Title: Scattered Thoughts: Promise You Forever
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17 If you shouldn’t be here, be somewhere else.
Episode spoilers: Doppelgangland, Prom, G1 & 2, set between G2 and Buffy season 4/Angel season1
Archive: My site only! If you want to link to it, please contact me to let me know where.
Series/Sequel: Follows ‘Scattered Thoughts: The Road Has Come to an End’, but you *don’t* have to read that before this -- this one can stand alone.
Previous parts: www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/buffy.html.
Disclaimer: Angel, Willow, et al, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. All characters are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
Thanks: As always, to Carrie and to Marius especially for coming through at the 11th hour. You two are the best :-) Thanks so much for all the work you do!

...shocked!

Oh Mary, Mother ‘o God, she’s actually thinking about...

...she’s actually gonna...

...she’s actually doing it...

...Oh, Sweet *Jesus*!...

...Yes! See, I can do this! Okay, granted it was only one lick, but boy did it take longer than I thought it would. I’m a little confused at first because Angel seems to be a little different than Oz. It takes me a minute to realize why. Well, duh! Two hundred and fifty years ago, only Jewish babies were cut.

Backing off, I let my hand explore, teaching myself as I go how to do this with a man who has Angel’s... bonus...equipment. Actually, I’m more than a little surprised to realize it’s mostly the same as any other guy, but that I just need to make sure to slide the extra skin along the shaft the way he seems to like it. And does he ever seem to like it! He must, if the heavy drops of...of...pre-come -- there, I actually *thought* it! -- are any indication.

Now then, where was I before I got distracted? Oh yeah, somewhere right about...here. I finish the thought by lowering my head to lick the delicious droplets off of him. Hmm, is it just me, or does he taste even better than he did before?

Feeling bolder than I have all night, I decide to try something new. Flicking my tongue over every inch within its reach, I wrap my lips around the tip. Once I take the head of his shaft into my mouth, I hollow my cheeks and suck very gently.

Whoa! Okay, reaction much! I thought Angel was going to buck himself straight off the floor. But that’s a good thing, right? That means I’m doing it correctly.

I think.

Only one way to find out. Pushing my luck, I take another inch of his length into my mouth, and when Angel moans in appreciation, I take another inch after that. And another. Sensing that I’m about to choke, I back off a bit, and wonder what I’m supposed to do now.

But Angel is there, ready to show me what I need to know. He starts easily, gently rocking his hips until I understand just what he has in mind.

I feel his hands come to rest on the back of my head, not forcing me like in some of the horror stories I’ve heard about this act, but rather softly guiding me in my efforts.

The air is filled with the sounds of his moans and sighs, and that, more than anything else, helps me to relax a little. To my surprise, I find that the more at ease I am with this, the more of his length I can take. I guess that’s a good thing since Angel’s thrusts are starting to become more...forceful. Yet, despite his slipping control, he never pushes me further than I’m willing to go.

In fact, it would seem that I’m willing to go farther than he is. Unused to this, my jaw is starting to ache a bit, and my mouth is getting a little dry. It’s more by accident than by design when I move my tongue in an effort to moisten my parched throat, by Angel almost explodes at the sensation.

“Ughh! Yes! Willow! Yes! Please! More!” he gasps each word in a tone so passionate, it makes *me* squirm with need.

Taking his pleading to heart, I busy myself by sweeping my tongue from side to side while continuing to bob up and down on his length. It takes some concentration, but hearing and feeling Angel’s reaction makes it all worthwhile.

Putting every scrap of stray gossip I’ve ever overheard to good use, I continue to try the things that I’ve never had the courage to do with Oz. By force of will, I move my hand from its current resting place. With as light a touch as I can manage, I trace my fingertips along one of Angel’s smooth, muscular thighs. His shivering reaction quickly ends in a pounding thrust into my mouth as those same fingers brush along the tender sac that has apparently been waiting on my attention.

All traces of Angel’s gentleness have long since vanished. To my surprise, I’m sort of happy about it, too. It seems that I find myself liking the rougher stuff.

I sneak a glance upward and am I ever glad for it. I feel a rush of moisture between my legs as I feast my eyes on Angel caught in the throes of passion. Even with his head thrown back, I can still see that his eyes are tightly closed. All of his muscles are rippling, from the ones corded up in his neck to the pecs that are almost throbbing as he fights his own impulses to pull my head completely down his engorged length.

As I continue to bob up and down on him, Angel’s movements get wilder -- more restless, more...

...out of control.

I can feel the old familiar pressure building as my body races to finish this. I don’t want to stop -- I don’t want *her* to stop. Ever. Her mouth is hotter than sunlight, her tongue like a snake moving to the music of a charmer, and the scent of her desire is driving me to distraction.

But as good as it is, it’s nothing compared to the sight of that bright red hair shimmering as her head rises and falls over my dick. That, more than anything else hammers home the knowledge that it’s *Willow* who is about to give me my best orgasm of the century.

What odd creatures we are, we vampires. Hedonistic to a fault; what we crave, we take. While I may have a soul, even I have a point where I lose control.

And I knew I was about to cross the line.

I’m almost there -- the time where the euphoria starts, where balls tighten and the warm tingling begins to build in preparation for the big event. My steady thrusts into Willow’s mouth are beginning to break down into random pushes with no other purpose than to coast along the wave of pleasure that had already begun.

And somehow I manage to find the strength to stop.

I move with all the swiftness my vampire nature has to offer, forcing Willow onto her back before she can even figure out we have moved. Grabbing a milky calf in one hand and a trim ankle in the other I pull her legs apart and dive in to taste the sweetness that I know is waiting for me between them.

Oh merciful God, she’s wet. I don’t even need vampirically enhanced night-vision to see her own essence glistening like iridescent dew on her creamy inner thighs. Is this from her earlier orgasm, or is it her reaction to going down on me? I know without thinking that the answer is the latter, and yet somehow the knowledge leaves me stunned. I’m having a difficult time adjusting to the fact that underneath that shy, innocent Willow-exterior I’m so used to seeing, rests this sexual hellcat.

I think I’m in lust.

Shoving the thought aside, I turn my head and begin lapping the juices that have overflowed onto one of her legs. A growl escapes me as the taste of her hits my tongue. It’s like a bitter honey; sweet and salty and uniquely Willow -- and all at the same time.

And it’s addictive as hell.

Willow is squirming before I even reach the junction where thigh folds neatly into pelvis. Like a little kid saving the best part for last, I retreat downward and start the process all over again on her other leg.

My teasing tongue has only added to Willow’s excitement. When I finally reach the top this time around I can actually see the proof of her desire as it flows freely from her beckoning slit. Not wanting to waste a single drop, I plunge my tongue in with all the accuracy of an arrow flying straight toward its target.

My first touch is none-too-gentle, a long sweeping lick along her folds that sends a quiver throughout her entire body. Encouraged by her reaction, I bring my hands up to open her folds, shivering myself as I take in the perfection that is Willow. Lying there with her legs -- and sex -- spread open before me, she is the perfect picture of wantonness.

Finally, I find that I simply can’t wait any longer. My tongue is relentless as it swirls and circles the entrance to her body. Willow reacts to my slightest touch, whether out of instinct or Oz’s teachings I’d rather never find out. Her pleas and sighs are enflaming, though, driving me to drive her higher and higher into pleasure. It’s a vicious cycle that I can only wish would never end.

From time to time my nose accidentally brushes up against the most sensitive part of her. Judging by the harshness of her breath each time it happens, the glancing contact drives her crazy. For my part, I love it because I get rewarded for it by an additional outpouring of her juices.

I could easily stay here forever, my tongue driving deep within the passage I can never allow myself to fully explore. Her folds are still damp, this time with a combination of her own wetness and my saliva. Willow is all but grinding herself into my face, blindly seeking the touch necessary to take her where she needs so desperately to go.

As the moments pass, her passionate moans turn to cries of frustration. I know that I need to help her, to bring her over the edge before her pleasure turns to pain. Even now her clit is swollen and throbbing -- which only serves to remind me of my own unsatisfied erection. But unlike myself, Willow is free to find pleasure in acts such as these; and I’m only too happy to be the one to give it to her.

Inching closer to the pulsating nub, I give it a single cursory lick just to prepare her for the onslaught to come. Willow’s cry is a ragged one -- half plea and half demand for more. I happily oblige her by closing my lips around her clit. Pursing them together, I create a suction around the bundle of nerves while softly fluttering my tongue over it repetitively.

Willow’s reaction is almost immediate. Bracing...

...my feet on the floor, my hips shoot up of their own volition and stay there. My thighs are tense to the point of cramping, but I could care less. In fact I don’t care about anything at this point except making sure that Angel *never* ever stops whatever magic he is working on my body.

I can feel it the moment it starts -- the warmness that seems to begin somewhere in the pit of my stomach. Like the shock wave of an explosion, it travels outward almost faster than my nervous system can register until it settles straight where Angel’s mouth is.

When it finally happens, I feel like I’m breaking apart. Wave after wave of pleasure is hitting me but without a beginning or an end. It’s like climbing to the top of the next pennacle without ever reaching the peak of the first one. My body is throbbing all over, my head tossing from side to side as my hands scramble uselessly for something to hold on to. In the back of my mind I realize that I’m on my tiptoes, using the extra leverage to press myself even harder against Angel’s face.

I want to beg him to keep going, to make this last forever, but the air is already thick with noise. It takes a few seconds for me to realize that the sounds are my own wordless cries of ecstasy. They must be all Angel needs to hear because he doesn’t even slow down, making a few pleasure-filled moans of his own as I continue to come and come some more.

Then the strangest thing happens to me. Angel is still...licking me, a bit more gently than before, but it doesn’t feel as good as it did a minute ago. In fact, it’s almost...too much. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m burying my fingers deep in hair, clenching them a little to urge him...




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