RATING: NC-17 for explicit m/f sexual congress
DISCLAIMER: All BtVS and AtS characters, concepts, etc. are copyright FOX, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, and Kuzui Entertainment. This work is not-for-profit fanfiction, and no infringement is intended.
SYNOPSIS: My B/A Fluffython entry, written for Stars.
Requests: 1.) A bed of roses 2.) Seashells.... I want some creativity here! Restrictions: I think no angst is pretty much a given, but just to be explicit... NO ANGST!
DEDICATION/BLAME: My crumpet. She knows why.
APOLOGIES: To Stars, for the lateness of this story.
THANKS: To Hans Christian Andersen and Disney, for the rip-off.
NOTE: It has been a very, very long time since I've done this, so *please* excuse the awkwardness. Feedback is always welcomed.
The ocean was fairly calm, for a Thursday.
The sun beat down on her bare skin, the rays ghosting over her like a lover's touch. Buffy arched against the rock she was draped over, her arms reaching over her head, stretching tired muscles. The sea breeze wafted over her, her long blonde hair stirring in the summer wind.
The water surrounding her was undisturbed until Xander launched himself from it, his red body fairly quivering with excitement, his claws clacking together as he scrabbled for a grip on her perch.
She squeaked and grabbed her top, a string bikini made with pretty white seashells, modestly clutching it to her chest. "Xander!"
"Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to tell you there was a shipwreck!" His eyestalks twitched back and forth. "It was carrying all kinds of neat stuff."
Buffy gasped. "Are the sailors okay? Did they make it?"
"They all survived," a tiny voice said from the side of the rock. Buffy looked down and saw Willow, her yellow and blue striped body clearly visible through the water.
"There's so much stuff!" Xander said, "Boxes and boxes of fruit and vegetables and cakes and everything!"
"Must you always think with your stomach, Xander?" Buffy frowned. "Do you even have a stomach?"
"He has a stomach!" Willow said indignantly. "It's above his heart, and his gills and his t-t-testes."
"TMI!" Buffy shrieked, waving her hands in the air.
Just then, they heard a voice from above yelling "Hellooooooooo!" loudly. All three looked up to see Giles flying towards them, his grey and white wings flapping wildly.
Giles landed somewhat less than gracefully on the rock, wobbling slightly with the impact. "Those sailors certainly are a drunk lot," he informed them. "They're so inebriated they can barely row. Your father has ordered that they be 'assisted' in leaving the area."
"He's not going to drown them, is he?" Buffy asked nervously. "I mean, they didn't *mean* to sink their ship directly over my father's living room."
"No, he's having them transported to the nearest patch of inhabited land. I wonder what caused the ship to sink? I examined as much of the wreckage as I could see..."
Giles droned on, but Buffy mentally tuned out. He was a sweetheart, but he just didn't understand that no one really cared about his extravagant theories.
Soft suction on her toes caused her attention to shift to her feet.
She didn't have feet, she had a tail, the prettiest tail in the entire ocean if her suitors were to be believed. She looked down. Her tail was its normal size, scales glistening in the sun. "Hey guys," she said, "Does my tail look okay to you?"
There was no answer.
She looked around, but Xander, Willow, and Giles were gone. She leaned over the side of the rock. The water was once again still, with no sign of her friends beneath it.
Suddenly, her body slid from the rock and started to sink, spiraling down, down, down, down...
Buffy jerked up with a gasp, her eyes snapping open.
She was in her bedroom, in her own bed, with her own sheets, the rose printed ones with the obnoxiously high thread count. And at the end of the bed, where most people kept an extra blanket, there was an extremely attractive naked man.
Her naked man.
"Bad dream?" he asked, his focus leaving her toes and working its way up her feet to her ankles.
"No, not a bad dream, just a -- ahhhhhh," she sucked in a breath as his tongue traced the delicate shape of her ankle. How could her ankle be an erogenous zone? Was that even possible?
"Want to tell me about it?" He began kissing her calves, slowly covering each square inch of skin.
She quickly came to the conclusion that any part of her body became an erogenous zone, so long as Angel was touching it. Yawning, still not completely awake, she said, "Did you ever see The Little Mermaid?"
"Did I ever read "The Little Mermaid" by Hans Christian Andersen? Yes, I have."
"No, no, the movie. The Disney movie."
He darted his tongue into the warm crevice behind her left knee. She gasped and jerked her leg, trying to escape from his grip. He had no intention of letting her go anywhere, and he held on. "They made a cartoon out of that? Do they know she dies in the end?"
"They Disney-fied it. Complete with talking fish and happily ever after."
"And they wonder why your generation can barely read," he muttered, licking his way up the inside of her thigh.
"Not you, of course," he clarified.
"I'll have you know that I read that story when I was a -- ohmygod, Angel, that's...that's...oh, wow..."
His journey up her legs had finally ended. His big hands gripped her hips, keeping her in exactly the right position for him to devour. His tongue circled her clit slowly at first, bringing the tiny pearl of flesh to hardness, then more quickly as she began to respond. The scent of her desire filled the air, surrounding him, and he reacted, tongue dipping down into its source.
Buffy whimpered, straining towards him for a firmer touch.
"Patience, love. Patience."
"Not known for my patience!" she grouched, bracing her hands against the wall, using it for leverage to press down against him as she planted her feet more firmly on the mattress. He wanted to go slowly, but she would go insane if he did. "Angel, please...use your fingers, please, I..."
He could hear the need in her voice and so he took pity on her, circling her wet entrance with his forefinger, playing in the moisture her body so readily produced for him. She arched her hips further and his finger slipped in to the first knuckle, eliciting a low groan from the back of her throat.
Angel liked that sound, so he allowed the rest of that finger to glide into her, testing her depths. Her muscles clenched greedily around him, trying to draw him further in.
"Ohhh...," she sighed. The pressure against her swollen flesh was almost exactly what she craved, and she wanted more. "More...more, please..."
He added another finger, and when her body began to tremble, a third. She was drenching his hand, and so he began to move his fingers inside of her, drawing back and then thrusting forward smoothly in a rhythm guaranteed to make her insane.
Her body was well-primed, and when her legs began to shudder around him, he fastened his lips around her clit and bit down with the gentlest pressure imaginable.
Buffy screamed his name as her senses overloaded, the orgasm crashing through her, all her muscles tensing and releasing simultaneously. He kept his grip on her hips, and continued to nuzzle her, licking her with feather-soft movements of his tongue until she was too sensitive and squirmed away.
She flopped back on the bed, her right arm thrown carelessly over her face, covering her eyes.
"Baby? Are you okay?"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm fine," she said thickly. "Just give me a minute to get myself together."
He kissed the inside of her thigh tenderly. "Do you mind if I start without you?" His weight shifted on the bed and she moved her arm away from her eyes so she could see him.
He was kneeling in front of her, his right hand idly pumping the base of his cock as he stared at her, lust in his eyes.
Buffy swallowed hard.
She parted her thighs and he took immediate advantage, catching her knees with his forearms and bending her nearly in half as he loomed over her.
He paused for a moment to kiss her lips, evading her tongue which greedily reached out for his. "What were you saying about 'The Little Mermaid'?" he murmured, his mouth moving against hers.
She blinked at him. "I was talking?"
Angel snickered even as he shifted to enter her. "No, baby, you weren't talking."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
He responded with a liquid thrust inside her. She whimpered as he entered her, stretched her to fit around him. As he stroked into her, she got even wetter, her body devouring him. His movements started out slow and even, but after a few moments, his control slipped and he started moving harder, faster.
She was whimpering and squirming under him, egging him on with urgent hands and hot eyes. "Growl for me," she urged.
"What? Why?" he grunted, arching harder into her.
Her smile was wicked, and did things to his insides that should have been illegal. "Don't you know? It makes me wet."
"Jesus Christ, Buffy," he stammered, losing his rhythm for several seconds. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"Not a chance, babe."
He bit his lip as her head fell back, baring her throat. It wasn't fair; she knew that made him crazy. "Buffy..." he growled warningly.
"Oooooh, yeah...just like that," she breathed, arching her pelvis against him. "Just...like...tha--oh oh oh AngelangelangelANGEL!!!"
Her second orgasm was stronger than the first, and her internal muscles clamped down on him so tightly that it was nearly painful. He tried to slow down, tried to enjoy her climax, but he was too far gone. She convulsed around him again and he gave in, leaning down and biting into her exposed throat. The taste of her blood in his mouth sent him over the edge, and with a few frantic thrusts, he came violently, shuddering against her.
The next thing he knew, Buffy was laughing hysterically underneath him. "What?" he groaned, shifting so that he was no longer squashing her into the mattress.
"In my dream? I was a mermaid."
He snorted. "A mermaid?"
"Yeah, and Xander was--"
"--Do me a favor? Never, ever mention Xander in bed again."
She turned her head to face him. "But you'll like this one. He was a...wait for it...crab!"
"So it is true, what they say about life imitating art." Then something occurred to him. "Did you have one of those seashell bras on?"
"You did, didn't you."
"I'm not telling."
"Which means you did."
She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Don't stick that thing out at me unless you plan to use it." His fingers began to trace a path up her stomach.
Suddenly, Angel found himself flat on his back with the Slayer astride him. "Who says I wasn't?"
As she began to slide down his legs, he blurted, "Wait!!!"
"Can we find one of those bras first?"
Stars, I apologize for the wait and hope it was worth it. :->