Ethos of Enlightenment
Disclaimer: Joss, WB etc etc own them, not me.
Spoilers: Bad Girls.
Author's Notes: I should be writing a paper on Foucault (which is why the title makes no sense!), but for some reason, I can't get my mind off sex! So hopefully I shall be able to concentrate a bit more now! Oh, and no beta!
For: A certain two male list members who keep asking me for smut!
This shouldn't be happening. There was Angel, and...and...
"Buffy." The voice was husky on her neck. It went through her head again that there was something very wrong about this, but it felt so right. It was something that she had never needed before, not this kind of need anyway. Her skin was cold with desire, the hairs on her arms prickled as the skin there bumped. It was all she could do to stop herself throwing her head back and arching her body forwards. Her hair hung limply by the sides of her face, the unpleasant smell of sewer water making its way into her nostrils. The exhilaration of near death still fresh in her veins, her chest still heaving from the exertion of the fight. It had all happened so quickly, so easily...
"Tell me you don't get off on this!"
"Didn't suck." Buffy held the amulet, feeling a kind of power that she had never got before from the slaying. It was as if she had let herself go, let her body move of its own volition, easy moves flowing from her limbs like it was the most natural thing in the world. She glanced over at Faith, who was breathing heavily, having taken her fair share of the vamps that had surrounded them in that tiny sewer tunnel. Faith with a smile on her lips and a look in her eyes that was nothing more than pure lust. That kind of feeling Buffy knew she was feeling herself. Their breathing was not becoming any easier, even now when the fight was over; in fact they were starting to breath in a synchronised, heavy rhythm, eyes locked. Buffy realised that this was what Faith had been talking about all the time, the thrill that she got from the slaying, and she knew that she had underestimated how strong it could be. Then Faith spoke, voice gravely enough to sound as if she had been smoking forty a day for the past seventeen years of her life.
"Buffy..." And then they were moving towards each other, not kissing but gravitating towards together. Faith must have known that Buffy felt it this time, that she understood. Because that was when Buffy felt strong hands on her waist, propelling her towards the sewer wall, her leather jacket sliding briefly on the slime that had accumulated there. Faith's thigh was between her own, and everywhere that their bodies touched, Buffy could feel her skin tingle like a thousand tiny needle pricks. Faith was so obviously holding back, fighting against her desire, uncertain as to the reasons why Buffy was suddenly feeling this way, and doubt mingling with lust in case she had misread the situation. The desire in Buffy's stomach was building, the feel of Faith's hip pressed hard against her becoming more than she could bare. She dropped the sword she was still holding in her right hand and gripped the back of Faith's neck, pulling her roughly towards her, their lips barely making contact before she opened her mouth and thrust her tongue deep between Faith's lips, feeling the groan of desire force its way into her own mouth. Her left arm found its way around Faith's waist, and pulled the brunette harder against her own body, as she used her shoulders to arch herself of the wall, forcing almost total contact between them. This shouldn't be happening. But she just didn't care.
Her hands quickly moved to the shoulders of Faith's jacket, pulling it open, and Faith automatically shrugged her way out of it. Even before it had fallen to the floor, Buffy had grabbed the hem of Faith's tank top and was pulling it upwards, the material passing between their faces the only time they paused in kissing, not looking each other in the eyes, mouths instinctively finding each other the moment the material was above Faith's head and she was tugging it over her wrists and throwing it on the floor. Buffy silently cursed the fact that for once Faith was wearing a bra, her hands shaking with desperate frustration so much so that she struggled to undo the clasp. She felt herself being pulled off the wall and realised that Faith was tugging off her coat, their limbs becoming entangled in the rush to remove each other's clothes. Struggling just seemed to make them more needy and the kiss became passionate to the point of frantic. The girls started groping with each other's zippers at the same time, the undressing taking far too much time and keeping their bodies at arms length. Until Buffy decided that she couldn't take this any more. The fight had been like some strange kind of foreplay, and now she wanted more. Her legs were starting to shake with a mix of adrenalin, lust and hormones, and she needed to touch and be touched. Once Faith's zipper was down fully, she pulled the two of them together, gasping as she felt Faith's naked body press against her own. She felt strangely alive for the first time, living purely for the sake of living. Her nipples ached with desire, and she felt her body turn to liquid as Faith reached up to cup her breast, the pressure of her thumb over her nipple not hard enough. Buffy finally gave into the touch, breaking the kiss to throw her head back, moaning to no-one in particular, her arms around Faith's neck as if she was hanging on for dear life. Her hips began to grind against Faith's of their own volition, as she felt the other slayer dip her head and finally take her nipple into that lipstick smudged mouth, tugging it roughly, as if trying to take it in and make it part of herself. And then she felt the slime of the wall cold on her back as Faith pushed her onto it, needing Buffy to have some support as her own legs began to grow weak. Then Faith's mouth was on hers again, and she felt fingernails slightly graze her skin as they slipped inside her underwear, trying to manoeuvre within the confines of the clothing, sliding as Faith tried to rub her clit but her wetness meant that her fingertips couldn't seem to hit the spot. It was frustrating and arousing at the same time, and Buffy realised she was moaning into Faith's kisses, that Faith needed the same thing as she did. Having both hands free, she slid Faith's leathers over her hips so that they hung loosely on her thighs and used the width of her palm to ease Faith's legs open enough for her. Faith was as wet as she was, Buffy thought, as she stroked her forefinger backwards and forwards, making Faith tremble. Buffy gasped as Faith finally thrust her fingers inside her, the awkward angle caused by her clothing forcing Faith's wrist almost to breaking point. But the restriction meant that she could rub herself against Faith's palm, in time with the thrust of her fingers. She could feel the pressure beginning to build inside as Faith's fingers curved upwards, almost stroking inside her at the same time as she was sliding in and out. She knew that she was close, that she was so near to getting what she so desperately needed, and she could tell that Faith was as well. Buffy could feel the first tiny spasms clutch around her fingers and taste the blood in her mouth where Faith had bit her lip as they had both started to lose control. Buffy could hardly get enough air into her lungs, as each intake was nothing more than a gasp. She flicked the thumb upwards and outwards in a circular motion as she pushed her fingers deep inside Faith. As Faith came, she called out Buffy's name, a cry that came from somewhere deep inside, almost animalistic in the way it was laden with so much need. It was all that was needed for Buffy to join her, and she found her legs clamping together as she thrust up against Faith's palm one last time. She groaned deep in her throat as the most intense orgasm she had ever had seemed to rip its way through her body.
As she pulled her fingers out of Faith, Buffy felt her legs go weak, and she slid down the wall, gasping hard. Faith followed her, unable to get her breathing steady, shivering as she fell back against the cold walls. The two of them sat there, side by side in silence, legs stretched out in front of them, neither having the energy to lift them. Finally Buffy turned towards Faith, knowing that this shouldn't have happened, but there was something so right about it, and wondering whether she still cared about whether it was right or wrong or hormones or too much coffee from earlier that day...
Instead, she reached forward for her clothing and smiled at Faith. "You hungry?"