CoF - Laure Alexander - TEAOW&S - The Bitter Suite: Sex, Lies & Betrayal

AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lara@sunflower.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRINGS: Spike/Drusilla, Buffy/Angelus
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters on the show. Joss Whedon and the WB Network own them (for now). No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue.
AUTHORS NOTES: This flows directly from "Heart Hush" and is set in the main story line (YAY!!!). So, Angel is at Buffy's (more of them next chapter). ~~~~~ means a flashback.
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Willow parked the car on the street and silently made her way up the driveway, then around the back to the garden. Slipping in the gate, she looked around for any hint of movement. Assured that she was alone, she continued on through the garden towards the French doors to the living room.

It was risky this way, but from the outside she wasn't sure which room was Spike's and since all the windows were painted over she couldn't see inside.

Peering through the doors, Willow breathed a sigh of relief that the main room was empty. Slipping inside, she clung to the wall and quickly made her way to the main hall. Spike's room was the only one on the ground floor, although there was an elevator in the mansion.

Reaching his room without spying or being spied by a vampire, Willow turned the knob and hurried inside, closing the door behind her.

Blinking into the candle light, Willow froze and stared at the couple laying naked on the bed in a loose, sleepy embrace.

At his voice, horror flooded her, quickly followed by shock and a terrible feeling of betrayal. Her lover was in bed with another woman. Willow didn't know what to do. As her mind shattered, she continued to stare, her hand behind her clutching the door knob so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Spike? It's the little red haired girl. Have you been playing games with her again? She plays nice games." Drusilla sat up and, stretching like a cat, climbed over Spike and off the bed.

The hungry, sensual look on the female vampire's face finally thawed Willow. As pain surged through her shocked mind, she turned and yanked the door open.

Behind her she heard Spike curse and call her name, but she ran through the house like all the hounds of Hell were in pursuit. As she shoved open the French doors, tears began to stream down her face. By the time she reached the car, she was sobbing brokenly, so incredibly hurt.

Slumping behind the wheel, she locked the doors and fumbled with the keys until she found the right one. Starting the car, Willow peeled down the street, nearly blinded by her tears.

A tiny part of her hoped that she crashed into something. Maybe that would make him hurt as much as she did.

Drusilla turned toward Spike and shrugged. "I guess she didn't want to play after all." Running her hands through her tangled curls, she stretched toward the ceiling, the candle light playing off her pale body.

"Um, Dru, maybe you should go wait for Angel in his room. He won't like it if he finds you here."

A small pout crossed her face and she placed her hands on her hips. "Daddy hasn't been home until morning all week. He's not playing nice. Not like you." She gave him a lascivious grin and licked her lips. "You play very nice, my Spike."

Desperate to get her out of the room so he could follow Willow, Spike cursed silently and tried to think of another tack. Sitting up carefully, pretending that his legs were still not working, Spike watched Drusilla traipsing naked around the room.

She was undeniably beautiful--all black and white--but in his mind's eye he saw color--reds and peaches and warm ivories. He silently cursed again, this time at himself, for letting this happen. Caught between two women. Whomever thought that was a good thing was a delusional fool.

Spike awoke to the feeling of cool, wet lips running over his naked chest. He sighed in pleasure and squirmed. A nip on his shoulder brought his eyes wide open. Looking down, he saw long black hair strewn across him.

"Look, Spike, little Spike works," she proclaimed joyously, her hand encircling his erect cock.

Spike groaned, both at her words and his rather painful cock that she was massaging with her experienced fingers. How had this happened?

"Dru, what are you doing here?" he managed to ask as his brain desperately tried to skitter away and let the pleasure in.

A pout formed around her lips and her eyes narrowed. "Daddy keeps going away and leaving me behind. He won't play with me anymore."

No fucking kidding with all the Slayer banging Angel had been doing for the last couple weeks. Spike wisely kept his mouth shut.

Drusilla sat back on her heels and raised her hands to her breasts. The nipples were dark rose colored and she pinched them into erection as she spoke. "I came in to see if you would hunt with me, but you were asleep...and so lovely," she said dreamily. "And little Spike was sticking up, like a little man in a tent. It's been sooo long."

Spike silently cursed his randy dick, then wondered why he was doing that. He was horny. Drusilla was willing. He still loved her...didn't he? As his eyes focused on her bouncing breasts, an image of Willow filled his mind, but he shook it away.

He was a vampire. Vampires fucked anything that moved if they wanted to, no restrictions, no hang ups. He had told Willow that often enough. So what if he loved her. He loved Drusilla, too.

A tiny part of his mind screamed at him that his love for Willow was something very special and something very different from what a vampire should feel, but as Drusilla bent her head and ran her tongue around the tip of his cock, his mind shut down and he groaned as lust flared, making his hips buck.

"Ooh, you can move a bit, too. Oh, Spike, you're getting better and soon we'll be able to dance again." Opening her mouth wide, she deep throated his cock, sucking hungrily at his sensitive flesh. Letting her lips slide back up, she nibbled on the tip and Spike jerked, growling her name.

Drusilla giggled and ran her tongue up and down his staff, then lapped at his heavy balls. "Umm, you taste good."

Feeling the hot lust churning in the flesh beneath her tongue, Spike let his eyes roll back and dug his fingers into the bedding. "Pet," he groaned. "Ride me."

Giggling again, Drusilla quickly straddled his hips and lowered herself onto his rampaging cock. Spike reached for the breasts dangling over his face and pulled one down to his hungry mouth. As he worried her nipple between his teeth, Drusilla began to move on him, squeezing his cock with her tight passage.

Moaning, she bounced harder, grinding against him. Her sharp fingernails dug into his chest, making him groan and bite her nipple.

Spike tasted her blood as it dripped into his mouth and his lust flew out of control. Grabbing her hips, he slammed her down onto his throbbing cock, smacking their bodies together. Flinging his head back, he howled and came, jerking and bucking into her.

"Oh, Spike," she crooned as he filled her. "Make me come too, please," she begged, still bouncing as he collapsed beneath her.

Lifting her off his shrinking cock, Spike brought her dripping pussy over his mouth. Squealing, Drusilla crouched and grabbed the headboard as he began to lick and suck at her swollen nether lips. Flicking his tongue over her clit, he tasted her juices flowing over his face and sucked hard.

Drusilla growled and hissed and exploded into orgasm, her body shuddering and squirming on his face.

Finally, whimpering in pleasure, she toppled off him and curled into a little ball.

Spike opened his eyes and brushed his face free of her stickiness. His body was calming down and he rolled his head to glance at her. A happy smile was on Drusilla's face. Her eyes were closed and she was sighing.

As his own pleasure faded, the image of Willow again crossed his mind and Spike angrily shooed it away. He was not going to feel guilty about this. It was just sex. And he did still love Drusilla.

Groaning, Spike closed his eyes, wanting to bang his head against a wall but unable to move without betraying his secret. He felt Drusilla stir then curl up against him.

She lay her head on his shoulder and wrapped one arm across his chest. "It always makes me sleepy, too."

Driving all thought from his mind, Spike concentrated on the feel of his long-time love in his arms, trying to ignore the feeling that holding her was somehow wrong.

Somehow he had fallen asleep, only to be awakened by the sound of the door opening.

The look of shock and horror and betrayal on Willow's face remained stuck firmly in his mind. Sometimes he forgot how young she was and that he really had been her only lover.

Of course she would feel betrayed. Rationalizing that he was a vampire and this was what vampires did or that she had never said she loved him, wasn't going to cut it.

Watching Drusilla flit around the room, humming some Disney song, was giving him a headache and since vampires didn't get headaches, it had to be psychosomatic and brought on by guilt.

Guilt? Remorse? What the fuck was wrong with him? Vampires didn't feel those things.

NO! That wasn't it. He was sorry if Willow was hurt and he did love her, but he refused to feel guilty for fucking Drusilla.

If he wanted to fuck Drusilla or fuck anyone, human or vampire or demon, he would.

Willow managed to make it home without crashing her car. Her parents had gone to bed, so she didn't have to face anyone. As she sat on her bed in the dark, sniffling, she really, desperately wanted to call Buffy, but knew that was impossible. Angel would only make it harder for her friend if she interrupted them.

Instinctively reaching for the Winnie the Pooh that had been her most prized possession as a child, Willow hugged it to her, burying her face in the lumpy body as the tears began again. Curling into a ball, she cried softly, not wanting to awaken anyone.

She couldn't get the image out of her mind. Spike on his back, naked. Drusilla, also naked, curled up against him, one arm wrapped across his chest, one leg between his, her head on his shoulder. His hand had been in her hair, cradling the back of her head.

It was so obvious that they had made love. Willow had been able to smell the heady scent of sex, even mingled with the scent of candle wax.

Was this the first time? Or had it happened before? And, if so, how many times? How many times had he not come to her because he was wrapped around Drusilla?

Willow knew that Angel was visiting Buffy nightly. Had his absence prompted Drusilla to approach her former lover? And had he ever been her 'former' lover?

A broken sob erupted from her trembling lips and she hugged Pooh tighter, trying to find some comfort.

But, all she felt was miserable. She had never felt such pain, not even when she had stumbled across Xander and Cordy.

If she felt so much worse now, what did that mean? Did it mean she had deeper feelings for Spike?

Finally, Spike calmed down and tried to look at the situation rationally. That was a difficult thing to do as Drusilla was singing 'Chim Chim Cheree' and dancing with one of his shirts.

"My brother was a chimney sweep when he was oh so little." She stopped swaying and stared blankly at the wall. "He died coughing up black bits of lung." Turning to look at him, she started strangling his shirt collar. "He was lucky."

"Yes, pet," Spike replied almost automatically. He'd heard this story a hundred times before.

Drusilla dropped the shirt as if it had bitten her, then ran her hands down her sides, rubbing them on her thighs. "Why am I naked? Where are my clothes?"

As she scurried to the chair, she squeaked and tried to cover her nudity. "You mustn't look at me. It's not proper. We are not married."

Sighing softly, Spike settled himself back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, she called to him in a quiet, pathetic voice. "Spike? I'm hungry."

"There's food in the kitchen, luv." He glanced towards her and saw that she was dressed in a long black dress. Idly he wondered what she would look like in a mini dress or a pair of jeans.

Willow lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, clutching Pooh to her chest. Tears still leaked from her eyes, but the sobbing had stopped for the moment. Images and memories swirled in her mind.

'Do you love me?' she had asked hesitantly. His answer had bowled her over. 'Yes.' She had been so shocked, but she had believed him. She had truly believed him. And it had made her feel all warm and tingly inside. No man had ever loved her.

And, later that night, when he had said the words, 'I love you, Willow,' her heart had wanted to burst in joy.

But, could she believe him now? He had betrayed her with Drusilla of all people. Willow had known he still had feelings for the female vampire, but she had worked hard on ignoring that aspect of his life, hoping it would just go away.

He had once told her that she was his only lover and she had believed him, feeling very special. Now, she doubted. She doubted everything he had ever said to her.

Sliding from her bed, leaving Pooh behind, Willow brushed the tears from her eyes and walked to the French doors. The stars shown brightly in the black sky and the moon was nearly full.

He wasn't there. A part of her had held onto the hope that he would come to her and explain and make it all better.

Throwing caution to the winds, Willow opened the door and stepped outside. Driven by a confused mixture of loss, betrayal, anger, hatred, pain and fear, Willow headed for the park. The rational part of her brain kept screaming at her to get back inside, but she ignored it, going with the emotional side instead.

Drusilla wheeled Spike through the park looking for likely victims. As he scanned the surrounding area, he realized that they hadn't hunted together since before the accident. It felt good.

Before, she had played the invalid, the lure. Now, he would do it. He had no problem with that. In fact, it was fascinating to watch her in action. During her long illness he had forgotten what a graceful and deadly hunter she was.

As she took down a potential mugger, Spike smiled and watched her play with the terrified man, like a cat and mouse. Finally, she tired of her play and clamped one hand around his neck to drag him to Spike.

"This one's yours, my love," she offered, shoving the man's head into Spike's lap.

"Thank you, Dru." Replacing her hand with his own, he jerked the mugger's head up and felt a shiver run through him at the scream of terror. It had been a long time since he had hunted. For too long he had made do with bottled blood and already dead 'gifts' from Angel.

Hot, fresh blood poured over Spike's lips and he drank hungrily, eagerly, letting his demon have free reign for a few moments.

He had to free the demon. The last fresh blood to touch his lips had been Willow's. The comparison of her eagerly given gift to this rape was too much for Spike's human side to deal with.

As she rounded a large bush in the park, Willow froze and quickly backed up. Spike and Drusilla were only ten feet ahead of her, their backs to her.

Clapping her hand over her mouth to hold in her instinctive scream, Willow watched, horrified, unable to look away. Spike was turned slightly towards her as he fed and she could see his demonic face, the flash of his yellow eyes, the blood wetting his lips.

Her stomach churned. He had looked like that when he fed from her. The demon had to be set loose for him to feed.

She remembered looking up at him, seeing his demonic face and screaming in ecstasy.

The man he was feeding on now wasn't in ecstasy. He was being murdered before her eyes. And, she didn't know what to do.

Willow's legs gave out and she fell to her knees, shaking. As fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, she watched as Spike tossed the corpse aside and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

Drusilla applauded, laughing, and bent to lick his lips, then sat on his lap, kissing him deeply.

Drusilla bounced off his lap and moved behind him to grab the handles of the wheelchair. "No, you need to eat lots of fresh food to make you all better. We have plenty of time for me to find dinner."

As Drusilla pushed Spike down a path, Willow stumbled to her knees and ran the other way, tears blinding her.

He was a killer. How had she denied this major part of his character for two months? He killed to survive. Drank blood to survive. And he enjoyed it.

Sobbing now, Willow continued to run, horrified, sickened, and thoroughly disgusted with herself.

Her lover was a demon. She thought she had accepted that. But, the reality had never been so real before tonight.

A demon had touched her, initiated her body into pleasures beyond her wildest dreams.

Gasping for breath, Willow slowed to a shaky walk as her intelligence began to fight her emotions for dominance in her confused mind.

There was something on the edge of her memory. Something she had read about a vampire drinking during sex. What was it?

A distant scream from somewhere behind her broke the silence of the night and Willow spun around, wide-eyed. Choking on her breath, she started running again, suddenly realizing the danger she was in.

Reaching her home, Willow locked her doors and collapsed on her bed, sobbing again. She felt as if her whole world had collapsed and she didn't know what to do to salvage anything.

The easiest way to survive was to lie there and cry. So, reaching for Pooh again, she hugged the toy to her chest and wept into her pillow, finally drifting into an exhausted sleep.

Willow dreamed. She lay on a bed, naked, her arms and feet chained to the four posts. As she struggled feebly, and equally naked Drusilla suddenly draped herself across Willow's stomach, raising her bottom in the air.

Spike thrust hard and fast into the squirming female vampire. Willow could feel her breasts rubbing her stomach as Spike slammed her forward. Groans filled the air as they moved in unison, every touch, every stroke perfectly in tune.

"Why would I want you, Willow, when I can have this? My perfect Drusilla. We've been lovers for one hundred years. How can your few months of experience match that?"

Willow winced at the scorn in Spike's calm voice and tears flowed down her cheeks.

Suddenly the dream shifted and Drusilla was laying on top of her, facing the ceiling, her arms and legs spread to match Willow's. Spike knelt between the spread legs, pounding his cock into her willing pussy.

Willow couldn't feel the weight. All she could feel was the cold flesh covering her, surrounding her. Her nostrils filled with the musky scent of sex.

"You've been a pleasant diversion, but now that Dru knows I can move, why would I want you?"

Drusilla disappeared and Willow screamed in pain as a massive cock forced its way inside her, tearing her until blood poured from her womb.

With a muffled scream, Willow came awake. Flinging herself off her bed, she ran for the bathroom, her stomach churning from the horrible, lingering dream.

Buffy woke up slowly. Her body ached, but in pleasant ways and she felt a bit of her natural energy return. Blinking open her eyes, she saw the muted light creeping around the edges of the closed curtains. It was morning. She had survived another night.

Shifting slightly, she realized that there was an arm around her waist and that her back was pressed against something cool and hard.

He never stayed with her. He always left shortly before dawn, usually after a brutal, quick fuck that left her dazed and sore. The memories of the night before flooded back and Buffy flushed.

He had to be up to something. He must be lulling her into a false sense of security, then he'd...she didn't know what. Maybe he'd kill one of her friends...or her mom. Maybe he'd turn her, making her his slave forever. Maybe he'd throw her to his minions to shred to pieces.

A shiver ran through Buffy's body and she squirmed away from Angel. Slipping silently from the bed, she wrapped herself in her robe and padded to the bathroom, her mind full of terrible possibilities, her body cold with fear.

It was so much easier when he just acted normally--flinging her on the bed or the floor or over a table and fucking her until she screamed in agonized release. That she understood.

This strange tenderness, this desire to give her pleasure, it was just too baffling.

Just before dawn, Drusilla wheeled Spike into the mansion and down the hall to his room. With careful diligence she helped him out of the chair and onto the bed, then removed his jacket and knelt on the floor to pull off his boots.

Rising to her feet, she carefully lifted his legs up onto the bed, then smiled down on him. "I've missed it. You let me play with my food and you share." A small pout formed around her lips and she sank down onto the bed next to him. "Angel is so fierce sometimes." She shuddered delicately.

"Yeah, he's a beast, luv," Spike murmured as he reached up for a tendril of her hair, running it through his fingers.

Drusilla shivered and she lowered her eyes to her lap. Her fingers fidgeted in her skirt and she sighed softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Spike."

At her sorrow-filled words, Spike's eyes shut briefly as his heart wanted to shatter. He did still love her. He just didn't know how important their love was anymore.

Spike continued to stroke her hair, tamping down the anger that had arisen towards his sire.

"He's not here," she said suddenly. "It's morning and he's not here." Drusilla began to keen, rocking and holding her head. "Where is he, Spike? Where's Angel?"

"I don't know, luv, but I'm sure he's fine," Spike lied, sliding his hand down onto her shoulder to turn her to face him.

Wrapping his arms around her shaking body, Spike cradled her close, murmuring soothing words to her, all the while picturing Angel roasting in Hell, some well-hung demon's fucktoy.

When Buffy returned to her bedroom, Angel was awake, laying on his side, his head propped up in one hand. The sheet barely covered his hip and molded to his strong legs.

Angel patted the bed next to him and Buffy carefully sat down, then leaned back against the headboard.

"It's a weekend. Your mom's gone." He shrugged his shoulders, then reached for one of her hands, bringing it to his lips.

"Um, I'm not sleepy." Buffy was having a terrible time trying to remain calm. She just didn't understand this strange mood of his.

Raising himself up on one arm, he gave her a wicked grin. "I bet I can think of a way to make you sleepy."

Sighing, Angel tugged her down into his arms and began to place feather light kisses on her neck. Slowly he pulled the robe open and off her shoulders, his mouth nuzzling along her collar bone.

Trying to relax, Buffy closed her eyes and concentrated on the touch of his lips and his hands as they opened the robe further. Cool air blew across her and she felt her nipples harden.

As his lips ran down her arm, Angel's hand slipped over her stomach and between her thighs. She was slick with need and her hips bucked as he pressed one finger against her clit.

Pleasure roared through her and Buffy whimpered, arching into his fingers. When his mouth found one nipple, worrying it with his teeth and tongue, she slid her fingers into his thick hair, holding him to her breast.

"So hot and wet, love," he murmured before sliding his mouth to the other breast.

As he suckled at her tender nipples, Angel slipped one finger inside her and smiled as her muscles clamped around him. Continuing to rub her clit with his thumb, he worked another finger inside and began to thrust them gently.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of her fingers digging into the bedding as her other hand continued to press him to her breasts.

Pulling free of her hand, Angel moved over her and lowered his mouth to hers. Buffy returned his kiss with eager passion, her tongue darting into his mouth to meet his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers twining into his hair as she pulled him closer.

"Do you want me inside you, Buffy?" he asked softly as she peppered his face with kisses.

Moving his hand from between her thighs to beneath her hips, he arched her against him. Buffy wrapped one leg around his waist and moaned at the feel of his hard cock pressed against her hip.

Slipping fully between her spread legs, Angel began to thrust gently against her soaking pussy, feeling her heat burn into his throbbing cock. Buffy whimpered and bucked and dug her nails into his shoulders as she tried to bring him into her.

He continued to tease them both until sweat broke out on her forehead and breasts and she was panting brokenly and his control was nearly broken. Kissing her hungrily, Angel thrust his cock inside her, groaning as she sucked him all the way in. Her other leg wrapped around his thighs in an attempt to control the speed and depth of his thrusts.

Lifting his head so that she could breathe, Angel looked down into her passion-flushed face, her wild, sparkling eyes, her moist mouth. She panted his name as he gripped her hips and thrust hard and deep.

"Yes, please, more," she begged, nearly incoherently, her legs clenching him tightly as she met each thrust, slamming against his pelvis.

Grunting in pleasure, Angel buried his mouth in her neck and thrust harder. She keened and moaned and bucked, clutching him to her. Feeling the tension in her shaking body, he wormed one hand between their churning bodies, and found her throbbing clit.

Buffy yelled and tightened all her limbs and muscles around him as she froze for a split second, then exploded in pleasure. Shuddering beneath him, her pussy squeezing his cock, she panted his name over and over.

Throwing his head back, Angel growled and let his own violent, explosive release come, pistoning his cock into her hot depths.

Slowly they separated, limbs falling away, wet flesh peeling from cold. Angel rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, stunned.

As Buffy curled against him, trembling and exhausted from her powerful orgasm, Angel felt shock roll through him.

The sex between them had never been that good. He couldn't put his finger on just what had been so good, or different. But, something had made it powerful and fantastic.

For a vampire, sex was fun and wild. A lot of hot, hard fucking and erupting into ecstatic orgasms. And, selfish, above all else, selfish.

Last night he had set aside his own desires to make her feel good. He understood the need for that.

But, why had it continued this morning? Consciously, he hadn't been thinking about it either way. He had just wanted to fuck her. Somehow his hands and body had worked to give her sweet, tender pleasure, when he should have just driven into her and fucked her into unconsciousness.

Growling low in his throat in frustration, Angel glanced down and saw that Buffy was asleep, curled trustingly around him, her head on his chest.

Finally calming down, Drusilla began to lick Spike's neck, then sat up, splaying her hands across his chest. "Who needs, daddy," she murmured, licking her lips and narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.

Moving her hand down his body, she slid it between his legs and cupped his cock, caressing it through the denim of his jeans. As it hardened, she smiled in delight, then clapped her hands, bouncing on the bed.

"Oooh, I have such a wonderful idea, Spike. I know you can't do it very many ways because you're still owied, but let's do it in your chair." Her eyes gleamed lustily and she scrambled to her feet, pulling her dress over her head and kicking off her shoes.

Naked, Drusilla leaned over him and began to undress him. When he was naked, she lifted him in her arms and set him in his wheelchair, placing each foot on the foot pedals.

Drusilla twirled around, clapping some more, then fell to her knees and took his half-hard cock in her hands. Lowering her head, she ran her tongue over the tip, then up and down the staff, wetting him with her cold saliva.

As he reached full erection, Spike groaned in pleasure and ran his hands over her head, caressing her. He could feel her hard, little nipples pressing into his thighs, rubbing against him as her head bobbed up and down.

Making sure the brake was on the chair, Drusilla rose to her feet and turned around.

Realizing what she wanted, Spike grabbed her waist and guided her down onto his cock. She squealed and squirmed until she was sitting on him, her thighs draped across the arms of the chair.

Brushing her hair aside, Spike clamped his mouth onto the nape of her neck, then lifted her and slammed her back down on his cock. They both groaned and the chair rocked.

As Spike slid one hand between her legs to caress her clit, Drusilla released the brake and began to wheel them around the room, bouncing lightly on his cock.

Closing his eyes, Spike sucked on her neck and rubbed her clit, feeling her inner muscles clamp down on his cock as she spun them in circles.

"Ooh, Spike, yes, finger me, fuck me with your fingers, make me come, ooh baby," she babbled, in one of her lascivious moods.

Twisting her clit, Spike arched his hips, slamming his cock deep inside her cold passage. Drusilla whimpered, then screamed and bucked against him. Grabbing the arms of the chair again, she bounced hard and fast on his cock, drawing out her orgasm.

Grabbing her ass, Spike screwed her down hard, flung back his head and yelled in satisfaction as he came, spewing his cold semen up into her dripping pussy.

These authors spend lots of time to write these stories. If you took the time to read this PLEASE take the time to give them some feedback. Happy writers write more ;-)

Laure Alexander - lara@sunflower.com

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