A/N: So this is me, trying to learn how to write sex scenes. I suck! Anyways, I know this sort of idea has been tried out before, but given that my cousin gave me the gift from this story, I thought it up and laughed my butt off. Simply had to write it, so apologies for my randomness. Please Review, and be kind, first timers tend to suck, or so I’m told. Take care all.
BSB has generously allowed me to post here, if you hate the fic, you may beat me with virtual reeds.
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Buffy Summers was late, horrendously late, and to her own 20th birthday party. Yet another shining accomplishment to add to what Buffy was positive had been the worst day of her life. Anything and everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong, spectacularly wrong. This was however, not terribly surprising given the Buffy birthday history. There had been her father’s abandonment on her 16th, her ex-boyfriend Angel’s complete psychological meltdown on her 17th, the terrible flu and fights with her mother on her 18th, and Riley’s charming exodus into the jungle on her 19th.
Today, her 20th birthday had gone no better than those before it: first someone had rear ended her car, leaving unattractive dents all over the back. Then she had spilled coffee all over her new cream-colored blouse at work in front of Principal Wood who had seemed less than impressed. The hideous stain had been assaulting the eyes of her students all day long, and her final meeting had ended in a yelling match between the estranged parents of one of her regular kids. The meeting had dragged on and on, and the additional stop to change her shirt had resulted in her forty-five minute delay in arriving at Willow and Tara’s.
Parking her car and jumping out Buffy rushed up the steps to their condo holding a bouquet of flowers. Knocking quickly she attempted to smooth her hair down with her free hand, hoping Willow and Tara wouldn’t be upset at her less than fashionably late arrival.
The door swung open, revealing the smiling face of her red haired best friend “Buffy, you made it, Happy Birthday, here let me take that” Reaching to take some of the packages held precariously in Buffy’s arms Willow continued "Awww flowers, thanks Buffy, Tara will love them”
“So sorry I’m late, day from hell, but now it’ll be better ‘cause I’m finally here”
“Come in, relax, can I get you anything?” As they entered through the foyer into the living room where everyone immediately greeted Buffy with inviting smiles, much to her relief.
“White wine please Willow, thanks” turning to Tara, Buffy smiled widely “Sorry I’m late”
“No problem Buffy I’m glad you made it, Happy Birthday, come and sit down”
Buffy entered the room and sat down next to Tara, they chit chatted about how Tara’s gallery opening had gone the week before, mostly Buffy enjoyed Tara’s soothing presence which aided her in an attempt to relax and enjoy the birthday festivities.
Buffy smiled when she heard distinctive laughter from outside followed by the sound of the sliding door opening. “Buffster! You’re here, how’s it going, on this fine day of your birth?”
“Hey Xand, Good. you? Where’s Anya?”
“She’s outside, watching the burgers, I just came in for some plates”
Buffy smiled at Xander, “Well I’ll run out and say hello then.” Excusing herself Buffy stepped out into the cool night, breathing deeply, trying to enjoy the evening despite her familiar position as the fifth wheel.
“Hi Buffy, happy birthday” Buffy turned her head to see Anya, perched next to the barbeque, holding a glass of wine, bearing a sympathetic expression on her face.
Sighing quietly, realizing Anya with her usual perceptiveness had read her like an open book, Buffy made her way over to Anya giving her a soft smile. “Hey Ahn, thanks, How are things?”
“Things are good, my entrepreneurial success is however, not what I wish to discuss this moment” Anya replied in her usual frank fashion, and Buffy braced herself for a tactless onslaught regarding her love life, or lack thereof.
“W-Well what is it you wanted to discuss?”
“You.” Anya’s assertive tone lacked its usual hard edge. “I know it must be difficult having everyone paired off, especially since Riley left. There must be somebody that you want, in that enjoyable carnal way?”.
“Yeaah…Spike from Faith the Vampire Slayer, maybe Billy Idol, but anyone based in reality? A big fat NO to that one” Buffy jested sarcastically willing the conversation away from its current depressing topic.
Anya smiled, almost secretively “Well they’re both very attractive, I imagine a carnal experience with either or both would result in many orgasms, but should you ever desire an experience within the realm of possibility I’d be happy to hook you up”.
“I know Ahn, and thanks, but those swingers parties just aren’t for me”.
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The dinner passed with pleasant conversations, and Buffy found herself relaxing more and more, enjoying the time spent with her friends, and doing her very best not to be coloured by her jealousy of the intimacy so innocently displayed before her. They were all sitting in the living room when Willow announced that it was time for presents to be opened.
Buffy sat curiously wondering what gifts were in store for her this year, blushing as she remembered Anya’s gift from the year before, a collection of vibrators to assuage the frustration of the transition into single life. It had been extremely embarrassing that she’d opened the gift in front of Xander whom she loved as brother, but it had been more embarrassing that she had intended to make good use of the gifts.
She sat patiently as they all took turns handing her elaborately wrapped gifts. She looked curiously at the shapes of them all, Xander’s was a simple box, as was Willow’s, Tara’s was long and rectangular, and Anya’s gift was very large, but very thin, almost as though it contained one piece of poster board. Eyeing them warily she accepted Tara’s first, unwrapping it with a flourish, she smiled when discovered a bead curtain made with crystal beads. Tara explained what each strand of a specific bead was intended to do, for concentration and relaxation and other practical states of mind. Deciding to hang it in the doorway separating the living room and her bedroom Buffy moved on to Willow’s gift. Buffy smiled as she unwrapped Willow’s meticulously wrapped gift of candles and tickets to see a band she loved play in LA in a month, which pleased Buffy greatly.
“Wow thanks Wills!”
Xander shoved his box into Buffy’s hands as she was speaking, and she looked at it curiously. It was exactly the size of a shoebox, quirking her brow at Xander, who was her usual shopping buddy. She opened it to find, a box, of shoes; shoes she had tried on last week, and couldn’t possibly have afforded, but loved all the same.
“Xander, you shouldn’t have, these cost a small fortune!”
Smiling goofily Xander sputtered incoherently about how he lacked creativity, and therefore just bought the shoes he had watched her try on every weekend for the last month. He was pleased all the same that he had managed to give her something he knew she would put to good use.
Buffy was now left with Anya’s present, upon which all eyes in the room were curiously gazing. Buffy slowly unwrapped the gift revealing, a folded cardboard cutout, encased in plastic wrapping. Blinking like a goldfish Buffy sputtered at Anya, making the occasional wild hand moving, she eventually gave up just staring at Anya with a somewhat amused expression.
“What is it?’” Xander eyed the black piece of cardboard curiously, seriously doubting his girlfriends taste at that moment.
“It’s folded, so you can’t see all of it. It’s a 6ft tall life size cutout of Spike, from that show that Buffy obsessed over for 7 years, you know Faith the Vampire Slayer?”
“Ohhhhhhh” said Tara, Willow and Xander in unison, who had all been deeply confused at Anya’s unusual choice of gift. Anya looked smug at the expression on Buffy’s face, somewhere between geeker glee and total embarrassment. Buffy had confessed weeks before that she’d love to stare at it all day, but couldn’t bring herself to buy one because of how lame she felt it would make her.
“I can’t believe you remembered, or actually went through with it!” Buffy smiled at Anya, shocked at the unusual outlets through which Anya displayed her thoughtfulness. Blushing furiously when Anya winked at her, Buffy neatly placed her gifts in a pile, which were waiting to be brought home.
The evening continued, until Xander helped Buffy load the packages into her car, she said her goodbyes and proceeded to drive off into the night.
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Buffy sat on her bed, listening to flamenco music, bathed in candlelight. Dressed only in her slinky pink nightgown she was going over her gifts, which she had deposited on her bed, upon first arriving home. Setting her tickets into her nightstand drawer, Buffy moved to put the shoes away. Once she had placed them in her closet, she turned back towards her bed, and the piece of cardboard lying there.
Cautiously moving towards it, embarrassed by her own excitement, she unfolded in slowly as though waiting for it to bite her. Laying it face down she read the instructions and popped the stands into place, lifting in carefully and placing it at the foot of her bed. Leaning back she took in the scene: there in front of her in all his glory, was Spike. He had been looking straight into the camera when the photographer had shot the film, creating the illusion that his eyes followed her as she moved.
Buffy felt like a dirty old woman, practically salivating at a glorified paper doll in front of her. But ohhhhh what a paper doll he was, with a devilish glint in his eyes, eyes set in a piercing gaze that had her breathing faster than normal. The dangerous scar through his eyebrow, sexy cheekbones and leather coat molded to his clearly drool worthy frame were nearly enough to make her salivate.
‘Damn Summers, calm down, this is so wrong on so many levels’ Buffy felt terribly naughty, staring at him, wondering what the actor would think if he knew, strangely that naughty taboo element only served to further the wanton desire running through her veins. Leaning back on her bed, and sliding into the silk sheets, she sighed, realizing she had passed the point of simply going to sleep, arousal reawakening her tired body. Staring at his eyes with a fascinated rapture Buffy resigned herself to using Anya’s previous present and reached under the bed for her little silver vibrator.
All the while she was telling herself what a terribly wicked thing this was to do, straddling the line between deliciously sexy and totally lame. Here she was a grown woman, drooling over cardboard for god’s sake. Despite all that however she was rapidly allowing herself to slip away from reality and into a world where that stare was directed at her, a fact that had her more aroused than she had been in the past year.
‘Pretty pathetic that cardboard get you this hot Summers’
‘Shut it B, and ride that pony’ Her naughty voice sounded in her head and she gave herself over to her fantasy completed, all traces of embarrassment swept away by waves of arousal.
Leaning back and running her hands gently down her side, Buffy closed her eyes and she felt the tip of her vibrator slide against her throbbing clit. Sighing to herself, enjoying the feelings and sounds washing over her she opened her eyes again, and started into a sitting position upon remembering the figure was just a cardboard cutout and not an axe murderer, she eased down again to lose herself in pleasure. Eyeing the cutout in front of her as she pumped the vibrator between her legs, quickly losing her grasp on reason and breathing more and more erratically, Buffy told herself she was being crazy for thinking his expression had changed.
She was mesmerized by the candlelight flickering across his features, amazed at how the longer she stared at his face, the more he seemed to be three dimensional. It scared her for a moment, before she realized how totally preposterous the thought was. Comforted by the glare of reflected light on the lower part of the paper finish, she was reassured of the two-dimensional status of the object of her quickly spiraling fantasies.
Running one hand along the curve of her breast, Buffy decided to relieve herself of her nightgown, exposing her naked body to the air, the temperature change only furthering her heightening pleasure.
Eyes rolling closed as she neared the edge, she purposefully slowed her ministrations drawing out the experience. Turning her eyes once again to the cardboard god in front of her, Buffy tried to turn off that nagging part of her mind shouting about how disturbing this entire experience was.
The vibrator moved fluidly in and out of her body as her other hand traveled down the expanse of her stomach to rub her clit in slow deliberate circles gradually increasing in speed, as Buffy’s small measure of control was overridden by her body calling out for its release. Staring in front of her Buffy was positive she was so close to the edge she was hallucinating from pleasure unable to really process what was happening, she would swear on her life that his expression was changing, and that the man in front of her was most definitely not cardboard. Dismissing the thought, with her last shred of rationality, Buffy neared that final moment, the edge of the precipice, the moment before everything fell away, washed away by a tidal wave of sensations.
Rearing her head back in a silent prelude to a scream, Buffy’s entire body went rigid a testament to the sensations exploding in each of her nerve endings. Arching her back she could almost feel the shift in the bed, and a feather light caress along her calf. Her eyes snapped open, shock preventing orgasm momentarily, Buffy found herself staring into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Blue eyes belonging to a figure in leather kneeling at the end of her bed: a three dimensional figure. Their eyes locked and Buffy tried to suppress the tiny mewl that passed through her lips as an orgasm rolled through her body. Attempting to make her spasms inconspicuous, Buffy just gaped at the man in front of her convinced she was hallucinating or complete insane, or alternatively embarrassed and aroused.
“’Lo luv” Spike drawled, fingers still dancing near Buffy’s ankle. He took in the breathtaking sight before him; her lithe frame splayed on the bed covered in a light sheen of sweat and her sexily mussed hair grazing her heaving breasts. Her face was open and betrayed her various emotions and embarrassed shock
“Uh… hi” Buffy squeaked, confused and rapidly approaching delirium from the absurdity and the expanding canvas of his caresses. He was moving upward along her leg agonizingly slowly and driving the remnants of sanity from her mind.
“Got a name, pet?”
“B-Buffy” He arched an eyebrow at her sputtered reply realizing the intense mix of shock and fear she was experiencing, he decided to reassure the goddess before him and take matters into his own hands.
Spike knew she wanted him, he knew he wanted her, he was damn confused as to what was going on, but he knew without a doubt that the hungry gaze she was giving him through glazed eyes was an open invitation. Crawling forward he moved to rest next to her hips, only a few feet from her brilliant green eyes, which were darting back and forth following the movements of his chest muscles, watching with a shy and wary fascination. He slid the duster from his arms, tossed it aside while bending forward to run a hand up her arm, ghosting his fingers along until he cupped her cheek and claimed her lips in a searing but simultaneously tender kiss. She registered the temperature difference and the reality of it, which only served to further inflame her desire.
Buffy knew without a doubt that her mind could not fabricate such a thing, the sensations he was evoking with the simple movement of his lips on hers were beyond her comprehension. He gently bit her lower lip using her gasp of pleasure as an opportunity to gain entrance and lead their tongues to meet in a gentle dance. It was passionate but not frenzied, the slow measure with which each kiss or touch was conducted served to stoke the fire in her belly into an unbearable inferno. Buffy felt as though she would lose her mind if she didn’t come, yet she didn’t want to end whatever spell had come over her and was responsible for his welcome presence.
Spike for his part felt inexplicably at home, the vixen beneath him was unaware of the effect her mewls and gasps were having on his tense body, but their was a rightness that managed to unnerve him while simultaneously allowing him to bask in a long forgotten sense of peace. Shifting his hips so his jean-clad erection came into intimate contact with her slick heat, he reveled in her strangled gasp. Sympathizing with the insanity brought on by delirious pleasure, Spike pulled back searched her eyes for that grounding emotion, and began to slide down her body, kissing as he went. He began his mission at her ears and throat, nibbling and kissing a trail down to her collarbone; he focused on clinging to his rapidly decreasing control. One hand resting to support his weight the other sliding around the curve of her breast he attempted to keep this vixen from unraveling him completely, his mouth moved to join his hand manipulating her nipples until he felt proper attention had been paid to them. Relishing the desperate sounds of pleasure Buffy was making he moved down between her thighs kissing each inner thigh deliciously slowly before delving his tongue into her. He attacked in long sweeping movements, stoking her arousal, bringing her right to the edge only to pull back, repeating this over and over until he felt hands grab his shoulders and haul him upwards.
Smiling despite his shock and her sudden forceful turn, he took in the seriousness of her gaze the fire and hunger that had him harder than he had ever before in his life, he knew with a sudden clarity it would be the best night of his life.
Buffy for her part had had enough, and was unable to bear another second with no control over the situation, she therefore took matters into her own hands, quite literally. Relieving him of his jeans and shirt, she allowed one hand to toy with his straining erection, the other to trace the contours of his muscled chest. Her ministrations filled her with pride, the reactions clearly displayed on his face were all the information she needed he wanted her with his entire being.
“Spike!” Buffy mewled in a breathy voice, the intonation told Spike all he needed to know as he positioned himself and gently thrust into her. The scorching heat surrounding him nearly drove him mad in an instant, and desperate not to embarrass himself he forced deep even breaths of unnecessary air. The remaining glimmer of control flew out the window the moment he registered her nails raking down his back, leaving red tracks in their wake.
Again and again he drove himself into her, kissing her neck and mumbling incoherent sentences desperate for the impending orgasm that he was sure would prove to be the best in his long life, he longed for it with all his being but simultaneously wanted desperately to prolong the experience of intense intimacy and discovery.
Her taut muscles had him in a vice grip, driving him beyond the point of madness. Pure instinct and need governed his actions, which lacked the precision he typically exhibited during sex, but the way the angel beneath him was affecting him went beyond any sexual encounter he’d ever experienced. This was poetry in motion for the first time – this was making love.
Buffy was nearing that moment losing control of her body, coherent thoughts fleeing chased out of her mind by the emotions and sensations searing her consciousness. Instinctively she bared her neck to him, arching into his increasingly frenzied touch with a long drawn out mewl.
Spike knew a gift when he saw it and just as they neared that spectacular crest he sunk his fangs into her waiting neck drawing her essence and feeling an extraordinary link to the very core of her being, he was overcome by waves and waves of her pleasure melding with his own. It all proved too much and he howled his release, but was drowned out by Buffy’s ear splitting scream.
Collapsing onto the bed, careful not to put too much weight on Buffy, Spike lay there heaving in desperate gulps of air, with a racing mind trying to process everything that had happened.
Buffy rested her head against the pillow, completely spent, still partially convinced of her total insanity, as rationality slowly reentered the arena of her mind.
Watching as Spike stumbled to throw a quilt over the window, she sighed happily admiring his sculpted physique, whatever it was it was beautiful, and that was enough. He flopped back next to her, pulling a sheet over their exhausted bodies. Drawing her gently close to spoon against his body he sighed into to back of her neck allowing his body to succumb to sleep as he purred contentedly. Buffy listened to his purrs, allowing them to lull her to sleep, praying the experience wasn’t an elaborate dream.
* * * * * * * * * *
Buffy awoke slowly, stretching languorously feeling completed sated. Last night had been amazing, no man had ever affected her the way he had. He had undone her with a single glance, it frightened her, but she was powerless to deny its intensity. Rolling over, she surmised that she should tell him just that. Registering the empty bed next to her, Buffy sighed to herself realizing it had all been a dream, a fantastic phantasmagorical dream. Filled with disappointment, she mentally chastised herself for even thinking it could be real, berating herself for her clearly mentally unstable actions. Resigning herself to another day in a lonely life, she mentally planned her day and decided breakfast was the best start. Sitting up slowly Buffy noticed two things: one the cardboard stand up at the foot of her bed was suspiciously missing. Two sitting in the chair in the corner, was a smirking man, watching her like the predator he was. Eyes widening at the sight of him, Buffy’s hand ran from her lap slowly up to her neck. Their eyes locked as her fingers ran over the healing puncture wounds marring her pale flesh, she gasped with shock and pleasure as her arousal was stirred by the her own innocent caress.
Spike stared at the sight before him, his golden goddess’s eyes as she woke from her dreams and processed that every detail had been real. Her hands caresses his mark as she stared a slow shy smile spreading across her now blushing face, to match his own. His smirk grew into a gentle but wicked smile, promising everything her eyes asked of him. Knowing there was only one thing to say to commence the new road presented to him in the lithe form of his petite angel, rising slowly to his feet he mentally toasted his new life.
“Mornin’, cutie”
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THE END… or is it?
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