Domestic Bliss
by
Twilightofmagic
“Little higher.” Xander braced his knees and tilted his hips slightly to help Spike adjust the angle of his lazy rhythm. “Oh, yeah. Like that.”
Saturday mornings. Fresh brewed coffee, orange juice, croissants and the papers. Well, the croissants were for Spike—apparently he’d spent a pleasant six months in Paris in the 1890s and enjoyed his pastry spread with clotted blood. Didn’t bear thinking about so generally Xander didn’t. Toaster waffles for him, butter and jam. Don’t mess with the classics was his watchword. He broke off a corner and resumed his scan of the TV guide on the counter in front of him, pushing back so Spike could get a bit deeper.
“So what’s on tonight? Anything worth staying in for?” Spike released his grip on Xander's hips and fucked free form while he spread raspberry jam—‘don’t know what you’re so squeamish about, but anything for a bit of peace’—on his croissant and bit off half, sprinkling flakes onto Xander’s back.
“Hey! A little care there.” It was one thing to multi-task when they were fucking, but dropping crumbs everywhere was just plain rude. He felt a sticky finger dotting his skin, picking up the overflow, and then a short, thoughtful pause in the coital movement.
Xander wiggled his ass and the pleasant in and out resumed. Followed by a wet glop, right between his shoulder blades.
“Spike. What the hell are you doing back there?”
“Hmm? I’m fucking you. Thought you’d know the drill by now.” The vampire snorted as he realized he’d made a pun. “Get it? Drill....oh, never mind.”
The wet glop started to slide, slowly, very slowly.
“What did you put on my back?” Xander pushed himself up on braced arms and tried to look over his shoulder. A hand grasped his hip tightly and he was pushed down onto his elbows.
“Oi. Careful. It’ll drip on the floor and we’ll be sticking for weeks.” Spike speeded up his thrusting to reinforce his point and then slowed to the languorous rhythm again. A cool tongue swiped up his back. Oh, jam. Apparently he was functioning as a side plate as well as a fuck buddy. Sighing, he turned back to the movie guide.
“Nothing much. What do you want to do then?”
“I dunno.” Jam apparently cleaned up, the movement behind him picked up speed, the angle just right.
“Uh, yeah. Just like that.” He put his head on his arms, the paper crinkling under him and began to breathe through his mouth as Spike’s hand stroked his dick to aching hardness. Few minutes more and it would all end in a blaze of glory. Then a long soapy shower and who knows, maybe some more.
Saturday mornings. Same old, same old. And exactly how he liked it.
The End
| Feed the Author |
| Home | Categories | New Stories | Non Spander |