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Author's Corner

[Reviews - 12]

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Authors Chapter Notes:
Hello all! Yes, yes, I know I have Two Coins to finish and I haven't updated in quite awhile. Unfortunately, my muse has been a bit uncooperative. Then after talking with Peaceheather and Dampersandspoons on chatzy on EF, I decided to get my creative juices flowing *ahem* by writing a one shot. This is totally tongue-in-cheek, so have fun! Oh, this takes place in the 70's, so the strange lingo, of the non-porny variety, is from then. Big thanks to my lovely betas, Sanityfair and Diebirchen. And without further ado...

William “The Spike” MacCloud strode onto the set at his regular time, shortly after five p.m. True, the others were there at noon, but the director, Warren, knew better than to expect Spike at that ungodly hour, especially since he’d only gone to bed a few hours earlier.

As usual, Spike was stopped on his way to his dressing room by Andrew, a skittish blond who was decked head to toe in cheap polyester. While Andrew stood before Spike his eyes remained downcast, permanently affixed on the clipboard in his hands.

“Um, Mr. MacCloud, your dressing room is all set. I hope you like it.”

“Thanks, Andrew, ‘m sure everything’s primo.”

With that, Spike entered his dressing room. As expected, on the dressing table were a bottle of Jack and a heaping plate of spicy buffalo wings.

When Andrew first became Spike’s gopher he’d asked, “Why the wings?” Spike simply told him the spiciness makes his mouth water for hours after, and that got him ready for the ladies. Andrew darted out of the room, a puzzled look in his eyes and his cheeks blushing hotly.

Spike didn’t care if the boy got it or not. He was just stoked to have wings before every shoot.

Eyeing the time, Spike realized he had to get ready for his scene. He stripped off his customary torn jeans and safety-pinned t-shirt and slid on his black silk robe. Then after noshing on a few wings, having several swigs of whiskey, and giving a parting glance to his spiked, bleached hair, he headed out.

The set consisted of a king-sized bed fitted with black silk sheets, a blue-suede chaise lounge, and a bearskin rug. On the outskirts of the faux room were strategically placed lighting and movie equipment.

Anya currently occupied the bed. She was on all fours, receiving a steady pounding by Xander, who was sporting an eye patch and yelling “Argh” with each thrust.

Spike sat down in the director’s chair embellished with his name, “The Spike,” across the canvas and patiently waited for his scene, which was next. Today he was shooting with another pro in the business, Dru. He’d done dozens of scenes with the vampy brunette, and each time he’d had a blast.

The only problem he had with Dru was after each bump of blow, she lost a little more of her mind. During their last scene together, she’d stopped the whole production ‘cause she heard “voices.”

Spike was alone only for a few moments before Angelus strutted onto the set and sat in the director’s chair next to him.

Angelus stretched out one bare leg, causing his crushed red velvet smoking jacket to ride up precariously high on his upper thigh, as he studied his clearly recently manicured fingernails.

“So you’re banging Dru today? Well, she’s not bad in the sack and takes it in the ass like nobody else, but that chick’s nuttier than a fruit cake.” Spike watched as Angelus’ smug smirk erupted under his thick Freddy Mercury-like mustache.

“Yeah, well, dirty snow scrambles the noggin. Just as long as she doesn’t start talking to pixies while we’re shaggin’, ‘m cool.” Spike leaned back, crossed his legs at the ankles, and casually threw his arms over the back of his chair.

“Didn’t you get the low down?” Angelus kept his eyes trained on Spike while motioning for a fluffer.

Harmony skated over, only wearing knee-high, striped purple socks and white roller skates with sparkly unicorns emblazoned on the sides.

“You need me, boss?”

Without another word, she kneeled in front of Angelus, parted his robe, and exposed his throbbing gristle. She licked her cotton candy colored lips before opening wide and taking him to the hilt. While she sucked him like a bomb-pop on a sweltering summer’s day, Angelus continued talking casually while fisting a handful of Harmony’s platinum blonde hair.

“Warren wants some big ending to this flick. He said something about the two of us taking on Dru. I told him there’s no way I’m sharing the screen with another dude—Shit, watch the teeth!” Angelus tightened his grip in Harmony’s hair, stilling her movements.

She let his tenderized man-meat slide out her mouth with a soft pop, and after whispering her apologies, she carefully went back to work.

“You’d think with this chick being a Pro-job and all, she’d know teeth on dicks equals totally bad. Anyway, I think ya should talk to Warren before peg-leg Pete over there does his money shot.” Angelus motioned to Xander, whose hips were speeding up, his face contorted in borderline pleasure and pain.

“So why don’tcha wanna shoot a scene with me, Peaches? Is it overall performance anxiety, or are you afraid you just don’t measure up with yours truly?”

Angelus tried to respond, but Spike held up his hand to silence him while he noticed a gorgeous, petite blonde wearing only a silky jade green robe and black stilettos, standing just inside the doorway.

“And who is that?” Angelus shifted in his seat, dislodging Harmony in the process. She lost her balance and landed on her ass on the cold concrete floor.

“Ow! Hey!” Harmony remained on the floor sulking, as she gave Angelus the hairy eyeball.

Instead of ignoring Harmony as Angelus did, Spike decided to use her to his advantage. Knowing how chits in the business stuck together and how easily Harmony’s affections were swayed, Spike stood from his seat and chivalrously helped her from the floor. When she was standing, he leaned over and tenderly placed a kiss to the back of her hand, laying it on thick.

“Harm, be a lamb and find out who that is.” Instantly, Harmony smiled and appearing to bask in his attentions, batting her long faux-lashes while complying with his request.

“Okay, Blondie bear.”

Harmony glided over to the petite blonde. Spike watched the girls talking for a few moments before Harmony pointed over to them then toward the dressing rooms. After the brief exchange, the girls parted ways.

Harmony made her way back to them, wearing a beaming grin. When she reached the chairs, she started intently watching the ending scene between Anya and Xander, completely oblivious to the two men anxiously waiting on the edge of their seat for an answer.

“So—” Spike gently prompted her for a response.

“Oh, yeah! Well, that’s Buffy. She’s a newbie. Warren just hired her as your personal fluffer.” Harmony waved her hand nonchalantly like it was old news before golf-clapping after Anya and Xander’s big finish.


Angelus sputtered while standing from his perch. Since his sash was loosened, his doinker popped out from its crushed velvet confines and was now waving in the breeze.

“Well, well, it finally looks like this head cock got his due in the hen house.”

Spike sported a Cheshire-grin, while rubbing his hands together. He spun on his heels and started toward the dressing room. He only managed to make two steps before Angelus stilled him with his large hand grasping Spike’s shoulder. Spike turned and squared off with the larger man.

“How the fuck did you get your own personal fluffer? I’ve shot as many scenes as you have!” Angelus seethed, nostrils flaring.

“What can I say? Warren knows talent when he sees it.” Spike eyed the hand on his shoulder, saying, “I suggest you get your meat hook off me, Peaches, unless you’re itchin’ to bloody that pretty face of yours.”

Angelus eyed Spike a moment longer before his hand dropped away.

Spike started walking away before calling over his shoulder, “Oh, in the future, if you wanna pull off being the big dog and all, you should really hide that angry inch of yours before threatening a fella. ‘M just sayin’.”

Angelus snapped his robe closed and tightened the sash, then dropped into his seat with a huff. He watched Spike walking away until her heard Harmony snicker.

“What the fuck are you laughing at? Why don’tcha put your mouth to better use and come over here!” Angelus cupped his wilting Captain Winky through his robe, and shook it for good measure.

“Buzz off—teeny weenie!” With that, Harmony flipped her teased hair over her shoulder and skated away.

For the last ten minutes, Spike had been searching for Buffy without any luck. So he decided to head off to his dressing room for a little pre-scene prep. Yeah, there were plenty of fluffers he could get to help with this. Hell, he could have Harmony slobbering on his knob right now if he wanted, but after getting an eyeful of Buffy, no other sweet mouth would do.

So when he stepped into his dressing room, he was surely surprised at who he found. Sitting at his dressing table and helping herself to his whiskey, was Buffy. When she heard him enter, she shot up from the chair, fumbled, and spilled some liquor down her front.

“Oh, I, um—hi?” Buffy tried to discreetly to hide the bottle behind her back.

“Hello, cutie.”

Spike closed the door and with a predatory gait, sauntered closer. When their chests were almost touching, he reached around her and plucked the bottle from her hands then took a healthy swig. After four long swallows, he handed the whiskey back to her, and she took her own drink. When she finished, he slipped the bottle from her hands and placed it on the table.

“So now we’re drinking buddies. Care to tell a fella whatcha doin’ in here?”

“Kinda wanted to see the inner sanctum of the famous Spike.” Buffy boldly trailed her palms down his chest while her eyes remained fixed with his.

“This is just a room, luv. You wanna get to know the man, the best place to start is here—” Spike boldly grabbed one wandering hand and directed it to his Long-dong Silver, then guided her to cup him.

A saucy grin bloomed on her lips as she squeezed him. She then released his king schlong so she could work on loosening the knot in his sash. Once unknotted, the robe slipped opened revealing his body.

The tip of her tongue poked out and traced her glossy upper lip, while her eyes traveled over him. Buffy then dropped to her knees and claimed her prize, his ten-inch love gun.

She wrapped her tiny hand around the base and placed chaste kisses to the purplish helmet, followed by long laps to the shaft and short licks to the cock-slit, where she collected drops of creamy pre-cum.

“That’s it, baby.” Spike weaved his fingers into her hair, encouraging her to explore further.

She cupped and kneaded his heavy balls with her free hand. At the same time her lips closed around the mushroom-head, and with a steady pace she engulfed his divine rod. When it hit the back of her throat, she started to swallow around him.


Spike had to fight every urge to thrust his hips forward and fuck her mouth, especially when she started swirling the hand at the base in a clockwise motion as she started bobbing up and down on his tonsil tickler like a needle on a running sewing machine.

“Yeah, take it all, take it all.” Spike tightened his hands in her hair as his head lolled back in pleasure.

Buffy kept the steady pace going while routinely changing the positions of her hands. At one point, she’d shifted them to his ass, and her nails were now piercing his fleshy globes.

Then it happened. Never before in all his career had he felt this just from a simple slob-job, but it was unmistakable; he was about to bust a nut.

He slightly tugged her hair to get her attention before he warned her.

“’M ‘bout to blow my load, mouth or tits?”

Her only response was the hollowing of her cheeks, as she sucked on his joystick with renewed gusto. The hands gripping his ass guided him to start pumping his hips in time with her bobbing.

“Mouth it is—fuck!”

Following six steady thrusts, Spike shot his man juice into the hot cavern of her mouth. He felt spurt after spurt of his love paste leaving his main vein, and she swallowed down every bit.

With a final burst, Spike stilled his hips. He watched intently while she slid her mouth from his yogurt slinger, placed a kiss to the tip, before she stood as her tongue flickered over her lips, lapping up any stray drops of his man-naise.

“Mmm—delish,” Buffy cooed and continued licking her lips.

Spike pulled her into a scorching kiss, tasting his own spicy spunk with each sweep of his tongue. While their mouths explored, his hands tore at her robe to expose the tight body he knew was underneath.

He ripped off the offending clothing from her body and gently guided her to the chair behind her. When she sat, he released her mouth and stepped back.

“Now it’s my turn.”

Spike shifted her legs over the arms of the chair, opening up her honey pot for his hungry gaze. Her juices glistened in the light, making his mouth water. Spike dropped to his knees in front of her and dove right in.

“That’s it! Eat my pussy!” Buffy dug her fingers into his hair while she rode his face.

Spike nipped and suckled her dripping slit, then caught her pulsating love button and gave it a tug while sliding two fingers into her gripping passage.

“Right there—right there!” Buffy howled, her hips moving along with his mouth. She gripped his hair, and Spike felt her quaking before she christened him with her sweet juices.

Spike continued clearing away the sticky cream until he had his fill. With a parting lick, he lowered her legs before standing from the floor and licked his fingers for good measure. He eyed the clearly sated woman slumped in the chair in front of him.

“I don’t say this very often, but you were delicious.”

Spike leaned over and placed a lingering kiss to her lips, which turned fiery when she moaned, and he cupped the back of her neck.

The pair shifted to get closer, till their chests were flush. Spike tugged her closer. Buffy stood and pushed him back into the dressing table. He spun her around, grabbed her hips, and lifted her up, placing her on the surface.

Spike shifted into position to enter his now re-hardened shaft of Cupid into the gates of heaven, but before he could enter, a quick knock on the door and someone entering stopped him.

“Mr. MacCloud, you’re wanted on set in ten min—oh!” Andrew’s eyes widened at the sight before him, his clipboard hitting the floor with a thwack.

“Andrew! Sod off! Don’tcha see we don’t need an bleedin’ audience—”

Spike’s ranting was cut short by Buffy placing her hand to his cheek and guiding his face back to her.

“Spike, an audience is actually a groovy thing.” Buffy bit her lip, appearing to try to get her point across without actually saying it.

When her meaning finally hit home, he tucked his tongue behind his teeth, giving her a wolfish grin.

“Andrew, give us five, and tell Warren ‘m doing my scene with Buffy not Dru,” Spike called over his shoulder.

Andrew sputtered as he leaned over and picked up his clipboard. With a stuttered, “Yeah, cool.” he left, closing the door behind him.

“Sure ‘bout this, kitten? Shaggin’ on scene is a lot different than fluffing?”

“Totally.” She pulled him into a heated kiss, rubbing her buttery snatch against his pulsating love muscle. After grinding against each other for several passes, Buffy pulled away.

“Mmm, save it for the camera.” She grabbed his pride and joy, gave it a squeeze, before sliding off the table and turning to primp for their scene. When she was done, she placed her hand in his and led him to the set.

When they arrived, all eyes turned to the pair, as they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. Spike had never been so hot to trot for a girl before, and he couldn’t wait to shag her.

Warren went to approach Spike, most likely to tell him this was a bad idea or some rot, but he apparently got the hint not to say anything when Spike gave him a don’t-fuck-with-me look.

“Um, so everything’s all set, Spike.” Warren gave him a wary smile and headed over to Jonathan, who was manning the main camera.

Spike, still holding Buffy’s hand, led her to the freshly remade bed. He turned her to face him and wagged his eyebrows.

“When Warren calls action, prepare to be shagged six ways to Sunday.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Buffy wrapped her hand around his rodzilla and gave it a playful squeeze.

Spike gasped and keeping his eyes trained on her, hollered, “Warren!”

“Is everything a go?” Warren nervously questioned Jonathan.

“Give me a sec,” Jonathan whined as he was looking in the eyepiece of the camera.

“This is going to be amazing. Like if the brave Luke Skywalker and beautiful Princess Leia consummated their forbidden love on film. Well, that’s if George Lucas did porn,” Andrew sighed as he watched the couple groping and kissing, catching a stray tear with the loosened end of his apricot ascot.

“Okay, let’s shoot this—ACTION!”

Author’s Notes:

I got my 70’s slang from here: http://www.inthe70s.com/generated/terms.shtml

Freddy Mercury was the lead singer of Queen

If you’re not familiar, “blow” and “snow” are references to cocaine. A “bump” is snorting a line.

Harmony on roller skates was a homage to Roller Girl from Boogie Nights http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boogie_nights

Bomb pop it’s a Popsicle usually sold from Ice-cream trucks. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bomb_Pop

Pro-job: big thanks to Dampersandspoons for that word!

Okay, if you want to see where I got half the names for penises it was here:http://tonguetiedtim.com/slang-words-for-penis I was practically crying ‘cause I was laughing so hard from this list!!!

This is another fabulous site for words http://www.dirtyslang.com/

Star Wars was originally released in May 25, 1977. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Wars

Chapter End Notes:
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