“I swear to God, if you make me go in there—”
“Shut your gob and follow my lead.”
“Spike, we are not going in there! Those tires are fifty-bajillion feet tall! If you’re going to steal a car—”
“We don’t have time for your morals, pet! Now put this hat on and try not to look like an uptight bitch.”
Spike slammed a cowboy hat on Buffy’s head. He’d plucked it off of some girl standing at the ladies’ room near the concession stands. He looked over his shoulder, barely missing the scowl the slayer was giving him, to check the time on the large marquee. It blinked 7:48, right above a large movie screen that was currently showing some fat bastard in the audience who’d fallen asleep amid the raucous din of revving car engines and redneck squealing. The floating, animated text over his image read Yankee! Yankee! And the audience went nuts with laughter.
“Right, so we get to the garage in the next two minutes and we take the next truck while they’re gassing it up.”
“Hot damn! Mike “the Avenger” Huckleberry just cleared fifteen Dodge Rams! Aroooogah! Aroooogah!” The announcer’s thunderous voice sounded out over the loudspeakers.
Buffy rolled her eyes, clearly too high-class for this joint, but Spike was in too big a hurry for name-calling so he grabbed her by the belt buckle and tugged her into a run. He loved the girl, but she really didn’t know how to have any fun.
They crouched beneath the bleachers, slinking their way towards the garage. That’s where they gassed up the monster trucks before barreling out into the arena to smash and crash and make a lot of fucking noise for a lot of fucking fans who ate a lot of fucking hot dogs, it seemed, when Buffy slipped on a half-empty mustard wrapper that lay among the slew of trash beneath the audience seats.
“Oh, gross!”
Spike looked over at her, snickering when she tried to peel it off her shoe. “Are you serious?”
“These are brand new!”
“They look like the ones you always wear.”
“I always wear them because I always buy new ones when they get worn out. A girl in my position finds a pair of heels that don’t kill when you slay and she buys them for life. And ew! There are used condoms down here!”
“At least they’re taking the precautions to stop breeding, love. And it’s not that bad,” he said, leaning over a metal bar to check and see how many mechanics there were guarding the next truck. Two, one at the pump and one with his hand digging in the crack of his ass. Must’ve worn briefs. Poor sod. “You might catch yourself having a good time if you quit bitching for five bleeding minutes!”
“I’m not bit—” But he was already gone, and moving fast. She sighed and followed after him, tossing the cowboy hat on the ground. It was too big anyway.
So, Giles needed them to find something to break down the door of a mausoleum, way the fuck out in Podunk, America, just to get some stupid whats-it for a spell. No matter how many times she and Spike rammed themselves against it in an attempt to bust it down, it wouldn’t budge.
So, they fucked in the cemetery to waste some time. As they walked back to their hotel room, Spike spotted a billboard advertising a monster truck rally and well. You know the rest.
“So, Rick,” Spike said, digging his thumbs in his belt loops and rocking on his heels, doing one terrible, terrible Southern accent. Rick the mechanic—did he know that it worked out that way or was it coincidence?—eyed him suspiciously. “I’ll be takin’ over this here truck.”
Buffy rolled her eyes as she came up behind him.
Rick couldn’t figure out if he was supposed to end his shift or not in the middle of a show, but this guy looked pretty smart. “You’re taking it over?”
“Ah-yeah,” Spike said, nodding. “Needs a new timing belt.”
“I just checked it. On Tuesday.”
“Total annihilation! The Avenger has been avenged! Arooogah!”
Buffy sighed impatiently. Rick and Spike were going to take ages. She stomped forward with a bored expression and lifted her shirt. Rick was stunned still with a goofy expression. “Spike, get the keys.”
He smiled, yanking them from Rick’s belt as he stared at Buffy’s tits. “Didn’t know you had it in you, love.” He patted her on the ass.
One corner of her mouth twitched and that’s all Spike needed to know she was loosening up a bit. It wasn’t long before they were both saddled up inside the truck, and Spike was grinning excitedly.
“And now. The moment we’ve all been waiting for…”
Spike cranked the ignition and two large double doors opened up in front of them but neither noticed when they both grew enamored with the gadgets and interior of the decked out, jacked up Ford.
“Ooh, look!” Buffy started hitting random buttons.
“Don’t do that!”
“You’re the one who told me to loosen up!”
“The man of the hour!”
“Hey, what are you doing in my truck?” Shit! Spike and Buffy turned to face the very pissed off expression of a man who was almost seven feet tall wearing overalls, a goatee, a mouth guard, and American pride.
“Keeping the seats warm!” Spike shouted as he frantically looked around for the clutch, the stick shift, and anything else he could to get the damn truck rolling.
“Seven times the victor. Ladies and Gentlemen! Put your hands together!”
“Spike, he’s opening the door!”
“For The Boooooooooone Crusherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”
With a triumphant and giddy roar, Spike popped the clutch and slammed on the gas. They both lurched forward as it took off at breakneck speed, knocking poor Mr. Bone Crusher on his ass. Lights from cameras in the audience twinkled in the stands and Spike and Buffy’s eyes grew wide.
Before them was an arrangement of police cars, meant to be crushed, a ramp, a ring of fire, and something that looked a lot to Spike like a guillotine, though it had big smiley faces along the top.
He could only drive.
“Spike…”
“No turning back now, love.” He smiled so large his cheeks hurt. “Hold onto your butts!” He pressed the gas down.
Well. Buffy wasn’t just going to sit there. Not while he had all the fun.
Spike was laughing maniacally as the truck charged ahead. He circled the lot a few times before taking on the obstacle course. One, he didn’t know what the fuck to do. Two, he didn’t know what the fuck to do and three, the audience was cheering. For him!
“Looks like the Bone Crusher is trying to fake out the course! Is he stalling?”
When We Will Rock You sounded out from the speakers, Spike put his fist out the car window. “That’s right! Sing it you motherfuckers! Sing it! Sing—” The sneaky fox had unzipped his jeans!
“What were you saying?” She smirked. Slid her hand behind his fly. Spike blinked and ran into a barricade.
“Oh noooooo! Bone Crusher lost control!”
He put the truck in reverse and Buffy started stroking him. He shivered, his eyelids dropping a fraction and not really giving a shit that people were booing now. “What’s wrong? Can’t drive?”
He laughed a bit, his eyes wide, and he backed up from the barricade. What a weird sodding night this turned out to be. “I oughta wipe that grin off your face,” he said with a little smile. “Mind your manners,” he said with a wink. He always said that when she forgot about his balls.
She glared at him playfully and leaned forward, then jerked forward when he drove the truck up and onto a police car.
“Bone Crusher’s breakin’ the law!”
When Judas Priest’s Breakin’ the Law sounded out over the speakers, Spike almost blew a gasket in punk rocker glee and then almost blew something else when Buffy’s hot little mouth started kissing the tip of his cock. He drove over another police car.
A quick look in the rearview mirror told him that Rick or the real Bone Crusher had alerted the heat about a stolen vehicle. Two golf carts with tiny, inoffensive blinking lights came out into the arena. Spike put his hand on the back of Buffy’s head when she twirled her tongue around the tip and he drove over another police car, hissing when her teeth scraped him.
“Fuck, baby.” He really didn't mind.
“Mmmm…”
“Attention! Just received word that the driver of that vehicle is not, I repeat, NOT the Bone Crusher!”
Spike had never seen so much trash thrown at one time in his entire life. He laughed, drove over the remaining police cars and grunted with every one, smashing their hoods and bashing in their windshields while Buffy sucked his cock and pumped him with her hand. He saw when she slid her hand down the front of her jeans.
“They’ve found us out!” He turned the truck once he’d cleared the first course. Now there was the ramp to contend with.
Buffy released his cock with a plop and raised her head with a dazed expression to look out the windshield. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing, sweetheart.” He directed her head back to his cock, grinned, and readied the truck for the next obstacle. There were three golf carts now. He revved the engine. He’d have to haul ass to make the ramp and go through the ring of fire. He could do it. How hard could it be, reall—“Shit! Oh, shit, love…”
Her hand was moving faster, her tongue slid over him, warmed him up, then she took him all the way in her throat and he slammed on the gas pedal.
“He’s gonna do it! I can’t believe it! Who is this guy?”
Spike leaned back, clenched his jaw, and floored it as Buffy moaned and whimpered, slurped and sucked him into orgasm. The truck went up the ramp and he straightened his legs, threw his head back and shot in Buffy’s mouth.
“Fuck! Yes!” They hit the air and time seemed to slow down. He watched Buffy’s bouncing head as she drank every last drop. Turned his head right as they passed through the flaming ring, turned to the other side to catch the view of the flickering lights in the audience, and finally looked straight ahead at the ramp the truck was supposed to land on.
He smiled. They landed. The audience cheered.
“He made it! Hot damn, he made it! There he goes, rounding the corner. Oh! Oh! He barely missed that golf cart! And…where are they going?”
Buffy sat up with a drunken smile and wiped off her chin. She looked out the window, her body jerking left and right as the large truck made its way over another barricade and out into the parking lot. Spike smiled at her and stroked her cheek.
“Thanks. That might have been the best blow of my life.”
She giggled and slid out of her jeans. Spike turned onto the highway and burned rubber in case any cops were out. There weren’t yet. She straddled his waist, leaned to the side so he could see the road.
“My turn.”
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!