TITLE: Futures I: A New Year (3/3) 
AUTHOR:  Blair
E-MAIL ADDRESS:  aggiemo@msn.com
SPOILER WARNING:  To third season, I suppose, up to Enemies.  As the title says, it's about the future.
RATING:  NC-17 - (Buffy/Giles)
DISCLAIMER:  Everything Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Warner Brothers.  I'm borrowing them for some illicit fun that they'll never have on the show, and then returning them with out a scratch, with their memories wiped clean.  Now, who could object to that?
SUMMARY:  Buffy and Giles, the year after graduation.  The Futures series will be a series of vignettes, set at various times, about the relationshp between Buffy and Giles post-Sunnydale High.  In Futures I, Buffy and Giles begin a new year, confronting both promise and pain.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOME AND APPRECIATED!


Futures I: A New Year (3/3)
by Blair


     Buffy stared down at him, conscious of the delicious feel of her silk-clad breasts against his chest, the hard lump of Wilhelmina quiescent between them, the mingling of their warm breaths as their gazes met.  "Deal...then SWAK," she told him, smiling slightly.

     "Hmmm?"

     "Sealed With a Kiss," she explained, leaning down to cover his mouth with her own.  He returned her kiss wholeheartedly, his tongue sweeping her mouth.  He tasted of toothpaste and the cool tang of mouthwash, mingled with the sweet taste of pure Giles. She shifted against his chest, drawing her legs up to grind her pelvis against his, and she felt the stirring of his erection. "Or more than a kiss," she added, stifling a giggle.

     "Are you up to it?" he asked concernedly.

     "I think it's more a matter of whether or not you are," she replied, grinning at him.

     He returned the smile, then shifted to the side to gently deposit her on the bedcovers.  "Oh, I can probably manage," he murmured as his nimble fingers worked the button of her pajama top.

     She returned the favor, and they both shrugged out of the smooth silk garments, tossing them to the floor.  They smiled at each other, then Giles' gaze caught on something over her shoulder.  "Ah, *there's* an idea," he murmured.  "Hand me the bottle, please, Buffy."

     She glanced over her shoulder and spied the bottle of baby oil.  "Sure," she smiled, reaching for it.  "Whyever do you need it?"

     His teeth gleamed in the shadowed room.  "You'll see."  He took the bottle from her, flipping the top open.  "Lie back."

     "Your wish is my command," she replied, reclining against the pillow.  She brought her arms up to fan her hair across the sheet, then rested the back of her head on them, grinning up at him in a combination invitation/taunt.

     He held the bottle above her chest, allowing the cool clear liquid to drip down, splashing against her ripe breasts and rolling down the valley between them and her swollen abdomen. She inhaled sharply.  "Cold," she said, in response to his questioning eyebrow.

     "Let me warm it up, then," he murmured, setting the bottle on his bedside table.  He reached out to trail his finger between her breasts, spreading the oil around so the skin could absorb it.  Her areolas puckered enticingly, and he pinched them between his fingers, first the left, then the right.

     Her breathing quickened under his ministrations, and she regarded him through half-lidded eyes, heavy with desire.  He smiled at her, flattening his palm and smoothing the oil downward, then upward as his hand met the home of his child.  He leaned forward to kiss the swollen lump.  "Hello, Wilhelmina Gertrude Hortense.  It's Daddy."

     Buffy giggled as his warm breath tickled her skin.  "I'm asleep, Daddy.  Are you going to wake me up."

     "Probably," he admitted, chuckling softly.  "I want you to listen to Daddy, Baby - now, what I'm about to do to your mother, you're not allowed to let any man do to you until you're at least thirty years old, all right?  And even then, I don't want to know about it.  So you just close your eyes and ignore us, okay?  And I'll try to get your Mum to keep the noise down, though she does like to yell a bit."

     Buffy reached down to cover his hand with her own, the heat warmed oil making their fingers slippery.  "Don't listen to him, Hortense honey.  He's the one who likes to shout, especially when I make him beg."

     "I don't beg," he disagreed as he swirled his fingers around her belly button.

     "We'll see," Buffy said, with a passable imitation of a Mona Lisa smile.

     He leaned over to give her a slow, drugging kiss, his hands working her breasts until she moaned into his throat.  "That's it, sweetheart."  He pulled away, and her moan turned into a groan of disappointment, which changed to a smile of anticipation as he crawled to the foot of the bed.

     Giles reached for the cuffs of her pajama bottoms, nodding approvingly when she arched her hips so they could slide off with ease.  He tossed them over the side of the bed to join their shirts, then hooked his arms under her knees, drawing her legs up over his shoulders.  He leaned down to kiss his child again, grimacing at the slightly bitter taste of the baby oil, then trailed his lips down her abdomen to the apex of curls between her legs.  A strangled gurgle emerged from Buffy's throat, and he looked up to catch her expression, stifling a laugh as he realized his child was directly in the way of his line of sight. "Are you all right up there?" he murmured through another laugh.

     "Get on with it," Buffy said, her tone a mixture of cross and breathless.

     He chuckled again, his breath whuffing against her curls, and he could feel the tremors running through her legs.  He kissed her wet center, then lapped at her with his tongue, swirling and delving inside in an uneven rhythm that made her thighs clamp more tightly against his ears.  He brought his hands up to caress and squeeze her buttocks, and another strangled moan erupted from her throat.  "Giles..."

     "You like that, do you?" Giles murmured between strokes. "How about this, then?"  He brought one hand up and inserted his index finger inside her.  She twisted against him and moaned louder, her hands gripping the sheets at her side.

     "*Oh* God..."

     He pumped her with his hand, adding another finger to her tight opening, sucking her clitoris with all his might, his cheeks hollowing out with the force of it.  He knew from experience that it took only a few minutes of this pleasurable torment to bring her to the brink.

     "Giles...*Giles*...oh, oh, *GILES*!"  She yelled his name, trailing off into incoherence as she bucked against him.  He held on through her powerful orgasm, his mouth still against her as she flooded him with juices.  He lapped it up, savoring the taste of his wife as she came.

     He'd removed his pajama bottoms and resumed his place beside her on the bed before she returned to coherence, turning her head to blink at him and offering him a drunken smile.  "God, Giles, that was..."

     "Yelling," he replied, smiling at her with arrogant satisfaction.  "Definitely yelling."

     She tried to scowl at him but was too deliciously sated to pull it off.  "Oh, you're going to pay for that one, British guy. This all-American girl is going to whip your naked butt."

     "Is that a promise?"

     She grinned at him as she struggled up onto her elbow, reaching across him for the bottle of baby oil, allowing her full breasts to rub incitingly against his chest.  "You are *so* gonna beg me, buddy."

     "We'll see."

     She poured a generous amount of the liquid onto his chest, swirling it among the crisp curl of hairs across his pectorals. His muscles bunched beneath her delicate touch, and his breathing quickened, the erection that had fallen to half mast springing upward again.  She smiled at it, then him, before awkwardly maneuvering her leg over his chest to sit on his abdomen.  She could feel the hard line of his erection against her back, and she wiggled her hips until he moaned.

     She leaned forward to kiss him, allowing her breasts to rub the oil into his chest as she ground her body against his.  The maneuver was less than graceful, as Wilhelmina's presence precluded the most sensuous moves, but Buffy knew her Watcher's body very well, and her practiced hands and lips worked their magic deftly.

     Deciding she'd tormented him enough, she braced her hands against his upper arms and scooted down his body, and this time his moan was almost a shout as she moved past his straining penis.  She ended up sitting on his knees as her oil slick hands worked their way down his abdomen to the mound of wiry hair below.  She grasped his balls in her left hand, rolling them through the slick oil with ease, before bending down to lick the underside.  The acrid taste of the oil made her jerk back.

     "Tastes terrible, doesn't it?" Giles managed through gasping breaths.

     "Mmm-hmm," Buffy agreed, massaging them with her hand again, "but they make flavored kinds of oils for this sort of thing."

     "And j-just how would you know that?"  Another moan.

     She rolled her eyes.  "Cordy told me, I think.  Though I haven't the foggiest idea why.  I'll call her and ask her where to get it."

     "Right this moment?"  He shifted on the bed, his hands fisting in the sheets.  "Are you conceding, then?"

     "Not on your life.  After all," she added, grinning wickedly, "the oil isn't *everywhere*..."  To demonstrate, she leaned down and took him into her mouth.

     "Oh, my..."

     Buffy swirled her tongue around the swollen tip, then trailed it along both sides, nipping lightly with her teeth as she proceeded.  Giles' expostulations became increasingly incoherent as she continued her ministrations.  She wiped her hands on the sheets, then grasped the base with one hand, stroking even as she worked him with her mouth

     She could feel the building tension inside him and she began to suck harder, determined to bring him off as intensely as he had her.

     "Buffy, oh, God, Buffy..."

     She paused to take a breath, her hands still working him deftly.  "Is that begging, Giles?"
    
     "Mmmph."  She could see the conflict in his eyes, pride warring with frustration as he gripped the sheets to his sides even harder.  "I want to be inside you," he finally admitted. "Now."

     "But I wanted to-" she gestured to him, indicated her desire to reciprocate what he'd given her.

     He half/groaned, half/laughed.  "Buffy, eventually Wilhelmina's going to get so big that that might be the *only* way we can be together.  So, while we can, I want to be inside you."

     She stared at him, sudden tears of happiness filling her eyes.

     He groaned again.  "Do you want me to beg?"

     She shook her head, blinking back the tears.  "No, no, it's all right."  She leaned forward, reaching for his hands to brace herself against.  "Because I *am* going to make you yell, so we'll be even."  She levered her bulky body above him, resting against the tip of his shaft.

     "I'm looking forward to-AH! Oh, *BUFFY*!" he cried as she impaled herself on him and took up a fast, driving rhythm.  She pressed against him, using all her internal muscles to drive him mad with wanting, and the result was evident from the yells he could do nothing to stifle.  Her name, over and over.  She allowed herself a satisfied smile before abandoning all thoughts of bets and triumph in favor of simply feeling.

     Their voices rang out in harmony, mingling each other's names with moans of desire and the delicious slap of oil-covered skin to oil-covered skin.  No more than a minute passed before they were both on the brink of oblivion, and their eyes opened at almost precisely the same time, sharing a soul-deep gaze of complete and utter love before their orgasms blew coherent thought away.

     Long minutes later, Buffy rolled from his chest with a muffled sigh, not wanting to leave him so quickly, but worried about squashing her daughter.  "Did you enjoy that, sweetie?" she whispered, rubbing her hand across her abdomen.  "Mommy did."

     "Daddy, too," Giles murmured, smiling without opening his eyes. 
    
     Buffy snuggled against his side and kissed his chest.  "Love you, Mr. Giles."

     "Love you, Mrs. Giles."

END