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 "You can't."
  
  "I can."
  
  "No, you can't."
  
  "Yes, I can."
  
  "You cannot, Spike."
  
  "Yes, I bloody can."
  
  "No, it's not physically possible."
  
  "Well, I've done it before, lots of times."
  
  "You are delusional, Spike." And thus the argument continues, we've been at 
  it since yesterday, I know I am right, he thinks he is right and he won't let 
  it drop. I can't even remember now what really sparked it off. I was trying 
  to watch something about Jean Paul Sartre on Discovery and every time a break 
  came on he snatched the remote and switched to MTV, and it was really pissing 
  me off, so when he wouldn't give it back I think I may have made some perfectly 
  reasonable comment to him...
  
  Fucking pillock threatened to cut me bleeding hands off. 
  We got into this bloody argument and now he won't let it drop. I can see the 
  poofter sitting at his desk now with his, "I am such an important business man 
  look", whereas in fact he's dying to...
  
  "If you could, then I would be able to, too, and I can't, so you can't either." 
  Okay, I may have said something to the effect that I would remove certain appendages 
  he found very useful. He just screamed with laughter saying I would miss his 
  hands more than he would, cus then he couldn't wank me off anymore. I said on 
  the contrary, I could still do myself. And that's when he made his ridiculous 
  claim.
  
  Fuckin' told him, told him straight! "I don't need soddin' 
  hands for a wank, I can do it myself by just thinking about it."
  
  So, of course, I said he couldn't, he said he could, and that's how we've ended 
  up twenty four hours later glaring at each other over the desk. But I KNOW I 
  am right because it's physically impossible and I know he's just winding me 
  up. So I'm not worried, and there's no way I'm going to bet with...
  
  "Bet yer."
  
  "NO! No way, I have been betting with you for over one hundred years and you 
  have never once paid up, you little welcher."
  
  "That's cus I never lose, you pillock, come on Angel, if you're so sure I can't, 
  then I bet you, tonight, high stakes."
  
  I eye him cautiously. He's pulling a fast one, but I can't quite see where it's 
  coming from yet. Obviously he can't wank himself off with totally no hands. 
  I just know that for a fact, so I'm on fairly safe ground agreeing to this bet, 
  especially if I lay down the ground rules. "Okay, but let's get this straight 
  then; you can wank off with totally no hands?"
  
  "Yep."
  
  "Face up, no rubbing yourself against the covers?"
  
  "Nope."
  
  "And you have an... err... orgasm?"
  
  "Yep."
  
  "You... you know."
  
  "What?" I can't resist a smirk; if he can't say it, he shouldn't 
  do it.
  
   "Cum, you cum?"
  
  "Oh yeah."
  
  "Visibly, I mean I want to see it over you."
  
  "Jees Mate! You really are an old poof, ain't yer?"
  
  "Okay! I take the bet. What's the bet?"
  
  "I thought you were positive I couldn't do this?"
  
  "I am, so what?"
  
  "Well, so you don't need to know what's gonna happen when you lose, do you?"
  
  Shit, little fucker's manoeuvred me into that one. Well, I'm not going to lose, 
  so I don't have to worry. But there's no reason not to have a contingency plan. 
  I watch him for a while as he lies on his stomach on the office couch. He's 
  bent his legs up behind and is idly swinging them whilst he's pretending to 
  read his magazine. Little git. I know he's not really reading, he's gloating 
  over his little victory and probably thinking up all sorts of really shitty 
  things he'd like to do to me if he wins. But, I'm not nearly one hundred years 
  older than him for nothing; I'm cleverer, more manipulative and more devious 
  than he can imagine - time for plan `B'. I casually wander over to him and sit 
  behind his legs. I place my hand on his perfect behind and start stroking it 
  in lazy circles, sweeping slowly down to between his legs, scratching my nail 
  over the seam in his jeans. Then I lean over a bit and slip one hand under him 
  and cup his very distinct bulge in my hand. Hah! I have never lost a bet to 
  him yet...
  
  "You ain't gonna get me to shag yer, mate, gotta save the little fellas for 
  later, ain't I?"
  
  Shit.
  
  So here we are. I mean, I am not the least worried because I know he can't do 
  this but, even so, I can't help but be slightly anxious about what he's thought 
  up for me in his sick little mind if I do lose. He's lying on the bed, propped 
  up on the headboard, naked, and I've made him put his hands behind his head. 
  He's sitting there with that intensely irritating smirk on his face and a sort 
  of cocky tilt to his head. I could hit him.
  
  Whether I bloody win or lose, (and I will win of course), 
  it doesn't really matter, cus this has been the best fucking fun I've had in 
  weeks. I've got him climbing the walls; he even came over to see if I had secret 
  strings here or something. He's so anal.
  
   I can't bear this, I really can't bear the little git sitting there 
  grinning at me. I'm never going to let him forget this humiliation when that 
  floppy little dick of his just stays there twitching. "Come on then, you bastard! 
  Get started."
  
  "I already have."
  
  And, oh shit! He has. I don't believe what I am seeing. He's got his eyes closed 
  and a slight frown on his face and his dick is rising. It's fucking rising on 
  its own, and it's swelling and I DO NOT believe this, it's starting to twitch 
  and it's incredibly engorged. I move to sit on the edge of the bed next to it. 
  And yeah, OK, I admit to it, I swipe my hand in the air a few times just over 
  the tip. It's like watching a cobra in an Indian snake-charming trick. There 
  must be a trick here. I don't know what's more erotic to watch, his freely moving 
  cock or the expression now on his face. He's moved his hands to clutch the covers 
  and his face is strained with whatever sick little fantasy he's come up with 
  to cause this. And suddenly I'm feeling pretty sick myself, cus I've just realised, 
  I'm going to lose a bet to Spike. Spike! 
  
  If I could open my eyes I bet I wouldn't see a happy Angel 
  right about now. But I can't, cus I'm slightly occupied here. But, shit, it's 
  like taking the proverbial candy from a baby. Angel is such an easy mark. I 
  knew he'd fall for it. It was all that `if I can't do it, you can't', crap. 
  Hit him right where it always hurts, his famed sexual prowess. What a wuss! 
  And if he's hating it now, wait till I get to the really good bit!
  
   I can see a bead of precum glistening on the very tip of his cock, but 
  that's not why I'm having to get myself out, that's not why I'm starting to 
  pull my cock slowly up and down. It's his face and his moans and... oh god, 
  it's his thrusting and... holy shit! He's cum! His cold seed is shooting out 
  of the engorged end of his cock all over his stomach and chest and I can't hold 
  back, I cum too, mixing my seed with his. I collapse on the bed beside him. 
  He is still lost in whatever fantasy he was using to bring about this WINNING 
  OF THE BET. And why did I do it? Why did I bet with Spike about anything? I 
  turn my head to look at him, and what a surprise. He is staring at me with that 
  self-satisfied smirk of his, and he's being sooo mature, sooo resisting the 
  urge to gloat.
  
  "Glad you didn't miss the show there Peaches! Didn't know it was interactive 
  though. But you just help yourself, mate."
  
  I cuff him hard on the back of the head. "Okay, big deal Spike, you win. What 
  do you want?"
  
  "Oh, you'll find out tomorrow sweets, wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, now 
  would I?"
  
  It's quite hard to sleep when you know Spike is lying alongside you planning 
  your fate. Every so often I hear little snickers coming from his side of the 
  bed and I know he knows that I can hear them. So, the best thing is to ignore 
  them, ignore him, but ohhh, that's actually quite hard to do when I feel his 
  tongue lightly graze up my back from the bottom of my spine to my hair line. 
  He swirls it around my shoulder blades and moves his hands around my waist to 
  lightly stroke my cock. I'm already hard and eager for his touch. "Yesss, ohh, 
  do that again, Spike."
  
  I love Angel. He's so easy, so predicable, and so easy to 
  piss off. "Do you like this then, pet? Do you like it when I do this, and this, 
  but hey, I've just remembered, anything I can do, you can do too, hey pet?"
  
  And with that I take my hands off his now very painful cock and snuggle down 
  on my side of the bed for some well-earned beauty sleep. 
  
   "NO! You git, Spike, 
  get back over here. Now! I'm your Sire, Spike. Spike. Pleaseeee. Okay, you win. 
  You're better than me, is that what you fucking well want to hear? Okay, you 
  are. Now bring me off."
  
  "Language love, I got delicate ears, mate. Ouch! Fucking hell, Angel, that hurts. 
  You coulda used some lube there, mate. You coulda... ahh."
  
  And with that, I effectively shut Spike up for a few minutes, because he's face 
  down in the mattress and I'm pounding into him. And Christ, this is good, I 
  was so ready for this. I take a firmer hold round his waist and slow down for 
  a few long, slow thrusts and lean back a little so I can watch the erotic sight 
  of my cock stretching Spike's hole. I take my thumbs and press hard on the base 
  of his balls as I speed up again and with a few last desperate thrusts, I cum 
  with great shuddering gasps.
  
  I collapse on top of him and lay my cheek against his shoulder. I slide my arms 
  under his and bring my hands round to join at the back of his neck. I couldn't 
  be any closer and I love the feeling of having him pinned down when he knows 
  that I know he could break free in an instance, if he wanted to. But he never 
  does.
  
  Poof loves this bit. He always likes to lie on me like this, 
  and I guess he's lucky I'm a pretty hard vampire who don't need to breath, cus 
  he is damn heavy and I feel totally crushed by his weight on me. But I never 
  try to get away. I could, of course, and he knows it. But I never do. Why try 
  to leave heaven?
  
   I start to drift into sleep, smelling Spike's skin, feeling Spike's 
  body under mine and... damn, I don't believe it, he is sniggering again and 
  I am just SO looking forward to whatever he has in store for me tomorrow.
  
  I've been pretty on edge all day. I'm sure Cordy and Wes are wondering what's 
  going on. Every time the phone goes, I jump. When a new client came in, I practically 
  made him strip because I was sure he was a Spike set-up. But nothing, it's nearly 
  time to knock-off and I'm still here, still intact, dignity still intact, everything 
  intact, which is very strange and extremely disturbing. I decide to have one 
  last cup of coffee before sending the team home and going down to find out what 
  Spike has been concocting all day. And, oh shit. When I get back to my desk 
  there's a small piece of paper on it. Nothing much, just a piece of paper, nothing 
  to frighten the Scourge of Europe, is it? But it does. So I might as well just 
  face my fate head on. So I open it and... 
  
  Hah. Pillock's probably read my note by now. Bet he was 
  wetting himself all day. Oh, I love fucking with Angel's mind. He so desperately 
  needs to lighten up and have some fun. He'll be here soon. Hope this works. 
  
  
   "Downstairs NOW!" That's 
  all it said. So I send Cordy and Wes home and do as I am told. Best not to start 
  this off by upsetting Spike. He can get very angsty when one of his famous plans 
  goes wrong. 
  
  But when I get into the apartment, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I 
  wasn't expecting this. Now this HAS thrown me, and that doesn't happen very 
  often. The lights are low and supplemented by candles, there's soft music on 
  the stereo, and Spike... Spike is sitting naked in our bed, his legs bent up 
  to his chest and his chin resting on his folded arms. And he's not doing anything. 
  He's just staring at me, and I feel a shiver of anticipation run down my spine. 
  I'm hard just looking at him. His eyes bore into me and I'm drawn over to the 
  bed. 
  
  "So, what's the bet then? What are you going to do to me?" I'm nervous, even 
  though I can't sense anything threatening here.
  
  "I'm gonna show you."
  
  "What?"
  
  "Show you."
  
  "Show me what Spike?"
  
  "Show you how I do it, so you can too."
  
  And with that he reaches out and pulls me onto the bed with him and starts to 
  unbutton my shirt. And I'm putty in his hands because I am so shocked by this 
  unexpected turn of events. I can't work out if this Spike I see before me is 
  the same Spike I left in bed this morning. The candlelight softens the sharp 
  angles of his face and his hands are gentle as he slides my pants over my hips. 
  He looks up at me through those dark eyelashes, almost coyly and brushes his 
  thumb over my lips. 
  
  "I think I'll always lose bets to you from now on, Spike," I say with a grin.
  
  I put us both on our knees facing each other and explain 
  what we have to do and the old poof's looking incredulous already.
  
    "It won't work."
  
  "It might."
  
  "Spike, it can't possibly! It was just a fantasy in your head. It won't work 
  for real."
  
  "Gotta be worth a try though, mate."
  
  And that's how we end up bathed in candlelight, naked on the bed, trying to 
  recreate Spike's no-hands-to-wank, fantasy. 
  
  We kneel up, put our foreheads together and I put one hand 
  on the back of Angel's neck and he puts one hand on mine. And this is exactly 
  how I picture this when I do my trick. We have to keep eye contact all the way 
  through, that's crucial. And then we start. We each start stroking our dicks, 
  slowly, together at first and then faster as we get caught up in our own rhythms. 
  And even I don't really believe this is going to work, cus I just made this 
  thing up in my head one day when I was passin' the time. But it's good to try.
  
  I keep his eye contact just like Spike told me too and I can feel incredible 
  pressure building in my balls and I'm desperate to look down and see our cocks 
  together, but I don't. And just at the right moment when I see it in his face, 
  we do it, we touch the swollen and sensitive ends of our cocks together and 
  swirl them round and I feel myself coming and I'm staring into those piercing, 
  ice-blue eyes and ahhh, it's happened. Fucking incredible …
  
  This is fucking incredible! It worked! I don't believe it, 
  it was just my fantasy but it's worked. I was staring into Peaches' deep brown 
  eyes, but now I'm not. Now I'm staring into blue eyes, I'm staring into my eyes 
  and I am in Angel's body and, oh God, I am holding Angel's dick and it's nearly 
  ready to cum and holy shit, I can feel what Angel feels when we fuck. I can 
  feel just how sensitive this side of his cock is when I do this... ahhh. And 
  I can feel its different shape from mine and its texture and how it feels to 
  pull the foreskin back just like this. And something I'd never really focused 
  on in my fantasy of this, I can see my own pupils widen in expectation of the 
  orgasm my body is having, the orgasm that Angel is enjoying right now...
  
   Oh God, oh God, oh God, I will never doubt Spike again, and pleaseee 
  God remind me to bet with him again. And lose. Cus I am in Spike's body and 
  I am feeling his cock being worked by his hand but I feel every ridge and sensitive 
  place as if it were my own. And I get such a strong sense of how he feels during 
  sex, his restless passion, his need for release, his stamina, and I see my dark, 
  brown eyes staring back at me and it's bizarre, my face has just grinned at 
  me in a totally Spike grin. I didn't think my face muscles knew how to grin 
  like that. And still we keep eye contact and then there's no doubt where we 
  are going because I feel Spike's orgasm rushing upon me and I throw back his 
  head and hear myself howling in his voice and I hear my voice from my body screaming 
  my name, "Angellllll."
  
  I know I'm screaming his name, I can't help it. The most 
  intense orgasm rips through this body and I know what Angel feels when he's 
  inside me, I know what he feels when I blow him or wank him off, cus I'm feeling 
  it now and it's like a tidal wave and it gives him power and domination and 
  sends him to a place where his demon can be free.
  
  It's like his music; Spike's orgasm feels like his music, it's loud and pounding, 
  and it makes this whole body feel alive, and its like hot nights and cold beers 
  and noooo. 
  
  I'm back in my own body and I cum in huge ropey strands over our hands and I 
  can't resist the urge to look down and Spike does too, and I can't believe how 
  erotic it is to know what he is feeling as his cold seed splashes against my 
  belly. And to know he understands what I'm feeling right now. We both collapse 
  onto the bed and he's laughing and I can't help it, I do too. I take his head 
  in my sticky hands and kiss him deeply, pushing my tongue between his grinning 
  lips. "Thank you", I mouth against him. And he returns my kiss with long, hard 
  passionate thrusts of his tongue around my mouth.
  
  "Wanna do it again?"
  
  I've never done this before. I can't believe there was anything Spike and I 
  had not done together, but I've never done this. I've watched him wank himself 
  off thousands of times. He does it for fun whenever he thinks I need enticing 
  to bed, or cheering up, or well, I guess anytime he feels like it. But I never 
  have. I have never masturbated in front of Spike. I even use that word in my 
  head to think of this act and that doesn't help, cus it takes me back to those 
  god-awful monks when I was a child in Ireland, and their talk of unclean acts. 
  So this is something I've always kept private, even from Spike. Although I'm 
  pretty sure he knows why I sometimes shower alone. And he doesn't seem to mind. 
  So this is very...
  
  Poor old git is embarrassed. I can sense it. He's on the 
  bed, his hands behind his head and he's stark-bollock naked. And I'm sittin' 
  alongside him. Just for moral support you understand. Cus he's gonna try it. 
  He's gonna try the no-hands trick. He just needs to concentrate.
  
   I just need to concentrate. But it's incredibly hard to, knowing that 
  Spike is inches away from me, staring at me. I don't open my eyes, don't need 
  to because I just KNOW he is grinning with that incredibly irritating smirk 
  on his face. But here goes. I put myself back into last night. And in my mind 
  I stare into Spike's eyes, and I feel my cock in my hand and I'm starting to 
  come and we touch the swollen, purple ends together and...
  
  Jees, must be working cus Angel's cock is tighter than OJ's 
  glove and the tip is bulging out, raw and purple and it's banging against his 
  belly and I can see the precum glistening on the end.
  
   I'm there again, in Spike's body, feeling Spike's ripping orgasm and 
  I let it come, and I know it's worked when I feel my cold seed splash on my 
  belly. And I am gently brought out of the fantasy by Spike's cold tongue licking 
  me clean. I pull him to me and wrap my arms around him so he is lying on my 
  chest, his head turned into the hollow of my neck. I can't resist the urge to 
  rub my face in his hair, and he twists his face to look up at me. 
  
  "You're gonna be in big trouble if you do this on your own in the shower from 
  now on, mate, cus that was too good to miss."
  
  I feel the need to reassert my Sire role a bit here. Spike's been getting way 
  too cocky since he won that bet.
  
  "If I don't want to mastur... err... wank in front of you, I won't Spike. It's 
  my choice."
  
  "Not really Mate."
  
  "What do you mean, why not?"
  
  "Cus peaches, I can make you come anytime I want just by staring at your cock. 
  You could even be asleep."
  
  "You can't!"
  
  "I can."
  
  "You cannot."
  
  "Wanna bet?"
  
  "Nooooooo!"
The End
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