eyezrthewindows
NC-17 Spike/various (het and slash)
Spike has a kink for virgins, and he doesn’t care who gets hurt satisfying it.
Warnings for Spike being a bastard. Some sex with a minor. A little cohersion, a little drug use, a little prostitution. Advantage-taking of the worst, best order.
Beta’d by Kitty Poker
See Disclaimer of Ownership here
Spike spent three precious months of his life getting into Buffy's panties.
He'd thought it would be worth the wait in the end. It had to be, right? With that body and those lips...
She said she wanted to wait for the perfect moment in their 'relationship' to go 'all the way' because she wasn't 'like that' and didn't want to be branded an easy girl.
Spike didn't respect that but he went along with it because she had the smoothest, most perfectly golden skin he'd ever seen and he wanted to see if it was like that all over.
Turned out it was. She went to a tanning salon once or twice a week and tanned nude.
When he finally got to fuck her, he slid inside slowly -- because despite his love 'em and leave 'em tendencies he didn't like to hurt them -- and discovered something...well, not interesting but something that pissed him off so quickly he thought the top of his head would blow off.
And not in the mind-blowingly good orgasmic way.
He pushed inside fully. There was no barrier. She felt no pain. She bucked her hips upward in response and clawed at his shoulders for more; she knew what she was doing.
His eyes narrowed, lips tightening angrily as his fists clenched into the bedsheets on either side of her. He tensed up all over and nearly pulled out of her right then because he was sickened by the sight of her, the feel of her.
He looked at her and she had her eyes closed with an expression of bliss on her face, unaware of his inner turmoil.
He'd have given her the benefit of the doubt because some girls didn't feel much pain at all during their first penetrations, some guys either, but for one thing.
She didn't look surprised by the sensation of a cock inside her, feel discomfort at the weight of him atop her. She'd positioned her hips perfectly, her body wrapped around his like a satiny glove.
She'd lied to him.
She wasn't a virgin.
He soldiered onward, though, fucked her and him both into Orgasm Land because, even though he really didn't want to be around her one second longer, he wasn't about to ruin his reputation in the sack.
When she was still lying in the afterglow, heading toward sleep, he dressed and sneaked out of her apartment.
From then on, he looked to the slightly younger crowd. He should've known twenty-three was too old to be a virgin.
Sweet Tara was a virgin in every sense of the word despite her twenty years of age. He could tell by how shy and naive she was, how she curled inward and almost flinched when he attempted to touch her. She was a stutterer, which made her even sweeter; it was endearing.
She wasn't a good kisser, had never been touched by another man's hands or lips or cock and he was just the man to bring her those first experiences.
She welcomed him into her bed and into her softness a mere month after they met because she really was that naive and she was well worth those four weeks of wooing.
The look of awe and wonder -- and delicious discomfort as her hymen broke -- that crossed her face as she clutched him hard against her when he pushed his way inside what had been No-Man's Land was beautiful.
She sobbed out her pain and even bled for him and when she had her first climax her soft cries were the sweetest song he'd ever heard.
He came harder than he had in months in the cradle of her voluptuous thighs, the scent of her homemade herbal shampoo filling his nostrils as he panted into her sweat-damped hair.
He licked the tears from her face and spoke softly to her until he put on his clothes and left.
The library was always a good place to pick up virgins. Because what normal, red-blooded, sexually active person went to the library on a weekend? Weekends were prime times for going out and finding someone to fuck.
He didn't mind looking through poetry books and scoping out his potential targets from the vantage point of narrow aisles. He spent many weekends behind dusty book shelves watching kids running around with harried parents or staff walking quickly after them, attempting to subdue them with hissed words that didn't seem to have any effect. The odd grade-schooler or middle-aged person researching something turned up now and again but those weren't to his taste.
And then he met Wesley.
Wesley was a fellow Englishman, tall and shy, with obvious low self-esteem, in his mid-twenties, and just what the doctor ordered.
Spike was attracted to him immediately.
He went over and introduced himself to a stammering, flushed Wesley, who barely looked him in the eyes as he shook Spike's hand.
He spent every weekend at the library, turned out. The very calling card of a virgin.
Spike let his fingertips linger and caress Wesley's sensually, opening up the first stages of bargaining to get into Wesley's tight little ass. The touch was electric and made him hard almost immediately.
Wesley was more difficult to get to than Tara had been but not as hard as Buffy had been.
All Spike had to do was to play William, cultured and soft and sweet and shy, a man Wesley could relate to.
He didn't mind it, exactly, but he hadn't been William in a very long time because Spike was cooler and got a lot more ass than William ever had, or could ever hope to.
He invited Wesley back to his obsessively cleaned apartment, neat and tidy and in no way revealing his true intentions or his real personality, and when Wesley leaned forward to buss him sloppily, inexpertly, on the lips, he feigned shock.
"Wesley? Whatever are you doing?" he asked wide-eyed, leaning away from the taller man, though not moving from his seat on the couch. His groin tightened and the flame of desire licked at his balls.
Wesley flushed crimson and started fidgeting and stammering, quite an attractive trait that would do him well in hooking macho men into wanting to take care of and dominate him.
Made Spike want to do all sorts of domineering things, it did.
"I-I thought...I, er... You don't...? Oh, dear," Wesley stuttered, dropping his head into his hands. "I've made a grave mistake. I-I imagined the chemistry between us for something...different than it is, apparently. Please, forgive me, William. I don't want to ruin our friendship with what I've done. If you can forget it...we can move past this and resume our usual relationship..."
Spike covered his sly grin with one hand, even though Wesley couldn't see it through all the blubbering. He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around narrow, bony shoulders and rubbed his thumb over Wesley's neck.
"It's all right, Wes. You...You didn't imagine it. I-I felt something, too. Something...I've never before felt. I wasn't sure..."
He bit his lip and softened his eyes and expression appropriately into innocence and confusion and wonder so that by the time Wesley lifted his head he was hit full force with it.
Wesley's breath quickened and his blue eyes dropped to Spike's lips. "C-Can I kiss you again?"
Spike moistened the lips Wesley couldn't seem to stop staring at. "I'd like that very much."
*
The sex was a bit awkward and fumbling because Wesley tried to top him at first, and Spike didn't do that, but once Wesley accepted his position on the bottom, face down, legs spread with Spike behind him, it went fairly smoothly.
Spike fucked Wesley slow and deep, hands tight on thin hips, body tense as he moved.
When he came, he jerked hard and felt Wesley convulse around him as his own climax washed over him.
Spike hadn't even touched Wesley's dick. He'd come without a single touch.
That was a rare feat achieved by Spike and wrung another spurt of semen from his body as the power of the action crept over him.
He loved it when he could do such magical things.
This was why virgins were the best fucks. They didn't know any better and let Spike do whatever he wanted.
And they had such sweet responses to what he did.
Lindsey was a backwater cowboy from Texas on holiday to the 'big city' for a couple of weeks at the urgings of his mates back home. He wanted to be shown the nightlife and what it was like to live in LA.
Spike found him by accident at the supermarket on one of his rare trips there. Normally, he ordered in or went out to eat.
He was thanking the Powers for their intervention in making the last of his coffee disappear so that he had to go out and buy more.
Lindsey was in the snack aisle when Spike happened upon him.
Spike took a long look at the tanned man with the slight shadow of beard stubble and long hair that had actual real highlights and decided he had to have him.
He wasn't tall but he was well-built for his compact size. World class ass, long legs and fingers, tight torso from what Spike could see underneath the atrocious button up flannel he wore, and the cowboy hat he was wearing hid most of his face but Spike knew he had to talk to him, do a lot of things to him.
He cocked his eyebrow and a hip, thrusting his groin forward for the most optimal viewing when cowboy turned around. "What are you concentrating so hard on? Not rocket science, is it?"
His eyes stayed on the man's muscled thighs and ass until he forced his gaze upward to catch his gaze when he turned around.
Wide blue eyes shadowed by the brim of a black Stetson flickered in Spike's direction and Spike had to swallow hard to contain his excitement.
He was as pretty as he'd thought he'd be. And he had the sky blue eyes to match.
Spike grinned an easy smile and Lindsey smiled tentatively back, clutching his partially filled shopping basket to his body with one arm.
"Nah, it isn't, but I can get all these at home. Eat 'em all the time. Wanted something a little different but it seems everything's the same old shit. Guess it was dumb, expectin' something all glamorous. LA people eat the same shit as everyone else, I s'pose. That's mildly disappointin'."
"If you were expecting something shiny and special like Christmas because it's California you'll be sorely disappointed, cowboy. They maybe pretty and very well-paid, bordering on over-paid, people but celebrities are still human just like you and me. Still wipe their asses after they take a shit and everything." Spike's smile would've turned predatory if he hadn't been directly facing his new prey. "Well... I'm Will. Not all that glamorous, really, but I'm different and you can't get me at home."
He rolled his hips just a bit and Lindsey's eyes darted down to Spike's groin, widening.
Ah ha. So Spike was his type. Brilliant.
Lindsey looked startled for a moment before he reluctantly smiled and relaxed, face a little pink. "Don't suppose I can. Name's Lindsey."
*
He followed Lindsey back to his hotel room because Lindsey didn't feel comfortable following a stranger back to his place -- as if it would've mattered where he got fucked, Spike thought amusedly. Not that Spike would've allowed him back to his own place, anyway.
They were of the same mind when it came to strangers.
It didn't take long to get Lindsey out of his cowboy outfit, though his tight boots were nearly impossible to peel him out of. The attempt at getting them off sent him stumbling unattractively and cursing, frustrated, and he didn't even manage to remove them -- Lindsey merely grinned and toed them off at the heels easily after that.
When he was naked and Spike stripped off his own clothing, Spike cocked his head to the side, stroking his own prick with a slow, even pull and tug that made Lindsey unable to breathe properly or turn his eyes away.
"Leave the hat on," Spike finally said.
Lindsey obliged him and Spike prepared him thoroughly, leaned back against the headboard padded by cheap hotel pillows and patted his thigh.
"Want to see how you cowpokes ride back home."
Lindsey took a deep breath and started reluctantly moving with: "I ain't done this before, gotta be gentle, like, and slow..." and almost immediately went to: "Fuck, you sweet bastard! Give it to me. Fuck me. Give me all you got. I want it all." And, he then rode Spike into a stuttering, almost explosive oblivion.
His tan stopped roughly where his underwear lay and his short-sleeved shirt ended and Spike was oddly fascinated by it. His cowboy hat stayed on his head the entire time; it was like magic.
And, God, it was good.
Oz was a stoner high school senior from Sunnydale. Small town, despite it being in California and only about a hundred miles south of LA. He'd never been so far away from home but he'd come to LA for a gig with his garage band.
Spike was in the bar they played that night and found himself entranced by the tiny red-haired, fair-skinned teenager.
He got backstage, smoked some hash and marijuana with Oz and his band and easily got into Oz's pants.
Oz was quiet and mellow and a virgin, yes, but he let Spike do everything he wanted and then some because the drugs made him even more pliable, and horny.
Pale skin that was splotched with freckles got greedily licked and sucked by Spike. He'd never seen so many on one person before. It was a novel experience.
Spike sucked Oz's cock until the boy cried out, near orgasm, and then stopped because he liked having the leverage.
Oz blinked up at him with dilated green eyes and turned over without another word because he knew what Spike wanted and he was too far gone to say no.
Spike hitched himself up against Oz's back and eased inside him on a slick trail of herbal massage oil that smelled like oranges.
Oz howled when he came. Spike bit the milky neck in front of him when he did.
He was in a bookstore when he ran into Willow.
Sweet, luscious, red-haired Willow with her creamy skin and soft green eyes.
Her fuzzy sweaters and shapeless skirts did very little for her taut little body but Spike could see the potential from the moment they met.
She was in the 'Self Improvement' aisle.
Spike figured he could give her all the help she'd ever need.
They had surprisingly little in common, despite his initial assessment of her personality.
She was into women's rights and equal opportunity employment, computers and wicca despite her Jewish background.
He was into tight holes he could fuck and ways to get there; didn't give a damn about any of the other crap she cared about.
So, it was a hellish five and a half weeks for him as he spent night after night going to rallies and ballets and shows at the theatre with her. She even forced him to a musical concert featuring her favourite girl band -- it sucked, but at least the women wore skimpy outfits and bounced around in bra-less states.
One night after an especially exciting female empowerment rally -- for her, not him -- she kissed him and didn't stop.
Spike really didn't have a problem with that.
They went back to her college dorm -- she looked younger than her nineteen years so the dorm room surprised him a bit -- and he backed her to the bed, pushed her gently down and unpeeled the awful clothes from her luscious little form.
Her body was as sweet and ripe as he'd imagined for all these weeks.
He suckled her into blossom and then deflowered her with slow rotations of his hips that caused her to curl tightly around him.
She whimpered in his ear and pawed at his back and clutched at him almost hard enough to hurt.
He grunted as he pushed inside her a final time and then rubbed her clit to bring her over.
He kissed her, said his goodbyes, dressed and whistled on his way home.
Faith was dying to get fucked. She just had that look about her, Spike decided as he eyed her from his position filling his car with petrol at the gas station.
She was behind her post at the counter, wearing one of those lame name tags pinned to her shirt, looking as bored as bored could be.
She had to be sixteen, seventeen at most.
Cherry lips were dying to be tasted. As was something else, he'd wager.
He desperately hoped she was a virgin.
His pants tightened and as he walked up to the counter to pay for his fuel he caught her kohl-lined gaze. He saw her interest perk right up as her eyes ratcheted down to his groin and then perused the rest of him.
Her eyes widened and he could see her breasts heave beneath her tight t-shirt, nipples puckering against the thin material even through her bra.
He could almost smell her arousal.
He pulled out his wallet with a seductive curl of his lips. "Hello, Faith," he said, glancing at the name tag conveniently located over one ample breast ready to burst out of her too small bra and low-cut tee. He gaze lingered there. "Nice...shirt."
Faith grinned, pressed her chest forward even more, looked outside into the darkness then beckoned him closer with one dark-painted nail.
He leaned forward.
She whispered, "Men's john in ten. Go move your car some place it won't be seen. Oh, and the accent is killer, handsome...can't wait to hear you say some other shit."
Spike grinned triumphantly and went outside to move his car. When he came back inside Faith put a 'closed' sign on the door, locked it, and nearly yanked his arm out of its socket as she pulled him back to the bathrooms.
She slammed him against the wall inside and nearly sucked the lips right off his face.
Knew very much what she wanted, unlike any other virgin he'd been with.
"Christ, you're a feisty one. Your boyfriends all get this treatment?" he asked, fishing for details about her sexual experience without trying to be obvious about it. She seemed sure of herself, knowledgeable... He wanted to get the info about her before it went too far and he ended up having to shag her anyway, because he would; he just wouldn't have nearly as much fun.
She grinned up at him, dark eyes glittering. "Never had a boyfriend, though I do like to make out a lot. Those little pricks at school don't do a thing for me. Always knew I was waitin' for the right..." She moved back a step and her eyes roved his body. She looked very satisfied with his appearance and, frankly, he couldn't blame her, "...man to come and do the right thing by me. Known for a long time what I want. Bet you know a lot of...tricks. No way you don't know your way around a girl's body. No fumbling or awkward petting, slobbering or teeth clacking..."
He picked her up and placed her on the sink. Her short little skirt was easy to maneuver around and he rucked it up around her hips as he dragged her body forward. Kneeling on the floor, he said, "Lean back and brace yourself, luv. Gonna be a bumpy ride."
"Oh, fuck," she breathed as she did as she was told, heavily mascara'd eyelashes fluttering shut as his mouth found her hot center.
"You're a bad girl, not wearing knickers."
"Don't like 'em, they bind. Shut up and go down on me, already. Have to get back to work in a minute or my boss'll kill me if he finds out I shut down the store to get nookie with some strange dude I ain't never met before."
Spike chuckled and stuck his tongue inside her, gently smoothing his thumb over her clit as she thrashed above him. Her thighs trembled against his neck.
When she was thoroughly wet and primed, he pulled away, undid his pants and stood up. "Want to put the rubber on me or..."
She heartily took control of the protection and rolled it onto him with ease, even going so far as to pinch the tip to leave room at the end.
Spike raised an eyebrow.
Faith shrugged, cheeks dimpling as she grinned, looking perfectly edible and slutty with her legs open and her pretty little pussy glistening with her arousal and Spike's saliva. "One thing good I learned in school is how to put a jimmy hat on a dick...we used bananas, but...same damn thing. Now, fuck me!"
Spike was eager to oblige the lady and held onto her hips as he slipped inside her tight heat.
"Nobody's been in you like this, have they, pet? Not going to have anyone like me ever again. Going to ruin you for everyone else, ain't I?"
"Sure are full of yourself, aren't you?" she grunted biting her lip.
Spike knew he had a reason to be full of himself. When you fucked as much as he did, well, it was hard not to be good at it.
He gasped as he felt her spasm around him and listened to her sweet cries of pleasure and slight hiss of pain as he pushed deeper.
He shushed her and waited until she slapped him on the arm, trying to get him to move.
He glanced down at where they were joined, watching himself move in and out of her easily on the slickness of her arousal. He groaned and had to look away and just happened to meet his own eyes in the mirror behind her head.
He moistened his lips and watched his own face as he fucked her. He couldn't look away from himself, his expression.
He never knew he looked this good when he was having sex.
He might have to practice this little newly discovered kink again sometime because watching himself was making him even harder inside her tight little quim.
He slammed into her, she tightened her legs around him, shoving at him with her booted heels to get him deeper.
He held onto her hips as he continued to drive into her and held his own gaze, forcing his eyes to stay open as he came.
His pupils dilated, his cheeks flushed, his lips swelled, his skin glistened with sweat.
Faith's climax was an afterthought as he felt her pulse around him.
His expression was full of awe and pleasure as he met his own eyes and spilled.
Rupert Giles was an old mate of his father's he'd always had a bit of a crush on. While William Sr. had been alive, Spike had been the child doted on by both men.
Now that Spike was grown and daddy was long dead, it was time to collect on his little lust crush; he figured it had been a long time...coming.
He called Giles up and invited him over for some tea to discuss old times.
Giles readily agreed, unaware of Spike's ulterior motives.
Spike greeted him at the door with a grin and just a small towel around his hips. He'd timed his shower just right so Giles would arrive just as he was washing and he'd have to hurry to get to the door.
Giles stared at him, those powder blue eyes of his widening and dilating. He cleared his throat. "I don't think I'm early... You did say half past two?"
Spike smothered a grin, gestured for him to come in and shut the door. He panted, only slightly forced, after his little job to the door. "Yeah, it was two-thirty. Was running a bit late, sorry. Never had a head for being on time. Go ahead and get yourself a drink. Bar's over there."
He skinned into tight black jeans that hugged his ass and cupped his package and left the button-down shirt he pulled on open. He let his hair dry in its naturally curly state after vigorously scrubbing it with a towel and wandered back in to find Giles seated on the sofa, drink in one hand braced on his knee, legs spread and noticeable erection bulging out from between the V of his legs.
"Rupert?"
Giles started, nearly spilling his drink as he hastily grabbed a pillow to cover his arousal. "Er, sorry."
"It's all right. Haven't seen you in a while. What've you been up to?" Spike seated himself close enough to be almost too close but not quite that close to Giles.
Giles swallowed, blinking behind the lenses of his glasses as he obviously had a difficult time keeping his eyes on Spike's face and not on the acres of skin Spike had left purposely bare. He took them off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "William, I don't know what you're up to but--"
"Not up to anything, Rupes. Just wanted to have an old friend over to talk about old times, is all. Is that wrong?"
Giles put his drink down and settled a little further away. "No, I don't suppose it is. I think I'm growing senile in my old age."
Spike chuckled and moved closer, placing one hand on Giles' warm thigh. When the muscle tensed, he began kneading it and moved perilously nearer to Giles' straining erection.
"Will--"
"We're old friends, Rupert. You knew my da, I've known you since I was a kid...I think we both know where this is leading. It's been heading there for a long time, hasn't it?"
"You're like a son to me. This can't happen! It would be wrong. Almost incestuous!"
Spike moved quickly and straddled Giles' lap, grinding down into it, showing Giles his own heavy arousal. Giles groaned and Spike looped his arms around Giles' neck, forcing them closer.
"Look at me, Rupert."
Giles hastily opened his eyes, looking a little more than mildly panicked behind the lenses of his glasses.
"Take off your specs."
Giles took off his glasses, apparently unable to do anything else.
"Kiss me."
Giles took a breath and hesitated.
"I'm not a child anymore, Rupert. I'm twenty-four years old now. I'm a man." He grabbed one of Giles' hands and placed the palm on his swollen cock. "Feel like a man, don't I?"
"Dear God, this is wrong but...I can't fight it anymore. All these thoughts I've had about you over the years...they're boiling over. I've never felt the desire for another man that I feel for you." Giles sighed, shoved his free hand into Spike's hair and yanked their mouths together.
Jackpot.
Spike didn't have to do much coaxing after that. He got the older man naked and face down on the couch, pulled some lube from beneath a cushion and finger-fucked him until Giles was begging for the real thing.
Spike lowered himself down onto his back as he eased inside him and fucked him slow and deep.
Giles was quivering and nearly sobbing by the time Spike sped up the pace and fucked them to climax.
He was nearly mugged when some poor street kid with the smoothest chocolate skin and darkest, deepest eyes he'd ever seen saved him and his wallet.
The kid couldn't have been more than sixteen. He was grubby and remarkably well-muscled, considering how thin he was. His head was clean-shaven and his eyes were full of sadness and hopelessness and need; they were also hard and wary and world-weary.
Spike pushed himself off the ground -- he'd been knocked there during the scuffle -- and brushed himself off. "Thanks, kid. Don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come to my rescue."
"My name's Gunn, not kid, and I only did what I had to because the streets are a harsh bitch and you looked like you could use the help."
Spike smirked. "I'm Spike. And thanks for the help."
Gunn snorted. "Ain't no problem. Just should watch where you're goin' next time. This is Skreeto territory and they don't take kindly to white dudes coming around on their turf. They think they deserve your wallet for you gettin' to wander around here. Like a toll road or somethin'."
Gunn started to walk away but Spike said, "Anything I can do to pay you back for what you've done?"
Gunn's eyes flickered. "I ain't for sale. I don't need white man's money. Look somewhere else for a charity case 'cause I don't need it."
Spike saw the need in the kid's eyes. He almost had him. He could taste it.
"It's not charity," Spike hastily added, "I just feel the need to repay you for what you did. Without you coming to my aid I might've ended up injured or even dead."
Well, that was a lie. Spike could handle himself pretty well and after his initial surprise at his attack he'd have wiped the floor with the little git's ass. But Gunn didn't need to know that.
Gunn looked at the long metal rebar he'd used to get rid of Spike's would-be mugger, which was flecked with the thief's blood. "I did what I do everyday. I don't want nothin' in return. It ain't no big deal. If it hadn't been you it would've been somebody else."
He shrugged big shoulders and started to leave again.
"What if...you earned it?"
Gunn's back tensed but he didn't leave. Spike could tell he was listening.
"Earned it?"
"Yeah..." Spike drawled, tucking a thumb into one of the belt loops on his jeans. His jeans pressed and rubbed against his cock as he shifted and he closed his eyes briefly.
"How would I go about doing that?"
"You could do something...personal for me. Help me out with something that you wouldn't normally do for others..."
Gunn swung around, eyes narrowed. "You sound like you're trying to buy my ass."
"Is that what it sounds like?" Spike arched an eyebrow.
"How much you offering?"
Spike could tell it pained the poor kid to ask that but Gunn needed the money and he knew Spike knew that too.
Spike licked his lips, knowing he'd hooked himself a grade-A piece of street boy ass. "Two hundred."
Gunn's eyes widened. He breathed long and hard, nervous. "I-I gotta place that's more private..."
"Lead on."
"I'll need the money up front when we get there. Ain't doin' nothin' without the cash first."
"Wouldn't dream of taking without paying, Gunn. I'm a fair man, after all."
*
He handed the kid a creased hundred dollar bill and five twenties and watched Gunn jam the wad protectively into the inside of his well-worn jean jacket.
Gunn stripped like he was in front of a firing squad, revealing rippling muscles and perfect physique, only shaking slightly; was putting on a good show of not being nervous or new to this but Spike knew differently, could read the kid like a book. His eyes revealed everything his blank face hid.
Starvation was a good look on him. So was terror.
Spike gestured toward the mattress Gunn had led him to, watched as Gunn folded his clothing too neatly and placed it carefully nearby. "Hands and knees."
Gunn swallowed but looked defiant. "If you're gonna see me naked, I get to see you naked. Get your clothes off, white bread."
Spike grinned, delighted, and skinned out of his own gear proudly. His cock jutted out from his body, leaking pearls of fluid from the tip. Gunn couldn't help but stare at it nervously, dark eyes wide and scared. He was breathing shallow and fast.
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. I'm not going to hurt you. Anymore than is necessary, anyway," he added.
Gunn's gaze flickered back up to Spike's and he nodded sharply. "All right. Let's get this done. I gotta go get some stuff for my little sister now that I've got some money."
Ah, this was going to be a good fuck and a good deed all rolled into one.
Who said Spike only thought of himself?
Gunn got on his hands and knees, quivering and shaking as Spike applied lubricant to his ass and slid a few fingers in to loosen him. The slick condom made his entrance almost too smooth, breaching Gunn's body quite easily. Gunn bit back a whimper of pain, choking on it, but Spike heard and reveled in the sound. When he was flush up against Gunn's body he began to suckle the knobs of Gunn's spine to see if the skin tasted as good as it looked.
It did.
He began to thrust, slowly at first but he built up speed and power. Soon Gunn was whimpering and begging and thrashing beneath him, cursing him to try to get him to go deeper or harder or faster.
He hit Gunn's prostate and the kid nearly jumped out of his skin, howling with unexpected pleasure.
He was obviously enjoying this nearly as much as Spike was, despite his initial reluctance.
Spike grinned against Gunn's back and sawed in and out quickly, squeezing the smooth globes of Gunn's ass with both hands.
The mattress was grimy and stank slightly of urine and must and sweat but the fuck more than made up for that.
When Gunn came shortly before Spike did, jerking his own cock with long, dark fingers full of desperation, Spike figured the mattress would accumulate another smell.
He should've known when he met her in the toy department at Target playing with Barbie dolls and talking to them almost seriously that she'd be nuttier than a fruitcake.
And she was. Batty. Insane. Schizo. Off her bird. Out of her tree. Lost her mind. Thought she saw visions and talked to an invisible doll called Miss Edith, who apparently told her the future.
Drusilla was a dark beauty unlike anyone he'd ever met. Palest skin he'd ever seen, like creamy milk, willowy limbs with surprising strength, taut little body wrapped in a corseted bodice. Her green eyes were wise and a little insane. He had to have her despite her raving lunacy.
She came along eagerly, clinging to his arm, speaking about the pleasure of throbbing lightning and thunder.
About blossoms and flowers, pistols and stamens. Rocking of horses and the smell of leather and lace.
Somehow she knew he was going to take her but she didn't seem to mind. Maybe she didn't know any better.
She barked and growled like a dog, meowed and purred, and occasionally didn't seem to be looking at him so much as through him but Spike didn't let that stop him from pounding her into the backseat of his car.
The velvety skirts of her long dress rucked up around her waist; he had to yank open her bodice to get to her pert little breasts so he could see the creamy silk of her body, so he could touch her.
She was slim and beautiful and responsive.
Her pretty pink quim opened for him as he plunged into her. He rode her until she was singing nursery rhymes, which was really odd and almost ruined the moment and his childhood, and soon came with her clinging to him with sharp red nails.
She scratched his neck until he bled and then licked up the drops with a catty grin that was sort of creepy.
"The cat got the cream, didn't she? Even through the lovely pain and the new attention it brought her. She didn't have a home but she came home with a lovely present. Miss Edith was so pleased she sang to the stars herself. Meow!"
He couldn't stop himself from continuing the fuck because he was almost there.
While she suckled her bloody fingertips he grunted out his orgasm into her silky, dark hair.
Afterwards, he saw the news and realised she was an escaped mental patient who'd been traumatized when her entire family was killed when she was a young girl. She'd murdered a dress maker and stolen the dress she currently wore but he couldn't seem to make himself care because the fuck had been sweet.
Yeah, he was probably a sick bastard.
Andrew was clingy. He likened lust to love and idolized Spike from the moment he clapped eyes on him.
Of course, that was after Andrew had been vying for his attention the whole night, staring at him constantly with big cow eyes that Spike could feel like a physical touch.
He was cute in a geeky sort of way but he was annoying and wouldn't shut the hell up.
He was definitely a virgin, though. Nobody that nerdy could be anything but.
Spike shut him up the only way he knew how. He shoved his tongue into the kid's mouth and taught him how to kiss properly.
Before a few minutes had passed, Andrew was clinging to him like a limpet and kissing like he'd been doing it for years already.
Spike took him to the bathroom of the club they were in -- no idea how the boy had gotten in there in the first place, though...didn't look eighteen or cool enough to get through the front door -- backed him into one of the stalls, locked the door and proceeded to press into him with little preparation because he'd been hard for so long he didn't care if he gave the boy a little more pain than was necessary.
Andrew whimpered and cried out in pain, nails scraping against the dirty wall with inked names and messages all over, tense and generally annoying. He complained about the dirty floor ruining his trousers and the grungy walls he had to touch to hold himself still for Spike.
Apparently, there were germs everywhere and the git wanted some Purel.
Spike grit his teeth and fucked slowly, as gently as he possibly could, until Andrew quieted and started pushing back to meet his thrusts. He panted and moaned.
Spike breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to move faster and harder. He pounded into the tight little ass and Andrew scrambled to meet him with his own jerky movements.
It was sort of awkward and the club was loud and smoky, Andrew was loud and whiny but...
Ah, it was good.
He came with a pleasantly warm glow, toes curling in his combat boots, and collapsed against Andrew's back with a contented sigh. The smaller body trembled against him and Andrew panted and squirmed.
He looked over Andrew's shoulder when Andrew shifted, and kept shifting, until Spike had to see what was going on.
He raised an eyebrow when he saw that Andrew hadn't found his release yet. He was still trying to keep them both upright by using his arms to brace them and couldn't touch himself.
Or he wouldn't touch himself due to the unsanitary conditions.
Spike figured he owed him a good pull, at least.
He reached around and murmured hot, dirty things into Andrew's ear, milking him until he came and fluttered around Spike's cock.
He shot against the wall and over Spike's hand.
While Andrew was recovering, Spike disposed of the condom, wiped his hand with toilet paper and left the stall to wash his hands.
Andrew tried to follow him, tugging his pants back up over his hips, but Spike made sure to move quickly and get the hell out before Andrew could catch up.
He was in a cab and on his way home before Andrew could even make it past the front doors.
Spike hated the clingy ones. They tended to think that after one fuck they owned him. When it was quite obviously the other way 'round.
Xander lived in the next building with a family that didn't care about him. Spike had seen him more than a few times sitting out on the stoop alone with bruises and that lost little boy look that made his dick grow hard in his pants.
Xander was fifteen and hungry.
Spike was hungrier.
*
When Xander came out of the apartment building early one afternoon, Spike outside after having had to do some errands, he stopped and waited until Xander looked up and saw him before he ambled over, all innocent like.
"Aren't you supposed to be in school?"
Xander snorted. "It's summer."
"Oh, right. You American lot get those summer vacations, don't you?"
"You didn't?"
"Nah, not really. In Britain it's different."
"Weird."
Spike grinned wryly, leaning against the end of the banister. "Don't get to drive till we're seventeen, though. You lot get a bit of a head-start on us. Remember that being a real bitch, the waiting. Anticipation nearly killed me."
Xander smiled reluctantly, dark eyes lighting up. "Oh. Yeah, that probably sucks."
"You have no idea. So...don't you have anyplace else to be?"
Xander's expression fell. He looked down at his worn sneakers, shrugging a mile wide, bony shoulder. "Not really."
Spike gazed at him speculatively. "Want to come over to my place? Got a couple hundred channels on the telly..."
Xander's eyes lifted hopefully but he was hesitant. "I...I don't think I should. I don't really know you..."
"We've seen each other a lot, right? I live right over there," he said, pointing at the building next door. "I've also got hot chocolate and some ice cream..."
Xander's eyes lit up and he shot up from the stoop so fast he nearly crashed into Spike.
"Umm...if you wouldn't mind?"
Spike breathed in the smell of Xander. Christ, the boy was so close.
"Wouldn't mind having some company."
Xander beamed.
*
Two months of scattered afternoons and evenings with Xander slowly pulling out of his shell and babbling like there was no tomorrow were what Spike dealt with.
Spike spent a fortune on hot chocolate and snacks for the boy. Wanted to fatten him up a bit; he also felt sorry for him, for his crap life and even crappier family.
Xander turned sixteen and immediately came over to Spike's apartment, looking sad and lost.
Sixteen was the magic number. Even Spike wouldn't fuck someone under that age.
"What's wrong, pet?" Spike asked, after he let him inside, staring at him hungrily and trying to appear not to.
Xander practically fell onto the couch. "Nobody cared it was my birthday. They didn't even notice. I should probably be used to it but...I'm not. For once, I'd like to have a bunch of presents and a party and friends and...well, normal stuff like other kids get. It's not fair."
Spike felt a pang where his heart should be and rubbed it absently as he seated himself beside Xander and wrapped an arm around him. "In the end, it doesn't really matter. You came here and told me, right?" Xander nodded. "You and me'll celebrate in style, won't we?"
Xander smiled and the world got a little brighter.
*
Spike gave Xander chocolate cake and double fudge chocolate ice cream, ordered a film on pay-per-view with lots of explosions and mindless dialogue.
Xander got hyper on sugar and bounced off the walls.
Spike would really enjoy it if Xander would bounce on his dick. Boy certainly had the energy for a few rounds of it.
And he gave Xander Jim Beam just because Xander wanted to know what it was like to get drunk.
Not that Spike wanted to dissuade him. He was a bad man who wanted in the boy's pants, wasn't he?
He didn't let Xander get falling down drunk, though, just a bit more than buzzed in order to make him pliable.
His faculties were still in order when Spike leaned over to kiss him and his glassy eyes got big.
He leaned back, mouth opening and closing rapidly in tandem with his too-wide eyes. "Wh-what are you doing, Spike? I'm a...g-guy. So are you!"
"Glad you noticed. Now, give us a kiss."
Spike trapped Xander beneath him on the couch and succeeded in kissing him this time. Xander seemed to be too shocked to stop him.
When Xander's arms timidly came around his back to hold on, Spike nearly groaned in relief. He rubbed his aching erection into Xander's hip and thrust his tongue into Xander's mouth.
When the kiss broke, Spike stared down at a very appealing, debauched face.
"You're beautiful."
Xander blushed, nibbling on his bottom lip. "Boys aren't beautiful and if they were...well, I'm really not."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Would I be here if I didn't think you were?" He rolled his pelvis. "That's not just for anyone, you know."
Xander's eyes got wide again, a very appealing trait. "Th-that's for me?"
"Very much so."
Xander was very willing to do whatever it took to keep Spike's attention after that. It seemed he craved it and didn't get it at home so he was willing to do anything to get Spike to give him what he needed.
Spike didn't have any problem with that.
He got them in his bed and naked and explored Xander's body as fully as possible before he was flipping him over and sticking his tongue up a tight, untouched ass.
Xander squeaked at the first touch of Spike's tongue to his sweet little pucker.
"What are you doing?! That's gross!"
Spike chuckled and pressed Xander's hips down. "Lie still. It'll be very good, I swear."
Xander subsided, grumbling, then began to writhe and pant and squirm under Spike's onslaught.
Spike licked and sucked and finally thrust his tongue inside and loosened him up. He fucked him with his tongue until the tiny hole spasmed and Xander froze beneath him in orgasm.
Spike arched an eyebrow and mentally patted himself on the back.
He'd never made someone cum just by rimming them before.
While Xander was replete and limp and still recovering, he lubricated his cock and thrust into him easily.
Xander only sighed and shifted when Spike pushed inside and rocked back when Spike shoved forward.
Spike's forehead fell into the indention between Xander's shoulder blades and he cupped Xander's hip bones as he moved. He watched himself through slitted lids as he fucked into Xander and then out again.
Xander shoved his face into the pillow when Spike shifted his hips and fucked right into his prostate.
And then he came once more.
Ah, to be that young again, Spike thought fondly.
He closed his eyes and enjoyed the rapid fluttering around his prick until it stopped and then began moving again.
It didn't take much longer, a dozen rapid thrusts, before he was climaxing too.
When it was over, he let Xander stay and the boy slept in his bed that night.
Thus began their secret affair. The first one Spike had had in a while that didn't involve only a single night.
Xander was worth repeating and he repeated Xander often.
Surprisingly, it was Xander who grew tired of Spike. The sex was great, sure, but Xander wanted a girlfriend he could show off to other people. Someone he could share things with in public as well as in private.
He said he was sick of being a dirty little secret.
Spike found himself a little disappointed but the newness had worn off long ago and he'd been debating stopping the thing with Xander so he could find someone new, anyway.
He'd gotten complacent and too comfortable. Things he wasn't comfortable with.
And that's when he met Angel.
Angel was a hulking, brooding, big git of a bastard and Spike clashed with him immediately.
They both went after the same girl and both lost because she happened to be a lesbian and uninterested in either one of them.
Both were disgruntled and annoyed and aroused without relief and ended up at the same table sharing a pitcher of beer because it seemed like the thing to do at the time.
Spike got a little drunker than he should have but Angel looked like a level-headed guy he could trust to get him somewhere safe for the night.
He ended up back at Angel's place, Angel's big hand in the small of his back and on one arm to guide him and keep him from falling on his face.
He was stripped and tipped into a large bed where Angel joined him but nothing happened.
Spike discovered the next morning, while suffering through a hell of a hangover, that Angel wasn't gay and had no interest in him.
Or that's what it had to be since Angel didn't seem to be paying any sort of undue attention to him.
That...was almost the most appallingly horrible thing imaginable to Spike.
Everyone he wanted was interested in him, dammit! And quite a few that he couldn't care less about! Why did the rules have to go and change on him now?
Though, after he thought about it for a while, he discovered that a challenge was just what he needed.
He'd grown lazy these last couple of years, getting whoever he set his sights on. Everyone said yes and spread their legs without fail and with little coaxing.
Turning a straight man gay? Now, that was something he could be proud of.
Spike was going to turn Angel gay, fuck him, and set a new standard for himself.
He pretty well sucked at plans but what he did come up with was simple and just might work.
He was just going to be his charming self.
And also walk around nearly naked a lot, just out of showers and such, after inviting Angel over.
No one could resist his nude body and neither would Angel.
*
They became friends but it took a while. They seemed to...grate on each other's nerves and rub each other the wrong way.
Spike preferred being rubbed the right way.
Angel thought he knew everything and proceeded to tell Spike he was a dumbass and that his opinion was always right.
When he wasn't being a right ass, Spike kind of liked him, though.
His prettiness made up for the attitude problem.
*
They 'dated' for a few weeks, Spike showing up at Angel's place with a case of good beer, chips and a dvd because he'd thought of his 'good buddy' and wanted a 'guys night out'.
Then he got Angel to come to his flat because working in familiar territory might help him in this particular situation.
Also, he didn't want Angel wondering why Spike showed up at his place all the time and didn't invite him to his own.
Spike purposely did some jogging and called Angel on his mobile just before he got home and invited him over. By the time he reached his apartment and hopped into the shower, Angel was probably halfway up to his floor.
The knock on the door just as he was exiting the shower was the best thing he'd heard all day.
He answered the door holding his towel in place with one hand, still dripping wet and panting from his excitement and both the jogging and sprint from the bathroom to the front door.
"Sorry, was a bit late with my run. Thought I'd be done before you got here. Come on in, Angel."
Angel gaped, eyes running helplessly up and down Spike's wet, nearly naked body and slowly entered the apartment.
Spike grinned wickedly behind him, then quickly sobered and smacked the door shut with his free hand. He stepped around the looming ox and waved a hand. "Help yourself to a drink or something to eat, you know where the kitchen is. Going to go get dressed."
Angel didn't say anything but Spike could feel his intent gaze on his naked skin all the way to the bedroom. When he came out, though, Angel was in front of the tv, sitting comfortably on the couch, drinking a beer and looking as if nothing had happened.
And, no, when Spike checked subtly as he sat down beside him, Angel wasn't even hard.
Well.
Time to up the ante, then.
Spike showed up at Angel's flat, knowing he'd eventually turn up when Angel himself was fresh out of the shower.
He'd already shown up at almost every other hour so there couldn't be many more times that he'd miss catching him out of the shower, could there?
He couldn't wait to see Angel's body wet and free of clothes. Just thinking about the possibility made him harder than he could handle.
He jerked off in his car in the parking lot -- rough, fast strokes that had him panting, tingling and slamming his head into the window when he came almost abruptly -- because he couldn't go up there with a hard-on and there was no way the bastard was going down without some help.
He cleaned himself up, shook out of the lethargy that always came after an orgasm and went up to Angel's; he knocked on the door sharply, vibrating with tension. Sure enough, he'd finally timed it just right.
Angel answered, puffing air in and out like he'd run to the door, wearing a short robe barely big enough to cover him; it clung to bits of his body because of the wetness. Water dripped in rivulets from his hair.
Angel frowned. "Spike? What are you doing here?"
Spike hoped he hadn't interrupted something. Then again, he hoped he had.
If anyone was going to have Angel, it was going to be him.
Spike looked around Angel's impressively wide shoulders. "Not interrupting anything, am I?"
"Oh, no." Angel stood aside and allowed Spike to enter. "Just got through with some weight lifting."
"Mmmm," Spike moaned before he could stop himself because the image of Angel working himself to a sweat, muscles bulging, grunting with effort...
Well, it did some very good things to some very important parts of him. Good thing he'd jerked off before he came up.
Angel raised an eyebrow.
Spike shrugged, feeling faintly embarrassed for no good reason. "Oh, uh, sounds interesting. I like to run and do Jujitsu myself."
Angel's interest perked. "Really? That's interesting. I do a little sword training and Kata exercises to clear my mind and keep limber when I get the chance. Along with the weight training, that is."
Spike watched a water droplet run down the center of Angel's chest.
Angel's head lowered as he followed Spike's gaze. He flushed. "Oh. I guess I should get dressed."
He turned quickly to go and Spike mumbled, "Not on my account, you don't. But you will because you're so bloody oblivious and hetero it's not funny."
Angel paused and turned his head. "What?"
Spike, flustered, shoved his hands into his pockets. "Nothing. You go dress and I'll entertain myself till you return."
*
And another five weeks went by like that. Spike was frustrated beyond all reason and wanked five to seven times a day. His dick was starting to feel sore and raw.
He never thought that could happen out of excessive use! He never failed to use lube but apparently that wasn't enough.
He'd never actually wanked this much, though, since he was in primary school.
He let his cock heal for a week, and that nearly killed him, and by that time he was ready for Plan B, which he'd only recently come up with.
He was going to get Angel drunk and seduce him because how could that not work, right?
So, a dateless Angel and Spike went out for drinks at the club they met at initially and ended up hoofing it to another bar a couple of blocks over when the other turned out to be a big dud.
It was nice, as bars went, and Angel was actually putting drinks back fairly decently but he didn't look drunk.
If Spike had had a roofie he'd have slipped Angel a mickey. Because all this waiting was ridiculous.
He'd never felt so impatient for a fuck before.
He'd never been so intent on having one from someone before.
He didn't think he'd even waited this long before for someone to give in to him.
Spike merely sipped at his one beer and kept ordering Angel whisky.
Angel finally got good and loopy and started hanging all over Spike and that was when Spike knew it was probably time to get him home and shag him stupid; before he lost consciousness or began puking all over the place, of course.
He propped Angel up and then shoved him into the car and drove them back to his place. The elevator ride was an experience -- having to hold a man Angel's size upright while Angel played with his hair with a huge paw of a hand, giggled and tried to tickle him and licked his neck and ear was a big pain in the ass -- but he finally got them up to his flat without too much trouble.
Angel clung to him, blowing against his neck and rubbing against his side, and Spike couldn't get them to his bedroom fast enough.
He stripped first because he knew Angel was going to be more difficult and probably take three times as long. When he got to Angel, Angel was staring at him in awe, mouth open, crossing and uncrossing eyes glued to his hard cock.
"Like what you see, Angel?" Spike asked, stroking himself.
Angel licked his lips, nodding exaggeratedly. "You're pretty, Spike."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Let's see about getting your kit off."
Angel flopped about uselessly, like one of those rag dolls kids liked to carry around, giggling as Spike's frustration grew and started to show.
Finally, he got the other man undressed, though, and shoved him further onto the bed with a lot of effort and crawled in beside him.
Angel blinked at him, smiled, lifted a hand and caressed the side of his face and, just as Spike was leaning down to kiss him, he passed out.
Spike growled out his frustration and slammed his fist into the mattress. Angel jiggled bonelessly with the movement, snorted a bit, and Spike flopped over onto his side, away from Angel, wanking quickly because it wasn't about the pleasure this time, it was about the release.
Who the hell got that drunk and just...passed out before they got to have sex? He cursed Angel's stupidity and went to sleep because that was all he could do at the moment.
He might have liked to manipulate people and use them for sex but he didn't fuck unconscious bodies.
Pity, that. Would've been a hell of a lot easier on so many levels if he was having a particularly difficult time getting his target into the sack. Which he was.
He was beginning to dislike Angel.
Not that it was going to stop him from fucking Angel.
*
Spike woke up with a hard cock between his thighs, gliding along his sensitive perineum, nudging up against his balls. A heavy arm embraced him while hot breath blew across his nape.
He sighed. And hardened. Waited. Impatiently.
Angel woke up slowly, stretching and unconsciously thrusting his erection between Spike's thighs because it probably felt damn nice.
Felt damn nice on Spike's end, too.
And then Angel woke up completely and shoved himself away until he was all the way on the other side of the bed.
Spike turned over and raised an eyebrow.
Angel was wide-eyed and wincing with his hangover. "What--? Did we--? Umm...I don't remember last night."
"You don't say," Spike said slowly, turning completely over and artfully arranging the sheet over his lower body. Not that it hid his erection; he was creating a three ring circus tent, here.
Angel swallowed. "Um. No. Did, umm, something happen? Because I'd like to remember if something happened and...I don't remember so nothing could have, right?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "Nothing happened, you twat. You passed out in my bed and I left you there because you're too big a pillock for me to move."
"Oh," Angel said. "So. We didn't have any sex last night that I don't remember?"
"Uh, that would be no."
"Good. If something like that happened...well, I'd want to remember because it'd be a first, you know?"
Spike perked right up and so did other things. He slid a little closer. "Really?"
Angel's gaze flickered down to Spike's mouth. "Umm. Yes."
"Tell me, Angel, are you attracted to me?"
"Little bit," Angel said, fidgeting.
"Why didn't you say something?" Spike practically yelled.
Angel blinked and winced at Spike's screeching. "Because I didn't know if you were interested and...it'd be really weird if you weren't and I didn't want to lose your friendship. This is a new thing and...well, I'd rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. If it came down to it, I mean."
Spike breathed slowly. "Makes sense, I suppose. So. Now that we've shared all these feelings and thoughts...how about a shag?"
Angel's mouth opened and closed.
"Is that a yes?"
Angel looked at him, eyes smoldering. "Yes."
Spike kissed him and eased Angel onto his back, crawling onto him and pressing their naked flesh together. They groaned in unison as Spike began to thrust.
"Are you sure we didn't do anything? We're kind of naked..." Angel gasped, as Spike freed his mouth to suck a wet trail down his throat.
Spike chuckled. "Was going to shag you stupid last night because you were coming on to me but then you passed out just before we could do anything. Couldn't even kiss you."
"That must've been frustrating," Angel groaned, cupping Spike's ass in his hands and kneading the flesh.
"You have no idea," Spike murmured as he slowly drifted down Angel's body and took his cock in his mouth.
Angel cried out and shoved his hands into Spike's hair, dragging him down further onto him.
Spike choked a little, unprepared for the sudden movement, and pulled the hands from his hair to pin them to the bed while he worked how he wanted.
"Let me do it."
"Just get on with it!"
Spike rolled his eyes and sat up. "Bossy git, aren't you? Going to top from the bottom?"
"Bottom?" Angel blinked an eye open and when he met Spike's slightly serious face, the other opened. "What?"
"I'm going to fuck you."
"Uh..." Angel's eyes got appealingly big. "I don't--"
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing." Spike crawled up Angel's body and shoved his tongue down Angel's throat. When the brunet was fully engaged and gasping and clawing at him for more, he pulled away. "I'll be gentle. It'll be the best you ever had."
Angel merely blinked at him.
Spike smiled.
He'd have liked to fuck Angel face to face just to see the expression on his face when he fucked him into submission and orgasm but the logistics wouldn't work for that. So he pushed him onto his side, levered one leg up and slid a slick finger up Angel's tight ass. He could still see his face from that position, so it was almost as good as the other.
His heart beat faster and his breathing grew laboured as his excitement level rose dramatically. He couldn't wait to be inside Angel.
After all he'd been through and the weeks upon weeks of wanking to get to this moment, he was going to take his time and fuck Angel until the other man was screaming and begging him for more.
He always liked to hear them beg.
When he thrust into Angel the other man moaned and tensed and jerked against him. He tried to fuck back into Spike but Spike grabbed his hip and didn't allow him.
He was controlling this coupling; he'd do what he wanted.
Angel was going to submit to him and his needs, not the other way around.
He waited until Angel was squirming delightfully against him, panting and sweating and cursing him, before he finally began to move.
It was slow, almost too slow, but he managed to keep the rhythm and speed the same for a long time.
Angel sobbed into a pillow and undulated his hips back into Spike's thrusting as best he could.
"You're a fucking tease," he snarled, jaws clenched tight.
Spike suckled an earlobe into his mouth and slammed into him hard for a few thrusts before returning to his previously languid pace.
Angel laughed breathlessly. "But I think I like it."
Spike had to change the rhythm more quickly than he anticipated. He found himself desperate and so near release he had to move faster or he thought he'd die.
He pounded into Angel, wringing gasped cries of pleasure from them both and buried his face into the warm, moist flesh of Angel's shoulder when he came.
Angel breathed unevenly, whimpering. "Aren't you going to get me off?"
Spike licked sweat from Angel's neck, staring down the line of his body over one broad shoulder. Angel's cock jutted out from his body, proud and flushed deep red, leaking precum copiously from the tip. He licked his lips and rolled his hips, despite his shrinking arousal.
Angel moaned. "Well?"
"I think I'd like to see you do it. Got those nice big hands and all, probably know just what do to with 'em, too, don't you? Want to see you jerk yourself until you cum. Do it."
Angel shuddered against and around him and Spike watched with barely blinking eyes as Angel finally took himself in hand and began stroking in a manner that looked painful but Spike knew to be very satisfying when you had to cum hard and wanted to do it now.
"That's it, pet. Fuck yourself real good for me."
Spike watched as the fist blurred and Angel moaned and bucked against him. A few seconds later a stream of spunk arced upwards and splattered the bed.
Spike shuddered as Angel continued milking himself until he was replete and then found himself relaxing and falling asleep, still inside the other man. He felt Angel relax back into him.
*
He woke up when Angel sank down on him and watched with hot eyes as Angel rode him, thighs bulging, cock painting a trail on his stomach. He could feel the warm precum dribble onto his skin.
He held onto Angel's hips and swiveled his pelvis up into Angel.
Angel flung back his head and arched his back as he continued to fuck himself on Spike. He grasped Spike's calves for leverage and twisted and rocked on top of him.
Everything went white when Spike came and he barely noticed when Angel's own orgasm splattered onto his stomach.
*
Spike arrived at consciousness when the bed moved and his partner left it.
He turned toward the movement and opened an eye. It was still dark out. He frowned.
"What're you doing?"
"Gotta get up for work early in the morning."
"You can't wait a couple of hours?"
"I don't stay the night with my one-fucks. It sort of defeats the purpose of it being just a fuck, don't you think?"
Spike woke fully abruptly, sitting up slightly. He felt as if he'd just been slapped. "What are you talking about?"
"You were right about one thing, though," Angel continued as if Spike had never spoken. "You're pretty much the best fuck I've ever had. Must be all that practice you've had."
"What the fuck are you on about?"
"Oh, did I not tell you? I'm no virgin."
Spike's mouth dropped open. "You..." He took a deep breath. "You lied?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"Why?"
"Well, it started because you screwed over my cousin. You know, revenge and all. But then I figured if you'd fucked that many people you've got to be very good. So...I got more out of it than I originally planned for but...fucking great for me, right?"
Spike grew hot and cold at the same time. "I still don't--"
Angel finished dressing and looked at him patronizingly as he settled on the side of the bed. "You're not getting it, William. She was in love with you and you used her. She cried for months afterward and still won't even look at another guy because of you. I listened day in and day out about how beautiful you were and how perfect you'd been but it had only been one night and she couldn't get in touch with you because you hadn't ever even given her your damn phone number! She didn't even get your full name! She thought there was something wrong with her, that she'd been bad! You charmed her, got into her pants, and then dropped her like something rotten because you'd gotten what you wanted. Another friend of mine happens to be one of your other conquests and I put two and two together and arrived at you and your fetish. Took me only a little while to track you down; you've got quite a long list of left-overs, don't you? You like to get there before anyone else, don't you? That's why you picked them?"
Spike swallowed, feeling sick inside. "I don't know what you're talking about. How did you--?"
"I know you want to deny it but it won't make it any less true. And you want to know how I knew how to find you, don't you? I have my sources. Anyway..." Angel's expression turned sinister, a wicked grin on an angel's face. Spike would've thought he was beautiful if he wasn't so...annoyed with the git at the moment.
Who was Spike kidding? Even through all of this he still thought Angel was fucking beautiful. Maybe because of this he thought it, especially poignant.
Attraction wasn't about liking someone, anyway; it was how well you thought you'd fuck together.
Angel quite obviously knew that well.
Angel smirked, stood and started for the bedroom door, "Thanks for the hot screwing, William. It's been a blast but I've got to go."
Spike took a breath. "Who were they?"
"Tara McClay and Wesley Wyndham-Price."
Spike winced and said nothing as Angel whistled on his way out. The door clicked with a finality Spike didn't want and he fell back against the bed, suddenly drained.
Well. What an unexpected turn of events this had turned out to be.
No wonder he never connected with anyone, made it a point not to. It was bloody horrible getting hurt when they turned on you.
So this was what it felt like to be tricked. He'd wondered deep down how all of his...well, victims, he should probably say now that he was one himself and knew the feeling...well, he wondered how they'd felt afterward.
It wasn't such a great feeling.
Jesus, but Angel had been a brilliant actor. He hadn't suspected a thing the whole time.
Angel must've been royally pissed about what Spike had done because Angel had been acting for months without a crack in his facade.
God, Spike was such a clueless git. Being so focused on the one thing that can cause a man to screw himself over or get screwed over pretty well sucked.
He might have to review and revise his ways a bit.
Then he thought about it and decided that was ridiculous. He'd been fucked, quite literally, but that was no reason to give up his quest to deflower everyone he could get his hands on because he felt it was his duty to give everyone the perfect first time.
His pleasure was a mere bonus for helping the world with its raging libido. He was a...giver.
Who was he to deny the world his talents? He was damn good at what he could do between and out of the sheets and he was going to continue doing it.
He'd just be a bit more careful next time.
No one could say Spike didn't learn from his mistakes.
He'd be back on his feet in no time, better than ever.
He could admit one thing, though. Angel hadn't been a bad fuck, as well...versed as he obviously was.
Didn't mean Spike was going against his routine, mind, but it did mean he wouldn't turn down more experienced partners when he came across them, if he was in the mood. Just meant he'd get even more sex.
As he lay there, his mind raced.
Maybe he'd set up shop in another town, another state, hell, across the ocean, and give more people the chance of sampling his multitude of talents.
Yeah, that sounded about right.
LA was pretty used up to him, now, anyway.
He wondered where his passport was.
---Here endeth the story
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