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[slay]

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[bigbad]

Don't worry. [He sounds amused.] I promise not to get arrested 'til we're through. [He doubted the bloke he stole the cellphone from would think to look here.] Now be a good girl and tweak a nipple for me.

[slay]

Don't tell me what to do. [ her fingertips brushed over her nipple, and that alone had it crinkling into a hardened nub that strained against her shirt, but she went on to pinch it through that fabric. the noise she made was soft, barely perceptible, an abrupt exhale in the back of her throat. her jaw slackened. ]

Where are you? [ she swallowed thickly, gaze fixed on her bed, appraising it with no small amount of reluctance. if she sat on it, she'd be resigning herself to playing his stupid game. ]

[bigbad]

In my crypt. [His voice is husky and low, rough with desire, and a little smug because he can hear the noises she's making. He knows what she's doing, and it's exactly what he's telling her to do.] On my bed. Touching my cock.

[slay]

I didn't ask you that. [ but she hears her blood rush in her ears because it sure explains the rough edge in his voice. she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head to dispel the mental image that has a fresh surge of wetness soaking her underwear. she paces to her desk, fitting the phone between her cheek and shoulder and forcing herself to start straightening up as a distraction. ] I'm not playing this game. You wanna jerk off thinking of me? Fine. But don't call me every time you do it.

[bigbad]

Your phone would never stop ringing if I did. [It's an exaggeration. Now he can actually fuck her and it's a million times better than wanking could ever be. But it's not much of one.] You ever think of me when you touch yourself? [He's guessing she'll say no, and he's certain it'll be a lie, but he'll still ask.]

[slay]

Oh -- Spike, eww. I do not -- [ do that stuff. or at least don't admit to it. it's force of socialized habit. when girls do it, it's icky. she's defensive before it even occurs to her that any kind of pretense is wasted on spike. ]

[bigbad]

All that defensiveness hides a yes, right? [He doesn't wait for a response.] I'm thinking about your mouth right now. Those full, pouty lips of yours. [He runs a hand up his cock, swiping a thumb over the tip, and lets out a low moan.] Love how they look wrapped around my cock.

[slay]

[ her breath is heavier, audible. she turns and leans her hips back against the desk, just listening to him for a moment. she decides something, then. relents. gives him an in. ]

A skirt. [ beat. ] I'm wearing a skirt. [ she sinks down so she's more sitting on the desk than leaning against it. the body language of someone defeated. ] The, um. The one with the lace.

[bigbad]

Sounds pretty. [He knew she'd fold. She always folds.] Pull it up for me, love. Picture it's me. What's beneath?

[slay]

[ she wedges the phone between her cheek and shoulder again, reaching down to hike up her skirt slowly, letting the fabric fold between her fingers as she inches it up. her fingers glide slowly up the inside of her thigh then, stopping at the hem of her panties as her breathing grows rough.

oh. they're just patterned cotton panties. her glance skirts the room quickly because nope find something sexier, buffy. ]

Underwear. [ she points out with a coy duh voice. her fingertips slowly trace along her damp inseam. ] They're, um. All red lace. And stringy. [ her tone makes it pretty clear she's just inventing these underwear in her head and adding traits to them as she goes along. ]

[bigbad]

[Red and lacy. Sure. But he lets her have her delusion.] Sounds sexy. Like they're just begging to be torn off by your lover.

[slay]

Oh, or the love of -- Do you know how many pairs of underwear you've ruined? You're not tearing anything off. And - And lover is a very strong word. You're not. [ she moves her hand from her panties, sitting up straighter and resting it on the desk beside her. ] I mean it. [ though she will add, ] But ... Yes. Since you pointed it out, they're very sexy.

[bigbad]

I did offer to get you new ones. [She's just so hung up on the paying for them idea. Probably hung up on paying with stolen money too, even though that one's almost like legal.] Fine. Begging to be gently and carefully removed by a lover. Just take them off, would you?

[slay]

Now you're just being unrealistic. Gentle, in your vocabulary? [ but she does push her much-less-exciting underwear down from under her skirt as she smiles against the receiver. she lifts one leg at a time to get out of them. she slings them over her desk chair and spreads her thighs, dragging her fingertips up her inseam. ] They're all damp.

[bigbad]

Guess you're enjoying this, then. [He knew it. He runs his hand over his own prick, smearing pre-come with his thumb.] Me too. You should feel how hard I am, thinking about you.

[slay]

Thinking about me how? [ she needles, fingernails scratching lightly against her inner thigh, breath coming unevenly into the receiver. she licks her lips, hesitates, then strips off her shoes, dropping them with two loud thuds to her bedroom floor. she walks over to the bed, sprawling across it, rolling onto her back and drawing her knees up, shutting her eyes. ]

[bigbad]

Doing whatever it is you're doing to make you breathe like that. Talk to me love. [He licks his lips, shifting in bed.] What are you doing now?

[slay]

I'm wrapping my full and pouty lips around your -- um. [ she started off so strongly -- sassy, even, -- but tripped at the finish line. it was so close to empowered, too. ] Your hard ...

[bigbad]

My hard what? [So close, but he knows she can do better.] Come on, love. You can say the word.

[slay]

[ there's a moment's silence as buffy casts a strained look at her door, trying to listen for the others in the house before finally settling on saying it. and then building herself up to it. ] Cock. [ her voice is more hushed as she says it, because she can't help the paranoia that dawn will somehow hear. more decisively, she adds; ] I'm sucking your cock.

[bigbad]

[She's rewarded with a loud groan.] Your mouth feels so good, love. All warm and wet. I'm trying to hold back and let you work, but you're so hot like that, love. Hard not to move.

[slay]

I like it when you can't hold back. [ she blurts it out, trying to curb her own habit of stopping herself from saying things. she finally moves her fingers to the apex of her thighs, exhaling heavily with just an edge of a moan at the wetness she finds there. she spreads her thighs, her fingers sliding over her outer lips. her breath is ragged now, undisguised. ] When you move like that, I can't help myself. I have to touch my, um. To touch myself, w-while I suck you off.

[bigbad]

Touch yourself where? [He presses. He loves this game. He loves that she managed to say cock, now he wants to hear her say cunt or pussy or even vagina. He just loves hearing sufh filthy words coming out in her sweet, innocent good-girl voice.]

[slay]

[ she gives a little choked moan, lifting her hips off the bed, squirming. ]

You know where. [ the way she says it is a little pouty - deflective. she slowly slides her middle finger down the center of her slit, parting her lips. her breath hitches. ] My pussy. [ the sooner she gets the word out, the sooner she can get on with it. she surprises herself in how blunt it comes out. ] And my chest.

[ she shifts to fit the phone against her shoulder again, freeing up her other hand to squeeze one of her tits, thumb flicking over its puckered nipple. she whines. ] I'm playing with my nipples and my pussy while I suck your cock. Just the tip, at first. No matter how you try to move. [ her breaths grow quicker. ] The way your face looks. Makes me all wet. [ the pretense drops and her voice is more ragged, more pleading. ] Spike, I'm so wet.

[bigbad]

[He smiles, proud of how quickly she's grasped it.] Tease. [He licks his palm and wraps it around the tip of his prick, pretending it's her mouth. It's not warm enough, but it's the best he can do.] I want to feel how wet you are. I want to taste. Lick your fingers for me, love. Nice and slow. Tell me how good it is.