Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: While I have taken the liberty of adding a few characters of my own creation, all of the original BtVS characters and their world belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and The WB. The song "Here" belongs to Vast. All are used without permission (I'll return them all unharmed) and no copyright infringement is intended (like most who post, I'm broke, so please don't sue).
Spoilers: All 3 seasons of BtVS.
Summary: It's the year 2047 and Aishling Rosenberg has recently discovered that her grandmother left behind a vast collection of letters, stories, research notes, etc.
Distribution: You want it, it's yours, just let me know where it's going to be living.
Feedback: I can't tell you how great it is....
Dedication: This one's for Joss Whedon, who created most of the wonderful characters I so love to play with. Joss once said, and I quote, "When you're writing, it's just you and the characters, and it's a great place to be." How very true....
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From the Desk of Aishiling A. Rosenberg 12 January 2048
I've been hard at work trying to compile this archive as neatly as possible, but I keep finding holes that I feel need to be filled. The last few entries are proof positive that my grandmother was more than willing to share her thoughts and feelings with regard to her relationship with Angelus and much of what transpired between them back on that fateful August night some 49 years ago.
But judging by the lack of notes to be found written in his hand, I realized that Angelus was a bit less forth coming with his point of view. There were a few. The ones I used to create Entry No. 22, for instance. But I knew that there was so much more he could share with me, if I could only persuade him to do so. I must say, I wondered at first if Grandma Willow tried and for once failed to get something out of him, or if she just felt that it was inappropriate the ask Angelus for more than he willing to gave her. It didn't much matter to me one why or the other. I wanted to know more.
So I asked. Well, I will admit that I did take the "chicken shit" approach. Two weeks ago, Angelus was in Germany helping Aoífe retrieve some long lost chalice that was about to fall into the wrong hands. I called and asked him over the phone. Not only didn't I have to look him in the eye as I made my request for data of such a personal nature, but I could always just hang-up on him if I had to...
Aoífe answered the phone at their end. We made with the pleasantries and some small talk for a few minutes. Then she asked what I really wanted and I told her. All she said was "Oh" then she passed the phone to Angel.
"Angel, I--" [I know what you want, and the answer is no.] "But I--" [Unh-ah. No. I can't.] "Why not?" [Because they're mine. And I'm a selfish old son of a bitch. I don't want to share those memories with anyone. I gave Willow all the notes that I'm going to give.] "You can't? You mean you won't." [Fine. What ever.] "Are they bad memories? Painful?" [Painful? Yes, sometimes. But are they bad memories? God, *no*. They're precious to me, too precious for the likes of the Watchers' Counsel.] "Screw the Watchers. Think of everyone else who will someday have access to these records. Why wouldn't you want the world to know just what Grandma did for you, how she made you feel?" [Aishling, murirmín (sweetheart), please, don't ask this of me.] "But I am asking. Obviously, Grandma didn't, but I am. You know, you started all this, you're the one who sent me off to Ireland and led me to the trunk. So, now, are you going to refuse my request?" [No.]
The line went dead. The son of a bitch hung up on me!
Yesterday I received a rather large manila envelope in the mail. The postmark on it was from Germany.. It contained fifty-seven handwritten pages, all in Angelus' small, neat script, all dealing with the events which started on the night of August 21st, 1999.....
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
I was driving like an idiot and I knew it. Fast. Way too fast. And recklessly. It was pretty stupid of me, I know. But hey, I'm like over 246 years old. If I want to make a few stupid choices in my life, I can. Or not. I think that maybe I've used up my quotient of bad choices.
Perhaps if there had been even one other car traveling on the dark, twisting road which runs along the ocean side, I might have driven a bit more cautiously. Or not. Who's to say. I sometimes get off on living dangerously. Living...hardy, har, har...
As it was, at that hour of the night, I had the road to myself. The road was unlit and I had turned off my headlights miles back. Didn't really need them. Actually see better without them. Had a great view of the ocean, seeing as I was racing along the Pacific Coast Highway, which sits a few hundred feet above the shoreline at that point. The last time I'd been out this way I had been with Buffy. We were heading out to eliminate a nest of Fire Demons and I'd been forced to drive Giles' battered old Citron. Well, forced only in the sense that it was take his car or walk and forced in the sense that there's no way in hell I'd ever get into a car with Buffy behind the wheel. Can you say "Distracted much?" Can you say "Death wish?" Ha-ha. Bad pun.
It was beautiful, the ocean that is. Pitch black, except for the reflection of the moon and the foaming crests of the waves. In my mind's eye, I can still it in the sunlight, sparkling blue and green, bright white and gold lights flashing off the surf...
The car I was driving was beautiful, too. It was new. Very new. Actually just had it delivered a week before. It was sleek and jet black. My color, don't ya know. Handled well. Kick stereo, as Buffy would say. But I wasn't playing it at the time. I had the car windows rolled down. I loved the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore down below. Reminded me of home. My first home. Ireland. Brought back memories of summers spent away from Galway, summers spent near the sea.
Memories of my past life used to hurt so much. Lately, some of them were actually becoming enjoyable. Go figure. Guess Hell will do that to you, change you're perspectives a bit. It changed some of mine, anyway.
The smell of the sea came rolling in with the wind whipping through the car. It blended nicely with the smell of the new leather interior. Leather and salt...made me think of more people from my past. Well, one person in particular...but let's not go there. I used to think those were also memories best forgotten. Now I'm not so sure...
The little green LED clock on the dash said it was almost 1am...time to head back to Willow.
I couldn't help but smile and shake me head at that notion...going back to Willow.
Willow. Jesus Christ, who'd have thought? Not me, to be sure. Well, not until recently anyway. And it all started with dreams. Wonderful, warm, erotic dreams. They offered me release when nothing else could. And they weren't all about Willow, although she was always there, somewhere. Just wish I could remember who else I was with in the dreams...
But earlier tonight, it had been Willow who had given me my release, not a dream.
Damn, I found myself having to shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable again as my rapidly growing erection made my pants too tight in the crouch. Squirming didn't help, it made matters worse. The feel of the fabric pressing against my cock made me think of Willow's warm, slender hand gripping me, stroking me...her other hand snaking down to grab a hold of...
Shit, I punched it then and the car went from 75 mph to 90 mph in about 2.3 seconds!
As I sped back toward Sunnydale, I dug into the cooler on the seat beside me and pulled out another bag of blood. Now this was a real "treat". I'd been keeping clear of human blood of any kind ever since I'd fed off of Buffy. But after what I'd done with Willow, nicking her and tasting her that way, I'd decided it might be wise to pay a visit to good ol' Willy the Snitch, and stock up on some of the "good stuff".
I was amazed at how guilt-free I felt as I drained the little packet. There was a time when I would have felt bad knowing that the blood I'd consumed probably should have gone to a blood bank and been on hand to save some human life. Not at that moment. I'd paid Willy well for the blood he supplied. I didn't ask about his sources, and he'd never think to just volunteer that information, which was fine by me.
It actually felt so good to be taking in human blood once again, that I emptied a third bag. Three pints in just over an hour? Wow. That was a lot of blood, based upon my current standards. Especially since it wasn't animal blood, but human. It was richer, more filling. Well, no, not more filling. More satisfying. There's a big difference there.
But, I rationalized that it was better to be safe than to be sorry. I was rushing home to be with Willow again, to fuck her senseless, if she'd let me, and I didn't want to be confronted with the temptation to taste her again. No, honestly, I really did want to taste her again, and feeding well first seemed like the safest way to do that!
God, am I a loathsome creature or what?
What was it that Xander had said to me back in May? Yeah, like I'll ever forget his words...
"Well, it's just good to know that when the chips are down and things are lookin' grim, you'll feed off the girl who loves you to save your own ass."
Gee,
wonder what he'd say if he knew what I wanted to do with his best friend,
Willow? I'll give him some credit, he'd at least try to stake me. He'd
never succeed, but he'd give it a whole hearted try. Got to admire that.
Willow'd lit a fire. I could smell it as I sped up the small hills which led to the mansion. I came to a screeching stop outside the house, not bothering to put the car back in the garage. I wanted Willow's hands on me. Soon! Very soon.
I was out of the car in a flash and bound around the house, choosing to re-enter the same way I'd left...through the garden. Seemed to be the entrance of choice that night.
I came to a near crashing halt as the sounds of Vast's "Here" finally registered in my lust clouded mind. Only one word adequately describes the thoughts and emotions that suddenly washed over me.
Fuck.
The last thing I was in the mood for was more talking. I wanted touching...lots and lots of touching. But I knew that the songs Willow had obviously been listening to were bound to raise a whole bunch of questions, questions I wasn't really prepared to answer.
I stood there in the middle of the garden for a few minutes, drinking in the sweet smell of the flowers, letting the song play out. I could hear Willow sobbing and it was breaking my heart, but I was reluctant to go to her. I wasn't sure what she might be thinking, having heard all those hurtful songs. Then again, she'd stood by and watched me torture a rat and had been, by her own admission, somewhat fascinated, excited even. That truth still left me a bit dumbfounded. A rueful smile slid across my lips, and shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I started to move toward the door to the house. Time to face the music. Okay, I'll lay off the puns.
My senses had already blocked out the smell of the burning wood in the fireplace, so the first thing I scented when I entered the great room was the fragrance of Willow's tears. That made me feel like such a heel. The last thing I wanted to do was make that wonderful woman cry. Yet behind the smell of her tears was the scent of my own bath products and I found it somewhat comforting to know that she'd used my things.
I was just so damn sorry I hadn't put away that stupid CD. I simply never expected her to play it. I'd been so sure I'd return to find her nestled in my bed, buried beneath the blankets, having found warmth and sleep there. I'd actually been looking forward to waking her up in my own special way. That idea was definitely out of the question now.
Willow’s crying slowly subsided. Her breathing patterns started to return to normal. I walked over to the spot where she was laying and sat down on the floor beside her head, my back to her, leaning against the edge of the sofa.
“I’m sorry, Will.”
“For what?” she asked between sniffles.
“I made that CD to torture myself, not to hurt you.”
“Well, it isn’t like you forced me to listen to it.” “No, but I should have--“
“Should have, could have, would have...what difference does it make? It’s done now. And I did it to myself, okay? So don’t apologize for something you didn’t do.”
“But I--“
“Angel, just do what comes naturally to you...keep quiet.”
I stood back up then, and walked over to the fireplace.
I was impressed. Willow had built a fine fire. I stoked it just a little. Didn’t really need to but I wanted to play with the poker and keep myself occupied until Willow was ready to talk. A few minutes passed and still no word from the woman on the couch, so I was forced to put the hot poker down and move on to something else.
I strolled over to the door which led to the garden and just looked out. I was still cursing myself for my own stupidity. I was also still suffering from a raging hard-on. Served me right. I was such a glutton for punishment and in being so I was often careless, so I guess I deserved what I got. Or more likely, what I wouldn’t get...
Can you say “Frustrated?”
I caught myself running my fingers through my hair. Damn stupid habit. Used to do it constantly in my youth...could never keep my hair back in neat bow, much to my mother’s chagrin. Wonder what she would think of my current hairstyle, short as it was? Of course what really annoyed me about the subconscious habit, was the fact that I didn’t seem compelled to practice it when I was without my soul. But hey, who needed play to with their hair when you could vent your frustrations with a nice violent kill? Okay, let’s not dwell on that thought for very long...
I growled at myself, and stuffed my hands into my pockets. I toed off my shoes and kicked them out of the way. Then I just continued to stand there in the doorway and to stare into the night..
I finally noticed for the first time just how much work Willow had done in the little garden. It had never looked so good, not in all the time I’d lived there, anyway. And night blooms, she’d filled the entire garden with night blooms. Not just jasmine, anymore, although some of that was still there, too.
Willow’s
arms came around my waist and she pressed herself into my back as she reached
up and started to unbutton my shirt. I know it was unintentional, but I
could feel her hips grinding into my ass as she worked and my erection
throbbed. I’m sure I groaned. I couldn't help myself. Oh God, she was touching
me again. I must be blessed in some way...
I could feel the smooth silk fabric sliding along my sides as she parted the opening of my shirt and slipped her hands inside. Willow’s fingers were dancing upon my belly, performing their own little ballet as they skittered with light flowing movements along the ridges of my abdomen, then did a pirouette of sorts in my naval. God, I wanted so much more, but beggars can’t be choosy. I’d take what I got and be *very* happy with it. I just wanted to feel...
I’ve always been a tactile creature, even when I was still human. I just love to feel things under my fingertips, upon my skin, beneath my tongue. Different textures, different temperatures. One of the few perks to being a vampire are my heightened senses. I revel in it, sometimes even loose myself in the sensations. Darla used to get so pissed at me when I was still a fledgling. Years later I continued to allow myself to get all caught up in what I was feeling. I just liked to piss her off for the hell of it...
Spike’s a lot like me in that respect. He, too. likes to piss people off just for the fun of it. But no, more importantly, he likes to touch things, study them, soak in their essence. I think it’s one of the reasons we were once so close. Although he does, at times, lack a certain amount of focus. He’s a classic example of someone who suffers with A.D.D.! We used to sneak into museums late at night and I’d spend hours caressing just one statuette, while Spike bounced from piece to piece. The good old days, hunh?
Can’t believe how my thoughts were wandering. Actually I’m amazed I had any coherent thoughts at all. I think it was my mind’s way of helping me to keep from coming in my pants. Just the mere touch of Willow’s hand was driving me wild. She was playing with my nipples again, scraping her nails across them like she did earlier. The one was still tender from her bite, but the slight pain was only adding to my pleasure. When she started to pinch them, well...
“The garden looks lovely,” I sighed, well groaned really. “Dru would love it.”
Damn, now why the hell had I said that? I just said the first thing that came to mind. Christ, I wanted Willow’s hands on my dick so badly, I’d just blurted out something I’d never have said if I’d been thinking with the right head...
Willow pulled her hands away from me, and I growled at her. I was really afraid that I’d offended her by speaking of Drusilla, but I was obviously not expressing myself very well. I was so relieved when I felt her hands come to rest on my shoulders. She slid her fingers under the collar of my shirt and then drew it down my arms, letting it fall to the floor. I could feel the smile on Willow’s lips as she pressed a warm, wet kiss into the center of my back.
“I’m glad you think so,” Willow finally replied. “It’s the night blooms, isn’t it?”
I can't even begin to find the words to adequately express just what Willow’s response meant to me. She had taken my simple statement at face value. She understood and accepted the fact that Drusilla and Spike would always be a part of my life. Even if they where to have little to do with my future, they were still a very large part of my past...
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.” My voice sounded harsh. I was being choked by my emotions, as well as by my desires.
“Well, I had hoped you would like them. I really didn’t have Drusilla in mind when I chose them,” Willow giggled. Then she went back to placing kisses on my back.
Her hands took a hold of my upper arms and she pulled me back into the room, forcing me to walk backwards toward the fireplace. Still more kisses. And they were nice but...
Willow’s hands came to rest on my thighs next. She seemed very content to just massage the muscles found beneath her fingers. And, tense as those muscles were from my straining to keep a rein on my passions, I really wanted her hand elsewhere.
Oh, but that was better. She’d moved her hands up to my ass and was firmly kneading my cheeks.
“That feels nice,” I purred as I threw my head back in abandon.
“Really?” Willow asked in a very breathy, yet innocent sounding voice. “How about this?”
A split second later my member was being covered by Willow’s hot little hand. Even through the fabric of my pants I could feel the heat radiating from her touch as she started to fondle me.
“That’s nice, too," I managed to say.
“But you want more.”
I just gave her a small nod of my head. “Greedy much, demon?” she chuckled.
“Gluttonous by nature.”
The laughter from Willow following that confession was so rich, so earthy and feminine, that I wanted to push her down to the floor and take her right then and there. The only thing holding me back was my own fear that my making love to her wasn't something Willow really wanted. Maybe our zealous foreplay was enough for the time being. Hell, it was more than I'd had in quite some time. I really was greedy, wasn't I?
Willow remained behind me. The hand she'd place over my erection was casually making its way up and down my length. On the down sweeps, she'd pause for a moment or two to caress my balls before moving back up toward the head. Her gentle touch and slow pace were maddening.
Her other hand also left my behind and began sliding about my back. She spent a good amount of time running her fingers over my tattoo. I couldn't see what the deal was with my tattoo. Buffy and Willow both seemed to be fascinated with it. I really didn't get it. Of course I couldn't see the thing at that point in time, so maybe that's why its mystique was lost on my.
"It's very old, " Willow commented.
"How can you tell?"
"The coloring, for one thing. Looks like...India ink? Newer inks are much more vivid. Now many don't even fade as they age. And the technique. The lines are not as sharp as the ones made by more modern tattoo needles. It beautiful still, though. A real work of art. Celtic, yes?"
I just nodded.
"Must have hurt like a bitch."
She got a chuckle out of me with that brilliant assumption.
"Before or after?" Willow practically whispered the question.
I shook my head this time. That was not a story I was going to share, not that night, anyway.
"Okay," Willow sighed. She placed a kiss upon my tattoo and she let the subject drop.
Willow's hands didn't drop though. The one on my back slid up into my hair and she proceeded to tangle her fingers in it, tugging at it, none too gently I must say. Not that I was complaining, mind you. I do, on occasion, enjoy being manhandled. Besides, I think Willow was just trying to distract me for a moment as her other hand moved back up to my belly. I was about to groan, loudly, making my displeasure known, when she quickly slipped her hand back down, this time dipping under the waistband of my slacks and slipping her hand inside my pants.
I did
groan loudly then, but for an entirely different reason.
Willow was touching the swollen head of my cock with just a single finger. She teased the tiny slit in the tip, coaxing out some pre- cum, which she then slowly smeared all about the head. Her touch was so soft, so very light, I thought I'd go mad.
I was losing it. My control, that is. I growled at her as I gave up trying to keep my human visage in place.
Willow had the nerve to laugh at my discomfort.
"You're tormenting me," I snarled at her.
"I know," was her breathy reply.
"Be careful, little girl," I warned.
"Oh, my, what are you?" she drawled, mocking me. "The Big Bad Wolf? Who does that make me? Little Red Riding Hood?"
I growled at Willow again. Warning her. Threatening her, perhaps. She was trying to play games with me and that could be dangerous.
Willow might be "Research Girl" and she may have managed to get a good look at some of Giles' more carefully guarded tomes, books which detail some of the -ahem- personal aspects of a vampire's life, (namely graphic accounts of our sexual encounters, including some of my very own exploits) but those tales don't even come close to describing our more deviant behavior. I'd kept a *very* tight rein on all of those tendencies for an unbelievable length of time. I was truly afraid of what might happen if Willow pushed the wrong button.
I don't think Willow would ever intentionally ignore a warning from me. I think she was just so caught up in what was probably her first attempt at a game of a sexual nature that she simply missed it, because she went right on playing.
"Oooo, Mr. Wolf," she crooned in my ear. "Are you going to eat me?" Just the thought of doing that made me salivate. This was *not* my Willow. Little Red Riding Hood, indeed!
A vision of Willow traipsing through a forest flashed behind my eyes. Oh, but, Sweet Jesus, the Willow I saw bore a *very* strong resemblance to the Vampire Willow we had encountered not long ago. She was most definitely wearing a red colored cape, blood red in fact, with the hood drawn up, but I'll swear to this day that it was black leather she wore beneath that cloak!
"Please, Willow," I pleaded with her softly. "Be careful what you ask for."
She chose that moment to move her fingertip down lower on my shaft, to the area just behind the ridge of the head, and she stepped- up her tender torture by caressing the sensitive flesh found there. I could feel my sac tighten and the pre-cum was oozing out in an almost continual little stream, which only served to aide Willow in her ministrations as her finger could now glide around that ring full of nerve endings.
I felt my pants pool around my ankles and in the same instant I felt Willow's other hand working a finger into the crack of my ass. The demure redhead obviously had many hidden talents. I'd been so caught up in the havoc she was wreaking on my dick, that I hadn't even noticed she was undoing my pants. Damn she was *good*. I'd have to remember to thank Oz when we met in the afterlife.
A shiver ran up my spine when she put her mouth on the small of my back, first placing a number of warm, wet kisses there, then making little circles with the tip of her hot tongue while at the same time a finger was circling my anus. If I had still been in the habit of breathing, I would have been panting at that point. Honestly, I think that perhaps I was!
I was no longer trapped within the confines of my pants and Willow took advantage of my freedom. She started pumping me, holding my erection firmly in her grasp but moving so slowly up and down my shaft that I had to fight back the urge to cover her hand with my own and quicken her pace.
Luckily for me, Willow decided to take matters in her own hand, not just my member!
She moved to a position in front of me, facing me. Willow looked so beautiful, her face flushed by the heat of the fire and, judging by the wonderful musky smell she was giving off, she was flushed by her desire as well. Her eyes were so dark with lust that they almost appeared to be black, yet they still flashed green when the firelight hit them just right. I was suddenly fascinated by the rich auburn color of her lashes, by the porcelain perfection of her skin, her bright pink lips and pearly teeth...
I slid the fingers of both my hands into her silken red hair and drew her face in closer so that I could dip down and capture her lips with my own. I had meant to keep the kiss gentle, but I already told you I was losing control. All too soon, I was shamelessly mauling her lips then forcing my tongue between them. God, her mouth was sweet.
At least I could take some comfort in the fact that Willow was doing some plundering of her own. Her tongue lashed out at mine and soon she was in my mouth, carefully exploring all the different, sharper surfaces now found there. She started caressing my elongated canines. The tip of her tongue slid up and down the length of my fangs in perfect time with her hand, which was still stroking my cock.
I’m certain it was no accident that she kept repeatedly nicking her tongue on the razor sharp tips of my fangs, and I was venal enough to relish that little bit of blood she offered me, when in fact I should have chastised her, forced her to stop before things got out of hand.
“Do I taste good?” she mumbled around our tangling tongues before she started to withdraw hers from my mouth.
“Yes,“ I hissed as my tongue tried to follow Willow’s into her mouth.
But Willow quickly pressed her lips together, denying me access. She pulled back just a bit, and with a wicked glint in her eyes, she spoke to me in a voice that was at once both innocent and seductive.
“I think that’s enough for you right now, Angelus, because in *my* version of the faerie tale, Little Ride Riding Hood gets to eat the Big Bad Wolf.”
I was instantly weak in the knees and my cocked swelled further as I thought of her mouth on me, tasting me, devouring me in fact. Oh, I desperately wanted this little girl to eat me! Wow, had Willow really meant that?
To say I was shocked by her words would be an understatement. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how this woman kept her passions so well hidden! I couldn’t help but wonder just how far she would be willing go with her little games. Could I someday teach her some of my own?
I felt then like I was being stalked, in some strange way. I think it was the smooth, purposeful movements of Willow’s body that gave me that impression.
Willow looked me straight in the eyes and she played with my balls as she started to maneuver me toward the fireplace. She placed her free hand upon the center of my chest and pushed me along with enough force that when my calves came in contact with the ledge of the high hearth, I almost lost my balance. Willow took both her hands off of me then, only to strike out and give me a good shove so that I landed upon the stone surface of the hearth with a slap to my naked ass.
She bent and spread my thighs wide apart then gracefully knelt down between them. I though I'd died and gone to heaven when she leaned in and placed wet, opened mouth kiss on the tip of my cock. Then I was in hell as Willow pulled away. I growled, viciously. Willow just smiled at me, her eyes twinkling with merriment. It was outrageous! How could she be so cruel and yet so kind...
"Willow, please," I begged.
She just put a finger to her lips. Her actions silently told me to "shush".
She started at one of my knees, put her soft warm lips to my cold flesh, and proceeded to place a trail of wet kisses up my inner thigh, until about midway to my groin. Then she switched to making small circles with the tip of her tongue as she moved upward. I was mesmerized by the sight of Willow's dark pink tongue moving on my pale skin. The closer she got to my crouch, the tighter my sac became. My erection was standing tall and so hard, weeping, silently begging for release. Dear Lord, what Willow was doing to me...well, it was, by far, some of the sweetest torture I'd ever been subjected to.
As her mouth worked its way up my leg, she slipped her hands behind my knees and pulled me forward to the very edge of the hearth. When she released me, my knees fell back a bit further, and I was as open to her as I could be. For the longest time, Willow lapped at the crease where my thigh meets my groin. Her nose nuzzled my balls gently and I could hear her inhaling deeply, scenting me. Then she subjected my other thigh to the same punishment. By the time she was done with that leg, I was quite sure I wouldn't last long when she finally took me into her mouth.
I gasped aloud in anticipation as she pulled back a little and her mouth, which was no longer touching me, moved upward. She deliberately ignored my cock, instead sticking her tongue into my naval and twirling it about.
"Bitch," I snarled.
A chuckle came from deep within Willow's chest and I was so relieved when I heard it. I hadn't meant to offend her why I cried out. She was just tormenting me so...
I slid my fingers into her hair once again, lovingly stroking the back of her head and trying to distract myself with the feel of her silky locks slipping between my fingers. It wasn't really working, so, figuring I had nothing to lose, I decided to beg some more.
"Please," I pleaded softly.
I bent and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Her hair smelled of oranges and spice, my shampoo. I liked that.
"Please, Willow," I whispered into her hair. "What you're doing is wonderful, but I'm aching for more. Please, just touch me again. Make me come. I want to come so badly. I need release now. Please."
My begging had the desired effect.
Willow graciously acquiesced and I almost exploded as she quickly grabbed hold of my cock, then bent and took the head into her mouth. My hips bucked involuntarily, but Willow must have anticipated my reaction because she moved with me, keeping me from burying myself deep in her throat. Her hands came up to my hips and she forced me back down. Only after I'd regained some semblance of control did she begin to move again, sliding her lips down my shaft as far as she could go, then pulling back up, sucking on me as she drew closer to the tip.
I can only thank the gods that Willow realized the time for teasing was well past and she went right to work on me. She was fucking fantastic! I couldn't keep my eyes off of her, watching her head bob up and down as she continued to pleasure me with her mouth. With each down stroke she took me deeper, on each up stoke she sucked harder. She manhandled my balls, just like I had told her to do earlier that evening. I had been right when I'd though I wouldn't last long. I mind was so addled at that point, but I realized I needed to say something to her, something that would make sense. I struggled to get the words out.
"I'm close, Willow."
Suddenly I was a gentleman? Well, I thought it only courteous to warn her that I was nearing my climax, in case she wanted to pull her mouth away before I started to come.
She didn't pull away.
One of Willow's hands started to stroke the lower part of my shaft as she moved her mouth up and concentrated her oral efforts on only the tip of my cock.
"Ohgod. Oh. God!"
Willow parted her lips, opening her mouth and I watched her as she used the velvet surface of her tongue to caress my frenulum, that V-shaped notch in the ridge of the head that any man will tell you is probably one of his most sensitive hot spots. Then I felt a slender, hot finger worming its way up into my ass.
Fuck I was close, so *very* close. I was growling non-stop as my climax rapidly approached. I couldn't take me eyes off of her! And Willow was looking directly into my eyes as she lapped at me. That made what she was doing so very personal, made it so much more than just sex.
Christ, the only thing that could have made this any better would have been having the freedom to sink my fangs into the delicate flesh of her neck and to take her essence into my mouth as I shot my load into hers. I didn't have long to dwell on that thought though, because Willow closed her lips again and started sucking on that V-shaped part of my cock just as her finger reached my prostate and stroked it.
I couldn't take it any longer. My eyes slammed shut, I threw my head back and I exploded, crying out her name so loudly I think they may have heard me in the next town over! Between that scream and the constant growling, I'd be horse for days! It was fucking well worth it!
Willow continued to pump me, to suckle me gently, milking me thorough a climax that seemed to have no end. I could feel the back of her throat contract around my head as she swallowed my cum.
She finally released me when I started to soften in her mouth. I couldn't believe what I saw when I reopened my eyes. The wanton wench was actually sitting back, licking her lips! And she made these little smacking noises with her tongue as she tried to capture the taste of my ejaculate.
"Do I taste good?" I asked, mimicking her own words from earlier.
"Delicious," Willow purred as she crawled up into my lap. "Wanna taste?"
She put her hands on either side of my face and quickly pulled me in for a searing kiss. I could in fact taste myself in her mouth, the flavor of my cum blending so nicely with the flavor of Willow. It was this perfect blend of the sweet and the salty, with just a hint of a coppery twang. I couldn't help but wonder if Willow's less sensitive sense of taste picked up on the small trace of blood which was in my secretions. Was that why she had been so eager to eat me?
My, my, just what kinds of thoughts were going through her mind? Who had she been in her past lives? And what had she done?
While I was lost for a moment in my own thoughts, Willow hopped up and standing before without a hint of shyness, she stripped. She then extended her hands to me, which I quickly took in my own. They were so beautiful, her hands. I liked the way they felt when I held them.
Willow pulled me to my feet. Well, she tugged on my hands and coaxed me into rising, anyway. She freed one of her hands, then turned and started pulling my toward my bedroom.
"Come on, Mr. Wolf," she called back over her shoulder. "It's your turn to eat me."
End
Entry Twenty-Four