhaps a bit too much pleasure in squashing it underneath his boots. He had refused to adhere to any dress code and had worn his usual all-black attire, accentuating his pale skin and bleached hair. When he taught his own classes, he did show up in a less threatening garb, but now that he was just substituting for his flat mate, he’d decided to do without the blue button-down shirt and dress pants.
He figured that the opinion of the chit he was supposed to be teaching was irrelevant to him, seeing as how Angel was twice as broody as normal, if that was possible, when he came home after trying to teach the girl he’d once described as a “bubbly American” how to drive. How an American girl, in a day in age where your life started once you got your driver’s license, managed to get to nineteen without one was beyond him.
Then again, he had been waiting on her to get to the designated spot for fifteen minutes now, and patience was not his strong point. He lit another cigarette with his Zippo and continued his mental list of curses while leaning on Angel’s useless car. When he’d agreed to take over this evening, he had made it clear that there was no way he’d use his prized DeSoto, so Angel had reluctantly given him the keys to his Peugeot with the warning that no scratches were allowed. Spike snorted at this. He’d been one of the best street racers back in London, before he’d come to the land of the frog eaters.
Just as he was finishing his sixth fag, he noticed a girl with flowing blonde hair that seemed out of a commercial, with green eyes that would make anyone get lost in them and lips that just begged to be kissed. The rest of her wasn’t bad, either. She wore a tank top and nothing underneath it, if the way her nipples were outlined underneath the fabric wasn’t just a trick of the light. The shorts she wore must have been illegal in most countries, as they showed more than they covered, barely reaching past the juncture of her legs. Nice, shapely legs that were as tanned as the rest of her body. He wondered if she’d have tan lines, as none were showing that he could tell. She was wearing sneakers, but her hips swayed as if she was in high heels. He became instantly aroused and leered at the girl as she approached him.
“Es-ce que je peux vous aider, mademoiselle?” He said with an almost flawless French accent that he’d perfected over the decade he’d spent in the country across the Channel from his native London, hoping to impress the girl.
“Je cherche pur monsieur Angel, je suis son étudiante, Buffy. Cela ca est sa voiture, n’est ce pas?” She replied in French that was surprisingly good, what with her being all-American and ignorant. Then again, Angel had mentioned something about her being a foreign exchange student here, going to some posh college that her dad had set her up in. So maybe she wasn’t as dumb as he’d initially thought. That still didn’t mean she was a rocket scientist or anything. However, the fact that she was drop dead gorgeous wasn’t something that his friend had ever mentioned. Spike made a mental note to have a little chat with Angel about warning a bloke when he’s about to meet a girl suited for the cover of a magazine.
“Sorry, love, but Angel’s gone and saddled you with yours truly for tonight, seeing as he’s busy,” he said after dismissing the idea to continue speaking with her in French in order to test how long it would take her to catch on that he was, in fact, British. That particular game didn’t hold that much appeal, now that he was more entertained with picturing the patches of skin her flimsy clothing covered.
“So what, you are supposed to teach me how to drive?” All the sweetness bled out of her voice, leaving a steely tone and eyes that were looking down on him as if he was some bum on the street. His blood boiled at the thought. “I bet you don’t even know the correct side to drive on. I paid good money to have Angel teach me how to drive and this is just ridiculous. No Billy Idol wannabe can teach me anything I want to know.” She finished with a small huff and stomped her foot in annoyance.
Spike mentally counted to ten to keep himself from wringing the chit’s neck, or from telling her exactly what he wanted to teach her, preferably with both of them naked. His cock was still hard, but her attitude was so bloody infuriating that he had a good mind to just say “to hell with it” and drive off, leaving Angel to deal with this SoCal bitch. Then again, if Angel didn’t get the money for this lesson, rent would be a bit difficult to pay this month, since they’d both spent a hefty amount on a new sound system. Once again cursing both the Poof and himself, he put on a fake smile and said through clenched teeth, “Would you just get in the car and we’ll see who can teach what to whom?”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me! I’ve never even seen you before and you want me to get into a car with you? As if!” She shook her head once, making her hair bounce around her shoulders.
“Look, you’re paying for this either way, seeing as how you give your money to the school and not an individual instructor. So what if Angel isn’t here? I’ve got my instructor permit just as he does and the only reason we wouldn’t be having our lesson would be your stubborn refusal. So either you get into the car and start driving, or not. It’s the same to me. I’ll get paid either way.” So what if the school knew nothing of this little arrangement of theirs? There was no reason to tell the bitch.
She huffed once again, stomping her foot for good measure, but she turned and walked to the car’s side, preparing herself to get in. Spike briefly thought about how good her mouth looked all pouty like that. He shook off the idea and made his own way inside the car, lighting another fag once he was in.
She jerked the door open and then banged it closed after climbing in, scrunching her nose in an adorable way once she put on her seatbelt and adjusted the seat and mirrors.
“Thanks for opening the door for me, you Neanderthal. And put that cancer stick out, I don’t care if you want to kill yourself, but while I’m in the car there will be no smoking, thank you!” She said, accentuating the last two words.
“Listen here, you barmy woman. If you think I’m some knight in black armor, you’re sadly mistaken. As for me smokin’, you better get used to the idea, seein’ as how I’m not your servant, got that, you Barbie wannabe?” He relished paying her back for the Billy Idol snark, as he hated being compared to him, despite having the same bleach blond hair.
“You’ll put it out if you don’t want me reporting you to your bosses!” She answered right back. At least he had to give her that; she didn’t miss a beat when it came to the banter. Damn it, but that made her even more appealing to him.
Mumbling under his breath about bossy little girls that should know their place, he threw the cigarette out the window, unconcerned with where it landed. She visibly restrained herself from commenting on his blatant disregard for all rules as she concentrated on starting the car.
The bird’s goin’ to kill me! She can’t even make first gear right after two weeks of classes?
Spike mentally groaned as Buffy fumbled with the controls of the car. Since it wasn’t a fancy automatic, it made things notably more difficult for her. After three attempts, one of which ended when she choked the motor, he reached his hand out and removed the keys from the ignition.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”
The look she threw him was abashed and full of venom at the same time, something he was starting to think only she was capable of pulling off. Or at least he’d never met someone that could do it before her.
“I’m driving, what does it look like? Should you have glasses or something? Are you on some sort of medication that you forgot to take this morning, or what?” She made a move to get the keys out of his hand, making the seatbelt press harder against her chest, emphasizing her perky breasts and – were her nipples hard?
Tearing his eyes away from her chest, he glared at her. “Look, you obviously have a warped view on the concept, so I’ll make it simple for you. When you can’t even get first gear right, it’s not called driving, it’s called trashing the gearbox. And since this is something you should have already learned ages ago, I’ll show you.”
He put the keys back in, grabbed one of her hands and put it on the wheel, holding it in place with his own in a punishing grip. He took her right hand and placed it on the gearshift, pressing it in place with his other hand. He ignored her protests and insults and stayed like that until she quieted down. He then pressed with his feet on the pedals specifically installed on his side for that purpose and guided her hand at the appropriate time in order to put the car into gear. Once done, he aided her movements until they were no longer parked and onto the street.
She was fuming and shooting him scorching glares every once in a while, calling him pervert, pig or anything else she could think of. He drove the car for a few meters and then parked, still clutching her hands in his and working on the pedals himself, tightening his grip every time she tried to use the ones on her side. As soon as they were parked, he retracted his hands and stretched his feet, his torso recovering from the awkward position. “Now it’s your turn!”
She was speechless for the first time since they’d met; something she wasn’t familiar with from the look on her face. With a newfound determination, she worked her hands and feet in such a way that she actually managed to get the car moving on the first try.
“You airhead, look before you enter traffic! You think those mirrors are there just to check on your mascara? And quit revving the motor or I’m taking the reins again.” Spike was almost livid. What the hell had Angel been teaching her, how to rub up against his hand every time she tried to shift gears? Knowing him, that wasn’t too far off the mark.
“What do you mean? I looked, there wasn’t anyone there!” She screamed at him, taking her eyes off the road and facing him.
He grabbed the wheel again and steadied the car, as her swerving was threatening to send them onto the sidewalk. “You’re lucky they have brakes in the cars they put on the road since three guys almost plowed into you, you menace! And always keep your eyes on the road, unless you have a death wish or something.” His jaws hurt from gritting his teeth together, his hands were itching to smack her for being such a danger to everyone and his cock still wanted to punish her in other ways.
He once again brought the car to a stop and got out, yanking her door open. “Get out, we’re changing the location and you’re not driving ‘til we get there.”
She didn’t move an inch. “What do you mean? Angel always had me drive on these streets; they’re the only ones I’m familiar with. Are you crazy or something?” She clenched her fists in frustration and glared at him. If looks could kill, he’d probably be six feet under by now.
Ignoring her protests, he leaned over her, unbuckled her seatbelt and dragged her out of the car, holding onto an arm as he walked her over to the passenger side. He made her get in and slammed the door shut, then walked around the car once more and got in the driver’s seat.
He drove them out of the city, up towards the hills as she sulked in the passenger seat. He’d never used the mountain roads as teaching grounds, but he loved to drive there, as there was a lot less traffic. Once he reached a wider bend in the road, he stopped the car and turned towards the girl currently looking out the side window, obviously admiring the view. Too bad she was so infuriating, because the way the dying sun’s rays caught her highlighted hair gave her an almost ethereal glow that only emphasized her beauty. After a few seconds of silent contemplation, he shook himself out of it. She was a student and she had a lot to learn. So he ignored the erection that hadn’t abated one bit since he’d first laid eyes on her and unbuckled his seatbelt.
“This area’s much more suited to you, I think. Few cars, not many intersections and enough room for you to learn how to drive a car good and proper like.” He smirked at her.
She turned dreamy eyes on him, but once she realized who she was in the car with, her features hardened in the now familiar look of disdain. He wanted to wipe that look off her face and get her to scream his name as she came, but he once again squashed down his urges.
“What did you say your name was, so that I know who I’m reporting?” she asked.
“It’s Spike, love, and you better remember that!” He tucked his tongue behind his teeth, unable to resist flirting with her.
At her snort, his own features hardened. “I wouldn’t be so quick to judge in your place, Buffy,” he threw over his shoulder as he got out of the car.
“It’s a perfectly good name, unlike some people. Did your parents think they were buying a pet?” She plastered a fake smile on her face.
“At least mine’s a nickname, so I guess your parents were just lacking imagination,” he said as he still waited for her to get out of the car, holding the door open.
“As if!” She shouted as she shimmied over the gearshift and into the driver seat.
He could swear his jeans’ buttons were gonna pop from seeing her cross from one seat to the other.
After they drove on the deserted mountain roads for a few dozen minutes, with her clutching the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles were white, he was almost convinced she wouldn’t choke the motor any more. As she got more relaxed, her driving actually seemed to be improving, so perhaps the worst was behind them.
Just as these thoughts were crossing Spike’s mind, he was jolted out of his reverie as the car swerved so abruptly that his head hit the side window. Another car had passed on a perpendicular road, having priority, as the STOP sign was placed on their road, a sign Buffy had apparently decided to ignore completely. As she struggled to regain control of the car, the other vehicle drove off, honking his horn, barely covering the loud cursing from the irate driver.
Spike grabbed the wheel and Buffy pulled in the opposite direction, causing the car to roll off the embankment and onto a service road that ran parallel to the main road where it finally ground to a halt.
Spike’s vision was blurred, a red haze having fallen over his eyes, his high adrenaline levels drowning out all reason. He got out of the car after yanking the keys out of the ignition and unbuckling both his and Buffy’s seatbelts. He left the door wide open and opened the driver side door as well, grabbing Buffy and hauling her out of the car.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? Didn’t I tell you to check the mirrors? And what was that back there, ignoring the stop sign like it was last year’s catalogue? Are you completely ‘round the bend or are you just naturally deficient, being blonde and all?” He was shaking her by the shoulders, uncaring about the force he exerted, unable to think past the fact that they’d almost died and wrecked the car as well.
“It’s all your fault! If you were any good at teaching people how to drive this wouldn’t have happened. I doubt you even know which side of the road the car is supposed to stay on. It’s you that made me fall into this ditch!” She shouted right back at him.
“Are you kidding me? You can’t drive anything, except maybe drive me crazy! You should learn the routes for the public transportation or get a boyfriend to drive you around like a hood ornament, ‘cause you’re just a sodding Barbie doll!”
“It’s not my fault you went all postal on me and had me driving around with almost no light except the sunset. And oh, my God! Did you just call me Barbie? AGAIN?” She slapped him and his brain shorted out.
Without thinking, and too pissed to care, he turned her around, bent her over the hood of the car, holding her down with one hand, while his other hand came down hard on her ass. Once, twice, three times. After two more smacks, his mind cleared enough to realize what exactly he was doing and to whom.
One hand was pressed to Buffy’s back, keeping her pinned to the hood of the car while his other was currently residing between her ass cheeks, where he’d delivered his last smack, his fingers digging in the hollow between her thighs. A few things filtered through as well. The sting in his hand from slapping her delectable ass, she wasn’t fighting him - in fact she had braced her hands on the car and she was now panting - she’d parted her legs slightly, and the tips of his fingers were touching a clearly damp patch of cloth, right where her pussy was.
One more thing was clear in that moment: she wore no undergarments at all. The lack of bra had distracted him throughout the ride, her nipples hard and inviting, accentuated by the way the seatbelt pressed her shirt even tighter on her tits. Now he found that his hand could detect no tell-tale sign of panties, thong or otherwise. That thought nearly unmade him and caused his fingers to twitch, rubbing her through her shorts, moistening the material even more.
Getting over his temporary motionlessness, he smacked her once more, right on the middle of her ass, his fingers traveled even further south, making her spread her legs a fraction wider. He smirked and lowered his torso over hers, his lips close to her ear, and he whispered, “You’re enjoying this, you dirty little girl.”
She managed to half-moan “No!” as his fingers rubbed circles over her clearly sopping pussy.
“That’s not what your body’s telling me, sweets!” He chuckled as she moved her hips to grind herself into his hand. “You’re dripping wet and the inferno between your legs is almost burnin’ me up.”
She whimpered as he removed his hand then gathered her wits about her enough to spit at him, “You pig!”
He slapped her ass again, and she closed her eyes in pleasure. The girl has a kinky side she apparently knew nothing about. He moved his hand so that she spread herself more for him and then smacked right over her damp crotch.
She was clearly not expecting the pleasure that rippled through her at his rough treatment and the fact that she was trying to deny it even as she writhed in pleasure was almost funny, had he not been so turned on himself that he was rubbing his erection against her thigh.
“You like me smacking you, punishing you for being so disobedient towards your teacher? You want me to teach you something else, love?” He purred into her ear as she shook her head in a last attempt to deny the obvious. He kept moving his fingers over her clit through her shorts and she lost the inner-battle with herself.
“Nguh… ple… nuwah… please…” She was all but thrashing under him now, needing something, some form of release and he knew exactly how to bring it to her. He’d make her his, at least for tonight and teach her how she should treat a real man. The thought of other men taking advantage of what he would teach her fleeted through his mind and gave him an unwanted twinge, but he shook it off and concentrated on the task at hand.
“I know what you need, kitten. I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he whispered in her ear again as he worried her earlobe between his teeth. He then straightened up for the next part of her punishment.
He moved his hand lower and lower, and eventually under her, to the front of her pants, as she continued to rub up against his forearm. His other hand started inching her top upward, intending to get rid of all her garments and leave her open to his perusal, despite the waning light. He tried to unbutton her shorts, but because of the confined space between her pelvis and the car and her constant movement, he ended up snapping it instead. He gave a mental shrug and tugged her zipper down as he helped her raise her shirt over her breasts when she arched up off the hood. She seemed reluctant to take off her top completely, something that he didn’t have that much of a problem with, the image of her bared breasts rubbing against the hood of the car with the strip of fabric above them only adding to his arousal.
Unable to contain himself any longer, he yanked her pants down to her knees and raised his hand once more to caress the globes now naked for his pleasure. He touched them gently, trying to make out the outline of the marks left by his earlier smacks. Unable to discern them properly, he set off to create new ones.
She yelped as he spanked her the first time, then, as he continued his hard smacks on her flesh, making the globes of her ass jiggle in a delightful way, she lowered one of her hands and started rubbing her clit.
God she’s gorgeous!
“You love this, don’t you, kitten? Being all exposed like this, knowing that there may be people passing the road right next to us, that they might see us.” He smacked her again, relishing the moans she emitted. “You like it rough, don’t you?” He asked, digging his nails into the skin of her back and ass.
“Close… ngaaaah, so close!” She was rubbing herself furiously with one hand, while her other pinched one of her perky breasts, making the nipple stand out even more. “Harder! Slap me harder! Punish me!”
Her previous actions had already told him that this was a first for her, so hearing her beg for it was icing on the cake. He didn’t disappoint, slapping her pussy hard and fast, while his other hand reached for the breast she wasn’t holding. Sensing that she was very close, he pinched her nipple and inserted two fingers in her waiting hole at the same time, making her shudder all over and break apart with a powerful shriek.
“Come for me, love!” He encouraged her. As she clenched her thighs and her inner muscles fluttered, he watched in awe while she let go.
As she writhed in orgasm, he took the opportunity to open up his jeans and free his cock, breathing a sigh of relief as it had been aching to be released for hours now. He started stroking himself in time with the scissoring of his fingers inside her dripping pussy. Without letting her clear her mind after coming, he pressed closer to her, rubbing the head of his cock over her folds and on her ass, moving the hand still inside her to accommodate the angle he wanted to stroke her at.
“Are you safe, love? I’m clean.” He rasped, barely keeping himself from plunging inside her and saying to hell with the consequences.
“Y-ye-” She didn’t get to finish her incoherent stream of babbling as he simultaneously extracted his fingers and sheathed himself within her in one powerful thrust, going almost all the way in.
He didn’t ease up on the pressure, rather allowing the last inch to slide inside her agonizingly slow. Her hands, which had gone slack after she came, started working frantically, trying to bring her to another orgasm to ease the powerful need his cock was stirring deep within her as it stretched her inner passage.
“So… tight… so… hot!” He panted as he tried to contain himself from coming like a schoolboy watching porn for the first time.
When he was satisfied that he wouldn’t shoot his load at the first movement, he eased his way out and then slammed back in with all of his force, making her legs rise off the ground, the shorts she’d worn acting almost like restraints. He moved inside her at an ever quickening pace, dotting each thrust with a slap on her reddened ass.
She was babbling, moaning and panting, her eyes half closed, her hands caressing herself, her hair spread on the hood of the car. To him, she looked like an angel fallen from heaven, something that he was fortunate enough to be able to touch, to feel, to savor.
“Fuck, Buffy, you feel so good. So bloody good! So bloody hot and tight! Come for me, love. Come one more time for me!”
As he said these words, he let both his hands fall hard on her ass and stay there, conserving the heated sting that he’d created earlier. His fingers dug into her flesh, his thumbs pressing her puckered back entrance. He slammed hard inside her, his balls hitting her clit and bringing her to another howling orgasm.
As she trembled underneath and around him he focused as hard as he could not to let himself tumble over the edge at the feeling of her. He still had things he wanted to do to her. And there was something he felt he owed that git, Angel. “Let’s move a bit, luv.”
Once she relaxed a bit, still wracked with the aftershocks of her orgasm, he withdrew his cock from deep within her, ignoring both her protests and his body’s. He snaked a hand underneath her and raised her off the hood, guiding her, stumbling and weak-legged, to the driver’s seat. He not-so-gently deposited her there, her legs over the edge of the car, her back on the chair, her head almost on the passenger seat and her ass in the air. He was cradling her ass in his hands now, positioning himself at her opening again.
“No, I can’t any more! You’re gonna kill me if I… well… you know… again.” She turned an endearing shade of red.
“You’re bloody gorgeous when you blush, love, did anyone tell you that?” He chuckled, the vibrations being transmitted down his arms to her lower body.
“No, I’m not.” She blushed even more.
“And don’t be afraid to name things with me. Everything is perfectly natural and there’s no shame in saying that you came.” His grin turned rakish. “In fact, I want to hear you come again and again and-” He finished by swooping down and kissing her hard, the first kiss they shared. It wasn’t sweet and full of promise; it was a hungry man devouring his meal. It was two lovers mating with their tongues. It was raw and primal and real.
From the way her eyes snapped open, questioning and frightened, he realized that she probably had never been kissed like that before. What wankers has she been spending her time with? At that thought, for the second time in less than an hour, his stomach roiled, his chest clenched and his mind was overcome by one instinct: Mine!
Unable to explain the speed with which the girl was situating herself into his every pore and unwilling to express his thoughts about that subject, he settled for slamming balls deep within her. The completion he felt once he was fully sheathed into this spitfire of a girl was something he couldn’t ever remember feeling and it was throwing off his game of “teacher and bad student”.
Because of the conflicting feelings within him and because of her probable soreness, he chose not to use bruising strokes this time. Instead, he used leisurely thrusts and languid withdrawals from her willing depths. Each time his balls connected with her ass he retracted until just the very tip was still within her. She raised her legs to encircle him as his hands massaged her ass and his cock moved inside her.
His eyes were drawn to hers and they lost themselves in each other. In the dying light of the late evening, her green eyes were becoming darker, turning to black pools that beckoned him nearer. Time seemed to stop, a sort of plateau was reached, and he could swear he felt happy.
Almost in a fluid motion, she gasped and came, the movement of her inner muscles on his cock finally making him tumble into an abyss of pleasure, the only thing penetrating the haze being her large eyes trained on him. Once he was spent, he collapsed on top of her, every motor function deserting his sated body.
What felt like an eternity passed, with their intermingled panting dotting time like a chronometer. He lay on her, with both her legs and her arms coiled tightly around him. He felt peace and happiness.
Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers once more, now almost obscured in darkness. “You’re beautiful, love.”
Her almost teary eyes were filled with bliss at his declaration and she beamed at him. “Could we have more lessons like that one?”
His laughter filled the air, washing all possible awkwardness with it. He kissed her nipples one at a time and gave her ass a squeeze. “Of course we can, love, for as long as you want. You’re a bloody great student, you are!” His eyes hardened with his next words. “But don’t you do this with anyone but me. I’m a right jealous bloke and I’ll kill any wanker thinks he can lay his hands on my girl.” He looked at her almost pleadingly. “You are my girl, aren’t you?”
She worried her lip for a second, seeming to ponder what to do, then grabbed the sides of his head and pulled him down for their second soul-stealing kiss. One thing was clear: the wild ride had just begun!
Hope you enjoyed and that you're looking forward for more.
Translation from French:
May I help you, Miss?
I'm searching for Mr. Angel, I'm his student, Buffy. That's his car, right?
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.