"Is that all you've got?" Giles taunted as he brought his staff down for another strike at the Slayer.
Buffy deflected the blow with her own staff, pushing back at the Watcher and spinning out of his range. "Hardly," she grinned, facing him again and twirling her weapon with a flourish. Her slight hands, nails painted candy pink, handled the staff deftly. In any other moment, one would not think those hands possessed such strength, but in the middle of a sparring session her power was made quite obvious.
He gave a long-suffering sigh as he assumed a defensive stance. "I-it's not the intention of my training to get you to show off for the enemy."
"Oh I know," Buffy said casually as she stalked forward. "I just like showing off for you. But I don't have to."
Giles saw that devious glint in her eye and knew all too well what it meant, the realization coming too late for reaction. Buffy landed a roundhouse kick straight to his chest and the Watcher toppled backward onto the library floor, dropping his weapon in the process. She was atop him in the next moment, her lithe muscled thighs straddling him just below the waist while she held her staff to his neck.
"Well," he struggled to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him, "I think that's it for today's training."
Buffy wasn't so sure. She kept him pinned and didn't seem like she was about to let up. Giles frowned. He outweighed her, was one of the Council's most skilled fighters in close combat, and if she were a normal girl, there'd be no question that he'd be able to overpower her. But she was the Slayer, imbued with supernatural strength and ability all because of her destiny. She could hold him down indefinitely if she so chose, and there was little he'd be able to do about it.
"You can let me up now, Buffy," he said with just a hint of annoyance, his chest still heaving from exertion.
"I don't know if I can," her blue eyes shone with a spark of something dangerous, a wild glint that excited the Watcher even as it reminded him just why he shouldn't allow himself to get into this sort of position. "I think I have you right where I want you."
Good lord, was that a trace of lust in her voice? Giles tipped his head back on the carpet, staring at the ceiling. Certainly this wasn't happening, not here. "Buffy," he tried an authoritative tone, which didn't seem to be as effective when he had a large wooden staff shoved against his windpipe. "I've, ah, I've told you before, we... this isn't appropriate in the least." He thought he sounded diplomatic enough, but the stirring in his tweed trousers was betraying him.
Giles had known for some months that his Slayer had developed something of a little crush on him, and at first he'd been flattered. Of course, he rationalized, it wasn't uncommon for young girls to become enamored upon an authority figure in their lives – a teacher, coach, even a Watcher were all fair game. They spent so much time together, not the least of which were generally in highly emotionally charged situations, so it wasn't really unexpected. Frustrating, but normal. He'd done his best to ignore her advances when they were little more than innocent flirtations, but over time they'd grown to be less innocuous and more troublesome. Only a few weeks ago he thought he'd put an end to her games once and for all by telling her in no uncertain terms that she was out of line, but apparently he had misjudged her tenacity. She'd only waited for him to fall back into his comfort zone, and now she was poised to start in all over again. The sad part was that he was almost enjoying it. Well, he certainly was on a physical level, but that was something he couldn't help. It was the mental aspect that bothered him, that perhaps his arm could be twisted into acquiescing to this girl's advances if she remained as constant in her pursuit as she'd been thus far.
"I don't care," Buffy said with a seriousness that trumped his own. "I'm not going to let you ignore me anymore, Giles."
Huh. Was that a threat? Giles' eyebrows furrowed and he tried to raise himself on his elbows but Buffy pressed down on his neck again and he fell back limply to the floor. "At least get rid of that bloody stick if you insist on doing this. It would do wonders for my patience not to be choked at every turn."
Buffy thought about his request for a moment, but ultimately indulged him. She tossed the staff to the side, and instead held him down by the shoulders.
Giles reached up to rub his neck, turning his head back and forth as if to explore the new range of motion he had been afforded. It was certainly easier to breathe now. "Good to know I can still appeal to reason with you," he offered sarcastically, "perhaps now you'll end this foolishness and let me up?"
Buffy only brought her face closer to his in response. He could feel her warm, sweet breath upon his cheek and it wasn't an altogether unwelcome sensation. In fact, it was quite pleasant to be trapped under this girl but he knew he shouldn't be thinking like that.
"Have you even been listening to me at all?" she whined, and Giles was taken aback. She was clearly upset that he still wasn't taking her advances seriously, but he'd expected anger instead of the more childish display she was now putting on, pouting and searching his eyes with her own.
Then she ground her hips into him and with a sharp inhale, he realized that no, she wasn't a child crying for attention but a young woman starved for affection. A young woman that wanted him unfailingly and he came to the conclusion that he no longer could ignore that, and as much as the logical side of his brain screamed at him to see her as the teenager she was, her movements were quickly casting a cloud over that logic and obscuring it from consideration.
His hands went to her hips in an effort to still them, if only to get his bearings. Buffy seemed pleased enough to feel his hands upon her that she stopped, and smiled down at him. Giles felt dizzy.
"Yes, I-I've, ah, been listening," he stammered, his attention growing increasingly distracted by her position atop him. In the quiet of the library he could hear how her breathing had changed, had become faster and more shallow and Giles was versed enough in the cues of excitement to realize that she was getting at least as much out of this as he was. Perhaps more, he thought as he saw her eyelids flutter half-shut when he began to run his hands up and down her sides. He hadn't even consciously meant to, just started doing it out of... what? Habit? He'd never done this to Buffy, although having a woman straddling him must have awakened deeply rooted muscle memory, an almost reflexive reaction to the imposed intimacy of the situation.
"Don't fight it, Giles," she purred, slipping her small hands over his and guiding them across her stomach, up to cup her breasts.
He was hopeless. Going against everything he knew to be just and right, he didn't take his hands away. Buffy arched her back, forcing herself even more into his grasp and he moaned despite himself. Absolutely shameful. But he couldn't stop, not now, he'd fallen prey to her at last and he was helpless to extract himself from the situation.
He barely noticed that her hands were no longer on his, and he was touching her, caressing her budding breasts of his own volition, brushing his thumbs over taut nipples that he could feel even through layers of shirt and bra. It was her turn to moan, his touch had incited her passion further and he knew he'd crossed the line. There was no turning back from this impropriety now, but he didn't care, he was addicted to her and to the way her body felt under his rough hands, the way she responded so easily to his touch. It was intoxicating, and his logic was failing him. Why did he need to resist her when she was so utterly willing?
"Buffy," he groaned as she once more began to move her lower half so seductively against his straining erection. "God help me, you're beautiful."
She blushed at his praise as much as at the way his hands felt upon her, and she allowed herself to revel in the victory she'd won. She'd broken down his barriers, gotten through to him somehow, and she could feel how much he wanted her. There was a certain sensation of power in that, power over him because now he'd been bent to her whims and she was going to take full advantage of that.
"I need you, Giles," she whispered as her hands fell to his belt buckle.
"Anyone... anyone could walk in," he breathed heavily, watching her undo his belt and then start in on unbuttoning his fly.
"They won't," she said sweetly, though there was no way she could know that. She dipped her head to find his lips, pressing urgently against him. After a moment, he returned the kiss with just as much passion, slipping his tongue between her eagerly parted lips. Still, he remained caught up in his thoughts.
It would be the end of his career if someone did stumble upon them like this, both careers really. He was sure the Council wouldn't approve of his weakness any more than the school. At that moment, however, the very real danger didn't seem to matter. He could think of only her - his Slayer, his charge, and now, apparently, his lover. She had overwhelmed his senses, made him dumb with lust and yet, somehow, it didn't feel at all like a bad thing.
She broke the kiss and hitched his trousers down his thighs, pulling back the elastic waistband of his boxers to reveal the hardness that had been lurking under the fabric all this time. Giles smiled, almost apologetically, as if he shouldn't have allowed himself to become excited under her ministrations. But that's exactly what she'd set out to do, and she was more than happy to see his desire confirmed in the flesh.
"I can't help but feel that, ah, that this is a little unfair," he shifted under her, "I'm exposed and yet you're still fully clothed." His hands snaked back down to her hips, his fingers hooking into the waist of her jeans.
Buffy shuddered at his tone more than his hands, elated that he wasn't going to leave her to do it all herself. "Then help me out of them," she said as she raised up on her knees, giving him easier access to the front of her pants.
Given permission, Giles was more than eager to undress her. His hands moved deftly over the button, and soon he brought down the zipper, parting her jeans and brushing his fingertips over her panties. His breath hitched in his chest as she aided him by wriggling and tugging her jeans down her legs, taking her underwear with them. His eyes were fixed on the light dusting of blond hair just above her pubic bone, and while he was entranced, she managed to free herself completely of the garments and cast them aside. She eased herself back down to sit on his legs, and he found himself exploring the newly revealed flesh. His hands glided over the swell of her hips, down her thighs, her lightly tanned skin silky smooth and warmer than he'd expected.
Buffy was watching him with barely contained anticipation, her pulse quickening as his hands moved up to stroke her inner thighs, edging ever closer to her most private place. However, he passed that over and instead regained his grip on her hips, urging her to move forward. Her head was swimming, Giles wanted her and she could see it the way he looked at her, his green eyes glossy with lust, his intent made clear by the way he was pulling her toward his cock. This was what she had wanted for so long, to indulge her passion but not simply that... she wanted more than casual sex, more than just him humoring her advances and letting her get away with something naughty. She wanted to make love to him, she needed Giles to want her just as she burned for him, and now she was finally certain that that was the case. She'd never seen such longing in his eyes as she did in that moment.
"Giles," she whispered as she curled her fingers around his stiffened member. He looked at her expectantly, struggling to keep himself from thrusting into her hand, though the sensation of her soft fingers clutching him firmly made that quite difficult.
"Buffy," their eyes were locked, surveying each other as though waiting for a sign. "I need... need to be inside you," he groaned.
The Slayer swallowed hard, hearing him say such a thing affected her deeply. She was already wet for him but she felt a new rush of warmth to her groin and she nodded, hovering over him and guiding his cock to her entrance.
Giles reminded himself of her age, and her relative inexperience. It would not do well simply to force himself inside of her, as much as he wanted to do just that. This required patience, he had to proceed delicately and keep his own arousal in check lest it overtake him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, he wanted this to be everything she needed of him, and above all he wanted it to be good for both of them. He let her take the lead for now, holding her hips but not exerting any downward pressure. He'd been watching her face up to this point, but now he broke her gaze and watched as she began to lower herself slowly onto him.
Buffy gasped as she felt the head of his cock slip within her, she was slick with arousal and that made it easier, but it was by no means free of discomfort. It wasn't just pain though, the sensation mingled with a carnal pleasure to become something she'd never before felt, an intense experience and she craved for more.
She was so tight, Giles' head was reeling from the way her inner walls squeezed his member, it was exquisite and she was warm and wet around him and he couldn't get enough of it. He let out a guttural cry as she moved again, taking him yet another inch deeper; even with how wet she was there was still a great deal of friction, her tight canal was stimulating him almost too perfectly. He had to work to calm himself, the way his Slayer was impaling herself upon his cock threatened to make him come with embarrassing swiftness. Giles didn't want to do that to her, he was devoted to seeing her find release first, his own desires were secondary. He could feel her throbbing around him already, small contractions that only made him wonder what it would be like to get her to climax while he was plunged deep inside of her.
He was aware that she'd stopped moving, and he shook himself free of his thoughts. "Are you all right, my dear?"
"Mmm," Buffy offered in response, drunk on the sensations he was providing her with as well as the idea that it was her Watcher penetrating her; Giles, who had always been so stuffy and reserved and anything but indecorous, was making love to her with such understated passion, with such gentle care and kindness. It was a supremely erotic realization to her, and it made her want him even more.
"We can stop if it hurts."
"No," she breathed, unwilling to end this encounter even if she did feel pain. Right now, the discomfort was manageable as it did not exist alone, but was accompanied by pleasure orders of magnitude higher than anything she'd been able to do for herself. Even with just a few inches of his thick hardness buried within her, every small movement she made caused it to graze along something inside of her, some sort of central cluster of nerve endings that seemed to exist purely to send waves of luxurious heat through her body upon stimulation. She'd never felt anything like it, though she thought that must have been because she had never been much for fingering herself, even during particularly intense fantasies.
Giles was selfishly pleased that she wanted to continue, he couldn't imagine stopping now, though of course he certainly would have had she requested it. He was hungry for her, he needed to feel more of her and they hadn't even yet struck up a suitable rhythm. He knew it would take a moment for Buffy to adjust to accommodating him, but he was greedy for her nonetheless.
His patience was rewarded in due time as Buffy took a few calming breaths and subsequently brought herself down upon the remainder of his length in one fluid motion. A strangled cry escaped her lips and she pitched forward, clinging to his shirt as she laid on him, her face nuzzling instinctively in the crook of his neck as she sought out comfort. He wrapped his arms about her, brushed her hair from her cheek and tried to act as soothing as possible, while his cock ached to begin thrusting now that he was completely enveloped in her.
"Are you certain you want to go on?" He had to ask again, as much as he hated to because it left open the possibility that this glorious entanglement of their bodies might end, his conscious demanded that he ask.
Giles felt her nodding against his shoulder and he freed one hand to cup her face, tilting her head up so that he could look at her. "Nobody would blame you if you needed to stop, you know."
"I want to... do this," she said needfully, and as if to punctuate her decision she rose up into a sitting position again and rolled her hips forward. That movement elicited a heated moan from Buffy, and Giles was much the same, gritting his teeth as if to stem the passionate noises that issued forth. She was moving awkwardly now, trying to set a pace but with little notion of how to go about doing that.
Giles placed his hands on her hips again, it was becoming a familiar gesture for him but now he was going to use the leverage he had for practical purposes. He took control of her rocking, guiding her into a rhythm he thought they'd both find appealing – not too fast or rough for her, and yet not achingly slow for him. Finally he allowed his own hips to move in time with hers, complimenting her motions and adding to the friction between them.
She seemed to tolerate this new procedure quite well, and Giles was emboldened enough to push for a slight increase in speed. It was just enough to make a difference, and Buffy began trembling atop him, writhing with an agitation that told him she was getting close. He wasn't very far from release himself, his Slayer took direction very well and her movements along with the tightening of her inner walls was driving him quickly to the point of no return.
Giles needed to make sure she came first, wanted to feel her orgasm as it took her, and so he slipped a hand down from her hips, sliding his fingers between her legs. His fingertips brushed along her wet, velvety folds, distended from his cock, up until he felt what he'd been searching for, nestled at the top of her vulva. He rubbed small, gentle circles into her clit with his thumb and the response was more intense than he could have hoped for.
Buffy cried out his name, her voice thickened by lust and her impending climax, her thrusts against him becoming more animalistic at the sudden spike in sensation. He pressed his thumb harder against her sensitive bundle of nerves, needing to get her off before her frenzied response got the best of him. It didn't take much more, though, and soon he felt her walls spasming around him, and Buffy was shaking, still moving atop him as she rode out her climax. Giles' head fell back with a low grunt and soon he, too, was caught in the throes of release, her contractions milking him of one of his most intense orgasms in recent memory.
She collapsed on top of him, her body shuddering even as her inner spasming began to wind down. Giles stroked her hair, working hard to catch his breath in the aftermath of such a wholly satisfying experience. He held her, pressing small kisses to her forehead, until she calmed fully. When Buffy looked up, she appeared to be in a daze, it was clear that she was caught in the afterglow of coitus and Giles felt a strange sense of pride in having been able to affect her so thoroughly.
"How are you feeling, my dear?" he asked as he caressed the flesh along her cheek down to her neck, in love with the graceful curve he found there.
"Amazing," Buffy breathed, it seemed that the act had only heightened her infatuation with him.
"Ah, well, yes, I-I suppose I can say the same," Giles laughed, flattered at hearing her put it so bluntly, "you're a stunning young woman, Buffy, and while I'm, ah, still not quite sure what I've done to capture your affection so completely," he sighed, "I must say that I feel lucky to have done so. I... don't deserve you, Buffy."
"Oh, Giles," she closed the gap between their faces, leaning her forehead against his. "Don't say that. I want to be with you, isn't that enough?"
He was comforted by her words, and the sweetness of her gesture. She had corrupted his mind entirely, or maybe he was still caught up in the emotions that had been stirred by sex. Whatever the cause, he was deeply considering pursuing a relationship with this girl, despite the inherent difficulties. "We shall see, Buffy," he said with a wistful sigh. The logical part of his brain had intervened, finally, and prevented him from making any promises. Perhaps that was for the best. He knew he needed to think things over, knew that right then was not a good time to be making any rash decisions.
Buffy didn't press him further, instead she simply laid her head on his chest and listened to his heart as it began to return to a normal rate.
Call it a premonition or just a lucky guess, but Buffy had been accurate at least – nobody intruded upon them as they laid together on the library floor. It wasn't long before Giles' back protested and they disengaged from their embrace, hurriedly dressing and making their way out of the school.
Giles drove her home that night, even gave her a goodnight kiss because she wouldn't get out of his car without one. As he watched her walking up the driveway to her front door, he shook his head. What was he going to do about her? He still hadn't the faintest idea how he should proceed now that they had already gotten physically involved. He wanted her, the idea of a relationship appealed to him on some level and yet he just couldn't see how they could make it work. He knew Buffy would at least want to try and he thought maybe, just maybe, he could place enough faith in her to give it a go. There would be time for decision-making later, though, he thought to himself as he pulled out of her drive and navigated the streets toward his flat.
For now, he desperately needed the rest and perspective that could only be found in a good night's sleep.