Previously in "Sum": A freak accident has split Buffy into two not-so-equal pieces. The Scoobies are trying to find a way to fix things, but Slayer seems to be coming apart at the seams. Intimate contact with Buffy seems to be the answer. And Buffy wants to make her feel better . . .
Chapter 12 Guidance
He sat still, willing his arousal away. She didn’t need
this from him, not right now. He just wanted to stay small and inconspicuous
until they were safe.
“Spike?” Buffy’s soft voice came from the bed.
“Right here, pet.” He fought to keep the tension out of his voice.
“Can . . . would you come here?” she asked hesitantly.
He did not groan aloud as he slowly got to his feet. The two were spooned on the
bed, Slayer in front, Buffy’s arm wrapped around her waist, the dress now in a
pile at the foot of the bed.
He sat softly next to Buffy. “What you need?”
“I . . . can you . . .” she blushed, closing her eyes. “I want . . . to do for
her, but I don’t know how. Can you . . .”
His heart seized at what she was asking. “You can manage, luv. ‘S just like
getting yourself off. Just do what feels good for you.” Don’t make me do this,
please.
“But she’s so . . . primal. I don’t. . . Please, help me.”
Damned if he could deny her anything. He quietly kicked off his boots and slid
into bed to spoon up against her bare backside. “I’ll guide you, love, but you
have to do the work yourself, yeah?” he breathed quietly in her ear.
She nodded quickly, her eyes huge, her body trembling slightly, but whether from
fear or arousal he wasn’t sure.
He continued softly. “How do you like to start, then?” She thought for a moment,
then gently pressed a kiss to the nape of Slayer’s neck just below her braid.
“That’s it. Just feel that out.” He watched as she tentatively began to place
delicate kisses along the neck and shoulder bared by Slayer’s tank top. As she
gained confidence, he suggested, “Do you think she wants it that gentle?”
She hesitated, then almost tenderly bit down into Slayer’s tight shoulder
muscle.
Slayer gasped and arched back into them.
“Surprise her with those,” Spike instructed. “Keep her guessing. What is your
hand doing?”
“Nothing,” she answered against warm skin.
“Best change that.” He reached around and lay his hand over hers, guiding her in
making small light circles over Slayer’s hard belly. Slayer sighed softly at the
touch until Buffy nipped her again, making her jump.
Spike chuckled against her bare shoulder. “Good girl.” Slowly he led her hand
downward, dipping below the waistband of Slayer’s sweats. “What are we going to
do about these?”
Both Buffy’s and Slayer’s free hand pushed eagerly at the fabric, amusing him no
end. “Lift your hips, luv,” he said a bit louder so Slayer could hear him. She
obeyed, and three hands pushed the fabric down onto her legs.
“What do you want to do now?” he murmured in Buffy’s ear.
Her hand under his wavered, unsure of where to go.
“Try this.” He guided her lightly over the tops of Slayer’s thigh, lifting her
wrist so only her fingertips dragged faintly over the sensitive skin. At
Slayer’s soft intake of breath, he led softly down to scribe delicate circles
along the inside of her leg. Slayer whimpered at the light contact and jerked
away, only to return instantly for more. “You always loved this, remember?”
Buffy’s eyes fluttered shut as she nodded almost imperceptibly. He moved closer
to her ear, his pitch dropping. “Only you liked it better when it was my mouth .
. .”
She cried out faintly at the memory, her hips arching in a wave against the
bodies penning her in.
He was losing his distance quickly. He wanted her, wanted them. He had known he
couldn’t be this close to them like this and not want what he could never
deserve. This was too much, too intimate, more even than what he had shared
alone with either of them. He needed to go, to get out of this bed and away from
them . . .
“What do I do now?” Buffy asked innocently.
He was lost.
“Here, pet, let me show you.” He closed her hand with his own, leaving only her
two dominant fingers outstretched, his index finger making a third, guiding the
movement of the other two. Together they caressed over Slayer’s mound and down,
knuckles gathering up drops of moisture as their fingers delicately opened up
her labia. She moaned eagerly, curling her top leg up and over Buffy’s hip to be
trapped against the curve of Buffy’s ass by Spike’s pelvis, her foot running
parallel to his hard on. He couldn’t resist grinding against foot and ass, and
all three groaned at the sensation.
He led their fingers in eager circles over her spread cunt, smearing her juices
over every inch of exposed flesh.
They quickly stroked up and down along the slit as though scratching an itch,
making her cry out desperately. “She’s ready,” he purred in Buffy’s ear. “Are
you?”
“God, yes!” she moaned, and he knew there were layers of meaning in it that he
would explore later.
“This way.” And he led their fingers up to her swollen clit. She whimpered like
a lost child, but Buffy rained soft kisses on her neck and shoulders as Spike
led them through their dance. “Small circles, pet,” he instructed in a whisper,
“on and off until she’s closer. Drop down to keep your fingers wet and come
back.” He demonstrated, making Slayer writhe against them with a barely audible
“Yes!”
As Buffy gained confidence, he let his hand drift away to slide up Slayer’s taut
belly, under the hem of her shirt to cup one compact breast. As he rolled and
kneaded it, he flexed his arm to inch the fabric up over her ribs. Finally
realizing what he was doing through the haze of her arousal, Slayer reached down
and grabbed the fabric, pulling it up over her head to drop it on the floor,
kicking her loose leg free of her pants at the same time. He murmured approval
at the nude form draped ecstatically over them, decadent sexuality written on
every inch of her. He pinched her nipple hard, wishing he could replace his
fingers with his mouth. Her hips began trembling against them, her mouth open
but only desperate gasps coming out.
“Almost there, luv,” he hummed in Buffy’s ear, dropping kisses along her neck.
“Why don’t you slide in and see how she feels?”
Buffy bucked at the suggestion, but leaned down to slide into her twin’s sopping
channel. Slayer’s hips began stroking eagerly, sliding up and down along the
single finger buried deep within her.
“She’s so tight!” Buffy said in wonder, moving to increase her penetration.
“God, I remember,” he groaned, grinding harder against her. “Fucking heaven.
Give her another.” She moved slightly as he continued fondling Slayer’s breasts.
Slayer’s reaction was instantaneous, the strokes of her hips becoming hard
thrusts.
“I can’t hold her!” Buffy sounded panicked.
“Don’t try,” he instructed, moving his hand down to Slayer’s pelvis to slow her
movements. “Just lock your arm and let her do the work. Curve your fingers up
into the fleshy part. Feel around for a place that feels a little different.”
They both knew the instant she found it. Slayer’s head snapped back, eyes and
mouth wide and her back bowed for an instant before her hips jack hammered
against the bed.
Buffy laughed joyously at the response she had been able to create, kissing
Slayer’s neck and turning back over her own shoulder to kiss Spike generously.
She let her fingers be squeezed out, dipping back in to gather fingerfuls of
come to paint over the Slayer’s cunt soothingly as she came down.
Finally Slayer slipped her foot from between them, bringing her legs together
with a groan of pained pleasure. She turned to face them, kissing Buffy tiredly
before leaning up to do the same to Spike. Then she collapsed on the pillow with
an uncharacteristic giggle.
Spike smiled. He was hard and horny, but somehow felt very content.
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