Bad, Bad Thing Ch. 01byPenelopeLane©
A/N-Throughout the series there will be chapters set in high school. In these cases, the students are always at least 18 years old and consenting adults.
Buffy had been blatantly making eyes at Mr. William for at least a week. She unabashedly flirted with him before and after class, and wore the most revealing clothes she could get away with. She carefully styled her hair and applied her make-up each morning with the intent of attracting attention. She was playing a very grown-up game, but she felt confident that she knew all the rules.
The problem was that Mr. William was not taking any notice. He treated her the same as before, that is, just like everybody else. He didn't even have the good grace to blush, even slightly, when she fluttered her eyelashes prettily and thrust her breasts forward. He ignored her flirting and innuendo, as though he didn't even hear it. This frustrated and confused Buffy Summers to the point of anger.
If pressed, she wouldn't be able to answer what, exactly, she wanted her English teacher to do. Simply notice her? Flirt back? Try to kiss her? Something more? Well, her body definitely wanted something more. Just the thought of him made her flush with heat. She had her first sex dream ever about him, and when she woke up, she was nearly sick with lust and confusion.
Buffy put on a big act, and bragged about all her exploits to her friends, but she was actually quite inexperienced. Her first, and only, encounter with a boy had been on her 18th birthday, rough pawing in the back seat of his father's car that led to fumbling for zippers and a condom. Afterward, he didn't call her again, and she had a pretty dim view of sex and men. But that didn't decrease her natural desires, and Mr. William had been driving her to distraction since the beginning of the semester.
She couldn't put her finger on exactly what made him so attractive. It was more than just looks, though he was quite good looking. She didn't really notice him until the second week of the semester, when he took his glasses off and looked her directly in the eye. Those intense blue eyes were enough to make her melt, and without the glasses she got a good, unobstructed view of his face. To put it lightly, he was beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips, he didn't look like he should be a high school English teacher. She had asked him a question, and he unconsciously stuck the tip of his tongue out through his lips as he thought of the answer. She nearly gasped.
It was the day that she had decided to give up on him and go back to wearing her normal clothes that he asked her to stay after school to discuss her latest assignment. She felt a chill of excitement race down her back and land in the pit of her stomach. The thought of spending any time alone with him was always exhilarating, even if she was giving up on him.
The minutes until the final bell rang ticked by slowly and painfully. Logically, she knew it was silly to be so excited that she was literally squirming in her chair, but he had never asked her to stay after class before. Finally, the bell rang and the rest of the class scurried out. She, however, remained sitting sedately in her chair.
"Ms. Summers? Would you like to step into my office."
The office was a small room, almost a closet, just off the main classroom. It was crowded, but relatively neat, and he was able to fit in a couch a desk. There wasn't room for anything else though. He rarely invited students into the office, but when he did, it was usually for serious business. Serious "shape up or you'll fail" business. Buffy gulped, her excitement turning to dread.
He held the door open for her, and indicated that she should sit on the couch. As soon as she did, he shut the door and discretely locked it.
"So, Ms. Summers, is there anything you'd like to discuss?"
She frowned. "Um…no?"
"You haven't had any problems lately?" He leaned on the corner of the desk casually, his arms crossed, and she noticed that the thin material of his shirt hugged his muscles. That wasn't right. English teachers shouldn't have arms like that.
"Oh. I'm asking because it seems that you've been trying very hard to get my attention."
Buffy froze. Oh. Oh. Was he going to yell at her? Was he going to call her mother? She had no idea how to respond, and couldn't even if she wanted to. Instead she averted her eyes and remained silent.
"Well," he continued, "You have it. Now what are you going to do?"
Was he being serious? Would he let her run away? Because that's what she felt like doing. Or maybe the floor could open and swallow her. That would be acceptable too. Somehow, it never occurred to her that she would actually be called on her actions.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she finally choked out. Yay, actual words. That was a start. She knew her face was crimson. But even as she was dying with embarrassment, a part of her was reacting very strongly to the proximity of his body. She knew, knew, that if he so much as brushed against her arm, she would lose all shame and beg for him.
"I think you do…Buffy." The tone of his voice dropped on her name, and he said at like a caress. Her mouth was suddenly dry. How could he make her name sound so…erotic?
She shook her head in response.
"The short skirts, the tight blouses." He leaned over and brushed a stray hair off of her face. "The extra attention to every detail." He touched me! He touched me! He touched me! Her mind was on red alert. He could have said anything, it didn't matter, because he touched her. She had expected his finger to be soft, but it was surprisingly rough.
"I just wanted to look nice." Jesus, was that her voice? It didn't sound like her voice. It was far too breathy, like she had just ran a up a flight of stairs. She swallowed hard in an effort to wet her throat.
The question resonated through her body. It was so intimate, his voice carrying an air of intimacy, the words somehow dark. Could she have denied him? No, not when he talked like that, and trained his piercing blue eyes on her. When had he removed his glasses?
She nodded mutely.
"Why Buffy? Did you want me to do this?" He caressed her cheek with a single finger. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded in her ears. "This?" He followed the line of her jaw. Before she knew it, he was leaning over her. "This?"
The kiss was feather light and fleeting. He had barely made contact, but it burned. It burned all over her. Her body erupted in response, and it was all she could to keep from grabbing him and pulling him on top of her. Instead, she nodded again.
He backed away, and resumed his place against the desk. He looked calm and collected. She knew she must look a mess. Her face red, her eyes over bright, her chest moving quickly with each panting breath. It was obvious what effect he had on her, but he didn't seem in the least moved.
"You're playing with fire Ms. Summers. You can either walk out the door now, and we'll never mention it again. It'll never be an issue between us. Or…"
Oh, this is wrong, Buffy thought frantically. I should walk out right now. I should walk out and change English classes. I shouldn't have started this. He shouldn't have continued this. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Or?" She asked.
"Or you see it through to the end."
Was he bluffing? Should she call him on it? Either way, she wasn't moving like she should have been, and he was inching toward her. Before she knew it, he was sitting beside her and pulling her onto his lap. She didn't resist.
The first thing he did was kiss her, and she knew it was over. Any resistance, any doubts, and questions, they were gone. All she wanted to do was fill his warm, soft lips on hers. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she opened to him readily. The kiss had started tentatively, but soon had evolved into something passionate and even aggressive. He cupped one of her breasts, and she moved against him, arching her back. He rubbed her already hard nipple through the thin material of her baby-doll t-shirt, and she moaned in response. "Mr…" She stopped herself, horribly embarrassed and unsure.
Without missing a beat, he smiled against her lips. "Spike."
That's his first name? Oh my god, oh my god. What is he doing? Oh…god.
Spike's hand had slipped beneath her shirt and caressed her stomach lightly. His fingers moved in ever widening circles, until they were dancing over bra-and then under her bra. Chills raced up and down her sensitive flesh, and she kept gasping and moaning with every small move he made.
Buffy shifted on his lap and felt the hard proof of his excitement pressed against her leg. Somehow, that forced the reality of her situation home. She was sitting on her English teacher's lap as he rounded second base, and she just didn't care. Not even a little.
She squirmed against him and felt his cock jump in response. In a rather bold move, she reached between them and unzipped his fly. He groaned in response, and that gave her more courage. She pulled him through the whole in his boxers, until he was completely free.
Her eyes widened at the sight of his very large, hard cock. Would that even fit in her? Spike pulled the shirt over her head, and pushed her skirt up around her hips. She didn't protest when he hastily ripped her cotton panties away, didn't even notice or care.
She expected him to pull her on top of him immediately, but he wasn't in any hurry. He slowly slipped a finger between her lips, and caressed her clit with strong circular motions. Buffy hastily covered her mouth to escape the scream. God, that felt so good. Stars were bursting in front of her eyes as the first orgasm quickly overtook her. She was completely awed that he was able to make her cum so quickly. He barely needed to touch her, and bolts of electricity shot through her groin and warmed her body.
"Like that, baby?"
She nodded frantically and moaned in protest when he stopped.
"So wet for me, luv. Oh, yes," he gasped as he slid first one, and then a second finger into her aching cunt. The first thing he did was brush against her g-spot, and she thought she would explode.
The French call this the little death, she thought dazedly. She could easily die from this. He would just keep rubbing her like that until there was nothing left of her.
"Oh, Buffy, want to be inside of you now."
"Yes, yes, yes, please," she panted, quickly losing the ability to think coherently, much less speak.
"Put your leg there, baby…yeah like that."
Buffy straddled Spike, and he pulled her down slowly until she surrounded him. They both remained completely still, eyes wide and locked. Pain mingled with pleasure as he stretched and filled her completely. She had no idea, no idea at all. How could she have even been prepared for this? She didn't even notice anything was missing until he was deep inside of her, touching her very core, touching spots she didn't even know existed.
He began to rock her gently, and the friction was absolutely exquisite. He delicately fingered her clit as the tempo picked up, and Buffy lost her mind. All she could do was throw her head back and let wave after wave of pleasure rock her body. Words were lost to her. Everything was gone, except his dick and his finger.
Time became elastic. Stretched, slowed down, stopped. She knew they would be doing this forever. Buffy needed him to thrust into her, to never stop. Even as her world exploded in colors she didn't know existed, she greedily begged for more.
"Buffy, I'm going to cum." The shaky confession was enough to send her over the edge again, and that in turn sent him shuddering inside of her, panting and moaning her name until he was completely spent.
She collapsed on him, her head buried in his neck. She distantly noted that he smelled really, really good. He wrapped his arms around her, and she was taken with the sudden fear that he would kick her out. Make her leave, make her feel like a whore, ignore her and act like this had never happened. The thought scared her more than anything, and she knew that if he did that, she would lose all her pride.
She tensed, waiting for the damaging blow, but it never came. He held her and stroked her hair silently until she was completely relaxed, even sleepy.
"You should be getting home," he finally said softly.
Buffy nodded, but she didn't want to move.
"I'll give you a ride home," he offered. "Ok?"
Buffy finally forced herself to get up, and very carefully pulled her shirt back on and adjusted her skirt. He tucked himself back in and straightened his own clothes. She gathered her things and he ushered to his car. They rode in silence to Buffy's house, only speaking to ask or give directions.
Spike stopped in front of her house and they both sat in silence for several moments.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Buffy finally said.
She was already longing for his mouth on hers again, and fearing his rejection. He leaned towards her and gently kissed her cheek. He whispered in her ear, and she nodded and blushed.
When he pulled away from her house, they were both smiling.