Alley Cat

Written by: Laure Alexander
Author's Website






Summary: Buffy's POV during the alley sex. Set during DMP, *that* scene.
Distribution: If you like it, just ask; I've never said no. If you have my permission, please take. List archives: yes.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Dedication: Not really happy with this. Probably should have done Spike's POV, but this has been lingering on disk for too long, so...
Feedback: Please, please, please. No flames, please. lara@sunflower.com






So...

This is my life.

Double shifts. The work of a mindless drone. The stench of the rancid grease that coats every inch of my body.

Polyester pants.

And moments of empty sex in an alley.

Oh, it feels good. My body responds the way it always does to his touch.

But, it's an alley, next to a dumpster, and I can smell the garbage and stale pee and my own greasy stink. The hideous orange pants are around my ankles, the grungy bricks are digging into my back, and he's fucking me so hard and deep.

His cold hands gripping my hips, lifting me off the ground and pressing me to the wall. His face contorted with strained pleasure. His mouth issuing low growls and grunts in time with his thrusts.

We didn't even kiss.

I saw him walk by, look at me, and I was lost. Just his eyes on mine made me hot, and I mumbled something about going on break, and joined him in the alley.

His hands fondled my breasts, his mouth slid behind my ear, and I reached for the hard-on prodding against my stomach, squeezing it through his jeans.

Sixty seconds later he was shoving my pants down to slide one hand between my legs.

There's no embarrassment any longer. I was wet and swollen for him, but I don't care.

And he smirked as he brought me off, and I don't care about that either. He's a bastard. He knows it; I know it.

I just don't care anymore.

He's the only person that makes me feel anything real anymore.

Even if it is from hard fucking in alleys and cemeteries, bent over tombstones and shoved against dumpsters.

I hold onto his shoulders as he lifts me higher, pushing faster and faster into me. He's groaning against my neck, sharp little grunts with each thrust of his hips.

And I wonder, as I always wonder at this point, why he doesn't morph, why he doesn't bite me.

Sometimes...

I wish he would.

I still remember clearly my last bite, what it did to me. I had never come so hard in my life, and I've never been able to feel that much sensation again.

And I know I should never compare Spike to Angel, that's so hideously wrong of me, but I can't help wishing to feel that again, the painful stomach clench, the shortness of breath, the explosions of light behind my eyes.

Dozens of orgasms since, and yet...they don't quite measure up.

And I want to know if Spike can make it happen for me again.

But, I'll never ask him.

I'll just keep fucking him whenever I get the urge. Even without the exquisite intensity of a bite induced orgasm, he always makes me come so easily, so wonderfully.

Even now, when I'm tired and worn down by meaningless work, and full of fatty hamburger, and smelling of french fries. As he pounds into me, he angles me just right, rubbing my hard clit against his cock, sending bolts of burning pleasure through my whole body.

I begin to moan along with his grunts, as our bodies bang together, driving, striving for release. Clutching him tighter, I roll my head on the wall, rubbing my breasts against his chest through too many layers of clothes. They feel heavy, hot and prickly with sweat and lust, but we don't have time to take off any more clothes than necessary.

Just an unzip of his jeans, and my pants and panties down, and we're fucking fast and furiously.

It's okay. It's actually better this way. No emotion to get in our way, just sex and grinding bodies.

This time no kissing either.

Why hasn't he kissed me?

He's nuzzling my neck, my ear, my cleavage, but his mouth hasn't touched mine.

It's...kinda dirty.

I kinda like it.

Just the thought of how smutty, how nasty, how...exciting this all is, makes me come with a loud moan. My whole body clenches and explodes, and as I shudder, I feel Spike coming, too, pumping into me, his cum shooting deep inside me.

And as I close my eyes, I feel another shudder go through me as I realize that I have three more hours of work, and I'll have to do them in wet panties, his cum and my own juices drying on my thighs, the musky scent of sex oozing from my pores with the grease.

It's kinda thrilling.

So, maybe the sex isn't that empty.

And maybe my life isn't either...at least at this moment.

 


The End



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