rated R

This is a companion piece to NautiBitz's not-for-younger-readers story, Older.



Drip..... Drip..... Drip.....


It was moving way too fast. She could barely catch it all as it was. Her head moved faster, her tongue licking up each little bead of wetness from the tip.


A drop landed on her with a small plop. She looked down, then back up, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. She resumed her task, more intent and eager. Her mouth followed the length down voraciously, her tongue trailing up and down the sides. She 'mmm'ed and 'ahh'ed as if just doing this alone was better than all the sex in the world.


It was if the decision was left to one person. The person who was watching her with intent eyes, not making a single noise, but holding absolutely still. Almost as if he wanted to preserve this moment... make it golden. Kodak moment, and in a way, it was. She'd never looked more lovely, her head bobbing up and down, her cheeks full, her tongue extending in order to catch that one... tiny... drop...


Spike nearly died right then and there when she sucked her cheeks in and slurped. Instead, he let out a long, loud moan, then shot bolt upright, looking around to make sure his wife hadn't heard him.


Buffy glanced up at him under heavy lids from innocent green eyes, acting curious. She grinned around the object in her mouth, noting her lover's dilemma. That only reinforced her actions, and she hungrily began assaulting it, as a starved man might his last meal.


Spike let out another groan. Louder this time. Louder. Louder. And now, he didn't care if Joyce heard him. Let her find him. Let her think the worst. Let her call the cops and send him to jail. It was all worth it, for this.


Drip.... drip... drip..drip..dripdripdripdripdripdripdrip...




Buffy completed her task, and pulled back, batting her eyes coquettishly. "You like?"


Without replying, Spike jumped her, dragging her down to the ground and pushing his mouth hungrily to hers. Buffy met his kiss with an appreciative moan, limbs latching themselves around his body, legs connecting at the small of his back as he rubbed her slit once, twice, three times before sinking in to her wet heat.


Next to them, the remains of Buffy's popsicle slowly melted into the carpet.







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