Hey little sister

"So, you'll be good now, no fighting, no wild parties, and call us at least every other day."

Joyce Summers quickly kissed her daughter and step-son on their cheeks, waved a cheerful goodbye and rushed to the cab that stood waiting to take her to the airport. She and her husband would finally be going on their honeymoon. Three years after the marriage, true, but that was the price you paid when you met in the middle of your life and had teenagers to deal with. Now both kids were old enough to handle the home themselves, on the brink of adulthood as they were, and the couple could relax and enjoy a late summer in Europe.

Buffy Summers waved back with pounding heart. Very much aware of the presence behind her she tried to concentrate on her mother's face disappearing down the road, her mind a jumble of thoughts.

Her mother and step-dad would be gone for two weeks. She would be alone with her step-brother. The mouth-watering, sex-on-legs-body that belonged to her step-brother!

Ever since she’d met him she’d been in awe of the slightly taller boy with the self-assured attitude, at that time beginning to grow into his body – and oh, boy what a body that had turned into. She wouldn't survive this last stretch of summer, she was sure of it. The only way she'd managed to live her daily life for the last three years as if there was nothing between them was because her mother and her step-dad were around. And on the occasional days they hadn’t been present there had always been school, friends, and other humdrum things that she could focus on during day-time.

Living in the same house as the person you secretly think of when you bring yourself off every night was not the easiest thing in the world, but she'd managed more or less. What on earth would she do now when there was nothing to distract her from his presence? No school, most friends were away and her parents had just left. Sure, he’d be leaving soon as well to an apartment on the campus he’d be moving into when the semester started. But that was at the same time their parents would be back. In other words, two whole weeks from now.

The week after that she herself would get busy, starting her internship as a photographer for the local newspaper. Opting out of higher education, knowing she actually had a talent, she’d jumped at the chance she’d gotten to prove her worth. She’d be paid a really small salary which was why she would be staying at home at first. Later she would hopefully get a real job there with a real salary and be able to move to her own place. Or, if that didn’t work out, find something to tide her over until next term and go to the university for a couple of years to improve her credentials.

While Buffy was looking forward to trying out her skills as a photographer she was sorry that Spike would be leaving. Even though she understood that he’d have it easier living near campus rather than doing the 20 minute drive every morning like he’d done his first year it didn’t make it any less sad. She’d miss him. She’d miss the way he smiled when he teased her as if she’d always been in his life as a younger sibling. She’d miss the way he sometimes glanced at her appraisingly as if she was a girl he might like. She’d miss his earnestness and his kindness that intermingled with his cocky attitude. And she’d miss the soft side that he only showed to those he trusted. She sighed a bit sadly and turned towards him.

As his step-mom got in the cab, Spike Pratt had taken a few steps back, sitting down on the porch and lighting a cigarette. He normally didn't smoke a lot during the day, but right now he needed something for his nerves.

His father, Rupert Pratt, had already left this morning, saying he'd had some things to organize at work and would go directly to the airport. Now the other adult in their home had left as well and while he loved them both very much, it was a real treat to be left without parents for a couple of weeks.

The only problem was his step-sister.

The golden girl that he'd fallen in love with almost four years ago.

After his mother had died of an illness, Spike had mourned, but eventually tried to go on with his life, but his dad had taken it harder, cutting himself off emotionally. So when, several years later, his dad had begun to smile again Spike had welcomed the news that he’d met a woman.

When Rupert finally brought his son along for dinner at her house, Joyce had greeted them both warmly and then introduced her daughter, Buffy. A girl about to turn 15, she stood beside her mom and peeked shyly at the male visitors from behind a veil of honey-colored hair. The green eyes held a subdued sparkle that caught his attention like nothing else had done before. She was gorgeous. He was only half a year older and aldready considered himself a connoisseur of women, but this girl was blowing them all away.

His heart was lost at that first moment, and he'd never recovered it. Now, he was 19, she was 18 and they'd been living together for nearly three years. As they’d matured, his attraction for her had only grown. Spike had desperately tried to focus on other girls, anything with breasts and a smile were a target for his eyes. He flirted and made innuendos to most females that crossed his path, anything to try and take away the erotic thoughts that assaulted him every night about his long-legged, tanned sister.

He'd lost his virginity at 17, almost a year after he and his dad moved in with the Summers girls. It had been with a woman who was eight years his senior. Drusilla had been a friend’s cousin. It had been pleasurable, and he'd been with her for several months before he realized that nothing they did could ever chase away his thoughts of Buffy. Any sexual feat he tried with the experienced woman didn't turn him on half as much as the thought of his little step-sister taking a shower in the bathroom across the hall. When he’d broken it off, Drusilla had just smiled and said she’d always known she’d only had him for a loan and hoped he’d be happy. He was relieved she didn't resent him.

A couple of months after the break-up he turned back to dating. Or rather, in between the incessant flirting, he’d tried a couple of one-night stands, one of which had been a disaster. The blond girl that he’d gone home with simply because he’d been very drunk and he thought he could pretend it was Buffy if the lights were dim, had been a total nut case. She had thought they had a real relationship and it had taken him several weeks afterwards to make her understand that he was not interested in anything more after that night.

That had been the last time he’d had sex with anyone. Oh, he’d kept up appearances. But no matter how hot and heavy things got on the dance floor, or in a dark corner under the stairs, or in his car, he never let it go further than heavy petting. While trying not to leave the girls totally unsatisfied, he wasn’t willing to go all the way any more. The thought of Buffy still haunted him.

Spike took a drag on his cigarette, looking at Buffy's shoes as she stood with a faraway look, staring down the road where her mother had vanished. Today she wore plain sneakers with short socks. His gaze travelled up her legs, those smooth legs that disappeared under one of her usual short skirts that had been too short to be decent when she had been 15, and that still was too short now that she was 18. The pale blue fabric lay smoothly over her ass without any panty lines showing. He felt himself harden slightly while pondering what kind of panties she wore – if any. His gaze continued upwards to her back that was mostly bare due to her white halter-top. He stiffened even more as he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Finally he tried to catch a glimpse of the beautiful column of her neck behind the ponytail and wondered if her skin there were as soft as it looked. He was lost in admiration for the sight in front of him, and when Buffy finally turned around, her own green ones widened slightly at his frank appraisal before he remembered to look away.

He swallowed and looked down at his hands. The cigarette was almost done and he put it out in the flower pot that Joyce had put on the porch for him to use as an ashtray. He heard Buffy clear her throat, then as she walked past him she said, "I'm calling Willow. She said she had a busy week, but maybe she’s free today."

"Yeah, ok." He felt jittery and his hands itched already. How was he going to be able to be around her all day - several days - without touching her? "I think I'll take a run."

He jumped up and ran up the stairs to his room. It was the first room on the right hand side of the hallway, just across from the bathroom - and right next to Buffy's room. He’d spent many evenings listening for sounds and sometimes catching moans from the other side of the thin wall. He knew she masturbated most nights and sometimes he’d manage to time his own special moments to catch hers and jerked off while imagining it was him she thought about. Those were the times he came the hardest.

He took off his clothes and threw them on the dark grey coverlet on his bed. Grateful that he wasn’t fully hard any more, he put on running shoes, black shorts and a grey t-shirt. He ran down the stairs, shouting, "I'll be back in half an hour or so," towards the living-room where Buffy was on the phone.

"That was Spike. He went on a run," she said into the receiver, crossing over to the window as the door slammed shut. "So, what are you doing this afternoon? We can watch some TV?" Buffy twirled a lock of hair between her fingers as she watched the backside of Spike disappearing down the road and her voice became almost pleading “Say you'll come over? Really? That's great! We'll order pizza and - yeah, I have some movies we haven't seen yet. See you later."

* * * *

Sitting on the shaded back porch with a glass of iced tea some 40 minutes later, she was startled out of her daydream of a naked Spike to an eyeful of the real, but clothed one, as he came jogging into the yard.

As she was sitting on the far end of the porch, he didn't notice her at first, coming up to the steps that led up to the kitchen door. He stopped to catch his breath and took off his t-shirt. His body gleamed with sweat. He wiped the shirt across his brow and then threw it on the banister of the steps. Lifting his hands up in the air, he stretched out his entire body and Buffy put a hand to her mouth to keep from gasping as the muscles on his abdomen rippled in the sunlight. His next stretch however had her biting her fist. He took his arms straight down and bent over, stretching the back of his thighs which flexed as his head reached his knees. [Ooooh, bendy!] flashed through Buffy’s head and when his ass half turned towards her she wondered how those firm globes would feel under her hands if she were to grab his butt. She had to squeeze her trembling thighs together as her panties grew moist.

When he was done, he shook out his limbs and, still breathing heavily, walked up the steps, almost stumbling on the last one as he noticed her for the first time. He hesitated, but then turned towards her with a grin. "Skulking in shadows, are you now?"

She blushed, waving her half-full glass, and said in an unsteady voice, "Hot… thirsty..." She faltered as Spike approached her and when he stretched out his hand she croaked, "What are you doing?" He smiled as he took the glass from her. "Yes, I'm thirsty from my run. Nice of you to offer," and took a couple of gulps from it. Buffy’s eyes were riveted to his Adam’s apple that bobbed as he swallowed and she felt an urge to lick it. She shook her head sharply to dispel the traitorous thoughts and snatching back the glass, gave him an evil eye and snorted, "Make your own, you lazy bum".

He just smirked and turned around. Her gaze was fastened on his glistening back as he went to the kitchen door and disappeared into the house.

When she finally followed inside she heard water running in the bathroom. Trying very hard not to imagine what he looked like while he showered she busied herself with cleaning up a bit in the living room. [Housework; boring, but sometimes effective], she thought wryly to herself.

Willow came over an hour later and Spike came down when he heard the doorbell. Hearing that the girls were planning to make a pizza-and-TV event of the afternoon, he took one look at the movies they had chosen and fled out the door, mumbling something about seeing male friends with better taste. Buffy and Willow just laughed at him and settled down on the couch.

When Spike came home around nine o’clock, the girls had finished with the movies and were sitting on the couch talking quietly. They fell silent as he threw himself down in an armchair, snatched up the remote and started to channel-surf. He noticed they seemed rather subdued and kept sneaking glances at them from the corner of his eye.

Willow whispered something in Buffy’s ear and then stood up and said she had to leave. As they were saying their good-byes Spike waved casually to the red-haired girl that waved back, hugged Buffy and left.

As Buffy came back in he glanced at her briefly before looking at the TV. "Everything's all right with Red?"

"Yes, but she has some relatives visiting, so she won't have any more time to spend with me this week." Buffy pouted a bit. Spike had a feeling that was not the whole story but let it go. He glanced at her once again and became entranced with the lip that stuck out. He shook his head. [Sister, you nit-wit, she's your sister!]

Buffy went back to the couch and they watched the screen flicker from program to program until Spike turned off the TV. "Nothing on. You wanna play cards or something, poker maybe?" He was bored and itched to do something. Playing cards would occupy his thoughts and kill some time before it was time to go to bed. Before it was time to lie there, listening for sounds from her room while wanking off... Making a face he stopped that train of thought. Damn his one-track mind!

She looked surprised. "Poker? I don't know how to play poker. Besides, I don't have any money."

He smiled. "I'll teach you. And we don't have to play for money. We can play for something else..." he thought for a while and got an idea, what if he could tease her a bit, why should he be the only one uncomfortable "...we can play poker-truth-or-dare." [Maybe I can ask her what she thinks about when she lays in bed at night…] Feeling a distinct stirring in his jeans he wondered briefly if this game might be a bad idea. Then he mentally shrugged, it was just a game after all.

Buffy snorted "Truth or dare? What are you, like, 12?"

Spike lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, we can play for money instead if you want to. You can write little IOU's if you don't have any cash. I won’t demand too much of an interest of you." He winked at her.

Buffy thought about it for a moment. Willow had just told her that her old boyfriend Angel had officially hooked up with Cordelia, the girl he’d been cheating on her with. Even if she didn’t miss their relationship, she still felt the sting of his betrayal whenever he was mentioned in the same situation as Cordy. Right now she wanted to think about anything else. Playing cards and asking silly questions actually sounded childishly fun. She wouldn't risk owing money and maybe she could ask some things she had really wondered about Spike… "Yeah, why not? Truth or dare sounds good."

He got up and fetched a deck of cards while Buffy got them drinks from the kitchen.

They sat down at opposite sides of the coffee table, Buffy on the couch again while Spike moved the armchair to face her. He explained the rules and wrote down how much each possible hand was worth.

Buffy nodded and finally said, "So, how should we play this? The winner gets to ask truth or dare or what?"

He grinned. "How about we make it interesting? If the winner has a hand worth two points or more than the loser he-" "Or She!" Buffy interrupted. "Yeah, he or she can ask for two truths or two dares!"

They agreed and started playing. The first hand was won by Buffy who cheered. "All right, Spike, truth or dare?"

He hesitated at her teasing voice, wondering what he’d gotten himself into, but replied, "Truth."

She looked at him searchingly, having decided that this was probably one of her last chances of finding out more personal things about Spike before their lives would separate. One of the things she’d heard whispered in the girls’ restroom at school was that her brother had been with all the cheerleaders and most of the football-players’ girlfriends. She’d been dying to find out how many of those rumours were true. [No time like the present, Buffy, don’t be shy now.] "How many girls have you had sex with?"

He blinked, a bit taken aback that she started out so very personal. He’d somehow taken for granted that he would be the one doing the lewd questioning and she would be embarrassed and then tell him to do silly things.

He knew she knew about Drusilla. Everyone had known about her, even his father who had not been pleased. More recently she had probably seen him flirt a bit in public – not to mention the fact that his reputation was that of a player. He fidgeted a bit, not knowing if he wanted to let her know how few there had actually been or if he wanted her to believe there'd been too many to count. [Just tell her the truth, you moron, you don't have to speculate so much then.]

"Three."

She looked surprised. "Only three? But-" She bit her lip. All those girls she'd seen him laugh with, whispering in their ears, all those rumours...

"You want details, you need to win some more." He smirked at her and dealt another hand. This round was won by Spike and he beat her by three points. "All right, missy, what'll it be?"

"I'll take a truth, thank you."

"You mean you'll take two truths?" he pointed at the list of scores and she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Ok, two truths!"

"How many have you been with and how many positions have you tried?"

Buffy shot up from the couch. "That's none of your business!" Her face was flaming red and she trembled in embarrassment.

"Why? It's ok for you to be up close and personal but not for me?" he frowned at her.

She sat down and looked down at her folded hands, her face still burning. After a while she murmured, "One."

Spike pursed his lips. "One guy? That would be Angel, I guess?"

She nodded. Angel had been her boyfriend for all of six months, and she'd finally gone all the way on their six-month anniversary. It had seemed like the thing to do and she’d gotten tired of bringing herself off while thinking about someone she knew she couldn’t have. They'd broken up the week after when she found out he’d cheated on her. It had been slightly more than a month ago.

Spike wasn’t surprised, he knew she’d dated that overgrown bully, but still felt a strange tug at his heart as he had confirmation she’d felt another guy’s hands on her body. The fact that the lucky guy had been a stupid jock that wasn’t worth licking her shoes didn’t make it any less painful. "And the answer to the other question?"

"That would be the same answer." He could barely hear her whisper.

One guy, one position? His throat felt dry. Oh, god, the things he could show her. It had probably been the plain missionary for the first time since that tosser Angel had never struck him as particularly generous or imaginative. He wondered how she would look if she were on top, riding him into oblivion with her tits bouncing and her long hair flowing. How would she sound if she was being taken from behind, standing on all fours, his hands on her hips? How would-

He cut off his thoughts as his jeans became uncomfortable and the silence thick.

He cleared his throat. "Your turn to deal."

She glanced up at him and he tried to keep his face impassive.

Buffy felt mortified. Inexperienced and naive. He probably laughed at her. Sure, he'd only been with three girls, but that, Drusilla, had probably shown him plenty of things. She picked up the deck, shuffled and dealt.

They concentrated hard on their cards, neither wanting to lose, feeling just as invested as if they were betting money. As they showed their hands Buffy held the winning one, but only with a small margin. She just looked at her step-brother.

"I'll take dare," Spike said.

She smiled with an evil glint in her eyes, wanting to dispel the serious mood that hung over the room. "I dare you to sing a Billy Idol song." Spike's bleached hair had on occasion been the subject of teasing jibes of plagiarism in relation to the singer. The fact was, Spike liked the British rock singer, but hadn't had him in mind when he started to bleach his own hair and usually exaggerated his wounded assurances that his hair was totally different and much cooler anyway.

This time he went along with changing the mood to a more playful tone. "You're on, baby."

Buffy shivered in anticipation [Ok, this was probably a very bad idea].

They searched their record collection and found one of his CD's. Spike put it in the stereo and as the first notes to ‘White Wedding’ boomed out of the speakers, he jumped up, grabbed the TV-remote to act as a microphone and started dancing in place while belting out the lyrics.

Buffy was mesmerized. Billy Idol had nothing on her brother. He was hot, he was charismatic, and he was- he was her brother! The lyrics filtered through her shame-filled haze.

Hey little sister what have you done
Hey little sister who's the only one
Hey little sister who's your superman
Hey little sister who's the one you want

[Idiot, stop lusting after him!] She tried to ignore her damp panties and to tell herself that there was no reason to get exited. Her body wasn’t listening however, and she squirmed as her nipples became hard and sensitive, her entire skin feeling too hot and constricting and she was almost drooling. A very uncomfortable night loomed ahead of her in bleak certainty.

When the song ended she swallowed hard and forced herself to smile and applaud merrily. Spike smiled and made a bow, flushed with the exertion as he sat down in his chair.

Buffy lost the next round and took truth again.

“What did you and Red talk about that made you so serious?”

Buffy made a face. “She told me that Angel had hooked up with Cordelia, officially this time.”

He frowned. “Officially?”

She just shook her head and muttered, “It doesn’t matter.”

Spike decided to let it go and they played another hand which he promptly lost. He groaned and said, "I think you're cheating! You said you didn’t know how to play poker!" Buffy just laughed triumphantly and pointed to their list of hands. She'd won by four points. He shook his head ruefully. "I'll take truth this time, don't want to risk having to sing a boy-band song or something girlish like that."

She looked at him intently and blushed. [Well, he did say I could ask…] Gathering her courage she asked, "How many positions have you tried and which one did you like the most?"

He stared at her in shock, feeling all the blood in his body going to his groin as he looked at her red face and wide eyes. "You don't want to ask a question like that!"

Still embarrassed and red in the face, Buffy felt peeved. Why did he try to back down now? "Why not? You said I would have to win to get details.” Chin coming up she gave him what she hoped was a stern look and demanded a bit firmer. “I want details. Now."

Spike thought she looked adorable, still clearly uncomfortable, but trying so hard to be suave. He started to think. How many positions? Well, he’d covered the basic ones. Let's say those were five. Then there were the small variations, they might not count as new positions. He had tried a couple of strange ones, that might make the count seven, but which one had he enjoyed the most?

He scratched his neck hesitatingly and cleared his throat, acutely aware of his erection and hoping she didn’t notice in the dim light. "Around seven positions I guess."

"Seven!?" She squeaked, eyes going wide and before she could stop her tongue blurted out "What were they?"

He shook his index finger at her playfully and she flashed to an image of her bending forward and sucking on it. "Now, now. You've already asked another second question, I won't answer three questions."

She felt brave at his light-hearted attitude and pouted. "But I wanna change my question. Instead of which one you liked best, I want you to describe the positions."

He swallowed and looked at her from half-closed eyes, his throbbing erection making it difficult to think. [That pout will be the death of me.] Knowing he was probably making a mistake, but telling himself that he would be able to stop at any point if things were getting out of hand, he decided to answer her. Remembering his original idea of making her uncomfortable, he wondered if he could make her so flustered she fled.

"Alright, little sister." She widened her eyes. They rarely called each other brother or sister except when they were mad at each other. This time it was clear that he was reminding them of their relationship as they were closing in on a line they had only skirted briefly until now.

He stood up, walked around the table and sat down beside her on the couch. She flinched as he leaned in close that she had to force herself from leaning away. His eyes were steady on hers as he whispered, "First we have the missionary style, with the girl underneath. I’m guessing you’re familiar with that one?"

She couldn’t look away from his gaze and nodded, fascinated, but unsure of whether she’d made a wise decision when she’d changed her question.

He smiled slightly and continued. "Then there’s the one where both are standing up, the girl's leg would probably be around the guy’s waist, preferably this would be with the girl against a wall or some furniture for some leverage."

Buffy widened her eyes, wondered if he could hear her panting, she was becoming very turned on by his descriptions and the wrongness of the whole situation.

“Then there’s the one from behind, and there you could discuss if it’s one or two, ‘cause there’s the doggie style or lying down.”

A small frown on Buffy’s forehead stopped him and he tilted his head. “You do know what doggie style is, don’t you?” When she blushed and nodded he waggled his eyebrows at her a bit, again telling himself he was only doing this to make her disconcerted, not because he was so turned on he couldn’t think straight. “Seen it done or read about it?”

She was taken aback a moment, then decided to turn the tables on him. “You’ll have to win to ask me a question like that, big brother.” She almost spat the last word with as much spite in it she could muster, angry at him as she realized he was taunting her but also angry at herself for feeling so embarrassed.

He swallowed, groin pulsing with lust. Where was he? Oh, right, counting positions.

“Then there’s the one with the girl on top. That could also be one or two, ‘cause she can sit with her face forward or backward. Now, that was either four, five or six, depending on how you count.”

He cleared his throat but plowed onwards even though he desperately wanted to grab her by the arms and throw her down with himself on top, grinding his erection into her soft flesh. "There’s the cello, which is the girl on her back, but her ankles high up on one of the guy’s shoulders.”

He paused while catching his breath. Why was it so difficult to breathe? And why was he feeling so light-headed? Oh, right, because he was horny as hell and sitting about one inch from his desire. It didn’t help that she seemed just as excited that he was, red in the face and breathing fast he thought for a second that maybe she wouldn’t back away if he kissed her. The thought shocked him and realizing the situation was about to spin out of control he took a mental hold of himself. Best to wrap this up before he did something really stupid. He finished a bit rushed. “Then there're a couple of other variations that aren't other positions as such, but rather involve some props or some other way of doing things than the more vanilla ones."

They looked at each other, both flushed and uncomfortable, neither really knowing what to say after the sex-charged talk.

Spike leaned back slightly to take in Buffy’s entire figure. “Truth or dare, sis?” She glanced at the table but he stopped her with a silken whisper “Do we really need cards for this?”

She looked back apprehensively and said with cracked voice, “Dare.”

“I dare you to do what you were thinking about earlier today, when I took the glass from you on the porch.”

He knew she’d been thinking about something and wasn’t disappointed when she licked her lips and leaned into him. Sitting perfectly still he had a moment of confusion as she bypassed his lips, but groaned hoarsely when her hot tongue trailed along his throat.

As she sat back up he thought she was going to ask him ‘truth or dare’ in return, but she jumped up, took their by now empty glasses and escaped into the kitchen.

Buffy needed a breather from the charged atmosphere. That groan of his had thrown her and as she realized her hand was about to move down the front on his jeans she needed to flee before making a complete fool of herself. Standing for a moment at the sink, just breathing deeply, she tried to calm down. Then she refilled their glasses and turned around to head for the door, but bumped into Spike who’d followed her. One of the glasses sloshed, water spilling on the floor. She lost her footing and only Spike's hands on her waist stopped her from falling.

They stood perfectly still, Buffy thinking this would be a perfect opportunity to kiss. She was just about to lean forward when Spike, remembering suddenly that she’d actually fled the heated situation earlier, let her go and took half a step back. [I did what I intended and she has obviously had enough. No use in tormenting either of us further.] He felt a lump in his throat and wondered why he’d started this stupid game in the first place. She must be really disgusted with him.

"Ah, I... Erm… Let me get that." He felt embarrassed, hoping she didn’t notice the way his hands trembled as he took the glasses from her hands and after putting them on the sink, busied himself with taking some paper towels and wiping the floor. He hoped doing this mundane thing would discharge the air a bit.

Buffy stood looking at him, face flushed, heart beating and an ache forming inside her.

[He doesn't want me. And why would he? He's older and more experienced, and- For crying out loud, he thinks of me as his sister and even if he does looks at me sometimes, or even flirts with me, it's just because he's a guy. And he likes to tease me because he thinks I’m juvenile. He's not a pervert like I am.]

She felt hot tears filling her eyes and feeling ashamed of herself she went into the living room to put away the cards. There was no way she could face him now.

"I'm going to bed" she shouted towards the kitchen and went up the stairs.

Spike stood up and threw the wet paper towels away. He leaned over the sink with eyes screwed shut, wishing he could just follow her, pick her up in his arms and kiss her breathless. Pressing her against him, bending her over the railing on the stairs, or maybe even throwing open her door and jumping her in her own bed. Do any of those things he wanted so much to do.

Sighing quietly he cleaned their glasses and decided that a cold shower would be necessary before bed tonight.

* * * *

The next morning they both awoke at roughly the same time, neither feeling particularly refreshed. When Spike heard Buffy started fixing breakfast in the kitchen he decided to go down and help out. While Buffy had many appealing qualities, cooking wasn’t one of them. To be frank, he wouldn’t be surprised if she burned the coffee. Slightly apprehensive of her mood today he got dressed and went down. Buffy was putting out plates and greeted him calmly but guardedly.

A bit subdued, they ate together, pretending nothing had happened the previous day. They read the newspaper, bickered about who was having which section of the paper first, then who was going to do the dishes.

As the morning wore on they continued to play pretend, but by the time lunch approached they started arguing about what to have and tempers, having been stretched thin and frayed, finally snapped.

Buffy stormed into the kitchen with Spike trailing after. “Well, I had pizza yesterday, and I say we should call the Chinese place!”

“Sorry, pet, it’s my money that’s being spent today. You admitted you were broke until next week, and I don’t feel like Chinese today!” He stood in the doorway, frowning. He had slept poorly and felt frustrated. Now he just wanted to lash out at something. He didn’t really care what they ordered, just as long as Buffy didn’t get what she wanted.

“Just because I had a shoe emergency last weekend and don’t have any money for three more days you think you can decide everything. You’re just a big bully, you know that!” Her voice had risen to a shout.

“Yeah, and you’re whining and stupid.”

She turned around, glaring silently at him, all the frustration she felt blazing from her eyes. He caught his breath at the intensity of it.

She turned to the door, threw it open and went outside. He followed her as if possessed. When he finally caught her she’d reached the little secluded arbor with a small wooden sofa and two chairs where the family sometimes ate brunch on weekends or had coffee in the evenings. He grabbed her by her arm and whirled her to face him, shouting angrily, “Stop walking away!”

“Stop treating me like a baby!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. You don’t want me to have any say in what we eat and you didn’t tell me the whole truth yesterday!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You started to describe the positions you’ve done, but you only did some of them and then left off with a vague hint of others. That’s just a half-truth, and I’m sick of you treating me as if I’m so much younger than you are. I’m almost as old as you so you don’t have to censor me like a baby.” As she was yelling it, she felt silly and petty but couldn’t help herself. When his blue eyes narrowed and he grabbed her shoulders hard, she realized she’d probably pushed him too far.

He shoved her backwards until the back of her knees caught the sofa and she was forced to either sit down or fall.

He went down on one knee in front of her, his hands gliding down her arms and stopped, resting firmly on her wrists on either side of her hips. Leaning in between her legs that she inadvertently had separated, he hissed viciously, "You wanna hear everything? Oh, I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you every sexual thing I’ve tried if you think you can take it.”

He felt drunk with anger and lust and continued talking slowly and heatedly, looking her straight in the eye. “I think I had described around six or seven different positions I’ve had sex in. Another position I’ve enjoyed is 69, you know, mutual and simultaneous oral stimulation. You could expand that variation to any kind of oral sex, either giving head or eating pussy depending on whether you want to hear what I’ve done to others or what others have done to me.”

Buffy gave a choked gasp and realized her entire body probably blushed as a warm wave of desire crashed over her. Confused, still flushed and breathing rapidly from the anger she felt dizzy with excitement. Spike’s eyes held hers and she couldn’t believe that he was saying these things in broad daylight.

But he was continuing remorselessly. “Another variation would be bondage. Now, you can tie up your partner in most positions, but I have often preferred the missionary with the arms bound above the head. Because if your bonds are fastened, for example, to the bed frame, I could play and tease and position your legs in any way I wanted, even flip you over if I felt like it." She hadn't thought she could blush more, but she felt her face becoming even hotter as she imagined herself in that position.

"Then we can move to other stimulating areas on a body. Instead of sticking my cock in the girl’s pussy, I’ve sometimes fucked her tight little ass." She winced at his blunt words but he continued relentlessly. "Then there’re different props. For example a dildo that can be used alone or as dual stimulation for the girl. I’ve even had it used on me once." Buffy made a small sound at the back of her throat and thought she'd faint from the lack of oxygen as she hyperventilated and she felt her damp panties becoming soaked through.

He stopped talking and they looked at each other. Buffy’s whole body was shaking and she didn’t know what to do with herself. Spike felt a strange sense of relief. He’d finally told her too much. Sitting in a sun-drenched garden, out in the open, yet in their private little world here in the arbor, he’d been too blunt, too crass to take it back, to pretend it never happened. The lust-filled atmosphere was too heavy and obvious to wave away as something imagined.

He felt hard as nails and wanted to fuck her brains out and his resolve to keep his hands from her was wavering.

“So, are you satisfied with that answer, little sister?” He fairly growled through clenched teeth.

As she sat there shaking in arousal, not able to stop herself anymore, Buffy whispered unsteadily. "Not yet, but maybe you could help me." His eyes grew large and he thought his erection would burst through the zipper of his jeans as she bent forward and closed the space between them for a kiss.

He couldn't help himself, he took hold of her neck just as her lips grazed his. Buffy responded immediately with her hands on his shoulders, her lips moving in sync with his, her tongue probing his mouth. He increased pressure and was amazed when she matched his every movement. She tasted wonderful, sunshine and sweetness with a hungry eagerness barely kept in check.

She glided off the edge of the sofa and ended in his lap where he was half sitting, half kneeling on the grass. Instinctively Spike thrust his hips up, pressing his erection between her legs. She moaned and he thought he would burst out of his pants. He tore himself from her lips and before she had time to react he said hoarsely "Say ‘no’ to me, or I'm going to fuck you, Buffy. Right here, right now. I. Will. Fuck. You. Unless you say ‘no’ to me."

Her wild eyes met his and she demonstratively pressed her lips closed. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes for a second. How was he going to last for even a second with her? He took a last long look at her, giving her another out but she made the decision for him when she breathed, “Yes, Spike.”

Spike took a firm grasp of the bottom edge of her top and slowly drew it upwards. She lifted her arms above her head as he pulled it off her. Looking down at her plain bra, he felt like a wolf, looking at a tasty lamb. His eyes widened as Buffy moved her hands behind her and quickly opened up her bra, taking it off and leaving her upper body naked to his gaze.

With a deep rumble he gently traced the outlines of her breasts with his hands. She panted and pushed them into his willing hands, inviting him to expand his perusal. He explored the soft mounds thoroughly, finally reaching the hard little rosy buds that he gently pinched. Buffy whimpered and snaked down a hand between them and tried to open the top button on his jeans. Her hand at the wrong angle, she had some difficulties and Spike lifted her up on the sofa, stood up and ripped open the button and tore down the zipper in haste. She lay staring at him like a starving woman, licking her lips when his erection sprang out.

His nostrils flared and he had to force himself not to jump her immediately. Fighting for restraint he pushed the jeans off his legs and whipped the t-shirt off his body. He then bent forward, traced Buffy’s hips briefly with his fingertips and looked at her questioningly to give her yet another opportunity to stop him. She smiled and nodded so he grasped the zipper at the side, drew it down and then coaxed the skirt along her legs. Only her panties remained now and she quickly dispensed with those herself. Looking at him standing above her, his stormy blue eyes devouring her naked body she caught her breath. She felt butterflies in her stomach while he appeared unconcerned of his own nudity. [Is this really happening? Damn, how can anyone look that good?]

Suddenly he closed his eyes and cursed. For a second she feared he was having second thoughts about her, but then she heard him mutter, “Fuck, I’m stupid, I don’t have any condoms!”

Feeling frustrated and swearing silently Spike sifted through his options. [I can dress, go to the store, buy some condoms and come back. What if she’s changed her mind by then? Don’t I have any left in my room at all? When was the last time I needed any?]

His frantic thoughts were interrupted by her soft and slightly hesitant voice, “I’m on the pill. And I did use extra protection that one time.” His head jerked around and he looked into the big emeralds of her eyes and wondered what he’d done to deserve such a trusting look from this beautiful girl.

Thinking more carefully about it, he sat down beside her, drawing his hand through his pale hair a bit embarrassed. “Well, I’ve mostly used a condom, only didn’t a couple of times with Dru, but that was two years ago, and I have done check-ups once a year, just to be sure.”

Buffy smiled hesitantly. “Then it’s ok, isn’t it?” She raised her hand to his cheek and turned his face towards her “If you still want to?”

He groaned and wound his arms around her, putting his face against the soft curve of her neck while feeling her hands gently exploring his back. “You know I do, but – and I think I’m insane saying this – maybe we shouldn’t. Our parents are married. I am leaving in two weeks, you’ll be working and won’t have time for me. And if we do this Buffy, I don’t think I can let you go.”

He felt her shift a little bit. “I can make time if you can. Unless you think you’ll find someone at school.” Spike’s heated “Never!” made her feel very warm and secure. She continued, “Our parents- well, they’ll just have to deal. When you’re not living here and I’m earning my own money, they’ll have to deal.”

He kissed her then. Suddenly but gently. They let their lips mould against each other, just enjoying the sensation at first. Then Buffy’s tongue hesitantly asked permission to enter and he opened his mouth, letting the pink flesh explore his teeth briefly before putting his own tongue to work.

The kissed until they had trouble breathing, and then, as Spike let his lips explore the graceful curve of her ear, he lowered his hand and caressed her warm inner thigh. Buffy’s legs fell apart at his first touch there and he immediately encountered her wetness. They both gasped as two of his fingertips grazed her opening and then slowly made entry.

His thumb searched and found her small swollen clit and while his fingers were making shallow thrusts the thumb glided gently over the little protrusion. Buffy gasped in time with the movements of his fingers that gradually thrust deeper and deeper inside her soft folds.

A part of her wanted to just enjoy this moment, but she’d waited too damn long for this. “I want you. Please Spike, I want you now.” He felt himself grow even more aroused at her needy tone. He removed his fingers and grasped her by her hips and lifted her up so that she was straddling his lap. She clung to his shoulders for balance and while sitting on his thighs with his hard cock caught between their stomachs, Buffy continued to move in an almost languid rhythm, grinding herself against him.

She locked eyes with him and raised herself up until she felt his trapped cock spring loose below her. As Spike steadied it with his hand she sank down, letting the bulbous head find her entry, and in a slow but certain surge, impaled herself on him.

The feeling was even better than she’d imagined. Not only was he just right in size, forcing out a hoarse groan from her throat as she sank all the way down, but the way he looked at her with his blue eyes blazing as if she was a precious jewel. It made her feel both euphoric and excited.

Spike on his part was having problems. As Buffy enveloped him he thought he wouldn’t be able to hold back and it would all be over much too soon. But as she sat perfectly still, adjusting to him, he took a firm hold of his control and whispered encouragingly. “You can set your own pace now, love.” She smiled like an angel at him and he felt his heart constrict.

Starting with small movements Buffy glided up and down a couple of times experimentally. Getting the hang of it her mouth opened as in revelation of the pleasure that her position elicited and she began riding him with measured thrusts.

He leaned his head back and watched her above him, the sun glinting golden on her hair. Buffy’s movements became surer and faster, her breathing speeding up as Spike once again found her clit and started to play with it. Using lubrication from her juices he circled and teased the little piece of flesh over and over. She mewled his name and he thought he’d never heard a more delectable sound.

He was determined to hold himself as still as he could ‘cause he knew he wouldn’t last if he started thrusting. Only when he felt she was nearing her climax did he join her movements, gasping, “God, you’re beautiful. Come for me love,” while pressing just a little harder on her clit. And when she, with a moan, shuddered and her inner walls contracted around him he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He spent himself inside her with a shout.

Their movements slowed down and when they stopped, Buffy found his lips and kissed him thoroughly.

He looked at her in wonder as she smiled playfully at him and whispered. “Do you think you can show me the other variations in your bed now?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, I’ll show you everything I know, Buffy. And then, if you want to, we can explore everything I don’t know.” He touched her cheek. “With you, I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Her smiling, twinkling green eyes gave him all the encouragement he needed to take her by the hand and draw her inside their house for their continued explorations.


The end