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A special order of Spawn
Aug. 16th, 2003 12:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
essene_backupjust for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
diva_stardust because she gave me my first offer of sex for smut ever!
Here's a prequel to the tidbit:
Dawn thought of him often. No. Every. Damn. Time. She'd touch her small, tender breasts. Pinch her tiny pointed nipples until she teared. She'd part her legs, spread her folds wide and stroke the silken skin there until it pulsed and plumped. She'd dip her fingers down and into her tight, puffy opening, coat them with slippery fluid and make mad circles and figure eights over and over the growing nub until her thighs shook, her breathing stopped and her eyes rolled back.
They were always his fingers. Long and lean, banded with silver, nails smudged with black that played her aching flesh until she screamed into her pillows. The glinting blue eyes that watched her from the corner were his, following every stroke, every arch, every moan.
Sometimes she even thought she could see the moonlight dance off his slick and crisp white head. Bent in concentration over her form.
And the smell. It covered her clothes. It came home with her from his crypt. Stale smoke. Bitter, yet heady alchohol. Metallic blood. And a final scent, a scent she only found in his presence; a musky, suprisingly warm odor, buried under the others. It was this, that made her wet. Forced her to touch and worry her body's center. All the while thinking only, Spike, Spike...oh god, Spike.
*****************
He could smell it on her when she walked in the door. She let it thud behind her and walked casually over to the chair, dumping her backpack as she went. She did the same thing she always did. Turned on the telly, stretched out, and dozed off. This time though, he did not.
Usually, he'd putter around the crypt, dump a few blood bags, search for some corn chips or other foodstuff for her to eat when she woke, read...but today....today she had come in and set him on fire. He knew she didn't know he could sense it, smell it, hell, feel it in the air. Her sex fairly screamed at him. She was either playing a naughty game that young girls shouldn't play mid-day, or she'd unconsciously let down her juices. He knew it was probably the latter, but he let his mind wander to thoughts of the first. That she had readied herself for him.
He stayed safely behind the bar and focused on her hair, splayed out like so much shining silk. He imagined tangling his hands in it, pulling it, carressing it, wrapping it around....
His pants were uncomfortably tight. He reached down and released himself, his hand playing idly over the tip of his cock, feather-light, like her hair. His eyes drifted to her profile: smooth brow, perfectly curved nose, full, slightly parted lips...he wrapped his hand around himself and gave a viscious downward stroke as he briefly imagined sliding into the hot cavern behind the glossy pinkness. She'd lick him like one of her bleeding lollis she would, dipping her pointed tounge into each and every crevice and small hole, tasting him, savoring him. And she'd suck. Like a baby from a bottle, she'd try to find nourishment in what he had to offer, squeeze him between her cheeks and tounge and palate in rhythmic cadence.
Spike's eyes had left Dawn's face as they closed and his head rolled back. His fist worked harder and faster, his thumb traversed a path of wetness up and down the length of his cock as he imagined her mouth, her lips, her tounge, her throat, her skin, and her wide, wide eyes. All open, wet and willing for him. With a final twist he came, clenching his jaw to stifle the shout that threatened. Momentarily unbalanced, he grabbed the makeshift counter for support, and gazed blearily at the floor.
Her eyes were fixed and shining when he raised his head.
diva_stardust because she gave me my first offer of sex for smut ever!Here's a prequel to the tidbit:
Dawn thought of him often. No. Every. Damn. Time. She'd touch her small, tender breasts. Pinch her tiny pointed nipples until she teared. She'd part her legs, spread her folds wide and stroke the silken skin there until it pulsed and plumped. She'd dip her fingers down and into her tight, puffy opening, coat them with slippery fluid and make mad circles and figure eights over and over the growing nub until her thighs shook, her breathing stopped and her eyes rolled back.
They were always his fingers. Long and lean, banded with silver, nails smudged with black that played her aching flesh until she screamed into her pillows. The glinting blue eyes that watched her from the corner were his, following every stroke, every arch, every moan.
Sometimes she even thought she could see the moonlight dance off his slick and crisp white head. Bent in concentration over her form.
And the smell. It covered her clothes. It came home with her from his crypt. Stale smoke. Bitter, yet heady alchohol. Metallic blood. And a final scent, a scent she only found in his presence; a musky, suprisingly warm odor, buried under the others. It was this, that made her wet. Forced her to touch and worry her body's center. All the while thinking only, Spike, Spike...oh god, Spike.
*****************
He could smell it on her when she walked in the door. She let it thud behind her and walked casually over to the chair, dumping her backpack as she went. She did the same thing she always did. Turned on the telly, stretched out, and dozed off. This time though, he did not.
Usually, he'd putter around the crypt, dump a few blood bags, search for some corn chips or other foodstuff for her to eat when she woke, read...but today....today she had come in and set him on fire. He knew she didn't know he could sense it, smell it, hell, feel it in the air. Her sex fairly screamed at him. She was either playing a naughty game that young girls shouldn't play mid-day, or she'd unconsciously let down her juices. He knew it was probably the latter, but he let his mind wander to thoughts of the first. That she had readied herself for him.
He stayed safely behind the bar and focused on her hair, splayed out like so much shining silk. He imagined tangling his hands in it, pulling it, carressing it, wrapping it around....
His pants were uncomfortably tight. He reached down and released himself, his hand playing idly over the tip of his cock, feather-light, like her hair. His eyes drifted to her profile: smooth brow, perfectly curved nose, full, slightly parted lips...he wrapped his hand around himself and gave a viscious downward stroke as he briefly imagined sliding into the hot cavern behind the glossy pinkness. She'd lick him like one of her bleeding lollis she would, dipping her pointed tounge into each and every crevice and small hole, tasting him, savoring him. And she'd suck. Like a baby from a bottle, she'd try to find nourishment in what he had to offer, squeeze him between her cheeks and tounge and palate in rhythmic cadence.
Spike's eyes had left Dawn's face as they closed and his head rolled back. His fist worked harder and faster, his thumb traversed a path of wetness up and down the length of his cock as he imagined her mouth, her lips, her tounge, her throat, her skin, and her wide, wide eyes. All open, wet and willing for him. With a final twist he came, clenching his jaw to stifle the shout that threatened. Momentarily unbalanced, he grabbed the makeshift counter for support, and gazed blearily at the floor.
Her eyes were fixed and shining when he raised his head.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 01:08 pm (UTC)Wonderfully written.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 01:46 pm (UTC)Aw, you make me giddy with your praise!
There's more abrewin'...and take consolation in the fact that it's all your fault.
::yelp:: Harder! ::groan::
no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 01:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 01:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 01:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 02:09 pm (UTC)You guys ask so prettily how can I refuse?
Thanks for being smutty with me.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 06:01 pm (UTC)Sheesh. My whole Saturday! Spent in smutville!
::sigh::
no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 06:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 08:10 pm (UTC)Maybe we need a "cool-down" scene?
Aw hell.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-16 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-17 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-17 08:06 pm (UTC)You're sweet.