"Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger!"
Drusilla looked up from her magazine and watched her lover smack his forehead on the desk. "That sounds like fun. We haven't done that for a while," she said with a Cheshire cat grin on her face.
Spike shot her a confused look. "What? Oh...huh? We just did that last night."
"But, that was you doing it to me. I have a new toy...," she sang back, setting the magazine aside to rise and sway towards him.
He snapped back, "I'm not in the mood."
Drusilla began to pout. "It's that awful machine again, isn't it." She eyed the computer hatefully. "It always puts you in a bad mood. And, not the good kind of bad mood where you pin me to the bed and..."
"Drusilla, shut up about sex," Spike interrupted, exasperated.
"You're hateful tonight."
Sighing, Spike turned to see her glaring at the computer monitor, and tried to lighten his tone of voice. "Luv, I'm sorry. You're right. The computer has fucked up again and..."
"I can punish it for you," she broke in, smiling again. "Daddy left his chainsaw behind."
"Um, no, I think that's a bit much."
Her smile turned to another pout and she crossed her arms over her chest. "How long until you fix it? It's morning and I want to...go to bed." One slender finger toyed with the end of the tie on her camisole.
Watching her finger tug lightly at the tie, knowing that one quick pull would spill her breasts from the silk confines, Spike swallowed hard. "Um..." He glanced at his computer, then back to Drusilla, then sighed and turned back to face his demon. "I have to get this working again."
"You love that thing more than me," Drusilla wailed and fled from the study. Spike sighed and rebooted the computer.
Two hours later, tired, frustrated, but slightly relieved that things seemed to be functioning again, Spike walked into the master bedroom to find Drusilla lying on the bed, naked, one hand moving quickly between her splayed legs. A twinge of lust shot through him, and he adjusted his sudden erection. As he walked to the bed, hands reaching for the buttons on his jeans, Drusilla shot him a look, her hand never stilling.
"Huh? Pet," Spike wheedled.
She turned her head, rolling her body onto one hip facing away from him, as a moan of pleasure broken from her lips.
"Fine, I'll just jack off," he growled in response.
"Don't you dare," she gasped out. "You have been a bad boy and are not allowed to come."
"Drusilla, I'm not a child to be punished..."
Her deadly look shut him up, and he rolled his eyes, then plopped down in a chair, trying to will away his erection. The scent of Drusilla's arousal, the sight of her caressing herself, wasn't helping. Finally, with a guttural cry of pleasure, she came, her hips bouncing on the bed. Smiling to herself, she raised her fingers from between her trembling legs and held them out to him. "Lick."
Spike shot her a look of disbelief and rose to his feet, grabbing her clothes from the bench at the end of the bed. Tossing them to her, he picked up a pack of cigarettes off the bureau and lit one. "Get dressed. We're going to Office Depot." Which had been his original plan, derailed for a few moments at the sight of her masturbating.
"Wh--what?" She shoved the dress off of her and reached for a Kleenex to wipe off her hand.
"And, clean up first. You smell like a whorehouse."
"I hate you." Rising to her feet, Drusilla grabbed her clothes and stomped into the bathroom.
"Yeah, yeah," Spike muttered, trying to ignore the way her naked hips swayed, as renewed lust filled him. "Fucking cock, will you fucking obey me?"
Ten minutes later, Spike's cock was under control, two cigarettes were reduced to butts, and Drusilla emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed, an angry glare on her face.
"Why are we going to the train station?" she asked petulantly.
"Not that kind of depot. Office Depot. It has computer parts and programs. I need a new virus protection." He started to launch into a lengthy explanation as to what downloading a demo of F-Prot had done to his computer, but then realized she wouldn't understand a word of it and grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the room.
"Why do I have to go?"
"I'm not about to leave you alone in the mood you're in."
"Spike," she wailed. "It's morning and the sun is being nasty and bright."
"We'll be fine." They entered the garage and he opened the car door for her. She shot him another nasty look before sliding onto the seat. Spike rounded the car and joined her, then started the engine and pushed the garage door opener.
"Isn't it a holiday of some sort? Won't the shops be closed?"
"Not that important of a holiday. Some lame ass one about the founder of America."
"A Viking? Can I get a hat with horns?"
"Not a Viking, luv." He peeled out of the garage. "Some Spanish bloke."
"I don't like the Spanish. They're too...dark." She shuddered delicately and cuddled up next to Spike. He didn't question her sudden mood change, just wrapped his right arm around her shoulders.
Spike parked the car right in front of the office supply store, and they both managed to dash inside without getting singed. He got a shopping cart--naturally one that wanted to go the opposite direction that he pushed--and headed for the computer programs. Drusilla tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and trailed along with him, her eyes lighting on every person they passed.
Fifteen minutes later, Spike was debating over McAfee and Norton, and Drusilla was bored. "Pet, this might take a while. Why don't you go look at something shiny."
She shot him another hateful look, then wafted down the aisle towards the pens and pencils.
Finally, Spike sighed, went eeny meeny miny moe and dumped the winning box in the cart. Since, he was already in the store, he decided that he'd pick up some more disks, another surge protector, the latest Star Wars game, an electric stapler, two pads of neon colored post-its, a Darth Maul screen saver, an upgrade of his financial program, and one of those new, cool gel wrist guards. As he went looking for Drusilla, he passed a stand full of neat looking pens that wrote on dark paper, and tossed a handful into the cart.
Looking down each aisle, he headed for the back of the store. In a far corner, he spotted a familiar crimson dress. His eyes narrowed as he neared her. Drusilla sat on a chair, turning in circles, stopping every time she faced the other way to pat the head of a man slumped in another chair.
The scent of blood spurred Spike forward. "Drusilla," he hissed. She stopped spinning and smiled up at him.
"Do you want to meet my new friend, Bob?"
Spike's horror was only slightly alleviated by the sight of Bob's chest rising and falling. He was only unconscious, with two small holes in his neck that oozed blood. Quickly, Spike looked around for surveillance cameras, then grabbed Drusilla's wrist and jerked her down the side aisle. Stopping in the empty office food aisle, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
"Are you insane?" She gave him a pointed look and he continued, ranting softly. "You fed off someone in broad daylight, in a public place?"
Drusilla reached up and pried his fingers off her shoulder. "You're hurting me." A crafty look entered her limpid eyes. "Let's go find a secluded spot under a desk."
Spike let her go, stepping quickly back, shaking his head as she advanced on him. He bumped into the cart and rebounded into the candy shelf.
"Oooh, peppermints." Drusilla's attention switched to the huge bags of candy, and she picked one up, sniffing the aroma. "Can I get it?"
"What would we do with a ten pound bag of peppermints?"
She licked her lips. "I plan to crush them and smear them all over my body..."
The bag of candy was ripped from her hands and tossed into the cart at the speed of light.
"And, then I'll be all sticky," Drusilla continued. "Someone will have to lick me all clean."
Spike's cock jolted to life again, and he groaned, then grabbed Drusilla's wrist, tugging her behind him as he pushed the cart towards the bathrooms tucked discreetly at the back of the store. Leaving the cart outside, he pulled her quickly into the men's room and locked the door.
"Oooh, it's so white." She swayed drunkenly, then reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it up to her waist. Her legs were encased in black silk stockings, a matching lace garter-belt framing her neatly trimmed pussy.
Spike groaned again and caught her in his arms, kissing her hungrily, while one hand worked at the fastenings of his jeans. Moving her backwards, he pressed her against the wall next to the sink while she squirmed against him.
"Fuck me," Drusilla crooned into his ear before nipping the lobe and driving him even wilder. Spike spun her around and bent her over the sink. Shoving her skirts over her hips as she took hold of the porcelain, he kneed her legs apart. The heady scent of her arousal filled the air, and he groaned again. Cock free of its denim confines, he slammed it into her receptive body.
Drusilla moaned and bucked back against him, taking him deeply, her tight, wet pussy clenching around his aching cock. Spike wrapped his arms around her waist and thrust uncontrollably, a red haze of lust filling his mind.
"Harder, faster, fuck me, fuck me, oh Spike, fuck me baby, fuck me hard," Drusilla babbled, grinding against him, her claws scraping into the ceramic paint. Spike gritted his teeth, feeling his balls tighten and his cock throb painfully. Sliding one hand down her quivering stomach, he delved his fingers into her wet cleft, quickly finding and pinching her clit. She yelped and he rubbed it with his thumb, all the while, slamming his cock to the hilt with each hard thrust of his hips.
Drusilla's babbles died away to yelps and moans as her legs began to shake and her pleasure built. She spread her legs wider, lowering herself horizontally over the sink, forcing his cock to rub the upper wall of her pussy, and sending her swollen cleft banging against the curved edge of the sink. The pain sent a fresh surge of lust through her and she raised one hand to cup her breast, tugging at the nipple through the thin silk of her dress.
Feeling his orgasm approaching in a rush, Spike rubbed her clit harder, coating his fingers with her juices. Closing his eyes, he flung his head back, and bit into his cheek to hold in his ecstatic roar as his orgasm shuddered through him. He slammed into Drusilla several more times, driving her against the sink, until her pussy contracted around him and she keened his name and came.
Trembling, they slid to the floor on their knees, still joined, Spike cradling his lover against his chest.
His senses returning to him, Spike gave himself a rueful shake, and pulled away from Drusilla. Rising to his feet, he pulled his jeans up and refastened them, then helped her stand. As she patted her dress down, he washed his hands and tucked in his t-shirt, hoping he didn't look like a guy who'd just fucked a girl over a sink in a bathroom.
Drusilla smoothed her hair, then smiled as she rubbed her thighs together under her dress. "I'm oozing."
Spike groaned, grabbed some paper towels and cleaned her up as best he could. She leaned back against the wall, legs spread, and moaned as he inadvertently touched still swollen flesh. Finally, both calmer and presentable, they left the bathroom. Amazingly, their cart remained where they'd left it.
Hand again tucked through his arm, Drusilla leaned against him, smiling languidly at the people they passed. Spike focused on the check-out stands at the far end of the store.
"Well, if it isn't my pain in the ass," a cheery voice quipped as they passed the notebook aisle.
Spike groaned, stopped the cart, and turned to face the Slayer. She was with the little witch, apparently buying notebooks with Ewan McGregor's face plastered on them.
"Oh look, Spike, it's the nasty Slayer and her luscious little friend. Hello, little fire girl, would you like to play with us?"
Willow slid behind Buffy. "Um, not right now, thanks."
Drusilla's lower lip jutted out in her normal pout. "We could have so much fun. All that red...sometimes it's lovely to burn."
"Euu," Buffy interjected. "Could you keep your girlfriend from coming on to my friends, Spike?"
"I don't think that's part of the deal."
"What are you doing out in the middle of the day, any way."
Spike gestured to the cart and raised his eyebrows at her.
"Ooh, look, the new Darth Maul screen saver is out. How much?" Willow squealed, coming back out from behind her protectress, lured by computer products. "You have a computer?"
"Yep," Spike beamed proudly. "400 megahertz, 12 gig hard drive, dvd drive, cable modem..."
"A vampire nerd, that has to be a first."
"Buffy, that isn't very nice," Willow scolded. "Come on, I want one of those screen savers." She headed down the main aisle.
Buffy turned to follow her, then shot one warning look at Spike and Drusilla. "Behave."
"Yes, mummy," Spike sneered back, then pushed the cart towards the check-out. "Let's get the Hell out of here before they find Bob," he hissed at Drusilla. "Why the fuck did you eat him anyway?"
"That red shirt. Such a lovely color, red. Blood color. It made my tummy rumbley." She coyly batted her eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry I was naughty. Will you punish me?"
Spike's eyes narrowed and they got in line. "What kind of new toy did you get?"
Her smile widened. "Ooh, I think you'll like it. It comes with straps to hold it in, and is...big...and long...and purrs."
"Maybe you need to wear it for a couple of days."
"Oh yes." She shivered in anticipation and licked her lips. "Maybe chained to the wall?"
"As my princess desires." He started unloading the cart on the counter. "And, we'll see what we can do with these candies, too, hm?"
Drusilla simpered, and Spike pulled out his wallet, removing his credit card--or actually, one of Angel's credit cards. He wondered when brood boy would notice the huge bills Spike was racking up...and just how he could guilt-trip his sire into letting him keep it.
As they were leaving the store, each one carrying a large bag, and prepared to make a dash for the car, they heard the Slayer yell his name.
Oops, Bob must have been found.
Grinning like a maniac, Spike grabbed Drusilla with his free hand and fled the building.