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Title: Watching You, Watching Me (CHALLENGE FIC)
Rating: FRAO (previously rated as NC-17)
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Setting: Post BtVS and AtS, but there was no Immortal.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss and an entire alphabet of corporate entertainment entities. I'm just giving them an afterlife.
Author's Dedication: To M, my soulmate, with whom I'll be laughing forever and beyond, and to G who is my yummy live model of all Gilesy goodness!
A/N: Originally posted to GRB on December 17, 2004, but re-jujed (thanks for the word, Carson) for my LJ on May 12, 2005.
Chapter 1
Rupert Giles cursed softly to himself. Not expecting her to have returned from the date with her latest *conquest* so utterly early, he was caught, half naked, relaxing in front of the fireplace when he heard the front door open and then slam shut. Well, he would just have to suffer the stare and, no doubt, grimace of distaste. He steeled himself as she entered the main room a minute later, after hanging up her coat.
"That does it! I'm absolutely giving up on men and this time I really mean it. I'm going to be celibate." With a dramatic swoop of her arms, Buffy flung her body down onto the couch and slumped. Only then did she look up, just to see her former Watcher and now friend and colleague sitting in his tan leather recliner, wearing wine coloured soft woolen trousers and – she swallowed quickly – nothing else.
No socks, no shoes and…*no* shirt. She stared at his chest until, many long moments later during which she could have counted every single graying chest hair…slowly, her eyes drifted upwards. He had a resigned look on his face, but there was also a tinge of defiance in his eyes.
"So, what's with the lack of clothes, Giles?"
"I didn't mean to startle you, Buffy, but you caught me off guard, returning as early as you did. It’s been my custom not to wear much clothing when I am at home."
"Huh? But you always covered up in Sunnydale and it was a lot warmer there."
"Unfortunately, as you lot were always coming through my front door at any hour of the day or night, I forced myself to wear more clothing than I would have preferred. Now that I am returned to England, I have tried to regain some of my favourite habits, but only when you are not here."
She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth and looked down at her lap momentarily. "Does it bother you if I see you topless?"
He replied softly, "No, Buffy, I merely did not wish to offend you with an unwelcome and inappropriate display."
She shrugged. "Um, Giles, if you're going waaay back, that's not why I wigged then. And I think I'm a bit more grownup now. Besides, this is your home and I want you to be comfortable. I'm just your pesky, long-term guest, so don't let me interfere with your routines. I’ll deal. Anyway, what else is on your favourite habits list?"
Not expecting her to be as accepting, Giles was entirely confounded by her question. He was not accustomed to discussing things that were, well, personal. He tried to be nonchalant in his reply. "Ah, just a bit of brandy and listening to music, that's all."
"Well, don't let me stop you."
The images that flooded through his head made the blood rush to his cock and his cheeks turned red. //Thank God these are loose trousers, or else I would be found out.//
In order to distract her, he decided to change the topic, leaping upon the opening her arrival had provided. "Oh, I'm all right for now. But, what did I hear you exclaim when you came in? Did you actually say you were going to enter into a celibate state? Mmm?" He smiled at her with a saucy tilt of his head.
Now it was Buffy's turn to blush. She hadn’t realized how such a line could make her feel so vulnerable. Saying something like that to Willow, even Dawn, would have been one thing, but to blurt it out in front of Giles was so not a good thing. She began to fidget, trying to find a way out of revealing anything more embarrassing about her lackluster love life.
"Um, well, I’m trying to date again and it's just not working. All they want to do is either get right to the smoochies, and you know I mean way more than that, or else they just talk and talk and talk even though we've got nothing in common. So I'm on the defensive half the time and bored silly the other half."
He reflected upon what she had said and chose to proceed cautiously. "Buffy, have you really thought about what you want in a man, presuming that you *are* interested only in men?"
He saw her shake her head and grin. "Nope, not kind'a gay, here."
"In that case, you must examine your previous relationships. Two vampires and I believe two, er…," his voice trailed off.
"Does jerks hit the spot?"
"Well, I was thinking pillocks, but jerks will do. In any case, Buffy, you know you haven't made the best decisions, first to be swept up by a foolish and ultimately dangerous liaison with a vampire, then to go through a couple of immature boys and finally to grasp another vampire in desperation. And, yes, I will admit that both Angel and William have taken steps towards redeeming themselves, but it was still unwise for you to take them as lovers."
In the silence that followed, they could both hear the distinct, exact ticks of the clock on the wall.
Finally, she whispered with a hint of tears in her eyes, "Is it so bad to want not to be alone?"
"No, of course not, Buffy. But you have to allow your better judgment to influence whom you choose. And, for that to happen, not only do you have to know as much as possible about the man, you have to know about yourself."
"Again with the `Huh?' You're way over my head, Giles."
Noting that his cock had by now retreated gracefully, Giles rose confidently from his recliner and walked over to Buffy on the couch. He kneeled, so that he could look her in the eye.
"Unless you understand yourself, you will never find anyone compatible, anyone who will complement you. Do you know what gives you pleasure and, no, I don't mean sex, although that is a part of it? What makes you smile, or laugh, or have rib-creaking guffaws and, yes, all of those could take place during sex?"
Buffy was stunned. Giles had never spoken to her so openly. And, here she was, embarking on celibacy. Her timing sucked. "So, how am I going to find out all of these things, if I've just decided to become celibate?"
He merely stared at her, until her face became flushed and her head dropped. //Oh, God, I don't believe I just asked that question.//
He gently tilted her head up. "Buffy, you have to love yourself. Explore what you like, find new hobbies, experiment and, yes, I mean sexually as well. Don’t be too rash in coming to a decision about celibacy. At least, not yet."
"Um, okay, so still thinking about celibacy. But, if you're all for the knowing yourself, why are you still alone?" As soon as it was out of her mouth, she hated herself for asking such a stupid, tactless and potentially hurtful question.
He was indulgent with his response. "Really, Buffy, do the words Hellmouth, Slayer and Watcher not ring a bell? It is difficult in the best of times to find a soulmate, but to have to keep an integral part of your life secret from your partner is almost impossible to do."
"Oh, great. Now I screwed up your sex life as well." She rolled her eyes in disgust.
"No, don't blame yourself. You didn't, er, screw anything up. Our destinies were bound to create complications. Besides, perhaps I also have not found the right person for me yet."
"Geez, aren't we a pair? You'd think there'd be someone out there. Oh, well, listen, I'm going to wash up and go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
Anticipating her departure, Giles rose from the floor and returned to his recliner. Buffy skipped the few steps over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the advice, Giles."
"Anytime. Good night, Buffy." After she had run up the stairs, he sighed. If only she knew. He *did* have a potential soulmate, only one who was so unaware of her own desires. Well, he would have to console himself with fantasies of her, as usual.
About an hour later – when he heard no noise from upstairs, he added more wood to the fire and turned the lights low. He put a soft jazz CD on. Strange, how jazz could sometimes mirror what was in his heart: the longing, the ache, the lack of fulfillment and, yet, always hope.
Snatching a knitted throw from the couch, he spread it out in front of the fireplace. Cocking his head once again upwards, he nodded to himself with satisfaction. He was alone, as far as he was concerned. He poured himself a snifter of brandy (the good stuff which a friend brought in from France for him regularly) and lowered himself down onto the throw. He drew off the trousers and tossed them onto the recliner.
His cock had regained its earlier sprightly erection. The head was leaking copious pre-cum, as it had been some time since he had allowed himself the luxury of pleasuring himself. Buffy was in and out so often and only tonight had he thought he would not be interrupted. Well, he had been, but now he could finally relax.
He dropped his glasses into a nearby drawer. Now, where to start? Years of experimentation had taught him that most men were too quick to jump immediately to cock and balls when having a wank. Of course, he would eventually get there, but the journey was so tantalizing. He leaned back against the couch and drew his hands through the hair on his head, feeling the soft waves ruffling against his roughened fingertips.
Ah, yes, his fingers. Mangled by…unfortunate circumstance //Now that’s a euphemism for Angelus if ever I heard one// and worn down through the harsh nature of his industrious calling, they were still an essential source of pleasure to him. One by one, he brought them to his lips and gently sucked them into his mouth. He teased his tongue and palate with them. Oh, he did like the sucking. Give him a few fingers, breasts pert or lush, a glistening pearl of a clit, or assertively jaunty cock…ah, yes, now how would Buffy react to that bit of startling information?
He shook the thought off and went back to using his fingers. Now that they were wet, he trailed them down his chest, swirling them through his chest hairs and circling his nipples. He hissed. His nipples were very sensitive. He remoistened a couple of fingers and then continued the path down to his belly, through the sparse hairs above his cock, to caress the creases on either side of it. The skin between thighs and torso was very delicate and he loved it when a partner licked and kissed it. Again, he sighed at the absence of a lover and reached over to have a few more sips of brandy.
He ran a hand up his arm and repeated the action on the other one. Such a utilitarian body part, the arm, but also containing many sensitive nerve endings. He followed with light scratches from his fingernails along both arms. Finally, tired of teasing himself (which was essentially non-gratifying, as the element of surprise was absent), he drained the last of his brandy.
He looked down at his cock that was pulsing insistently and demanding homage. He decided he wanted a bit of rough play tonight, so did not bring out additional lubricant. His own fluids would be sufficient.
His right hand wandered down to fondle his balls, fingers also skittering along the perineum. //No, not tonight, old chap.// He thought he'd leave the anal play for another time when he was absolutely certain Buffy would be away. He brought his left hand to grasp his cock firmly but gently. Groaning softly, he thrust into his fist, his body instinctively moving into a warm and welcome source of friction.
*****
In the middle of the night, Buffy woke up, thirsty. Tiptoeing down the stairs in her cozy PJs and socks, she walked into the main room. There was some heat still from the fireplace, but the lights were dimmed. She was startled to come across the nude body of her Watcher, splayed across the throw on the floor, with the dried evidence of an ejaculation on his belly and chest. The left hand was resting on his belly and, //Ohmygod,// he had a couple of fingers of his right hand in his mouth, obviously having fallen asleep sucking on them.
She couldn't believe how hot the sight was making her. She advanced a little closer. Rather than evoking memories of "Ewww," seeing her Watcher nude and knowing he had come while she was upstairs, bemoaning her loveless state, made her incredibly horny. She drew her eyes over every part of his relaxed, exposed body, imprinting upon her memory every single scar he had earned defending her. Her eyes widened. Some she’d never seen before, because they’d been covered up by clothing.
She was worried, though, that he would catch cold if he stayed there all night. But if she covered him up, he’d know that she’d seen him and what he’d been up to. //Up to - God, why do I even put these words in my mind?// She decided to risk the embarrassment and awkwardness; retrieving another throw from the couch, she draped it gently over his body. Still unable to draw herself away from the scene of intense sexual activity, even if he’d been alone, she breathed in the air and sensed the echoes of tea, of brandy, and of Gilesy goodness.
Buffy turned off the lights and tiptoed carefully up the stairs and back to bed. The only problem now was she was too horny to sleep. But wasn't she supposed to be celibate now? Didn't that mean no sex at all? Totally frustrated, she pulled a pillow over her head and moaned.
Finally she fell asleep, her head filled with new images of Giles, playing with his body, his cock and coming. She imagined what it would
look like…
feel like…
taste like.
Her lips turned up into a smile as she slept.
Chapter 2
Rupert Giles cursed softly to himself. Every muscle in his body was protesting - loudly. He opened his eyes and glanced blearily about. He had fallen asleep on the floor after a very satisfying orgasm in front of the fireplace. However, something was not right. The lamps had been turned off and hints of pre-dawn light were peeking in through the crack between the curtains. Also, he did not remember covering himself with another throw.
//Dear Lord! That could only mean that Buffy found me this way some time during the night. How am I to face her? Will she think me a complete pervert??// His flustered thoughts occupied him so he missed her soft steps on the stairs.
"Hi, Giles."
His head snapped upward. He was caught. Thank God he was covered up, because his cock was having mutinous ideas of its own again. "B-B-Buffy. You shouldn't have to see me this way."
"What way, Giles? As a man? As a sexy man?"
"You can't possibly mean that." He brushed a hand through the air in a dismissive gesture.
But he was no match for Buffy with her hands on her hips. Even in soft cuddly pyjamas, she was still a formidable opponent. "Why not? Just because I was young and stupid once, does that mean I can't learn from the past and appreciate what’s right before my eyes?"
"But it's wrong."
"Oh, right, let's see. I'm too young, you're too old. You're my Watcher and I'm your Slayer. And, besides, people just wouldn't understand. Blah, blah, blah. Guess what, I just don't care. It's not my fault I was born when I was or you a couple of decades earlier. And you're no longer my Watcher. You're the Boss-man and I'm your closest colleague on the New Council. And, if people don't understand, screw'em. Any other objections?"
"But-but you said you were going to be celibate. What about that decision?"
Buffy sat down on the throw and extended a hand to touch his arm lightly. "Look, just because I don't exactly want to do anything right now – and does doing it to myself cancel out the celibacy thing – doesn't mean that I don't want to explore you, Rupert Giles, `cuz you're one hell of a sexy man."
"I, uh, think the modern definition of celibacy allows you to give yourself pleasure but not to indulge in it with companions. Oh, and, th-thank you."
"Okay, so next time I'm going to play with myself, rather than driving myself crazy with need in the middle of the night. That's what you did to me. That's what you *do* to me. Right now, all I want to do is learn everything about you – from your point of view. I want to know what turns you on or off, and everything else you said, about smiling, laughing and, um, belly laughs. Maybe, when I know what you like, I'll feel better about finding out what I like and I'll let you watch. But now, it's my turn to be the Watcher and for you to be watched."
She lowered her other hand and slowly dragged the throw off his body. He simply looked at her, stunned. He could not believe that this sometimes infuriating child/woman, whom he’d admired, lusted for - and loved - wanted him…and in such an unusual manner. His cock had subsided from the original shock, but was now greeting them both with a good morning salute. //Oh, well, it never had any brains to speak of.//
"Please, show me. I want to learn everything about you and especially more about your body. Don't send me away. If you want, I can sit on the couch, but I think I'd like to stay close to you, so I can watch your face, your eyes, your passion. I want to see you come, Rupert. Show me…."
He could not refuse the love of his life. He hoped he would never regret this unusual gift of intimacy he was about to bestow on her. He prayed to all the Gods that this was the right thing to do. "I would be honoured if you would stay and watch, luv."
"Thank you," she replied, suddenly shy. But she was still bold enough to grasp his right hand, bring it up to her lips, kiss it and then lick a few fingers. There was still the faint aroma and taste of his cum and she moaned before she released his hand. "I'm watching…."
*****
Two months later…
There were peals of laughter ringing around their bedroom. Buffy was lying on her back, one hand stuffed in her cunt, the other pinching her nipples, but not able to control the laughter even though she was in the middle of Slayer-strength spasms. She growled at Giles who was lying at the foot of the bed and licking her feet, tickling them mercilessly, while holding down her ankles in his strong grip.
She managed to pant out between contractions, "You just wait…
Watcher mine…
when I'm…
through…
with…
this celibacy…
thing…
I am so…
going to…
kick your…
butt."
Her drawn out threat was greeted with amusement. "I can hardly wait, although there are *other* things you could do with my, er, butt; however, until then, luv, you'll just have to keep on laughing."
End (for now; more to come in second story of this Series)
Rating: FRAO (previously rated as NC-17)
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Setting: Post BtVS and AtS, but there was no Immortal.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss and an entire alphabet of corporate entertainment entities. I'm just giving them an afterlife.
Author's Dedication: To M, my soulmate, with whom I'll be laughing forever and beyond, and to G who is my yummy live model of all Gilesy goodness!
A/N: Originally posted to GRB on December 17, 2004, but re-jujed (thanks for the word, Carson) for my LJ on May 12, 2005.
Chapter 1
Rupert Giles cursed softly to himself. Not expecting her to have returned from the date with her latest *conquest* so utterly early, he was caught, half naked, relaxing in front of the fireplace when he heard the front door open and then slam shut. Well, he would just have to suffer the stare and, no doubt, grimace of distaste. He steeled himself as she entered the main room a minute later, after hanging up her coat.
"That does it! I'm absolutely giving up on men and this time I really mean it. I'm going to be celibate." With a dramatic swoop of her arms, Buffy flung her body down onto the couch and slumped. Only then did she look up, just to see her former Watcher and now friend and colleague sitting in his tan leather recliner, wearing wine coloured soft woolen trousers and – she swallowed quickly – nothing else.
No socks, no shoes and…*no* shirt. She stared at his chest until, many long moments later during which she could have counted every single graying chest hair…slowly, her eyes drifted upwards. He had a resigned look on his face, but there was also a tinge of defiance in his eyes.
"So, what's with the lack of clothes, Giles?"
"I didn't mean to startle you, Buffy, but you caught me off guard, returning as early as you did. It’s been my custom not to wear much clothing when I am at home."
"Huh? But you always covered up in Sunnydale and it was a lot warmer there."
"Unfortunately, as you lot were always coming through my front door at any hour of the day or night, I forced myself to wear more clothing than I would have preferred. Now that I am returned to England, I have tried to regain some of my favourite habits, but only when you are not here."
She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth and looked down at her lap momentarily. "Does it bother you if I see you topless?"
He replied softly, "No, Buffy, I merely did not wish to offend you with an unwelcome and inappropriate display."
She shrugged. "Um, Giles, if you're going waaay back, that's not why I wigged then. And I think I'm a bit more grownup now. Besides, this is your home and I want you to be comfortable. I'm just your pesky, long-term guest, so don't let me interfere with your routines. I’ll deal. Anyway, what else is on your favourite habits list?"
Not expecting her to be as accepting, Giles was entirely confounded by her question. He was not accustomed to discussing things that were, well, personal. He tried to be nonchalant in his reply. "Ah, just a bit of brandy and listening to music, that's all."
"Well, don't let me stop you."
The images that flooded through his head made the blood rush to his cock and his cheeks turned red. //Thank God these are loose trousers, or else I would be found out.//
In order to distract her, he decided to change the topic, leaping upon the opening her arrival had provided. "Oh, I'm all right for now. But, what did I hear you exclaim when you came in? Did you actually say you were going to enter into a celibate state? Mmm?" He smiled at her with a saucy tilt of his head.
Now it was Buffy's turn to blush. She hadn’t realized how such a line could make her feel so vulnerable. Saying something like that to Willow, even Dawn, would have been one thing, but to blurt it out in front of Giles was so not a good thing. She began to fidget, trying to find a way out of revealing anything more embarrassing about her lackluster love life.
"Um, well, I’m trying to date again and it's just not working. All they want to do is either get right to the smoochies, and you know I mean way more than that, or else they just talk and talk and talk even though we've got nothing in common. So I'm on the defensive half the time and bored silly the other half."
He reflected upon what she had said and chose to proceed cautiously. "Buffy, have you really thought about what you want in a man, presuming that you *are* interested only in men?"
He saw her shake her head and grin. "Nope, not kind'a gay, here."
"In that case, you must examine your previous relationships. Two vampires and I believe two, er…," his voice trailed off.
"Does jerks hit the spot?"
"Well, I was thinking pillocks, but jerks will do. In any case, Buffy, you know you haven't made the best decisions, first to be swept up by a foolish and ultimately dangerous liaison with a vampire, then to go through a couple of immature boys and finally to grasp another vampire in desperation. And, yes, I will admit that both Angel and William have taken steps towards redeeming themselves, but it was still unwise for you to take them as lovers."
In the silence that followed, they could both hear the distinct, exact ticks of the clock on the wall.
Finally, she whispered with a hint of tears in her eyes, "Is it so bad to want not to be alone?"
"No, of course not, Buffy. But you have to allow your better judgment to influence whom you choose. And, for that to happen, not only do you have to know as much as possible about the man, you have to know about yourself."
"Again with the `Huh?' You're way over my head, Giles."
Noting that his cock had by now retreated gracefully, Giles rose confidently from his recliner and walked over to Buffy on the couch. He kneeled, so that he could look her in the eye.
"Unless you understand yourself, you will never find anyone compatible, anyone who will complement you. Do you know what gives you pleasure and, no, I don't mean sex, although that is a part of it? What makes you smile, or laugh, or have rib-creaking guffaws and, yes, all of those could take place during sex?"
Buffy was stunned. Giles had never spoken to her so openly. And, here she was, embarking on celibacy. Her timing sucked. "So, how am I going to find out all of these things, if I've just decided to become celibate?"
He merely stared at her, until her face became flushed and her head dropped. //Oh, God, I don't believe I just asked that question.//
He gently tilted her head up. "Buffy, you have to love yourself. Explore what you like, find new hobbies, experiment and, yes, I mean sexually as well. Don’t be too rash in coming to a decision about celibacy. At least, not yet."
"Um, okay, so still thinking about celibacy. But, if you're all for the knowing yourself, why are you still alone?" As soon as it was out of her mouth, she hated herself for asking such a stupid, tactless and potentially hurtful question.
He was indulgent with his response. "Really, Buffy, do the words Hellmouth, Slayer and Watcher not ring a bell? It is difficult in the best of times to find a soulmate, but to have to keep an integral part of your life secret from your partner is almost impossible to do."
"Oh, great. Now I screwed up your sex life as well." She rolled her eyes in disgust.
"No, don't blame yourself. You didn't, er, screw anything up. Our destinies were bound to create complications. Besides, perhaps I also have not found the right person for me yet."
"Geez, aren't we a pair? You'd think there'd be someone out there. Oh, well, listen, I'm going to wash up and go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
Anticipating her departure, Giles rose from the floor and returned to his recliner. Buffy skipped the few steps over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the advice, Giles."
"Anytime. Good night, Buffy." After she had run up the stairs, he sighed. If only she knew. He *did* have a potential soulmate, only one who was so unaware of her own desires. Well, he would have to console himself with fantasies of her, as usual.
About an hour later – when he heard no noise from upstairs, he added more wood to the fire and turned the lights low. He put a soft jazz CD on. Strange, how jazz could sometimes mirror what was in his heart: the longing, the ache, the lack of fulfillment and, yet, always hope.
Snatching a knitted throw from the couch, he spread it out in front of the fireplace. Cocking his head once again upwards, he nodded to himself with satisfaction. He was alone, as far as he was concerned. He poured himself a snifter of brandy (the good stuff which a friend brought in from France for him regularly) and lowered himself down onto the throw. He drew off the trousers and tossed them onto the recliner.
His cock had regained its earlier sprightly erection. The head was leaking copious pre-cum, as it had been some time since he had allowed himself the luxury of pleasuring himself. Buffy was in and out so often and only tonight had he thought he would not be interrupted. Well, he had been, but now he could finally relax.
He dropped his glasses into a nearby drawer. Now, where to start? Years of experimentation had taught him that most men were too quick to jump immediately to cock and balls when having a wank. Of course, he would eventually get there, but the journey was so tantalizing. He leaned back against the couch and drew his hands through the hair on his head, feeling the soft waves ruffling against his roughened fingertips.
Ah, yes, his fingers. Mangled by…unfortunate circumstance //Now that’s a euphemism for Angelus if ever I heard one// and worn down through the harsh nature of his industrious calling, they were still an essential source of pleasure to him. One by one, he brought them to his lips and gently sucked them into his mouth. He teased his tongue and palate with them. Oh, he did like the sucking. Give him a few fingers, breasts pert or lush, a glistening pearl of a clit, or assertively jaunty cock…ah, yes, now how would Buffy react to that bit of startling information?
He shook the thought off and went back to using his fingers. Now that they were wet, he trailed them down his chest, swirling them through his chest hairs and circling his nipples. He hissed. His nipples were very sensitive. He remoistened a couple of fingers and then continued the path down to his belly, through the sparse hairs above his cock, to caress the creases on either side of it. The skin between thighs and torso was very delicate and he loved it when a partner licked and kissed it. Again, he sighed at the absence of a lover and reached over to have a few more sips of brandy.
He ran a hand up his arm and repeated the action on the other one. Such a utilitarian body part, the arm, but also containing many sensitive nerve endings. He followed with light scratches from his fingernails along both arms. Finally, tired of teasing himself (which was essentially non-gratifying, as the element of surprise was absent), he drained the last of his brandy.
He looked down at his cock that was pulsing insistently and demanding homage. He decided he wanted a bit of rough play tonight, so did not bring out additional lubricant. His own fluids would be sufficient.
His right hand wandered down to fondle his balls, fingers also skittering along the perineum. //No, not tonight, old chap.// He thought he'd leave the anal play for another time when he was absolutely certain Buffy would be away. He brought his left hand to grasp his cock firmly but gently. Groaning softly, he thrust into his fist, his body instinctively moving into a warm and welcome source of friction.
*****
In the middle of the night, Buffy woke up, thirsty. Tiptoeing down the stairs in her cozy PJs and socks, she walked into the main room. There was some heat still from the fireplace, but the lights were dimmed. She was startled to come across the nude body of her Watcher, splayed across the throw on the floor, with the dried evidence of an ejaculation on his belly and chest. The left hand was resting on his belly and, //Ohmygod,// he had a couple of fingers of his right hand in his mouth, obviously having fallen asleep sucking on them.
She couldn't believe how hot the sight was making her. She advanced a little closer. Rather than evoking memories of "Ewww," seeing her Watcher nude and knowing he had come while she was upstairs, bemoaning her loveless state, made her incredibly horny. She drew her eyes over every part of his relaxed, exposed body, imprinting upon her memory every single scar he had earned defending her. Her eyes widened. Some she’d never seen before, because they’d been covered up by clothing.
She was worried, though, that he would catch cold if he stayed there all night. But if she covered him up, he’d know that she’d seen him and what he’d been up to. //Up to - God, why do I even put these words in my mind?// She decided to risk the embarrassment and awkwardness; retrieving another throw from the couch, she draped it gently over his body. Still unable to draw herself away from the scene of intense sexual activity, even if he’d been alone, she breathed in the air and sensed the echoes of tea, of brandy, and of Gilesy goodness.
Buffy turned off the lights and tiptoed carefully up the stairs and back to bed. The only problem now was she was too horny to sleep. But wasn't she supposed to be celibate now? Didn't that mean no sex at all? Totally frustrated, she pulled a pillow over her head and moaned.
Finally she fell asleep, her head filled with new images of Giles, playing with his body, his cock and coming. She imagined what it would
look like…
feel like…
taste like.
Her lips turned up into a smile as she slept.
Chapter 2
Rupert Giles cursed softly to himself. Every muscle in his body was protesting - loudly. He opened his eyes and glanced blearily about. He had fallen asleep on the floor after a very satisfying orgasm in front of the fireplace. However, something was not right. The lamps had been turned off and hints of pre-dawn light were peeking in through the crack between the curtains. Also, he did not remember covering himself with another throw.
//Dear Lord! That could only mean that Buffy found me this way some time during the night. How am I to face her? Will she think me a complete pervert??// His flustered thoughts occupied him so he missed her soft steps on the stairs.
"Hi, Giles."
His head snapped upward. He was caught. Thank God he was covered up, because his cock was having mutinous ideas of its own again. "B-B-Buffy. You shouldn't have to see me this way."
"What way, Giles? As a man? As a sexy man?"
"You can't possibly mean that." He brushed a hand through the air in a dismissive gesture.
But he was no match for Buffy with her hands on her hips. Even in soft cuddly pyjamas, she was still a formidable opponent. "Why not? Just because I was young and stupid once, does that mean I can't learn from the past and appreciate what’s right before my eyes?"
"But it's wrong."
"Oh, right, let's see. I'm too young, you're too old. You're my Watcher and I'm your Slayer. And, besides, people just wouldn't understand. Blah, blah, blah. Guess what, I just don't care. It's not my fault I was born when I was or you a couple of decades earlier. And you're no longer my Watcher. You're the Boss-man and I'm your closest colleague on the New Council. And, if people don't understand, screw'em. Any other objections?"
"But-but you said you were going to be celibate. What about that decision?"
Buffy sat down on the throw and extended a hand to touch his arm lightly. "Look, just because I don't exactly want to do anything right now – and does doing it to myself cancel out the celibacy thing – doesn't mean that I don't want to explore you, Rupert Giles, `cuz you're one hell of a sexy man."
"I, uh, think the modern definition of celibacy allows you to give yourself pleasure but not to indulge in it with companions. Oh, and, th-thank you."
"Okay, so next time I'm going to play with myself, rather than driving myself crazy with need in the middle of the night. That's what you did to me. That's what you *do* to me. Right now, all I want to do is learn everything about you – from your point of view. I want to know what turns you on or off, and everything else you said, about smiling, laughing and, um, belly laughs. Maybe, when I know what you like, I'll feel better about finding out what I like and I'll let you watch. But now, it's my turn to be the Watcher and for you to be watched."
She lowered her other hand and slowly dragged the throw off his body. He simply looked at her, stunned. He could not believe that this sometimes infuriating child/woman, whom he’d admired, lusted for - and loved - wanted him…and in such an unusual manner. His cock had subsided from the original shock, but was now greeting them both with a good morning salute. //Oh, well, it never had any brains to speak of.//
"Please, show me. I want to learn everything about you and especially more about your body. Don't send me away. If you want, I can sit on the couch, but I think I'd like to stay close to you, so I can watch your face, your eyes, your passion. I want to see you come, Rupert. Show me…."
He could not refuse the love of his life. He hoped he would never regret this unusual gift of intimacy he was about to bestow on her. He prayed to all the Gods that this was the right thing to do. "I would be honoured if you would stay and watch, luv."
"Thank you," she replied, suddenly shy. But she was still bold enough to grasp his right hand, bring it up to her lips, kiss it and then lick a few fingers. There was still the faint aroma and taste of his cum and she moaned before she released his hand. "I'm watching…."
*****
Two months later…
There were peals of laughter ringing around their bedroom. Buffy was lying on her back, one hand stuffed in her cunt, the other pinching her nipples, but not able to control the laughter even though she was in the middle of Slayer-strength spasms. She growled at Giles who was lying at the foot of the bed and licking her feet, tickling them mercilessly, while holding down her ankles in his strong grip.
She managed to pant out between contractions, "You just wait…
Watcher mine…
when I'm…
through…
with…
this celibacy…
thing…
I am so…
going to…
kick your…
butt."
Her drawn out threat was greeted with amusement. "I can hardly wait, although there are *other* things you could do with my, er, butt; however, until then, luv, you'll just have to keep on laughing."
End (for now; more to come in second story of this Series)
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