Buffy left the park where she and Angel had spent their time together
hugging and kissing. They had come to the edge, as they had of
late, and
he had run as usual from their building passion. Drat the man!
She wanted
more than this teasing and kissing... Hot and horny, she went
home knowing
well the fact she would once again have to solve her own sexual heat
problems...
Buffy went to her room, gathering up her supplies. Masturbation
had become
somewhat of a production for her of late, but she didn't mind.
It was
worth the effort.
Smiling to herself in anticipation, Buffy went into the shower and turned
it on hot, and she slowly started to cleanse herself. This was
her
beginning ritual to her masturbation fantasy where, in her mind, she
was
preparing herself for making love to Angel, and she wanted to be perfect.
She lathered up her hands and slowly ran them all over her body, down
her
sinewy arms and across her pert breasts. She briskly soaped her
abdomen,
and ran her fingers through her pubic hairs as she soaped every part
of her
body. She played with her nipples and pulled and tugged on them,
and felt
the answering response deep within her womb. She washed her hair
slowly
and luxuriously, and when done rinsed her entire body. Getting
out of the
shower she enveloped herself in an humongous fluffy towel and dried
herself
off.
She walked to her room wrapped in a towel to lie on the bed nude.
She had
a bowl of ice water next to the bed, and a towel, the key to her fantasies.
She placed her hands in the ice water until they were so cold
she couldn't
feel her fingers, then dried them on the towel. Slowly she started
to
stroke and play with herself with her cold hands, imagining it was
Angel
who was touching and pleasing her... She had his jacket on the
bed near
her head: the smell of it reminded her of Angel and made her
fantasies
become real in her mind. She as usual she had been totally prepared,
except this time she forgot one major thing: to shut her blinds...
As he usually did, Angel came up to Buffy's window to watch her sleep.
At
first he thought she had gone to bed with his jacket, and then he realized
she wasn't sleeping... no, not at all. In total shocked astonishment,
he
gazed at her through the window.
Buffy was sprawled on her bed, nude, with Angel's jacket near her face.
Her legs were spread and she was giving him a perfect view of her secret
lips. She was slowly playing with her nipples, and massaging
her breasts,
occasionally pinching and pulling at the nipples. As she got
more excited
she turned her face into the jacket.
She ran her hands down her body, and while one hand played with her
breast
and nipple, the other one massaged her pubic hair and lips, slowly
inserting one finger and then another, playing with her clit.
The
moistness built and flowed. She had her eyes closed and she imagined
her
cold hands to be Angel's as they stroked and pleased her. "His"
hands
pleasured her, playing with the nipple until it was a hard little bud
sensitive to the warm air of her room. The other cold hand played
with her
hidden lips, and stroked her clit, raising the stimulation and sending
pleasurable waves through her and keeping the juices flowing.
She moaned
and started to buck her hips into her hand faster and faster as the
tension
built in her, and she rode the crest of pleasure, until she obviously
came
hard. "Oh, Angel," was what she cried at her orgasm.
Angel was dumbfounded. She was masturbating and she was thinking
of him!
He wanted to be in there with her so bad it hurt. He had a raging
hard on,
his dick straining the material of his pants, but he was afraid to
disturb
her. Then, when he thought the show was over, it took a new twist.
Buffy hung over the bed and pulled out a small four-inch dildo, shaped
like
a man's penis, dripping wet. She slowly started to insert the
penis into
her hot love box, and slowly move it in and out, pinching her breast
with
the other hand, and starting to move it faster and faster. Angel
watched
as the passion flushed her skin. Then she did a mysterious thing:
she
took it out of her and dipped it into a bowl of... ice water?
She rapidly
swished it around and then plunged it into herself again, continuing
to
pleasure herself with the ice-cold cock.
It dawned on Angel: she was making the penis "cold"... like he
was cold.
He was often afraid to touch her, crucially aware of their temperature
differences. She told him it didn't matter... Now he saw
plainly that it
really didn't matter: in fact, she gloried in the temperature difference.
Just as he realized it, she rolled over onto her stomach, thrusting
and
impaling herself on the cold penis inside of her as she hugged the
jacket.
She started to talk "pillow talk" into the jacket. Angel listened
with
rapt attention, his hard on getting stiffer and larger.
"Oh, Angel! Harder... I need you so... Deeper...
I love your cold cock
inside of me... I love you... Please, Angel! Deeper!''
Buffy was
thrashing and thrusting on the dildo. "Please, Angel, love me...
I need
you so much!"
Angel couldn't stand it any more, he entered her window.
She never heard
him enter: she was too busy pleasuring herself within her fantasy
of him.
Just as she said, "Oh, Angel... Please... I love you...
I need you to
love me!" he reached down and touched her back and said, "I am here
to do
that."
Buffy was in heaven: she was nearly to orgasm and her fantasy
felt
entirely real. Then she realized that there was someone touching
her back!
With a squeal she rolled over and looked right into Angel's eyes.
A smile
was on his lips as he reached down and pulled her into his embrace
and
kissed her, deeply and thoroughly. The kiss wasn't the little
playing
kisses that they were used to sharing. It was the sensual deep
kiss of a
lover.
"I love you, Buffy," he said as he stroked her body. "I'm here...
You
won't need this," he added as he gently removed the dildo from her
vagina
and dropped it on the floor. "I have the real thing." He
slowly looked at
her as he touched her gently.
"Angel?" She looked scared. "What did you see?" she asked, blushing deeply.
"I saw everything." He bent down and kissed her. He stroked
her breast
with his cold hands in the same manner as she had. Then he kissed
and
suckled the breast while playing with the other. She arched her
back and
moaned, partially saying his name. He took his time. He
knew she was a
virgin, and the little dildo she played with was nowhere near his own
nine-inch proportions.
Buffy looked up, and the love in her eyes was blinding. She slowly
pulled
his shirt off and felt his cold skin against her body. He continued
to
suckle, and she was amazed at his consistent sucking until she remembered
he didn't need to breathe. That thought led to another:
how long could he
go down on her, not needing to breathe?
Almost in response to her thought, his kisses started to go lower, as
he
licked and sucked and nibbled his way down her abdomen, munching on
her
pubic hair, slowly dipping his tongue down along the outside of her
lips.
She moaned and squirmed, and he repositioned his body at the base of
the
bed, grabbing her hips with his hands and "packed a lunch to stay the
day."
Angel loved the musky smell coming from her, and slowly started to lick
the
juices flowing so freely. She moaned and squirmed and bucked.
He just
slowly continued to lick and tantalize her. Gently he played
with her
clitoris with his tongue, and she bucked like his tongue was an electric
prod. He just held on tight and continued.
Her passion was building like it had never built when she pleasured
herself, wave after wave of peaking delight. She felt his head
between her
thighs, and no matter how hard she clamped her thighs, he never stopped.
She thrust her pussy into his face with a animalistic growl.
She needed
something, but had no idea what.
With one hand, Angel reached down and stripped off his pants, kicking
them
off as Buffy fucked his face. He waited until she was mindless
in her
action and then, with vampire-quick movement, he changed position and
was
atop her with his manhood plunged deeply within her. He could
feel her
warm moist vagina tear with his entrance and then clamp down and milk
him
for all he was worth as she came.
She came in a massive orgasm merely at his entrance into her.
She looked
up into his eyes, passion flooding her face, and moaned deeply, bucking
her
hips to meet him. "I love you," was all he said to her as he
started to
rock with the rhythm old as time.
Buffy was sated and complete with the man she loved between her legs
and
deep within her. She didn't care what the morning would bring:
he was
hers tonight. She didn't think it was possible but she was starting
to
build tension again. *Could you die from too much orgasm?* she
wondered
for a moment before losing her thinking ability.
Angel started to feel her respond to him again and he smiled.
She was an
open book. He felt his own passion building and decided this
was not the
night for an all-night marathon: deflowered virgins tended to overreach
themselves if not cared for properly. As he felt the passion
building and
he knew he was close to his own orgasm, the smell of her virgin blood
from
her deflowering filled his nostrils and bloodlust came over him.
He wanted
to do as he had done to many of his victims for a hundred and more
years,
and drain her at the moment of orgasm, but he wouldn't; he couldn't:
this
was Buffy. He reached and leaned forward and instead of biting
her neck,
sank his fangs into her pillow as he moaned with his own orgasm and
pumped
his juices into her as she came with him.
Buffy was shocked to find Angel's face buried in her pillow as he moaned
with his own orgasm. She felt the ridges on his face against
her face and
realized that, at orgasm, he had changed into game face. She
realized she
really didn't care, and she tipped over into her own orgasm.
She lay there, trying to catch her breath, while he didn't move.
She
wondered if he was unconscious. He slowly raised his head and
spit out
feathers, and she laughed. He looked so cute, in game face, spitting
out
the feathers stuck to his tongue. She realized then how close
she had been
to him really biting her. Fear laced through her.
"Are you all right?" she asked, as he morphed back to human. "Yes,"
he
replied as he stroked her shoulder and ran a finger down her arm to
rest on
her breast. "You almost bit me, didn't you?" she asked with her
eyes wide.
"Yes," he replied, as he hid his head from her. "But you
didn't!" She
lifted his head to see blood-tinged tears in his eyes. *Ann Rice
was right
about that!* "That was why you were so afraid to make love to
me?" she
asked, realizing just why he had been so afraid of their building passions
of late. "Yes," he replied softly. She kissed him deeply,
and found a
feather he hadn't gotten out of his mouth yet. They played tongue
hockey
with the feather until they were giggling.
"So, *now* what is your excuse for not making love to me?" She
eyed him
challengingly.
"Allergic to feathers?"
Fin
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