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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!
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
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! ;)
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!


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Okay. And away we go.

The table rattled back and forth. A plate fell to the floor, followed by a beer can and some spoons.

“Uhhhhh…….uhhhh………uhhhh……..” the gorgeous blonde mewled, throwing back her shiny golden locks. Strong, rough hands held her by the waist. The same hands that had maneuvered them to the table. The same hands that had bent her over the table, unzipped her skirt, tossing it aside and had pulled down her lacey pink panties until they were at her ankles. The same hands that had surveyed and grasped her perfectly pink arse before unzipping himself and thrusting into her.

The platinum haired man growled, his hips thrusting, sweat pooling under his t-shirt. “So sexy luv,” he muttered, kissing her on the shoulder. “So bleeding tight.”

His eyes were fixed on her locks. It was, still, somehow, perfect. Not a hair out of place as he bent her over his living room table, taking her doggy style. Just like he’d said he would. Fuck he loved watching that perfectly done hair bounce. It was a challenge. He wanted to mess it up, without ever having touched it.

“Shut up,” the woman said, gritting her teeth. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. With him. She’d only known him for a short while. She already knew he was the most infuriating human being alive. He chuckled through the thrusts, filling his hands with her still covered breasts, making her squeal.

Gonna come off soon, he promised himself, tweaking her nipples. He needed to survey her breasts in all their glory before worshipping them. with his hands and mouth. After this one, he thought.

“Been saving yourself for a real man kitten?” he whispered in her ear,with his silver forked tongue. Buffy scoffed. Well, that’s what she was aiming for. But really, all she did was moan softly. Smug bastard, she thought to herself.

“Don’t worry baby,” he cooed into her ear, giving it a kiss. Daddy’s here. Gonna give you what you want. Gonna make you scream.”

Spike knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t resist. Something about her made him want to stick it to her. Even while he was sticking it to her. He smirked at his own pun, before he came back to earth. Her heat was driving him crazy. She was sopping wet and virgin tight. She hadn’t been had in ages. The why was something he’d consider later. Right now he was too busy enjoying himself.

Son of a bitch, she thought, her eyes widening. Who the hell does he think he is?

“I’m……older….than you” she sneered, looking back at him. “Ten……..years.”
He’s at least twenty five, she had judged. A fucking kid. Prick.

“Fifteen,” he smirked evilly, his hand slapping her perfectly pink arse, making her howl with both outrage and pleasure.

Oh god. Twenty one. Too young. 21. Too fucking you…..Oh…..so good……fuck……..good.

“Old enough to know you’d absolutely love a good shag,” he chuckled. “Knew it from the moment I saw you.”

Spike didn’t know why he was trying to provoke her. But the angrier she got the more he wanted her. Buffy was outraged. At any other time she would have slapped him and told him he was a pig. But right now all she could do was close her eyes and moan as he took her with short hard jabs. His hands dug into her hips, so tight she was sure he was leaving marks. Not that she could bring herself to care right now.

"Gah," she whimpered, when he hit a particularly deep spot that hadn't been touched in years.

“Gonna cum soon kitten,” he growled. “You close?” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“Too…….uhhhhhhh………soon,” she squealed.

He grit his teeth. She wasn’t there yet. Normally Spike would think nothing of taking his pleasure and letting her have hers next. But not tonight. This was a matter of pride. Of honour. He’d made a promise to a lady. He’d just have to wait. With great effort, he began slowing down his thrusts.

“Don’t stop,” Buffy whined. Somehow she’d realized what he was doing through her fog of lust. Spike ignored her, slowing down ever more until he’d completely stopped, then with great effort pulled out of her.

“You…..” she gasped, even as he turned her around, making her look at him. “Bastard,” she ground out, her eyes blazing bolts of fury. Oh she wanted to scream at him and stomp her foot like a child. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to…..Spike interrupted her little internal monologue by engulfing her mouth with a fiery kiss.

Their mouths swallowed each other again and again, fighting for dominance even as his hands ran under her top, caressing her breasts. Suddenly, the searing passion, the kiss took a different turn. It became soft and sweet. They opened their mouths for each other, until their tongues were dancing. When Spike felt her relax against him, he pulled back. She tasted sweeter than anything he’d tasted, more than anything he could have ever imagined.

“Take it off,” Spike he said, fingering her top. It was half an order, but half a plea. So Buffy obeyed, but gave him a little glare to let him know he wasn’t calling the shots. She was letting him. Big difference. When she took it off, he bit his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot, blatantly checking out her cleavage. Buffy decided that it was time to make her move, trying to regain the power, by throwing him off balance.

“Like what you see?” she asked coyly, her hands fingering her bra strap. “Wanna see you,” he said, his eyes almost shy. “All of you.”

This time it wasn’t a command. It was a prayer. It took her breath away. Who was this man? And what was he doing to her?

Earlier this evening……….

Buffy Summers strode into the bronze, determined to have some a good time. God, everything looked so different. She hadn’t been here in……eight, ten years? She searched for her friends, spotted them in a corner and hurried over, her heels clicking annoyingly against the floor.

Stupid uncomfortable stylish shoes

“You made it!!!!!!!!” Willow Rosenberg exclaimed happily. Buffy grinned, hugging the redhead. “Honey, you’re squeezing her to death,” said Tara, Willow’s life-partner, seeing the grimace on the blonde’s face. Willow eased up, and Buffy exhaled loudly.

“That’s okay,” she wheezed, “I can always buy new lungs.” “Har har har,” Willow muttered, rubbing her friend’s shoulder. “Buffy,” Tara exclaimed, her eyebrows raised as if to emphasize her point, “you look…..great.”

And she did. Thirty seven year old Buffy Summers had spent the last few days, treating herself to a complete makeover. She’d didn’t look a day over thirty.

“Should I be worried?” Willow asked slyly, teasing her lover. Tara blushed, “Shush you,” she said, waggling her finger. “Maybe you should,” Buffy said to her best friend, sidling up to the brunette, putting her arm around her, resting her head on Tara’s shoulder. “I’m gonna steal your girlfriend,” she sing-songed, swaying Tara gently.

Willow gasped. “Bitch.”
“Freak,” Buffy muttered.
Slut,” Willow replied, slapping her on the arm, which made Buffy wince.
“Witch,” Buffy said, punching back, and Willow howled in outrage.

Tara giggled, then tried to stifle it. No dice. She looked at Willow who grinned and Buffy bit her lip. Suddenly all three women burst out laughing. “You guys are so weird,” Tara said, shaking her head as Buffy and Willow hugged yet again. “Quiet you,” Buffy said, “or I might steal your girlfriend.”

Willow and Buffy looked at each other solemnly before laughing yet again. “So freakin weird,” Tara said, grinning all the while.

"So…..where is everybody????” Buffy asked, looking around.
"Oh, I forgot.” Willow said, slapping her head with her hand.
“We were supposed to give the signal when you got here.”
“Not so hard honey,” Tara chided. “Yes dear,” Willow said which made Buffy giggle.
“That’s not what you said last night.”
Tara pursed her lips trying really hard not to smile, but failed.
“Shut up…..” she muttered, combing her hair from her red face with a hand.
"Women eh?” Willow said to Buffy cheekily.
“Gods Will…..you are so evil…..” Buffy mumbled, “I think I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Tara sighed ignoring the second half of the sentence,
“it’s like living with a teenager.”

“She means we’re messy and we do it a lot,” Willow explained to Buffy, who mock nodded her approval.
“The signal,” Tara said, folding her arms, looking extremely put upon.
Willow put her finger in her mouth then let out a wolf whistle.

"Buffy!!!!!!!!” Anya, Faith and Cordelia exclaimed, all together at a volume that made Buffy blanch. They had all appeared together, seemingly from nowhere.
“The first wives club is now in session,” Willow
intoned solemnly, waving a pretend gavel.

The first wives club is what Willow jokingly called the quartet. Cordelia, and Anya were
twice divorced and currently wrapping up their third. Faith and Buffy on the other hand,
had had first marriages bad enough to completely give up on the institution. The trio ignored the quip, surrounding the blonde.

"Whoa,” Cordelia said admiring the blonde’s outfit “this isn’t J.C penny.”
“Damn B,” Faith grinned. “Who knew there was such a hottie under those clothes.”
“I knew,” Anya said matter of factly. “I’ve said so many times.”
“Thanks Anya,” Buffy said, surprised at the compliment.

“Welcome to the club,” Anya beamed.
“The club?” Buffy asked, confused
“The Cougar club,” Anya said.
"The what club?” Buffy goggled.
“The Cougar club.”
"I’m……a……..Cougar??????” Buffy spat out with distaste. “Says who?”

“Society,” Cordelia said haughtily, tossing her hair. “We’re single, smoking hot and above 35. We're in the prime of our sex lives. The hot young guys love it.”
“And we love them,” Faith grinned. “Right ladies?”
"As often as we can,” Anya said, shooting Cordelia a conspiratorial look.
Buffy opened her mouth to react, but was interrupted.
“Oh my,” Faith said, pointing across the room, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “I think I found a keeper.”

Buffy followed Faith’s finger when all the way across the room, straining to see. When the
crowd parted she let out a little gasp when she got a good view of him. Shocking blonde hair that was gelled up. Gorgeous blue eyes and killer cheekbones. A sharp nose and soft looking lips that were curled up in a smirk. He was wearing a black tee that highlighted his sculpted chest and arms and low cut jeans. He couldn't be more older than 25. Oh I wanna, Buffy thought. I wanna bad.

“Mmmm….yummy…..” Cordelia purred.
“Come to mommy,” Anya added, sounding naughty.
“He is kinda cute,” Tara said, smiling wryly.

“You wanna?” Willow asked. Tara giggled, wrapping her arms around her lover.
“Could be fun?” she suggested.
“Could be,” Willow added, a bit hesitantly.
They’d talked about it, but she wasn’t quite sure.

“Oh come on,” Buffy protested, ignoring the heat building up in her body. “This was supposed to be our night. No guys. Am I right?”

That raised five collective brows.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Faith said winking at Cordelia who smiled back.
"Methinks the lady is a slut,” Buffy retorted.
Oh god. Is it that obvious? Can they tell?
“Oh how you wound me,” Faith said, blowing Buffy a kiss.

“Clive,” Cordelia said, leaning over the bar, gesturing to the male bartender. “What’s the deal with honey honey over there?”
Clive, the big, obese, 45 year old, pony-tailed bartender gave her an appraising look. Cordelia huffed, then slipped him a twenty.

“Mr blonde’s new. He’s british.”
He paused, waiting for the Tarantino reference to sink in.
Nothing. Damn kids. No wonder the country’s going to hell.

Cordelia raised a brow.
“Blonde. Brunette. Red head. Makes no diff. Never the same girl twice,” Clive muttered.

“Thank you Clive,” Cordelia said, giving him a sickly sweet smile, turning to her friends. “Shall we draw straws ladies?”
No one objected. Which means he passed ‘the test.’

“Count me out,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes, all the while trying to keep calm. “There are laws against cradle robbing.”

Faith picked a few straws from the table, pooled them together and bent one of them. She pooled them behind her back, mixed them up and offered it to the women. Cordelia came first, picking her straw. Then Anya, smiling. When Willow and Tara came forward to picking two together, Buffy’s eyes widened.

“You’re gay!!!!!!!!” she exclaimed accusingly.
“We reject that societal label,” Tara said, faux haughtily.
"We prefer the term open minded,” Willow added.

Faith turned to Buffy. She had two straws in hand.
"Come on B,” Faith said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Buffy tried to appear disinterested, but found that her heart was pounding. She looked at Faith, who's smile seemed to egg her on.

When all the women focused their eyes on her, she wilted.
“Okay fine,” she said, throwing her hands up, snatching up a straw.
Oh please be me. Please, please. Pretty please.

“Okay, let’s compare now,” Cordelia said excitedly. All the girls held up their straws, measuring them until all eyes went to the shortest one, held up by a blonde.

“Thank you, sweet baby jesus,” Anya whooped, tossing the straw over her shoulder.
“Hey, don’t bring the Lord into this,” Cordelia chided, fingering the crucifix that dangled between her bosom.
Buffy felt a weight grow in the pit of her stomach.
Great. Anya. Just great. She tossed away the straw, cursing the fates.

Faith sighed. Cordelia’s new found devotion to the lord was getting on her nerves. Religion is what happens when your second husband diddles the maid, she thought. And the babysitter, the nasty part of her mind added. And the secretary.

“This is more like Satan’s work,” Tara said darkly, giving Cordelia the stink eye.
“Oh poor baby,” Willow cooed, kissing her neck, feeling a bit relieved.

But none of the other girls protested. Anya would have first dibs. If turned down the rest of them were free to try their luck. In no particular order. The method had spoken. The method had been the same since high school. No arguments, no recriminations, no bitching. They had all sworn to abide by it. The method was law. The method worked.

“Well,” Anya said, adjusting her hair, “Once more and into the breach.”
“Unto,” Buffy said, sighing. “You mean unto the breach.”
"No,” Tara giggled. “She means into his breeches.”

The rest of the gang frowned, nonplussed.
"Because he’s british,” Tara added. “Breeches are like pants in Britain,” she further clarified.
“Well, that was…” Faith said, her voice trailing off.

“There’s ten seconds of my life I’ll never get back,” Cordelia bitched, opening up a compact. “Is that a new line on my face?” she said frowning.
“That was there yesterday,” Faith said, leaning against the bar, grinning when Cordelia gave a murderous look.

"You guys suck,” Tara scowled.
“Only if asked nicely,” Faith grinned.
“Whore,” Cordelia said, laughing heartily.

Buffy noted that Anya was already making her way over to him. Part of her felt relieved. She hadn’t even had a date in, what five years? But she wasn’t sure she was ready. But a much bigger part of her felt let down. Deep down, she was ready to break out. Ready to have fun. Ready to try something new.

Oh well, she thought. Another quiet night. Just me and the kitty.

Am I crazy cat lady now? she asked herself frowning. Nah, probably have a few more years, she thought, fingering the glass in her hand. Maybe I should get a dog?

Chapter End Notes:
Still with me I hope?

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