(fanfic) The Saphomore

["Lee, The Chicken Slayer" <cq585@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Title: "The Saphomore", or "Lee's Lipstick Lesbian Porno Extravaganza, Part
The First: Buffy vs. Willow, Round 1: The Saphomore" (Yes, I spelled it
that way on purpose. Clue in.)

Author: Lee Andrew MacNeill (cq585@xxxxxxxxxxx)

Date: started June 2000

Rating: I tried for R or less with my choice of words, but in your
jurisdiction it probably rates an NC-17 or even an X, due to content.

Draft: First. General commentary and specific edits happily welcome. Send
to my private email address, please.

Spoilers: None. I got skillz, yo. :-)

Continuity: Not sure. I'd like some feedback on this.

Pairing: Buffy and Willow. Repeatedly.

Warning: Needlessly graphic girl-on-girl love-scene starring characters I
did not create but am nonetheless pathologically attached to. If such
material offends you, I suggest you quit while you're ahead. Or better yet,
get a clue. Kudos, Kommentary, Kritiques and Kriticisms to
cq585@xxxxxxxxxxx. Flames to /dev/null. Beotch.

Copyright: All characters are copyrights and/or trademarks of their
respective owners. Used without permission, for non-profit entertainment
purposes only, in accordance with the principles of 'fair use'. No
ownership on my part should be implied or construed.

Distribution: No redistribution or archiving, please. This work is for the
potential amusement of the original mail recipients only. For now at any
rate. When it's done, things will be different.

Dedication: For Andi. May you again see her the way I do.

Shouts' out: Alan, the Dark Lord of FaithFic; all the B/W shippers who
refuse to dismiss Angel and Oz; SMG and ALH, who bring two *awsome*
characters to life (and did I mention lately my weakness for cute little
Aries girls?); and, as always, Joss, whose PH47 C0CK I am not fit to suck.

M4dd pr0pz to: Liz Estrada from whom, on later reread I now realize, I may
have accidentally lifted some of my imagery and phrasology. Oops. Oh
well... what was that they say about 'the sincerest form of flattery' again?

Author's Notes: Rarely do I write fiction these days, much less fanfiction.
But every once in a while, words begin to coalesce in the left hemisphere of
my brain. They swirl and merge, and after a while the nascent prose begins
to dig at the inside of my very living skull, like some sort of mewling
demon clawing for birth. At that time, I commit it to paper or text file,
explosively freeing the fledgling story from it's prison of meat and bone in
a baptism of cerebro-spinal fluid, brain-meat, and skull fragments. I have
little control over the content of the story, and it usually has some form
of dramatic intrigue.

This one however, is just pure, unadulterated porn.

I apologize in advance. I'll try and include a plot next time.

Maybe.

Summary: Smut. Buffy/Willow love scene with all the Naughty Bits spelled
out in graphic detail, very little dialogue, and none of that annoying
"plot" business.

* * *

The two lay in bed cuddling, their noses barely touching, staring into one
another's eyes. The slayer adopted an affectionate yet playful grin, and
tenderly nuzzled the young witch's nose with her own, eliciting a bashful
little giggle from the other girl. An odd reaction, given that the two lay
snuggling naked in the young witch's bed, but if anything, that only made
her shyness more endearing.

The slayer's expression became slightly more serious as she gazed at the
girl next to her. So frightened, so increbibly lonely, yet so very strong.
The slayer realized that what the young witch went through every day was so
similar to her own pain, her own lonliness... it broke her heart, and she
was consumed by an overwheming urge to keep the girl safe, to try make her
happy any way she could.

She had no idea that impulse would bring her to wind up in the other girl's
bed.

She'd never really been attracted to a girl before; bits and pieces here and
there, sometimes born of envy, often of a simple pragmatic appreciation of
beauty (female or otherwise) but her baser physical lusts were more or less
reserved for the male of the species.

The young witch noticed her friend's expression intensify, and fidgeted as
concern filled her.

"Hey, are you okay? You suddenly have a case of sad-face."

"I'm fine," came the sheepish reply, the slayer's mood lightening somewhat.

"I just... I -- I love you. I really love you." The slayer was surprised
by the sudden conviction she felt as she said those words. She had said
them to the witch before, but she had never realized that she had meant them
in this way. Her voice, however, didn't change, and the witch took the
comment the same way she always took it. An adorable smile, with only the
tiniest bit of shyness poking through.

The slayer glowered. She wasn't getting through to her friend. She would
have to use a more vulgar expression to communicate her newfound meaning.

She moved in and kissed the witch tenderly, but firmly. The slayer engulfed
the young witch's lips, teasing and sucking at them. After a few moments,
the slayer's tongue gently entered the girl's mouth. She poured herself
into the act, passion welling up within her. She had to make the girl see,
make her understand with her actions what her words had failed to convey.
She had no idea the shy little wallflower she'd befriended so long ago would
come to mean so much to her. It almost ached, how badly she wanted to hold
the little witch in her arms, and never let her go.

So lost was she, awash in her own emotions, the slayer didn't notice it at
first. Lust began to stir within the young witch. The slayer wasn't sure
if her kiss had effectively communicated what she meant it to , but if
nothing else, it certanly succeeded in raising the other girl's body
temperature.

The witch felt her skin flush as warmth enveloped her, and her body began to
ready itself. She didn't notice as her left hand drifted up to her left
breast, found the taut nipple there, and began to play with it.

The slayer however, did notice. She slid her right hand underneath the
witch's left, taking over. The witch's right hand circled around to the
other girl's back. The slayer felt her start to claw, trying to pull her
body closer. She could sense the need stirring within the young witch,
growing stronger with every passing second. Without thinking, the slayer's
hand drifted downward, gently tracing the smooth skin of the witch's chest
and abdomen. Panic siezed her and her hand came to an abrupt halt just
south of the witch's navel. She hadn't realized what she was about to do
until she had almost done it.

The slayer broke the kiss, and sat up on the bed to survey her friend. Her
sudden movement knocked the covers aside, giving the slayer an unobstructed
view of her friend's lithe body in the dim light.

The witch's eyes opened and she looked up at her friend.

The slayer stammered, lost in a sea of fear and desire. "I-- I don't know
how to-- I mean, I've never--"

The witch perked up, helpfully. "Yes, you have! I-- I mean..." she
blushed violently, casting her eyes away from her friend, groping for the
words. "I mean-- you already know what to do." The slayer looked
hesitant, yet her hand remained where it lay. The witch could almost see
the other girl's inner conflict on her face.

"Hey," she began gently, trying to assuage her friend's fear.

The slayer looked into her eyes. Without breaking eye contact, the witch
gently took the slayer's hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing the tips
of her fingers, and said "You know I trust you."

With that, the slayer's heart melted anew, and all her fear, doubt and
hesitation vanished without a trace. How could she allow her own confusion
and uncertainty to deny the impossibly sweet creature beneath her *any*
conceivable pleasure? The witch, still beaming at her friend, began to
replace her hand where it had halted in it's trek. In a moment of lucidity,
her helpfullness overcame her, and she returned the slayer's hand to her
face. She took the first two fingers of the other girl's hand into her
mouth, dutifully moistened them and, pleased with her cleverness, returned
the hand to it's former resting place just below her belly. Then she
flashed a sweet, almost incongruously innocent smile up at her friend.

Lust ignited in the slayer like a race engine, roaring to life with a fury
made of liquid iron.

The witch let out a startled little yelp as the slayer's mouth descended
upon hers like a ravenous beast. The yelp almost instantaneously became a
nasal moan as she felt a finger snake inside of her, quickly followed by
another. Her back arched as the palm of the slayer's hand ground against
her almost too ferociously as her fingers worked, wracking her body with
waves of pleasure.

The slayer pried her lips away from the girl, and began to kiss down the
side of her face, underneath her jawline. She paused, her face pressed into
the other girl's neck, and focused on her fingerwork for a moment. The
witch moaned and moved into a rhythm with the slayer's hand. The slayer
snarled and growled against the other girl's neck, and began raking her
teeth across the witch's flesh, just short of biting her.

Somewhere in the back of the witch's mind, for a brief moment, she actually
worried that her friend had been Turned, and that any second now, she would
feel fangs sink into her neck. The panic never set in, however, as it was
instantly obvious that this was just her friend, still fully human, but
feral and animalistic as she burned with passion.

All worry and thought of vampirism dissolved like smoke as the witch's body
tore her from her thoughts.

She bucked and writhed as the slayer's ministrations quickened pace. Her
conscious stream of thought began to fragment and destabilize as waves of
ecstasy assaulted her nervous system, crashing against her like an ocean
breaking against a rocky shore.

She began to whimper, a nasal wince, in time with the hand pounding into
her.

Gasping, her back arching, her mouth open in a soundless howl, her body
began to tremble, and squeeze against the slayer's fingers.

After maybe a dozen heartbeats or so, the witch's body began to sigh and
relax. She smiled, her eyes opened, and she looked at her friend.

The slayer was lost in sensation, unable to process language, or form
complex thought. The witch couldn't recall at what point the slayer had
wrapped her legs around her right thigh and began grinding herself against
the witch's leg. The slayer seemed distracted, disoriented, and just as the
witch started to worry, she realized what was going on.

The slayer's heightened senses had seized control of her.

It had never before occurred to the young witch that the slayer's superhuman
sense of touch would practically incapacitate her in situations like this.

An irrational fear possessed her then. She wanted her friend back,
coherent, able to communicate again, no longer trapped in a prison of flesh,
of firing nerves that flooded her with sensation and refused to let her
think. It was silly of course, the slayer would return to normal after only
a few minutes once the sensations stopped. The witch was not content to
just leave her hanging like that though, frustrated and unfulfilled, and
deep down there was also a tiny little kernel of irrational fear that she
might somehow lose the slayer. She was determined to bring her friend out
of limbo herself.

The witch considered how best to dislodge her friend from her leg. She
decided to switch over the source of the stimulation, but she knew trying to
moisten her fingers with her tongue would be futile. Her mouth was still
dry from the ragged, vocal heavy breathing of just a few moments ago.
Thinking quickly, she realized that she was still relaxed, and very wet
herself. She dipped her hand between her legs for a moment, and when she
withdrew it the two foremost fingers were suitably moistened. Perfect.

A low moan escaped the slayer's lips as the witch's fingers entered her.

The witch carefully applied just enough pressure with her palm to afford the
slayer the same amount of sensation she had been causing herself against the
witch's leg.

She smiled inwardly.

Her plan had worked; the slayer's legs had lost their deathgrip on the
witch's thigh. Stray thoughts of a scene from "Raiders Of The Lost Ark"
came to mind, but the witch pushed them aside. She wasn't done yet.

The witch used her newfound leverage to manoever the slayer onto her back,
effectively trading places with her.

If she was going to bring the slayer back, she was going to need heavier
artillery. But she wasn't ready just yet; her mouth was still dry. That
would need to be fixed first.

The witch lowered her mouth to the other girl, but didn't kiss her.
Instead, she licked the slayer's lips, sucked them, slid her tongue into the
girl's mouth, deftly explored behind her teeth, the tender skin under the
lips and under the slayer's tongue.

She showed the other girl an impressive amount of oral skill, hoping that
her mind would awake with a start as she realized what the witch planned to
do to her next.

It didn't work. The witch guiltily admitted to herself that she was glad
the implied threat hadn't been enough to snap her friend back to reality.

She began to kiss down the slayer's body, pausing for a brief, selfish
moment to nuzzle and kiss a small breast. She inched down the bed, and
eventually her face met up with her hand. She withdrew her fingers, and
immediately began gingerly licking at and kissing between the slayer's legs,
sucking in the hot, musky scent, and reaching up with both hands to hold
onto the slayer's hips. The witch's attentions were pushing the slayer
further and further into her prison, but somehow the slayer knew that
somewhere down that road lay freedom. With a monumental act of will, the
slayer asserted just enough control over her arms to override their
involuntary spasming and tensing, and move them down to gently stroke the
witch's ears and head, goading her on. The witch's pace slowed slightly as
she looked up at her friend, and saw the faraway look still there in her
eyes. She redoubled her efforts. Soon, she would have her friend back.

The witch's attentions would have been quite remarkable set against normal
human flesh, and on the slayer's hypersensitive skin this was doubley so,
yet the slayer remained teetering on the verge of release as the witch
continued to work, and her hands roamed over her friend's body. The witch
could feel her friend trembling, so close to the edge.

She brought her right hand back between the slayer's legs, and pulled her
mouth away just long enough to moisten two fingers. As she resumed her
maddeningly languid and slow licking, she slid her fingers as deep as she
could inside the slayer.

The slayer started to cry out, over and over again, a gutteral sound
somewhere between an exclaimation and a gasp. Suddenly the slayer inhaled
sharply, and her breath caught as her whole body tensed. Tiny spasms shook
her for what could only have been about 10 or 20 seconds, though it seemed
to go on and on.

Finally, she sighed, and as one, all the muscles in her body uncoiled like
a gently wound spring.

The witch looked up at her friend, expectantly, and was elated to find the
slayer staring down at her with a mellow and slightly dazed, yet completely
lucid grin.

"Oh. My. Um... *wow*. Where did you learn to do that?"

The witch snuggled up beside the slayer. "Girl scouts." she replied simply.

The slayer recoiled in shock.

The witch burst out laughing.

The slayer tried to look vexed, but couldn't contain her amusement as she
snuggled back in.

The witch was just glad to have her friend back, glad that she had been the
one to bring her back. Something about completely losing her friend, even
if only in a temporary and metaphorical sort of way, struck at the witch,
cut her to the bone.

This was the girl who had helped her find love, who proved to her that she
didn't have to be alone.

It was a debt that needed to be repaid, and the witch would gladly spend the
rest of her days doing it. That, and the repaying would be a highly
pleasant experience in itself.

<continued...?>

-----
Endnotes: Once again, my remarkable lack of follow-through rears its ugly
head. I still have one more Nookie Scene to write before the point of the
story finally reveals itself. Okay, I lied, I actually *did* sorta have a
plot the whole time. However, it seems whenever I come back to this story,
I tweak what's there, rather than finish it.

Sigh.

Anyway, lemme know what you think of The Story So Far. With any luck, I
will be able to emit the third scene and the wrap up of that dangling plot
thread Real Soon Now.

And if you find that this story makes you just have to go Spank, drop me a
line. Nyooch! ;-)


--
#include <disclaimer.h> Lee Andrew MacNeill
#ifdef CLUE cq585@xxxxxxxxxxx
#undef CLUE flames to /dev/null
#endif // CLUE O-
--
DNRC: Minister Of Highly-Complex Nonsensical Babble