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Authors Chapter Notes:
THERE IS THREESOMES HERE, not particularly good ones but I thought I'd post them anyway. Some Spike/Buffy/Angel and some Spike/Buffy/Faith and some masterbation fun :D


Go here (http://community.livejournal.com/nekid_spike/tag/henriettaholden) for more Spike fun from me (but heed the warnings).


Messenger



Spike knocked on the door, smoothing his ruffled hair down from the windy journey through the cityscape valleys of skyscrapers. He tucked the envelope under his arm and steadied the bike so as to not topple over again.

No matter how many creams, or clothes or recommended advice, Spike’s groins ached like an angry old man in a gay bar full of lesbians. His crotch activity was on par with angry old men at the moment. He couldn’t remember the last decent shag.

The door opened and Spike stood with his mouth gaping like a monkey following it’s introduction to lollypops. Spike delivered a packaged to Mr Angelus two days ago and had been received with a lustful eyeing.

And there was his delicious customer, all unwrapped from his fetching suits with his hot tight KC underwear holding him together at his front door.

“Nice to see you again, Spike. Do you mind if you come and set it inside for me? My hands are kinda sticky.”

Spike snitched a glace towards Angel’s chocolate covered hands, leant his bike against the wall then followed the delicious man-meat package inside.

There, chained to the bed in the centre of the little flat, was a golden woman with blonde hair and her breasts and pink folds covered in chocolate.

“Spike, could you take the item out from the package?” Mr Angelus disappeared into the bathroom and the sultry-sugary-minx peered at him with big pools of green.

“Come on, big bad, open up the mail.”

Spike had been shocked into silence, a first in his life. Carefully and doubtfully he ripped the top from the yellow envelope and slipped his hand inside.

“Oh my god.” Spike withdrew his digits and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Yep, honey, it arrived just on time.” The woman called out to Angel. “Well, why are you just standing there? Take it out and use it. Oh, clothes off first.”
Spike’s mouth just fished open and closed as he stared at the woman. “I don’t even know your name…and Mr Angelus is just in there.”

“It’s Buffy and yeah? So? We’re going to use it on him later.”

Spike’s eyes bulged and his clothes were removed in the fastest fashion possible. Ripping.

He removed the vibe from the package and knelt before her spread legs.

“I’m going to gobble up all this sweet, sugary goodness, love.” His leant over and, with his tongue, licked away one long strip of chocolate. Buffy moaned and arched into his withdrawn touch. Spike could only think this was a dream, a fabulously concocted dream thanks to his brilliant brain.

“You better not stop until I’m complete clean, Spike.” He nodded and pressed on the vibe and rubbed the chirring head to her clitoris.

Spike didn’t notice Angel enter with a chocolate slicked erection until his virgin hole was breached.

“HOLY FUCK.” Pain roared through Spike’s groin as he screamed. Angel rubbed Spike’s ass cheeks with both hands before rocketing back into him.

“You shit! You stopped.” Buffy had lain forgotten, panting in need as the vibe slipped away from her body. Spike hurriedly moved to fix her dilemma before Angel could slam back into him. The sweaty sheen of their naked bodies writhed together as Angel moved in and out of Spike who manipulated Buffy’s sugary sex into a heightened frenzy.

The yelling forewarned the subsequent coming and the coming and then the coming, the three triggering each other into unlevelled passion before exhaustedly slumping down on the bed.

Before he could fall asleep, Angel rolled over out of Spike to unfasten Buffy’s restraints. His bulk settled comfortable over both of his lovers, there sweaty skin rubbing deliciously against his nipples and worn out cock. He murmured before dropping back to his place behind Spike, “What are we going to get delivered next week?”



Lifeguard



The water dripped of his glistening pectorals and headed south to where all the ladies looked on a daily basis, their skin heating up in pleasurable ripples that weren’t created by the shining sun.

Spike watched the nummy goodies walk past him from his lifeguard seat high up in the air. He brought the binoculars to his sea blue eyes and watched a particular fine piece of arse, all golden and attitude dressed in a tiny red bikini, strut into the water.

He was a cocky shit. Spike decided she was his mark for the day; he’d have her in his bed before the sun set. Spike felt a tug at his leg, his replacement Angel. Spike climbed down and looked for the blonde before he handed over the binoculars. There she was, knee deep in the sea splashing the water at her breasts, the droplets falling down the bare plains of skin.

Then suddenly, he couldn’t see her. She was pulled back and under and Spike instantly threw the binoculars and his hat at Angel and dove into the water.

Pumping his long arms and pushing through the water, Spike swam steadily until he reached the spot the blonde went under. He reached beneath the sea and grabbed her shoulder and wretched her up from the depths.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

Spike stared at the spitfire spewing stares of fury in his direction.

“Ahh…saving you?”

“Do I look like I need saving?” She snapped and reached down into the water.
A dark haired woman rose from the water, her doe eyes and holier-than-thou glower cutting a swath into his Brandeis blue eyes. One hand held onto the Blonde Goddess’s while her other snaked up to stroke pert breasts beneath the bikini.

“What’s with the blondie, B?”

“He was ‘saving’ us.”

The brunette woman let go of Blonde Goddess to stride cockily towards the stunned Spike.

“I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up.”

A wicked smile came across Blonde Goddess’s face and Spike still hadn’t moved, the water rushing around their knees and surging up against his burgeoning groinal excitement. She placed her hand on his chest and rubbed at his abs.

“I’ve got muscles you’ve never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne, and you’d beg me to hurt you just a little bit more.”

The brunette slung her arm around the blonde girl’s waist and let her other hand follow the blonde to his tight lifeguard swimmers. Spike finally moved as two hands grasped his cock and their breasts became pressed against his chest as their little tongues flicked the shell of his ears.

“And you know why we don’t?” They said in unison. “Because you’re male.”



Illustrator



He loved Buffy with all his heart for giving him this opportunity. Struggling for years and years, he’d finally get the chance to have his work displayed in bookstores and libraries across the country. Spike picked up his inker and slowly let the pen trace the lines along the caricature’s body.

Spike looked up at his previous sketches and the mirror hung right in front of his desk.

Buffy, the love, had based her children’s character on him. He didn’t understand why, because he was the fucking biggest bad influence on his nephews (according to his sister Darla) but maybe that worked for kids. All he knew is that she told him she wanted a caricature of his get up on the front of her book and he was more than happy to oblige.

He wanted Buffy, there was no doubt about that, and having her picture him in her head as she wrote turned him on to no end. Thankfully, he didn’t actually do anything towards her. She was have hot kinky sex with an Asian judo teacher and proceeded to tell him about it every time they had a casual conversation.

Spike continually chastised himself for his sadomasochism; he even shared the art studio with Buffy’s ex, Angel.

His inker hovered over his cartoon self-portrait and Spike began to mutter to himself.

“Angel’s dull as a table lamp. And we have very different colouring. What the hell does ”

Spike's inker dropped the last touch of colour along the portrait. God he looked hot. And incredibly narcissistic.
His nummy high cheekbones looked incredibly drawn and his gorgeous tight body was so slim and muscled.
Fuck he was really hot. So hot his penis decided to congratulate itself on a job well done with a painful throbbing that needed to be dealt with instantly. He zipped open his pants and brought out the pulsing head, stroking gently as he looked at the plains of his portrait face and body. His breathing increased in sharp pants until his slicked hands were bequeathed with come.

He looked away from his engaging blue cartoon eyes, glad he chose that particular shade of blue and looked up around the studio. Buffy stood there, her hand down the front of her little skirt waistband, desperately rubbing and humping herself. Her eyes rolled back and Spike's smirk covered his face as he stalked over to her, his jeans hanging off his slender hips and unbuckled.

"What ya doin', love?"

"Were you...jerking off...to your own...picture?" She gasped as her fingers sped up and Spike's hand reached around to grab her ass and pull her towards him.

"Yeah, love, I was. And you liked that, yeah?"


She didn't answer as Spike's amazing refresh ability pressed into her speeding hand.

"What about your Asian judo guy?"

"She's just outside. You got a bed in here?" Spike's nimble fingers started to pinch her breasts and Buffy went off.

Buffy came down to find Spike passed out on the floor. Poor guy, too much excitement for one afternoon.






Ferryman



Spike’s paddle pulled smoothly out of the water and plunged back into the dark depths of death. He’d been ferrying the lost ones back and forth for countless millennia and he’d had jack shit of it. Bloody freaking gods misunderstanding a simply joke. It wasn’t like the goat’s blood was poisonous, bourbon hardly had an effect on the big undead ones, but the pantheon didn’t like his little ‘cocktail’ that was served with the sacrificial virgin during that summer’s feast.

The ghost he was currently carting across to the Elysian Fields was a beauty. Her soul shone, just like the other Heroes he'd transported, but brighter.

"So, love, what'd ya do to become a hero?"

"Saved the world a lot."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Slayer."

"Really? I was a vamp. Bloody good one too. Had this little thing with railroad spikes."

She didn't answer, her soul full of repose, peacefully taking in the dead sights.

Land of Orchards came into sight and the ex-Slayer sighed. She felt like home was just beyond the river of the damned. But for some reason, her incorporeal soul was drawn to this strange ex-vamp Ferryman.

“Hey, do you think I slayed you?”

“Don’t think so, love. Why’d you ask?”

“I can’t help but feel like there was something between us.”

The paddle rose from the sea of vengeful spirits and plunged back into the dark dark water.

“Doubt it. Been a servant of the gods for a very long time.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, don’t worry, this part’s almost over.” Her eyes looked up into the sparkling blue of his orbs.

The thunk of the boat docking against the Elysium banks broke their stare war.
Her ghostly body stood and walked up to Spike.
She declined her head at his goodbye nod and let her body float through his, their absence of hearts touching briefly before she went home.




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