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I
didn’t want this to be here. To be now. But these things sometimes find
their own allotted time. Spike needs answers now, comfort now. Not tomorrow,
in the rational light of day. I grasp his face between both my hands bringing
his eyes into focus. Focus on me. I feel him start to recoil in horror...fear...embarrassment?
I didn’t know, don’t care. I only care that he is here and that this is
the start of his road to a new place, a better place. A place where I
already am. This is his road to me.
What do I do though? I am his Sire. I was his teacher, his mentor. But
I have no reference points for this. How do I help him with this epiphany?
How do I make him mine again? But once more the decision is taken from
me. In his pain and fear he reacts instinctively. He retreats to his demon
form and savagely attacks, sinking his fangs into my neck. I’m far stronger
than him and I am his Sire, but I allow this transgression. It’s what
he desperately needs. What I need, too. The most intimate of all connections.
I feel my blood flowing freely and powerfully down into his aching body.
I wrap my hands around the back of his neck making soothing sweeps of
my thumbs into his hairline. My calmness and loving gestures take effect
because he slows his feeding gradually until he is lapping and licking
at the wound he has made. I continue to stroke his neck and before I realise
what I’m doing, I kiss his hair, nuzzling into the soft, blond strands.
He looks up and his blue eyes are full of confusion and their intensity
is enhanced by the tears I see gathering, ready to flow.
‘Get it out, Angel! Get it out! Please!’
For a moment I am confused, but when he starts to slap the side of his
head, I realise what he means.
‘Stop it, Spike!’ I catch his hands in mine. ‘Don’t! Please!’ At my anguished
plea, his tears flow unchecked.
‘I can’t stand this any longer, Angel. I’m dying inside. Every time. Every
death. I can’t stand this much pain. Why? I don’t have a fucking soul.
It’s just a chip to stop me feeding. I don’t want to be like you. I don’t
want the weight of the sodding world on me. Weighing me down. Take it
out. Please!’
He starts to sob, uncontrollably. Six months of adjustment destroyed by
a body stripped of skin and a mouth filled with superglue to prevent the
screaming. Too much horror. Too much helplessness. I’ve had eighty years
to adjust and still it terrifies me.
There’s nothing else to be done, but what I do now. Although making love
to Spike had no part in my plan for his redemption, it’s found it’s own
subtle way into this new relationship. I take him gently in my arms and
start to kiss and lick his tears away. He doesn’t pull away and I continue
the movements of my tongue and lips down his face and neck, swirling them
over his Adam’s apple into the seductive hollows of his throat. I push
the blankets away and find his cock with my eager hands. Pumping gently,
I lick one hard, rough lick across the tip, causing frissons of sensation
from the cold texture of my tongue. He shivers and with a hiss of anticipation
tries to push my head down into his lap, tries to thrust his cock into
my eager mouth. But I want something first. I raise my head and noting,
with a slight grin, his look of disappointment, I capture his face in
my hands once more. Making sure I have his full attention, I hold his
gaze with mine and say with as much truth and clarity as I can, ‘Welcome
home, Spike.’
And with that, I plunge down to swallow his engorged length till I can
feel it strike the back of my throat. With urgent hands I slide in under
his buttocks to lift him harder to me. He joins in by pressing me hard
down onto him and under these desperate ministrations he doesn’t last
long. As he starts to explode his cum into my throat, I pull away and
guide his copious seed onto my smooth, cold chest. His initial look of
frustration is quelled when he sees the look in my eyes as I rub my hands
around in the viscous liquid. I raise one eyebrow in a gesture of supplication
I know he will understand. And he does. He turns swiftly around and falls
to the floor on his hands and knees. He bends down at the waist, effectively
raising his perfect backside up for my inspection and pleasure. I take
my lubricated thumb and press it hard against his tight, puckered hole.
He hisses with lust. I fall to my knees behind him and bend over the little
hole, licking around the edges, testing its firmness. I press again with
the ball of my thumb, harder this time and feel a slight give.
‘For fucks sake, Angel! Just fuck me, will you?’
I make a low chuckle. Spike can never wait, never bear the foreplay. If
only he could see what I see when I’m back here. His hole cries out to
be played with. It’s enticing and sensual. But this is for him, more than
it is for me, tonight. So I wipe some more of his cum off my chest and
with two strong fingers gently start easing into his tight, pink entrance.
I bend them up and down, hooking them around the tight ring of muscle,
pulling and stretching it. Spike starts thrusting back further, wriggling
in delighted anticipation. I can disappoint him no longer. Taking my eager
erection in one hand, I start to work the head into the now ready hole.
The sensation as the entrance opens up gradually swallowing the exposed
tip is beyond words. The sight of my purple, engorged length slowly disappearing
into Spike’s body, equally enthralling. I feel my balls contract and throb
with pleasure. I pull back out, fascinated to watch the hole close once
again, leaving no evidence of my three-inch stretch. I push against it
again, getting some delightful friction against my slit before thrusting
in. Spike groans in pleasure and reaches behind with one hand. He places
it on mine and entwines his fingers. And it is that simple loving gesture
that as much as anything tonight, sends me flooding over the edge of my
orgasm. Bending low over his back and holding him tightly around the waist
with my one free hand, I start an intense rhythm of thrusting. My balls
banging delightfully against his hard rear, my pleasure building like
water behind a dam. And then with colours exploding behind my eyes, the
dam bursts and the waters flood out and we are drenched in the endless
spurting of my cum deep inside his body.
I keep thrusting for what seems like minutes. I think I will never empty.
Years of abstinence released by this intense orgasm. My cum drips freely
out onto the floor below us, the slickness and coolness around my cock
only seems to extend the pleasure. When I’m finally spent, I collapse
onto him, crushing him under my now exhausted form. He doesn’t seem to
mind for a while, but then he turns slightly and slips out to one side,
quickly re-establishing contact as he spoons me against his chest. My
last rational thought tonight, as I feel his strong arms around me, as
he reaches behind to gather blankets to cover us where we lie naked on
the floor, my last rational thought is to wonder...in this act, just who
is saving whom tonight?
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