Warning: May Be Habit Forming

Author: Lori Bush <lwbush[at]charter.net>

The Cure Series, #2

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, etc. owns Buffy. You know the routine.

Summary: Buffy's hooked, and it ain't on phonics.

Pairing: B/X erotica and angst

Rating: NC-17

Author's notes: The misunderstanding deepens, but the fun never ends. This story is just now coming out as the third in the series is almost finished. It owes a debt to Shawn (Ozmandayus), who has used a similar concept in a different way, and a J/G writer named Xebbie, who wrote a series called "Pillow Talk" that sort of inspired this.

"Take," Buffy thrust hard, "that!" She panted, her needs satisfied, at least for the moment. She brushed off her hands, pleased. "That'll teach you to screw with me," the Slayer informed him.

Her only answer was a flurry of dust in the wind.

She'd been slaying with more fervor than usual for the past week or two. The Undead were the most suitable target for her frustrations, especially since the living and very unsuitable reason for said frustrations couldn't be as easily removed from her mind.

Alexander LaVelle Harris.

It had been a perfectly reasonable plan, on paper. She'd been feeling a bit sexually unfulfilled, he was male and unattached, they were close already, why couldn't they just have sex and get off and be done with it?

That's the problem with well-thought-out plans when they go into practice - you can't always anticipate the unexpected variables.

She certainly hadn't been disappointed by Xander's performance in bed. In fact, that was unexpected variable number one - he was incredible in the sack. She'd been sort of expecting, well, not exactly, "wham, bam, thank you ma'am," but certainly not the winning combination of size, skill and endurance she'd uncovered, either.

The second unexpected variable had been her own behavior since that weekend. They'd had sex at least four times while Dawn was gone for little over two days. Should have been enough to sate her and tide her over for a while, right? But since then, every time she got into her bed, painfully alone, she could feel his hands on her; smell his masculine scent; almost hear him grunting her name; see the blissful expression on his face as he came. Her vibrator, which he'd been supposed to reduce the need for or even replace, had become instead even more central to her life than it had been before. And there'd been nothing she could do about it.

Variable three had been Xander's reaction. He seemed to have enjoyed that weekend, but since that Sunday Dawn returned from her friend's, he'd been actively avoiding being alone with Buffy at any time. She also did the laundry at the house, and he'd been sneaking by her and doing small loads on his own recently. Besides, her room shared a wall with his, and he sometimes, late at night, made some suspicious noises over there that she happened to overhear (happened to have her ear to the wall, too, but still.). Both of those facts indicated to her that Xander had been, well, self-treating any lingering conditions remaining after their coupling the same way she had.

In less Giles-ian words, she knew he was jacking off in his room, and she was pretty sure that meant he was recalling their time together. So why did he seem hell-bent on avoiding the chance they could even talk about what had happened, or about doing it again?

"Damn it, Xander!" she muttered.

"What'd he do this time?" a cheery voice asked from behind her, "Leave his dirty socks in the living room?" Ooops, she'd forgotten she was patrolling with Willow tonight.

Buffy covered as best she could. "Something like that. I just remembered he was supposed to stop and get milk on his way home tonight, and when he came in, he wasn't carrying a grocery sack. Now I'll have to go to that tacky all-night store and pay twice as much for it."

Willow giggled. "You sound like you two are married. Splitting the chores, forgetting stuff at the grocery - everything but the sex." When Buffy's choking fit finally subsided, Willow raised an eyebrow at her. "The idea of sex with Xander upsets you that much?"

Buffy didn't like lying repeatedly, so she settled for avoidance of the question. "The idea of sex with Xander," she parroted in a shocked tone. "Wills!"

The witch grinned. "I may be gay now, but as far as I know, you aren't. And I happen to know firsthand he's a fabulous kisser. Anya certainly wasn't shy about letting the world know he was more than adequate otherwise, too. You are living together for goodness sake." Her face grew more serious. "You could do worse than a relationship with Xander, Buffy. He's always cared so much for you, and he'd treat you right."

I so don't need to be having this conversation right now. Buffy carefully considered how she should respond to that loaded statement, but Willow was going on anyway.

"I was just joking, you know. I know how you feel about Xander."

*I'm glad you do - wanna clue me in?*

"You'd have never let him move in if you thought he'd try anything with you."

Well, it was true he hadn't tried anything with her. It'd been all her idea. And as for the "tried" part - well, he'd quite succeeded. She just needed to talk to him, let him know they were still friends, and if it bothered him to have sex with her, they didn't have to do it again. *Oh, please don't let that be the case,* she pleaded with some unknown deity. Suddenly she was very tired. "Wills? I'm gonna go home and go to bed. I think we've made a big enough dent in the undead population for the night."

"Don't forget the milk."

*Huh?* "Oh. yeah."


Willow was glad she and Buffy had finally re-established their friendship to the point they were patrolling together again. The witch had been surprised at the announcement about Xander moving into the Summers' house. When she had brought it up to her lover, Tara had pointed out how little support Buffy really had these days, both financially and emotionally. Gently, the blonde witch had chastised her girlfriend for her absorption into dangerous majikal skills to the point she'd almost felt abandoned herself. After a tearful confrontation and a horrified realization and apology, Willow had shown her lover how much she really meant to her. Then she'd gone to Buffy, to apologize in a quite different fashion.

Willow was happy that Buffy had Xander there to help her now, too. Raising a teenager was a tough enough job for a single woman, but for one that was barely more than a teenager herself, it was sure to be overwhelming. Xander, while hardly the ideal father figure, certainly couldn't love Dawn any more if he'd been her real father. And he was willing to mow the lawn, do repairs, generally help Buffy out with the house, and certainly those were skills the Slayer lacked. Then there was his financial aid - Buffy was working, but she wasn't making a lot of money, and he was surely helping to take the pressure off.

But for the last couple of weeks, Buffy had been distant and distracted a lot, and Willow had noticed Xander had been fairly skittish around her, too. She couldn't help but wonder if the big oaf had been stupid enough to fall for the Slayer again, and even worse, to mention it to her. Their living arrangement was such a great idea for both of them; she hoped he hadn't blown it with a thoughtless word or two.

A strand of red hair dropped across her forehead, and she blew it forcefully back into place, the puff sounding suspiciously like a sigh. She'd probably have to talk to her childhood friend. Sometimes it was like she was still dealing with a small child.


Buffy hated children. She glared at the sleeping form of the one that had provoked this particular reaction.

Well, not really. She liked kids, in the abstract, at least. She hadn't dealt with all that many, in person. But she was thinking of creative ways to kill the one who lived under her roof right now.

She had come home from patrolling to the ideal situation - Dawn was asleep and Xander was in the living room, watching some mindless skin flick on Cinemax. Really, Xander was half-asleep himself. Finally Buffy would have a chance to confront him about the way he'd been acting, and he had no excuses handy to avoid her. And it had gone fairly well at first.

Xander had been too dazed when she'd approached him to bolt, which allowed her to make a few points before he'd even been up to answering. She called him on his duck-and-run tactics of late, and asked him why he hadn't been willing to patrol with her recently. Finally, after quite long enough he should have had some kind of answer, if only a smart comeback, she got frustrated with his silence, and she tearfully asked, "Was sex with me so bad that I scared you off?"

She looked up, and saw his gentle expression, his chocolate brown eyes soft and sweet. "I'm sorry, Buff," he mumbled softly into her hair as he pulled her into his embrace. "I was just a little confused, and."

She cut him off, forcefully covering his lips with hers and kissing him passionately. This was where she belonged, nothing else made sense. She opened her lips slightly and teased his with her tongue, wanting more. He granted her access. After only kissing him a few times that one weekend, she was shocked at how much she'd missed it since. Raking her fingers through his hair as her heart rate picked up, she could picture his lean but muscular body, poised over hers.

A noise from the stairs stopped her heart entirely, and she was on her feet and at the foot of the staircase before it began to beat again. "Dawn?" The Slayer nervously straightened her clothing.

"Hey, Buff. I was doing my homework, and dozed off at my desk. When I woke up, I thought I heard you down here. Just came down to say goodnight." She bounced down the last few steps, her clear smile and innocent demeanor indicating she had no idea what she'd just interrupted. "Oh, Xander. I didn't know you were down here too."

He was rubbing his face, and Buffy was amused when she noticed he'd put a throw pillow in his lap. "Hey, Dawn. I fell asleep on the couch watching TV myself - we're quite the pair, huh?" The teenager strode over and ruffled his already messy hair. "Well, I'll let you go on it this time, since it is after two in the morning." He glanced at his watch, genuine surprise on his face.

"It is, isn't it? I'd better be getting to bed, too." He stretched his legs and stood, Buffy assuming the pillow had done its job of camouflaging the damning evidence of his reaction to their kiss long enough for him to get over it. "G'nite, Dawny." He threw an arm around her and gave her a little half hug. To the elder sister, he just nodded. "Buffy." As he trudged up the stairs, he threw back over his shoulder, "See you both in the morning."

"He is so cute when he's sleepily incoherent like that." Dawn watched his butt all the way up the stairs before she turned and spoke, smirking.

You can look but you'd better not touch, Buffy thought defensively. "It's late," she said aloud, slightly more sharply than she'd intended. "You have school in the morning. Get to bed."

"Geez. Touchy. I was just on my way. 'Nite." Dawn stomped upstairs to her room.

*No, no touch-y. That's the problem.* Buffy plopped down on the sofa, unconsciously snuggling into the last of Xander's warmth on the cushions. She tried watching the end of the movie he'd had on, but it did little to alleviate her discomfort. In fact, it had aggravated it. Finally, she flicked it off, went into the kitchen for a glass of water, then went upstairs, checking in Dawn's room to see her in bed, fast asleep.

Damn her - sleeping so innocently, not aware of how she'd taken away the opportunity for something her sister had so wanted tonight.

Closing the door softly, Buffy headed back to her room, the one that had once been her mother's. Outside Xander's door, she paused, seriously considering going inside and picking up where they'd left off on the couch. But no - it was late, and he had to work in the morning. She sighed as she closed her bedroom door and locked it behind her. She'd buy more new batteries in the morning.


Xander held his breath until Buffy's footsteps continued from their pause outside his door and moved on down the hall. His erection, which he'd been idly playing with while trying to decide whether he was going to indulge tonight or not, faded the minute he'd heard her stop. Ironic, because if she'd come in, he was sure it would have returned right away. If she'd come in, it would have been for sex.

And he couldn't say no to her. He'd proved that downstairs, when he'd been about ready to tear off her clothes and take her on the couch in the middle of the living room. With Dawn, it turned out, awake and upstairs. He was the Slayer's hopeless sex slave, and he wasn't proud of it. If she'd come in his room, wanting to finish what they'd started, he'd have been more than happy to oblige her, and he'd have never asked if Dawn was even asleep yet. He needed Buffy Summers like a drug, and there was no cure for this addiction. And every time he saw her, all he could think about was getting another dose. Which, he hadn't had the guts to admit tonight, was the reason he was trying to avoid seeing her any more often than he had to.

Then she'd kissed him. His cock had sprung immediately to attention, and his hands were inching towards her breasts when she'd hopped up like a fire had been lit under her. As soon as he realized her little sister had nearly caught them in the act, he'd grabbed a throw pillow and worked at modulating his breathing. He got away with it this time. But for how much longer?

He brushed his hand across his limp dick. Not tonight. Somehow, pleasure seemed inappropriate at this time.



He'd just clocked out, and was going to run by the grocery store to pick up some ground beef for dinner. Buffy had a lot of wonderful skills, but cooking wasn't among them, and Dawn had made dinner last night, so Xander felt it was his turn. Another one of those unspoken agreements. He seemed mired in them. "Willow? Hey!"

"Hey." The witch was subdued, still working on the most delicate way to broach the subject. "How's things?"

*Well, Buffy made me her willing sex toy, I'm head over heels in love with her, I can't stop obsessing over her body, and now I'm afraid to be in the same room with her for fear I'll throw her down on the floor and fuck her no matter who else is around. How're things with you?* "Fine. You?"

"Good. It's nice to be patrolling and all with Buffy again. I wish she could come back to college, but I know she has other responsibilities now. How're you two working out as roommates?"

*You really don't want an honest answer to that, Wills.* "Okay. You come out of your way to my work just to talk about Buffy?"

"Uh, actually, yeah."

*Shit.* "O - kay."

"She's seemed a bit - disturbed lately. I wondered if anything had happened at home." Willow's tone was consciously casual, and she hadn't changed so much over the years that Xander didn't recognize that.

*She knows. How could she know? Maybe I should just shut up, and find out just what she does know.* He shrugged expressively. "To upset her? Dunno. Maybe Dawn."

"Xaan-der." *Oh-oh, she's using the "talking to a five-year-old" voice.* "I just want to make sure you haven't done anything to make Buffy uncomfortable or something."

*She's fishing. She doesn't know.* "Well, I haven't left the toilet seat up or farted in the living room after dinner, if that's what you mean." He should have known it was too soon to relax, but he was calming anyway before she dropped the bombshell.

"You didn't, like, say you loved her or anything, did you?" Willow was watching his face for signs of guilt, which she didn't see, not abject horror, which she did. Rushing in to close the gaping wound she felt she'd left for some reason she couldn't fathom, she went on. "I mean, it isn't like you loving someone, or especially Buffy, would normally be a bad thing, but she's been through so much lately, I just don't know if she could cope with that, but you wouldn't do that, anyway, you haven't felt like that about her in a long time, and you just live there, you aren't living together, I mean, not that way, and of course, you do love her, and she loves you, but not like."

"You can stop Wills - I accept your apology." He'd had a chance to recover during the witch's marathon babble, and he was able to act cool now.

"I really am sorry, Xand. I just know how you've always felt about her, and I was afraid living in the same house and all."

"Don't worry, Wills. I'd never say anything so horrible to Buffy." Somehow, he felt his sarcasm wasn't quite up to par.

"No! I just mean, she's just kind of confused and fragile lately, and if you said something like that, she might not be able to handle it. For heaven's sake, Xan, her mother died, her sister was a pawn in a god's game, and then she was dead. She shouldn't be expected to gracefully deal with more emotional stuff right now."

He knew she was right; he just didn't want to admit it. But he'd already pledged not to screw up whatever it was they had by telling Buffy his true feelings, so this simply reinforced his resolve. "S'okay, Wills. I'm happy with things the way they are, and I don't intend to go back to my angst-filled teenaged days." *I've reached a whole new level of angst recently. And happy is a mild exaggeration. I'm at the same time thrilled senseless and terrifically ashamed of myself. But there's no way I'm telling you any of that.*

"I love you Xander. I know I haven't always been there for you and Buffy, especially recently. But I want to be close again, like we used to be."

"Things can never be the way they used to be, Wills." The redhead never would, Xander assumed, know the whole truth of that statement, but she agreed nonetheless. "I've gotta go. Can I give you a ride anyplace?"

"Nope. It's a nice afternoon - I'll just walk. Bye."

He watched her head down the sidewalk, noticed the admiring glances she drew from some of his co-workers - his once mousy childhood friend, now a beautiful lesbian SuperWitch. He'd taken his other closest relationship and, by adding an element never meant to be part of friendship, turned it into something he couldn't define. Nope - things could never be the way they used to be.


"Xander, dinner was wonderful." Dawn wiped her mouth and hopped up from the table.

"Well, it's hard to screw up delivered pizza," he admitted. After the little session with Willow, he just didn't feel like cooking. Besides, it was Friday night, traditionally pizza night at the Harris household. Monday had been Chinese, Tuesday, McDonald's, Wednesday, KFC, Thursday alternated between frozen TV dinners and Jack-In-The Box, and Friday was always pizza. His family had been poor partially because they kept the local carryout establishments wealthy, but Xander had developed a healthy respect for keeping a schedule and knowing what to expect with one. It was, on the other hand, one of the reasons Xander was so determined to have frequent home cooked meals now that he was living with Dawn and Buffy. Tonight, though, he just couldn't hack it.

"It's nice to have something really easy once in a while." Buffy smiled, too. Easy had never been a part of any of their lives, so it was a luxury to them all.

She was hoping it wouldn't be too difficult to talk to Xander tonight. She was relieved that Dawn had decided to spend the weekend with Willow and Tara. They'd planned a hiking trip to a National Park nearby, and had invited all three of them, although only Dawn was really interested in going. Buffy was doubly glad she'd declined the invitation when she saw the mood Xander had come home from work sporting. He seemed burdened, terrifically depressed by something, and as his friend she owed it to him to let him unload on her. Of course, in the back corners of her mind, she couldn't help hope that afterwards, he'd unload in her. She'd just gotten through her period, and was always a bit hormonally charged once it was over. She needed him tonight, if he was willing. But first, the 'friend listening' thing.

Dawn was inventorying her pack for the fourth time, making sure she had everything she thought she needed, when Buffy heard the high-pitched toot from the horn of what Xander called "Willow's wind-up toy" outside. She helped her sister carry her pack and sleeping bag out and stow them in the trunk of the VW. After making sure that Willow knew her home, cell phone and beeper numbers (all of which she'd known for years, the witch thought as she rolled her eyes), and to call if there was any problem, she let the trio go, turning to see Xander on the porch, waving as the car pulled away.

She smiled as she joined him on the porch. "Our little girl is all grown up, isn't she?" she asked jokingly. Buffy looped her arm in Xander's. "Looks like it's just you and me tonight, cowboy. You gonna tell me what's giving you the blues?"

For a moment, all was right with his world. That joke about Dawn as their little girl, Buffy's arm through his - components of some of his more romantic, less erotic dreams. He and Buffy, their own house, their own kids, together forever.

But this was the Hellmouth, and so his dream, or at least some of the erotic ones, had come nearly true, but with a particularly Hellmouth-ian twist. Buffy didn't love him, and he wasn't allowed to love her. He sighed.

"See?" she prodded, leading him inside to the living room and sitting him down on the couch. "Unhappy sigh. What's the what, Xan?"

He couldn't tell her the whole truth - that would simply exacerbate the problem. But partial truth wasn't lying, right? "Willow came by the site to see me this afternoon, and she wanted to talk about you."

"Me?" He could see Buffy's hackles rising already in defense.

"She was worried about you - said you've been acting kind of weird. She thought it might be something I'd done to upset you. And I kind of agree. You've been a little tense lately. What we did - does it bother you? Is it me?"

Buffy frowned at him. "We had the start of this conversation the other night, before I jumped you," she smirked a bit sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I am a little tense around you right now. But Wills had no right to accuse you of doing something wrong - she always jumps to conclusions without all the facts when it comes to either of us! Darn her."

"So I do make you tense," he offered, sinking a little deeper into his depression.

And Buffy saw what he was doing. She smiled warmly. "You make me a lot of things, Xan. Ever since we were together, you've made me horny, and dizzy, and hot, and all that does make any girl a little tense." Warmth had segued into heat, and her expression was quite seductive by the end. "What you did to me, nobody else has ever done. It tends to throw a woman's focus off, when she can't stop thinking about that kind of physical pleasure." Buffy began to run her had in light circles over his chest. "Maybe once we've done it more than a few times I'll be able to think about something else in between times, but I can't say for sure."

His mood was lifting rapidly, along with the front of his jeans. "I - it was that good for you? I mean, it was for me, but."

"Xander," she said jokingly, pressing closer to him as she spoke, "You may have ruined me for any other man. I can't believe there are that many out there as good as you are." She kissed him briefly but warmly on his lips.

"Mmmm," he purred against her lips as she pulled away. "I did have good training. But you know, practice makes perfect." He drew her close, his depression forgotten, kissing her again, this time with even more passion. While their tongues dueled, he pulled her onto his lap, moaning softly as she rubbed against his erection.

"I want you so much," Buffy whispered when their lips parted.

"You have me," he answered sincerely. "Name the place."

The hunger in her eyes was answer enough, but she spoke anyway. "Here would be good." She began working at his waistband, trying to untuck his shirt at the same time as she unfastened his pants, cursing the fact she only had two hands.

"Whoa," he laughed, "I thought I was the only one of the two of us who was ready at the drop of a," he stopped as she pulled off his t-shirt, getting it caught on his ear in her haste. "Ow!" She gently pulled the shirt loose and tossed it aside. ".shirt."

"I've been ready almost since the last time ended, Xan." Her hands ran across his bare chest, tweaking his nipples as she bent for another kiss. As he worked at her blouse buttons, she planted tiny wet kisses on his ear, down his jaw and neck, finishing by lapping at his collarbone as he pulled her blouse off triumphantly. She helped a little with the sleeves, but he unhooked and removed her bra quickly all by himself.

"Hi," he said brightly to her right breast, which was pretty much in his face when he finished. Peering over it to the left, he said, "And you too!" Buffy giggled and turned, straddling him so he had equal access to both sides. Taking the unspoken invitation, he took one nipple into his mouth, feeling it harden as he licked and nipped at it. His fingers teased the other as well, while his free hand rested on the small of her back.

"Feels. So. Good," she moaned slowly, humping her throbbing sex against his denim-covered cock with each word. And for a few minutes, he sucked and she rocked and their passion kept rising. He'd managed to unbutton her jeans, and had slid his hand into the back waistband, fingers brushing the top curve of her ass. She'd been working at his zipper as well, getting it a fair amount of the way down. Finally she pulled away. "Pants," she breathed, standing.

As she slid her jeans to her feet and watched Xander squirm out of his, she came to the conclusion that every man should wear boxers. Tented high by a hard cock, they looked so much sexier than white briefs, any day. Not that she'd let him keep them on for long, though.

Her underwear had an admirer, as well. "Nice thong there, Buff." Xander stood, kicking off his jeans from where they'd landed around his ankles. She'd known Dawn was leaving tonight, and decided it was exactly the type of special occasion she'd bought this little black silk nothing for. Although she found the tiny strip up her rear a bit uncomfortable, seeing his reaction made any minor discomfort all worth it. She turned, displaying the almost nonexistent backside of her panties for his approval. "Oh, yeah," he said softly, moving forward to take two big handfuls of her exposed flesh. "Real nice." He kneaded her buns for a few minutes, then moved forward, pressing his erection into her ass for a moment as he slid his hands inside the front of the panties and eased them off her. "Perfect," he said, almost to himself.

She turned, consciously displaying her naked body to him for a moment before she knelt in front of him and pulled his boxers off. Her mouth was at the tip of his cock, and she considered just opening up and taking it in, but he was so much larger than Riley had been, she was a bit intimidated. Maybe later. Instead she planted a rather chaste kiss on the tip, eliciting a gasp, and stood up. "Lay down." She shoved him playfully, and he plopped down onto the couch, swiftly lifting his legs and stretching out on it. "This time," Buffy announced, admiring the view, "I get to drive."

"Vroom," he joked, and then she was sprawled out over his body, and he was being fiercely kissed again. Her knee was awkwardly placed, and he pulled his mouth away, trying to move her slightly. "Hey, if you plan to drive," he complained, "don't damage the stick shift." She snorted, but moved her legs so that one rested on each side of his hips. His hard shaft was directly beneath her clit that way, and she couldn't help but rub up and down on it, causing all the blood in her body to boil. She bit her bottom lip.

"I can't wait this long every time," she said, a bit breathless. "We need to work out a system, so we're not at Dawn's mercy."

She was still sliding along his length, and he had to remind her, "Buffy, right now I'm at your mercy."

"Sorry." She grinned evilly.

"No, you aren't. Not in the slightest."

"You're right." She stopped her movement, spending some time laving his nipples and kissing and nipping at his chest. She traced his pectoral muscles, once more awed at the powerful man who'd grown from her skinny high school friend. The hands that roamed her back and ass were large and strong, and she realized, had he not been her friend first, she'd have noticed Xander Harris in a crowd, these days. He moaned in pleasure, and she felt she had to taste that mouth of his one more time. As she finished the kiss, she reached for his cock, and positioning him properly, slid down on top of him.

They both sighed, almost but not quite a moan. She felt filled, and it was more than the space between her legs that had been empty without him. There was something so fundamentally right about the way they fit together. She shuddered a little, his length going deeper inside with her on top, and then she began to - the best word Xander could think of later, when remembering that moment, was 'writhe.' She was moving, but not rising and falling, as would be expected. It seemed as if she wanted to allow every part of her insides to have the pleasure of being caressed by Xander's hard cock, and so she was moving them over it and around it. She bent forward, her hands on either side of his head, and kissed him quickly, her upper body as motionless as her hips were active. "You feel so good inside me," she murmured blissfully.

"I do. I feel wonderful," he replied, not sure if she'd been speaking for him, or even asking him - he suspected she'd meant her statement from her own perspective. And then he moved his own hips, to sort of mimic her motion.

She threw her head back. "Ooooh, God," she cried. "I like that." And so he bucked gently beneath her, slowly rocking her along with the motion of his hips.

Buffy just relaxed her body, letting it go with Xander's lead. Her head lolled as the pleasure robbed her of strength, removed any thought of anything but the spot where they were together, every movement a new sensual delight.

Something about watching Buffy atop him felt familiar to Xander, and suddenly it came to him. He'd watched "Urban Cowboy" on late-night cable last week, and she was moving just like Debra Winger did on the mechanical bull in the movie. And like the ride in the movie, this one was incredibly sexy. He bucked his hips again, and she rolled and hissed in response.

They were barely separating and rejoining, and while this was as hot as all hell, he thought they might both need slightly more movement to reach a satisfactory climax. As if in response to his thought, her walls tightened around him as she clenched them in excitement, and it drove him to voice his need.

Grabbing her hips to stop her undulating, he said hoarsely, "Buffy, gotta fuck now." She seemed to be in a trance, but when he slid her hips up and then pistoned up into her, she came awake, moaning his name.

"Oh, yes, Xander, so good."

While the sexy ride might not have been enough to finish him, he was more than well started, and he didn't want to come before Buffy. She'd taken over the work, sliding up and down his hard shaft enthusiastically, and he wasn't sure he could hold on much longer. He stuck a finger out at the base of his cock, and on her next down thrust she landed on it, clit first. The sound she yelped out was more animal than human, but he took it to mean he'd done a good thing.

Buffy had been almost hypnotized by the feeling of rocking on Xander's cock, just letting him fill her so full she could hardly breathe. This was beyond anything she could imagine, and it just felt so good. When he lifted her and thrust up into her, she'd have been mad at him for interrupting, but a new, equally good or maybe even better sensation took her far away from anything resembling anger.

She always thought that being on top meant you were in control, but she'd been far from anything resembling in control ever since she'd slid onto him and lost all coherent thought. Her clitoris felt magnetic, like every sensation from anywhere on her body was being pulled to it and amplified through it, and when he stuck his finger out and she landed on top of it, she just about lost it then and there. "Com., coming, I'm." She came down again on the handy digit, and the rest of her sentence, if it had ever gotten far enough to be considered one, was lost in deep pants which rose to high vowel sounds as she was overcome by the waves of pleasure her body was drowning in.

Thank God, Xander thought as he felt his balls draw up, and then he could think no more. Both hands now had bruising hold of her hips and he was sure he was shooting so much into her that his semen had recruited his saliva and blood to join the team. When it finally stopped, he let go of her hips and she fell like a rag doll onto his chest. "Wow," she panted.

He cleared his throat to make sure he could still produce sound. "Yeah," he squeaked, pausing a minute or two more until he felt his voice was more under control, "That qualified as a wow."

"I don't suppose we could just stay here all night," she offered, still face down on his chest. He could feel himself slipping from inside her, and the gush of fluid that accompanied that act.

"I think as it is, we might have to look into upholstery cleaners tomorrow." She groaned. His gaze traveled to the red numbers on the VCR. "Besides, it's really only eight o'clock. Kinda early to be calling it a night, especially for us." Buffy groaned again, and crawled off of him, eyeing the large wet spot as Xander sat up and she snuggled up beside him. "Why did I have to be adventurous? The bed would have been just as good, and I could just wash the sheets. Maybe it won't show when it dries."

"Or maybe it will just smell like we had wild monkey sex on the sofa, and when Dawn comes back, she'll know, and we can save all the sneaking around," Xander offered unhelpfully.

"Okay. Tomorrow - upholstery cleaners. Do they offer same day service?"

"I was thinking about renting a machine and doing it ourselves."

"You're so lucky you have me so relaxed right now I can't think of a sharp and witty comeback to that." She rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her, and they sat quietly for a minute or two. "You okay about what Willow said? There is absolutely nothing wrong with you except for the fact you are so damned sexy sometimes, I can't think straight. Now, since I can't really tell Willow that, we'll have to come up with some excuse for my attitude recently, but as for preventative medicine, I say we do this or something similar far more often than every two to three weeks. You have me hooked, now."

"So you forgive me?"

She turned and looked at him sharply, finally kneeling on the cushion beside him so she could look straight into his eyes. "Nothing to forgive. The whole sex thing was my idea, and you are still my very best friend, as long as you still want to be." Xander could tell that last statement had really been a question, and he knew the right answer for once.

"Of course we're still friends." *I want to be more, but this is pretty good, as far as it goes.*

Her smile was bright enough to dust a vampire. "Good. Now, I don't know about you, but I could use a shower. Wanna save water with me? Then I'll take you out for ice cream, since it's still so early." She hopped to her feet, grabbing Xander's hand and dragging him toward the stairs. "You know, if we're gonna do this more regularly, we definitely need some kind of signal so we can sneak around Dawn and all. Come scrub my back, and I'll think about it."

*It really could be worse,* Xander thought optimistically, following her obediently up the stairs.