PART THREE: 20th January 2004
Chapter One: Wake Up Call
Moaning, she arched her back, rubbing herself against the other woman wherever they touched - which felt like everywhere - but it wasn't enough.
She was panting now, desperate for more than this intimate naked cuddle - which was driving her insane with lust - but she was unable to ask for it. The words: "Please just fuck me!" died on her lips every time she tried to say them.
Skin on burning skin lit an unquenchable fire that no amount of rocking and writhing and whimpering was dampening. God help her if she didn't come soon she would combust from the sensation or drown them both in the wetness seeping from between her spread legs.
Enough was enough; she wasn't beyond begging when the need was this strong. Finally finding her voice after hours of mute torture, she moaned long and loud:
"The skies this morning are blue and should be staying that way for the rest of the ..."
Buffy jerked awake. "...aaith! Ugh..."
...God not again. She slapped a hand on her clock radio and listened intently for any sound of Slayer feet running to her room. She couldn't hear any which meant either everyone was already awake and downstairs, or she hadn't been quite so loud this morning. Or Faith thought there was another spider in her room and was to chicken to come and get it for her. Not that there had been any spider in Buffy's room last week, but she'd needed an excuse fast for screaming the other Slayer's name out.
As it turned out it had been the worse excuse she could use, because Faith had just turned tail and run the other way. It had been two days before she could be persuaded to walk past Buffy's bedroom door again.
So no running footsteps meant she'd gotten away with her bad, naughty dreams this morning, which was of the good, but it didn't do anything about the ache between her legs.
Sighing, Buffy rolled to the side and pulled out the drawer in her bedside cabinet. Inside was her present from Faith in all its silicone-y glory. She ran one shaky fingertip down its length, trying to decide if today was the day.
Slamming the drawer shut in frustration, she knew it wasn't. Obviously Faith had meant for it to be used, but using it while fantasising about her wasn't...well it wasn't a best friend thing to do.
Buffy rolled onto her back once more, pulled the covers up over her head for more privacy and let her hand slide into her pyjama pants. Better to take care of it now than get into trouble at work for day-dreaming again.
She bent her legs at the knees and let them open wide as she pushed her middle finger straight into her pussy, fuck, these dreams made her wetter than a glass of water in Atlantis. Pulling it back out, she thrust back in with two fingers and ground her palm into her clit. She started quick, knowing she didn't have time to do anything else.
She could feel the pressure rising almost at once and she bit her duvet to keep her grunts and pants to a minimum. The bed began to rock just slightly as she gave herself everything she had.
Nearing the point of the blinding non-light and rushing non-noise, she nearly rocked herself right off the bed at the sudden pounding on her bedroom door.
Panicked, embarrassed and ready to bust heads, Buffy stopped dead. If she stayed quiet would they just assume she was still asleep and go away?
"Buffy? You awake?" As Xander called out to her, she knew her hope was futile, but at least it meant she hadn't been caught wet-handed.
She popped her head back up and wiped her sweaty face on the duvet. "What is it Xand?"
"You have to come downstairs. Faith and Kennedy are fighting and you're the only one who isn't going to get killed trying to split them up."
Buffy angrily threw back her covers and straightened up her pyjamas. She used a tissue from her dresser to wipe her sticky hands and threw it in the bin before leaving her bedroom. She was only too aware of how wet she still was down there, but it wasn't like she could take a shower while those two were at it again. She wondered if Faith would be able to pick up on how aroused she was.
Shrugging this worry off, she pushed past a goofily grinning Xander - that gave her a moment of fear, why was he grinning, did he know exactly what she'd been doing? - and stomped down the stairs.
"Will you two pack it in?" She shouted before she was half way down. "Giles can't afford to have the house repaired every time you two disagree on what cereal to buy!"
She was greeted by her friends and family crowded around the kitchen table, beaming, at her. Faith and Kennedy weren't fighting, but they were taking deep breaths. As was everyone else. A cold realisation washed over her as she saw the lone candle stuck in the stack of pancakes.
And then the singing started!
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