The ritual was carried out in exacting detail. First he drew the chalk outlines, so carefully that he only marked an inch with every minute that passed. It took him five hours. Then the ululations, strange and ill-shaped words that didn't fit in his mouth, that made his throat feel like a gasoline engine turning over and revving up. He spoke those for two hours.

Finally, the animal sacrifice. He grasped the chicken, held it over the floor despite how it pecked and scratched at his arm, then drove the dagger into it, deep enough that the point almost hit him when it came out the other side. As the blood dribbled out, he ran it in concentric circles over the chalk ideogram, activating the countless minor spells of the ritual one by one.

At long last, it was finished. He could feel the power rising. He could feel the spell working.

He could feel himself growing hard.


Cordelia didn't know what the worst part of this 'patrol' bullshit was. She didn't have to stay shut up in the library with that creepy old perv Giles doing research, or hang out with Princess B-Cup in the mall after dark hunting that Monistat Demon or whatever it was.

But she had to walk through the cold, creepy cemetery at night, her hair getting all brittle and precious sleep-hours being removed from her skin, while Willow Rosenberg tagged along like some teacher's pet out to make sure no one was having any fun.

She probably didn't mind wasting her beauty sleep on trudging through a misty old graveyard. What was the worst that could happen to her looks? She'd already been born a ginger.

"So," Willow said, sounding less nervous than usual in talking to Cordelia. Great, Willow was getting used to being in conversation with her. Next thing you knew they'd be bonding. "How're things with Xander?"

"Besides the fact that he's the Dr. Kevorkian of ending my social life? Absolutely great, Wills. How're things with your Troll doll collection?"

"They're Cabbage Patch Dolls," Willow replied, more appropriately sullen. But she got a second wind. Must've been the rush of endorphins from all that running she did through Xander's friend zone. "Why do you act like you're not dating him? We've all seen you, y'know, dating him? Buffy walked in you after you'd been… dating him for a while."

Cordelia stopped, leaning against a gravestone and ignoring Willow's little yap of offense. "First off, Xander may've dated, I didn't. Not that I would've 'dated' if he stuck his whole fist inside me, but trust me, he's a long way from getting anything inside me and I'm a long way from 'dating' him. So think of us as friends with benefits, without the friends and with very few benefits where I'm concerned."

Willow swallowed her indignation over Cordelia profaning sacred ground. It was a cross-shaped headstone, after all. "That's what I mean. Why are you dating him, or not dating him, or almost dating him—"

"He wishes 'almost," Cordelia muttered.

Willow pressed on bravely: "If you don't even like him. Since I'm sure there are a lot of women who would love to date him if he'd love to date them too…"

"Not enough wine coolers in the world for 'almost'. He'd have to buy absinthe to get me almost dating him—" Cordelia condescended not to ignore Willow for a moment. "And who are these women that would love to date him? Can't be you, he's ever so slightly too masculine for a lesbian—"

"I'm not a lesbian."

"Are we talking about that praying mantis he tried to have sex with?"

"I had sex with Oz."

"Or that mummy he tried to have sex with?"

"Oz is pretty manly. He has body hair. Sideburns…"

"Hunh. I wonder if Xander thinks I'm a demon or something. Maybe he just has a fetish. That is so like him to have a fetish."

Willow shook off her own train of thought. "You didn't tell me why you're dating him."

"I don't know," Cordelia said off-handedly. "Guys like it when girls are in a relationship. Makes them feel like they're in a competition. Single girls are just pathetic." Cordelia glanced at Willow. "If I said no offense, would you believe me?"

"So you're just going to leave Xander as soon as some guy you really like comes… courting you!" Willow gasped.

"Like he's not gonna leave me as soon as some gargoyle hits on him," Cordelia replied bitterly.

"He wouldn't," Willow said. "He really likes you. And he's actually really sensitive, so if you're not, you know, really dating him, maybe you shouldn't? Because, uh, that should be a special thing, not just… a non-special type thing."

"You're right," Cordelia said. "He is really sensitive. And not much with the body hair. Maybe you should date him. Once I'm bored of him eating me out, of course."

"Wait, what?"

Cordelia took out her stake and mimed sucking it for a moment. "Geez, are you sure vampires come out of these graves? I think Buffy just comes up here to make out with Angel. She's totally goth under all those pastels, like her black roots under all that peroxide. You ever wonder if she's part Mexican?"

A vampire arrived before Willow could decide which should come first, telling Cordy that Buffy wasn't Mexican or telling her that it didn't matter whether or not she was the least bit Mexican.

This vampire was not one of the scavengers they might've hoped to take off the playing board in a war of attrition with the forces of darkness; an easy target who'd been preyed upon and had now turned, and would go after other easy targets in turn. Not doing much damage, but gathering up in numbers to serve this year's fall Big Bad, increasing vacuum cleaner sales throughout the region.

No, this was six foot five of nasty muscle, a future Angelus or Spike, the demon in him fitting to its twisted new body like it was a second skin.

Cordelia took one look at him and ran.

Willow took one look at him, considered whether she knew and could work any spells that would work better than a firm lecture, decided the firm lecture had a better chance of working than any spell she cared to attempt, and ran. She was a quick thinker. She started running almost as soon as Cordelia had.

The vampire bounded after them, face shifting instantly into a gnarled mask, long nails extending from its fingers to snatch at them. They clawed into Cordelia's minidress, snagging in it and tearing shreds from it, and Cordelia was so scared she couldn't even much care that a crime against fashion was being committed between her shoulder blades.

Willow had outpaced her—who would've guessed the little redhead would know more about running except that it was what men did in the other direction?—and was at a crypt, throwing the door open, hurling herself inside right ahead of Cordelia. And Cordelia was right behind her, only the vampire's nails sunk into her dress again, this time getting a solid grip. Cordelia threw herself forward regardless, trying to unbalance the vampire like she was deliberately fucking up a cheer routine.

Cordelia wasn't a bulimic like some of the girls on the cheer team, cough, Harmony, cough cough. She had meat on her bones, as Xander put it; her brain stubbornly refused to come up with better phrasing. The point was, she might've been tall and leggy, but she had some voluptuousness on her. Full breasts, womanly hips. If it were Harmony, or a midget like Willow, the tug of war with the vampire would've ended with her being yanked back out into the night and getting used as a human scratching post.

But, since she was Cordelia, her routines required exquisite muscles, and she ate both well and healthily: when she threw herself forward, her weight overcame the force the vampire exerted pulling her back, at least long enough for the material of her dress to fail to overcome that force. It ripped right off her, she hurled into the crypt, and Willow slammed the doors shut in the vampire's face.

Immediately, Cordelia realized what Willow already had: the reason the doors hadn't been locked in the first place. They locked from the inside, with a medieval locking bar mounted on brackets—proving that there were as many dead crazies in Sunnydale as there were live ones. Not being able to bar the door from the outside, the cemetery groundskeepers had just left it unlocked. Now, though, Cordelia helped Willow move the locking bar into place, keeping the vampire out.

Then the door resounded with a hideous crash. The entire crypt seemed to shake. And it seemed dead certain the vampire would get in sooner rather than later.

"Oh God!" Willow cried, hands pressed to her cheeks. "God, it's coming in here!"

"It wants me!" Cordelia said. "Why do I have to look so tasty? Why can't this dumb freak have shitty taste in women, like Oz?"

"Hey!" Willow complained, looking over at Cordelia.

And suddenly rethinking whether or not she was a lesbian.

Cordelia looked amazing in just her bra and panties. A black bra caged her breasts, and they tried to escape with each breath, heaving over the contours of her cups with a steady throb like they were slipping free more and more with every passing second.

Her cleavage swelled heavily there, under her mane of dark hair, showing just how powerfully they pushed from her body. After that, her body narrowed appreciably at her waist: not as if she were wearing a corset, but with the graceful curve of a wave crisply coming into shallow water. After that brief dip, her hourglass figure resumed, her ass full and buoyant, her thighs firm, her legs extending into slender muscle down to her delicate calves, where ankle boots almost snidely reminded that she should be clothed, wearing more than a low-cut bra and boy-cut panties.

"I cannot fucking believe this," Cordelia said, and Willow gulped enough saliva to fill a water cooler as she realized that Cordelia had noticed, that Cordelia knew, holy hell, that she was gay or a little gay or maybe even a lot gay. What'd they call that? Bisexual?

"I'm sorry—" Willow said, but Cordelia ignored her so hard that Willow realized no, Cordelia really wasn't apt to notice anything but herself, and even that only to a limited degree.

"I actually wish I was dating Xander Harris."

"You—you do?" Willow sputtered.

The door rattled again, the locking bar bending inward an inch with either half of the double doors.

Cordelia somehow managed to ignore it, like it was just one more thing not worthy of her time. "I mean, I did 'date' him—not date-date him, but he dated me with his fingers a lot and I did date a few times—with his fingers—it didn't take any wine coolers at all. I could've been dated so much!"

"I think we're mixing this metaphor a lot. With many different things. Until there's barely any metaphor left."

Cordelia noticed her in so much as she sneered. Then her eyes widened. Her lips curled triumphantly. "Ha!" she cried.

"What? Is there a way out?"

"Is there?" Cordelia asked, looking around belatedly, as if somehow they just hadn't noticed one before. Not like I could count on Willow to notice one, she can't even notice she's gay… "No, not that, Xander!"

"What about Xander?" Willow asked, meaning what else about Xander?

"I did it! I got the last laugh! If he were here, about to die, this is where he'd say 'hey baby, Star Wars Star Wars Star Wars, you don't want to die a virgin, do you?' And no, I wouldn't! But since he's not here, he doesn't get to have sex with me! Ha!" Cordelia cried again.

"But he's not going to die," Willow pointed out.

"He's a boy. That's secondary," Cordelia replied. "In fact, this really is a win/win situation. If he were here, I could get in a quick date, but since he's not, he's going to spend the rest of his life remembering how great I was."

For once, Willow found herself wishing that Xander's crush on Buffy would pan out. "I guess it would be nice… not dying a virgin. I mean, it's also nice that Xander's not going to die…"

"I thought you had sex with Oz."

You actually listened to me? Willow thought, shortly followed by that would be when you listened to me. "We did," she said. "I mean, I did, I mean, we did together. But we didn't… do it a lot? If he were here, and we were gonna die, I would want to die even less a virgin, I suppose."

"I would want to die even less a virgin, too," Cordelia said. "If Xander were here. Or if Oz were here, I suppose. Or even if…"

She trailed off leadingly.

"If?" Willow asked, breathless.

"If Buffy were here," Cordelia said.

With a huff, Willow glued her mouth to Cordelia's opening lips, her tongue swiftly entering Cordelia's mouth, her mound pushing warmly at Cordelia's panties and finding that her warm body and Cordelia's warm body made for a very heated embrace.


Neither of them had noticed that the vampire had stopped ramming the door. In fact, he had cracked it sometime ago, a wide crack, quite large enough for him to reach inside, remove the obstruction, and open the door to freely enter.

He probably would've done so, if it hadn't been for what he found the two women doing.

He was hungry as hell, but that could wait. This was dinner and a show.


Cordelia softened, enjoying the lithe redhead's lips, her tongue. Willow's hands circled around Cordelia's naked waist, just above the band of her panties, and pulled to draw their groins more snugly together. Cordelia tried to ignore it, but Willow stroked her hips with soft motions, and Cordelia shivered.

Her long legs opened, standing wider apart, helplessly trying to decrease the perfect tension knotting inside her by relieving the pressure on her sex, but it had nothing to do with her thighs. She whined into Willow's mouth as the redhead kept kissing her. And, trembling, she stroked Willow's body through the thin material of her flower print shirt. She felt Willow's nipples stiffen, felt her own clit tingle.

Willow tore her mouth free, breathing unevenly. "Please, can we do more than kiss? I'd really like to do more than kiss. I'd like to do more than kiss you—you're really beautiful, I never realized how beautiful, and your lips are really nice, I really like them, I'd love to keep kissing you, but I'd like all the other things too—"

Cordelia grinned at her. "I knew it!" She enjoyed the flicker of discomfort she saw go through Willow, weakening her, but also felt a little bad about it. She tried to crush her own concern for Willow under another insult. "Sure you wouldn't be happier with Xander?"

"Would you?" Willow retorted.

"I'm sure he'd like you," Cordelia giggled. "Guys love redheads. Did you know he's ten inches long?"

"I, uh," Willow gasped, "I… is that a lot?"

"I let him rub it between my thighs," Cordelia teased, pulling off her bra, stepping out of her panties. "It makes me go crazy, not having it in my pussy. I can feel it throbbing."

"You're such a—" Willow lowered her shirts, revealing white panties. "Such a—" She lifted her blouse off her belly and away from her shoulders. "I would rather kiss him. I would rather kiss anyone!"

"Welcome to my world," Cordelia retorted, and pushed Willow to fall across the sarcophagus that the crypt centered around. No way in hell she was going to be on bottom for this.


Xander knew this was stupid. He was wandering a misty graveyard at night, alone, and much as he hated to admit it, he was technically a comely version. There weren't many horror movies that would end with him and Jamie Lee Curtis riding off into the sunset.

But he didn't have much choice. His best friend and someone who was probably a friend, and most definitely a girl, were patrolling together. If they got along, they'd gossip about him, and he didn't think Cordy would ever see him in a sexual light again if she knew what'd happened at his sixth birthday party. And if they didn't get along, one of them—well, Cordelia—was liable to say something insanely damaging, getting them both pissed off at each other, making them force him to pick sides, and that would suck.

Plus, there was always the chance they'd be eaten by zombies without a big manly man around.

So Xander was wandering their patrol route, keeping an eye out for them and clutching his stake tightly, when he came across another guy. Standing in the entrance to a crypt. Clutching his stake. Tightly. And he was masturbating. A subject Xander knew unfortunately much about, if not what other guys' techniques were. Or something the least bit edifying, like how Alyssa Milano did it.

Frankly, hauling your dick out in a cemetery and jerking off on a crypt seemed like exactly the kind of shit a vampire would do—probably Angel's idea of a hot Friday night—so instead of pointing out that this was a family cemetery, Xander held his stake close, crept up behind the guy, and saw enough to know that the guy was definitely a vampire. Jerking off was supposed to make you look like you were turning Japanese, not into a Klingon. Ask any Top 40 hit.

He wanted to move faster, get his slay on already, especially since by now he could hear the guy grunting and groaning and please, God, don't make me sound like that when it's my alone time. But despite his revulsion and his fear, he moved slowly, carefully, and miraculously, Pee-Wee Herman didn't notice a thing until Xander was right behind him with a stake through his heart.

"And that's why you use lotion," Xander quipped as the vamp dusted, though on second thought, he doubted Sean Connery or Arnold Schwarzenegger would admit such a familiarity with Rosie Palms and her five sisters, even to a guy that was crumbling into loam. Then again, maybe he'd feel worse, knowing he'd gotten murdered by a chronic masturbator (as if there were people who just masturbated once and then never again, c'mon).

Thanks to a slight, undiagnosed case of ADD, Xander thought all of this in the time it took for the vampire to fall apart and for the subsequent dust to clear, revealing the sight he'd been focused on. What was that? Some kind of Goro thing? A giant spider with human limbs for all its legs? Xander carefully studied it until he caught a flash of white. That was someone's ass. A snowy white ass jutting up in the air.

There were freckles on it.

For a guy who liked drinking blood and hated garlic, the vamp had good taste in women…


Her legs apart, her cunt arched upward, auburn bush opened down the center to show her swelling labia, the stiff pink clit peeking out at the top. Cordelia could see it right through her panties; her breasts, small but beautiful and high and thrusting, inside a lacy white bra. With it in place, her breasts were pure white on one side, riddled with freckles on the other. It filled Cordelia with an absurd desire to rip that bra away.

She crawled onto the sarcophagus, right between Willow's spread thighs, Willow unable to take her eyes off the pendulous breasts swaying under Cordelia's body, the nipples large and dark, swinging in and out of view with every motion of foot and outstretched hand. She stopped, hovering over Willow, and pulled the redhead's panties down her thighs. Willow didn't think it was a coincidence that Cordy left them around her knees, trapping Willow's legs together.

Then Cordelia lowered herself onto Willow. Their cunts melted together, their breasts squeezed close, and Cordelia started grinding herself against Willow's pussy in a way that Willow could only compare to her hand, in a way that her hand couldn't possibly compare to.

"Uhhh, that's good!" Willow breathed, trying a little to join in how Cordelia bucked against her, but each time being pressed back down against the cold stone by Cordelia's voluptuous body. She wanted to be encouraging: "That's really good, Cordy! I like it a lot!"

She opened her legs wider, stretching her panties out, and when she looked down, she could see her curly red bush mingling with the sleek, sexy arrow of Cordelia's shaven pubic hair.

"I think I've been wanting to do this! I think we've both been wanting to do this!" Willow gasped, her hands digging into Cordelia's perfect ass, which bulged a little but not a lot, which was made for hot pants to cling to every curve of, not like Willow's own ass, flat and boyish—Cordelia's she wanted to spank.

"God, I can feel your clit when we rub together," Cordelia said, grimacing. "It's so weird."

She ground her sex at Willow's, feeling the sweet press of Willow's labia lips to hers, the little tickle of Willow's pubic hair on her own sensitive places, the odd fit of two things so alike and unalike. They rubbed together so smoothly—slipped right off each other, but held onto each other for so long…

Willow's voice was hot panting on the skin of Cordelia's throat. "I'm already coming, Cordelia!" Willow squealed. "Ahhh! Ohhh! Keep going! This is so good! I'm doing it so hard, so big!"

Cordelia shook with lust. She didn't want to drag it out, especially when she wasn't the one getting off. She slapped her cunt against Willow's, slapped Willow against the stone underneath. She felt Willow's clit pulse, so hard it jangled into hers. Christ, it was touching hers. It felt so fucking weird—so fucking good.

Willow squeaked; her quick thrusts almost tossed Cordelia off her climaxing body. The more Cordelia held her down, fucked into her, the more she clenched. Cordelia's own clit was throbbing now, fuck. Sometimes a quick cum was the best.

"Nnnnng!" Cordelia whined, driving herself furiously at the writhing target under her. The connection was so slippery, so electric, that Cordelia could barely keep them joined. The surging of their bodies together fed her craving.

Willow's tensed body finally flattened against the sarcophagus. She laid there gasping. Keeping her cunt tipped up high for Cordelia's pleasure.

"Let me eat you, Cordy!" Willow breathed. "I'll do a good job, I promise, I'm a very fast learner and I've thought about it so much, so much-!"

"Yeah, damn right you're going to eat my pussy," Cordelia said, rolling over onto her back. "You're the lesbo, after all. You'd better do what you're wired for, after I made you come like a broken water fountain, probably just because I'm so hot. A little gay like you can't help yourself when there's a cheer captain on top of you. And fuck, now you get to eat me out! You must've done something good in your past life, like invent plaid…"

All she had to do was open her legs and Willow leaped between them, lapping up the flow from Cordelia's swollen cunt. Cordelia arched her sex up, watching the greedy redhead eat her pussy. Who would've thought the girl dating a werewolf loved kitty so much?

After Willow had lapped and sucked the initial arousal from Cordelia's folds, she turned around on top of the sarcophagus so she was lying backwards on top of Cordelia, positioned for sixty-nine as her silky lips fastened onto Cordelia's clit. The redhead moaned fiercely as she sucked the tender little button into her mouth. Meanwhile, Cordelia stared at Willow's slit.

"Ummm… what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?"


Xander knew this was nonsense. He was used to nonsense, but it tended to be other people's nonsense. Not his friends'. The weirdest thing about his fellow Scoobies was that Buffy was dating a vampire. And ever since Interview With A Vampire came out, apparently that wasn't weird at all. Not like dating a Frankenstein or something.

But now he was watching Cordelia and Willow—two women who got along about as well as Bette Davis and Joan Crawford—and they were getting along. They were getting along well. He would like to get along that well with Cordelia, and he was her boyfriend. Come to think of it, he would like to get along that well with his good friend Willow too, if that was what she looked like in a world where J.C. Penney hadn't been invented.

There were other things he should be thinking. Like the fact that Cordelia was cheating on him, or that Willow was a lesbian, or that they both were lesbians, or that Willow was a big enough lesbian for both of them, or even that maybe he shouldn't be spying on two people having sex. But aside from the vague acknowledgment towards the fact that those thoughts should be present and accounted for—a Drake Equation for lesbian sex thoughts—he really wasn't concerned with any of that.

Instead, and the Drake Equation said this should strike him as really weird, he was filled with confidence. Like the feeling of triumph he'd taken in dusting a vampire with more forehead than Christina Ricci, but multiplied a hundredfold. It was unshakable confidence, bordering on arrogance, a kind of self-esteem that Xander was altogether unused to. So unshakable, that even realizing his usual lack of self-assurance didn't put a dent in it. And it was telling him that these women would absolutely buy that three was company.

Hell, that four was company, if Buffy were around…


Hands reached through the breach in the crypt's doors, removing the locking bar from its brackets, then opening the door. His long, lean body appeared there, totally nude, his cock standing up and out with precum already leaking from its tip.

Standing next to the sarcophagus, he gripped Willow's hips and found her sex with his prick. "Mind if I play through?" he asked, fucking his monstrous cock into Willow, making the redhead cry out against Cordelia's womanhood.

"Mmmm, fff, ohhh, gosh!" Willow managed, defying the grinding Cordelia was doing with her pussy against Willow's mouth.

Cordelia looked up at his cock. She hadn't gone down on Xander enough times to recognize it by anything but size—if she were a better girlfriend, maybe she'd mention that he was packing better than most of the football team—but the lame joke was hard not to recognize. "Oh, I cannot believe you're cheating on me!" she crowed as Xander thrust into Willow, his scrotum slapping against Cordelia's face.

"Hey, you're the trendsetter," Xander told her. "And you're always saying how we never do anything fun together."

"Yes, fun, not Willow!" Another pumping motion and Xander's balls flew into her eyes. She shut them tightly, but felt the moistly sweaty skin rubbing against her face as he fucked the redhead.

"Willow's fun," Xander protested. "You might even say she's open to new experiences."

Cordelia opened her eyes and saw Xander's thick shaft disappearing into Willow's snatch again. This close, it was like watching it on an IMAX screen. "Well, she's not being much fun now!" She reached down to rustle Willow's hair. "Get back to sucking my clit. If Xander can find it—" And he was, regularly, right in front of her, "—then you can too!"

"Uhhh, ohhh, whoa, Xander's so deep, I didn't know it could go this deeeeep!"

"Make me come, Willow, or I'll make Xander take his cock out."

"How will you do that?" Xander asked smugly, savoring Willow's tightness as he pistoned into her.

"I'll let him put it in me," Cordelia replied, even more smug.

Xander had to admit, that just might work.

Willow knew him well enough to realize the same. "I bet no one else realizes they're bi this way," she moaned, her lips wrapping around Cordelia's staggeringly erect clit.

"Uhhhhh, my clit feels—you're making my clit-!" Cordelia shook her head. "Suck my clit, Willow, yes!"

Willow kept her mouth glued to Cordelia's twitching clit, Cordelia whimpering with relief, Xander grinning down at both of them as he fucked himself in and out of Willow. He'd joined them on top of the sarcophagus, kneeling on its lid with them, and was now hunched over Willow's cunt and Cordelia's face as he threw himself into Willow.

"So fucking tight!" he groaned. "Hold your ass still, Wills, let me fuck it!"

Willow lifted her mouth from Cordelia's cunt, her expression twisting with passion as Xander jammed his cock into her. Her modest breasts jiggled deleteriously with each hard jab of Xander's prick, and for once Willow didn't wish she had a bigger cup size. She loved the way they just flew, virtually weightless at the end of Xander's thrusting.

"Damn good pussy, Wills," Xander chuckled. "Nice and tight. Just enough room for my cock."

"Fuck her good and hard, Harris," Cordelia breathed, panting hard now as she stared at Willow's cunt taking him. "Fuck faster! Make her come! Fuck a big load of cum up in her cunt. Fill it all the way up. Oz doesn't give her nearly enough hard cock. He can't get it up. She sucks it and plays with it and rubs her tits on it, but he can't even come!"

What the frack? Willow wondered, but unable to care too much as Xander fucked her harder, fucked her faster. Then drove deep inside her and held still, taking Cordelia by the hair and dragging her to his balls.

"Suck them," he growled. Cordelia was too into it to resist. She opened her mouth, popped them inside, almost gagged on them, sucking his scrotum as she lashed his balls with her tongue.

Willow sat up, now kneeling with her thighs straddling Cordelia's face, still intimately connected to Xander. She spoke to him over her shoulder. "Would you like me to suck them too?" she asked.

"No," Xander said, and put his hands on her hips. He actually jerked her whole body back, moving her back and forth on his stationary cock, fucking her slender body on it as if she weighed less than nothing. "I want you to fucking come."

That, ironically enough, ended up being like pulling a finger out of a dike. "Uhhhh, fuuuuck!" Willow wailed. "Yes, yes, Jesus, I can feel you coming! You're coming inside me! I'm coming! I'm squirting!" Cordelia saw Willow's buttocks clench, then it was like someone had poured a glass of water out on her belly. Warm water. "Oh fucking shit sonuvabitch! My lady parts feel nice!"

"Redheads!" Xander grunted loudly, and finished in Willow's pussy, his cum filling her, overflowing from her, running down to wash over Cordelia's face.

She came too. Peer pressure.

Xander pulled out of Willow, prompting another wave of his seed to flow out of her and onto Cordelia's clavicle, and he slapped his slimy cock against Cordelia's face. "Clean me off," he said. "I know you wouldn't want this dirty the next time you give me a handy."

Cordelia felt a momentary disgust pass through her as she looked at the sticky mix of Willow's juices and his own cum that was dripping from Xander's cock. It was followed by curiosity. Then, excitement.

She lapped along his soaked prick, gathering up every bit of the two delectable tastes. She clenched when Xander jerked her mouth open and stuck his cockhead between her lips, and gave him the lingering wet kiss she knew he wanted, playing her tongue over the deep cleft at his tip.

Cordelia decided to give him a real treat then. She tried to stuff the tip of her tongue down his slit. It wasn't possible, but it gave them both a hell of a charge in the attempt.

Her reward was a mouthful of cum.

Xander came again, right down her throat. Cordelia choked and sputtered, but didn't try to get away. She swallowed as much of his seed as she could, and what bubbled back over her lips she rubbed into her skin with her hands. She thought vaguely that now that she was wearing Eau de Loser, she'd probably have monster skanks all across Sunnydale trying to grind on her, and then she felt Willow rearranging herself to spoon, to fucking spoon with her. Not that she thought anything of it. Mostly she just thought of ways to get more cum.

"Can I help clean?" Willow asked all chipper, looking up at Xander with her big puppy dog eyes. "I mean, if there's enough to go around…"

Xander took one look at her, pulled out of Cordelia's mouth, and aimed himself at Willow. A few jerks and he'd come a third time, showering Willow's face until it was a mirror image of Cordy's. A rope of cum striped Willow's left cheek, while a thick geyser burst off the cute little bulb of her nose and clogged her flaring nostrils. A final wave of jism spurted all the way up into her right eyebrow, then cascaded down her eyelid and over her cheek.

Willow had never felt so completely soiled, so utterly defiled. She had never imagined it was possible for a girl to feel so dirty.

She wondered if Xander was doing anything Friday.


They stumbled out of the crypt together. Cordelia wore Xander's jacket, thanking God and all the saints that while he might not be brawny, he was tall. His jacket came down to her thighs.

"So is this a Betty and Veronica thing?" Xander asked. "Am I Archie? I was always more partial to Jughead…"

"I think you could pull off Archie," Willow said encouragingly.

"Thanks, Will."

"First Scooby-Doo, now Archie Comics?" Cordelia asked. "Can you guys relate anything that happens here to something from this millennium?"

"What if I'm Gilligan," Xander said, "you're Mary-Ann, and you're Ginger?"

"Why would you want to be Gilligan?" Willow asked. "He keeps them from getting off the island. Being Archie was working out for you."

"Not sure I could handle the responsibility."

"Hey guys," Buffy said. Cordelia tried not to ignore that in her leather jacket and miniskirt, they had a twinsies look going. "Scratch one Monistat demon."

"Is that really its name?" Cordelia asked.

"Weird coincidence. How'd you guys do?"

"I, uhh," Xander began, suddenly wondering how pocket tissues and a little of the girls licking each other's faces did at removing evidence, especially when it came to Slayer senses. "I staked one."

Willow put her arm around his ribs. "He staked a lot tonight." If she realized the double entendre, her sunny smile showed no sign of it.

"That's great," Buffy said, smirking. "It gets kinda fun, doesn't it? Patrolling."

"Oh yeah," Cordelia said. "I love being mauled, having some monster dick in my face—"

"A monster dick?" Buffy interrupted.

Cordelia colored. "You know… a dickish monster. A monster who's a real dick. Like you never make quips?"

"I try to keep them a little more tasteful. Than a monster dick," Buffy said leadingly.

Willow broke in. "She's right, though. It can be kinda scary… having dickish monsters all over you. Being dicks… about it."

"I suppose that part's as fun as you make it," Buffy replied. "Faith really loves it. Others not so much. Like Willow, I wouldn't figure you for the type who likes it."

"I like trying new things," Willow said. "Or old things. I can like more than one thing."

"Xander, how's your thing?" Buffy asked.

"My what?"

"You know, whatever you're into now. Working on hot rods. Pumping irons. Whatever guys do when they're alone." Buffy looked between Cordelia and Willow. "Has Xander showed you two what he does when he's alone?"

"Uh, no, no—"

"As if!"

"Too bad," Buffy said. "I'd love to see it. Anyway, it's getting late. I think we've had enough staking for one night."

"I could stand a little more," Willow said under her breath.