Work Header

The Sexual Adventures of Faith Lehane

Chapter Text

I’ve always been jealous of B’s relationship with her Mom, perhaps because I didn’t have a Mom who acts as a shoulder to cry on, packs my lunch and waits up late nervously as I’m out patrolling. But mainly it’s cos Joyce is so fuckable, with her juicy lips, long blonde locks and major league melons. If she’d been my Mom I’d have been doing horizontal press ups with her as soon as I came out of the womb. Little miss prissy wouldn’t of course. Her relationship with her Mom was sweet and just and pure; worse luck, as it meant I couldn’t touch her for a few nude pics of her Mom for those few nights I hadn’t managed to get myself some company.

I’d been tempted to make a move a few times, but I suspected Joyce wasn’t a girl/girl type and it didn’t seem worth the hassle with B, so make a failed attempt on her Mom. Mind you, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a bit of man meat myself, variety being the spice etc. But to be honest I like to be in control and getting penetrated ‘connotes colonization and aggression’ as I read one night on the Internet. And as far as I’m concerned there should be only one colonizer in any fuck and that’s me.

It had been a quiet night patrolling, so me and B decided to call it a night, her to the loving (but metaphorical) embrace of her Mom and me to watch DVDs on my laptop. If I hadn’t decided to put in Pretty in Pink I don’t think I’d have a sudden urge to google for 80’s retro porn.

Lucky I did and found a free site (double bonus). I looked through a random assortment of images of big haired girls, with large tits and hairy muffs getting naughty in a series of poses, each one categorised under their names. I got to ‘J’ and clicked on Joy Seasons. Well she certainly seasoned me, though I tended to add a ‘ce’ to her first name.

They may have been taken twenty years ago, and not all of them were of top quality (they looked like they’d been taken from film stills), but it was definitely Joyce Summers. A Joyce before she’d got her Milf status, from the looks of her tight, slender body and a Joyce who seemed to be enjoying herself in porno positions with other women. The pics ranged from the relatively tame topless, through her fingering her hairy muff to scenes with her and others planting toys in their own and each other’s holes.

I fingered myself constantly for an hour as I examined the pictures in microscopic detail. There’s something about looking at pictures of someone you know which is an even greater turn on than fingering yourself over a stranger. Finally I knew every inch of the photos, luckily the website had links to buy her old DVDs. What’s a girl to do, but order a couple of copies of each.


A few days after the DVDs arrived I’d come up with a plan to bed Joyce, at least now I knew my initial belief that Joyce was a man’s woman wasn’t strictly true. The DVDs were even harder than I thought they would be – in them Joyce munched rug, took part in orgies, fisted an older woman up her ass (I had to go back and check that there wasn’t any camera trickery for that one – if there was it was well concealed) and had her pussy stuffed by a strap-on, whilst sucking another in her mouth. With a sex life like that, no wonder her and hubby hadn’t managed to last.

I knocked on Mrs Summer’s door, or should I say Ms Season’s and a few minutes later the blonde Milf answered it. For someone who’d been a porn star she was wearing an extremely conservative pair of slacks and sweater. I think my imagination had run slightly ahead of myself and I’d half been expecting her to wander round the house in stockings and not much else.

“Hi Faith,” she said, “didn’t Buffy say she’s away at her Dad’s this weekend?”

Of course she’d said, otherwise I wouldn’t have been round here. However I pulled a face of disappointment, “That’s a pain. I got this DVD I thought she might be interested in,” I reached into my rucksack and pulled out a brown paper bag containing aforementioned DVD, “could you give it her?”

Joyce took it and smiled sweetly, “Of course Faith; what is it by the way? If it’s any good I might watch it with her.”

That brought a vision to my mind, and not a bad one either, now I think about it, “It’s called ‘Seductions in the Lesbian Zone’, great plot, acting’s not to good, well apart from the fucking scenes.”

The smile on Joyce’s face had frozen like a corpse stuck in a snowdrift and she thrust the package back to me like it was going to explode.

I put up my hands in protest, “Don’t worry Miss Seasons, I’ve got plenty more. By the way I loved the scene of you sucking that strap-on; it was damn hot.”

I turned and walked away whistling, leaving a horrified Joyce holding the DVD on her doorstep.


Whilst I waited for Joyce to work out that two and two made four I packed my rucksack with all the things I might need. I have a fine collection of sex toys, even if I do say so myself. However, for Joyce I decided to only go for the best, no point spoiling a decent fuck with shit workmanship.

About thirty minutes later my mobile rang. It was the number of the Summer’s house, which meant that either a very pissed Buffy was home early or Joyce had worked out her math problem. I let it ring for a few seconds, if it was Buffy I didn’t want to speak to her and if it was Joyce, I wanted her to be panicking that she’d misread the situation.

Eventually I picked it up, just before it went to answerphone.

“Faith, it’s Joyce here,” her voice was on the edge of cracking up, and it wasn’t due to the reception.

I put on my most bubbling tone (copyright Buffy Summers), “Hi Mrs S. Did you watch the DVD?”

She didn’t answer, though I could swear I heard a sob, “Faith you don’t mean to show that to Buffy do you?”

“It depends – I’m sure she’d find it…” I struggled for the right word, before settling on, “…enlightening.” I had been going to say entertaining, but Buffy could be so uptight I just can’t see her enjoying porn.

There was definitely a half choked sob from the other end of the phone, “We can come to some arrangement; money – I can right you a check.”

“I get a good wage from the Watchers Council, anyway I like to think I more sensual than materialistic.”

I could almost hear the bulb snap on in Joyce’s brain as she finally worked out what I was looking for. There was another pause, before Joyce spoke again, slowly as she thought through what she was saying, “Perhaps, we could have dinner and come to some arrangement. What about tonight?”

“I’ll be over about six,” I agreed and cut the phone call. There had better be something other than dinner to eat, I thought, or Buffy will be the laughing stock of Sunnydale High.


The door opened so quickly I think Joyce must have been standing beside it waiting for my knock.

“Come in, Faith,” she gave me a welcoming smile, so wide it was easy to forget that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t blackmailing her. However, her clothes made clear that this wasn’t innocent visit between two friends. The blouse she was wearing was unbuttoned further than would be decent in polite company, showing plenty of cleavage and with no bra to support them. The skirt was one I recognised from Buffy’s wardrobe, it was short even on her (which explained why it mainly stayed in the wardrobe) on Joyce it barely covered her thighs and dug deep into her waist.

I passed Joyce my jacket. I’d deliberately gone for a tighter than normal T-shirt, one which accented my nipples nicely. I saw Joyce’s eye fix on them, then she noticed I was watching her and blushed, “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Would you like a drink?”

“You got Scotch?” I asked.

Her eyebrow raised slightly, I was after all under eighteen, but then she nodded. I watched as she walked over to the sideboard, she does have a delicious ass, and poured me a small helping. I gave a polite cough and she added a more generous measure. I’ll say this for her, it was an expensive brand; I sipped the smooth liquid and followed her into the kitchen. From the dishes spread around and the empty packaging, it was obvious that Joyce had gone to some trouble. As she bent over to get something from a lower cupboard, it also became obvious that there was no way I could wait until after dinner. Her skirt had ridden up to reveal, a black sexy thong, dug deep between her cheeks.

Putting the scotch on the table I stepped behind her and put my arms round her midriff. She squirmed slightly and then gave a light squeal as my lips touched on her neck.

“Faith,” she remonstrated. Her hands moved down to unclasp mine, but I held firm, refusing to budge.

“So,” I gently whispered into her ear, “which film did you enjoy making the most?”

There was a whimper from Joyce, but she let go off my wrists. I squeezed tighter, her stomach was firmer than I thought it would be, giving only slightly before I met muscle, she obviously worked out. She was still struggling, but not seriously; I’d met women like Joyce before – she was obviously dying for a fuck, but didn’t want to show that she was too keen. Well, two could play at that game, I thought.

“If you ask nicely, I’ll fuck you later,” I murmured in her ear. My teeth bit down lightly on her lobe.

“Faith… I… I’m not that… this is… I mean…” Joyce stuttered, methinks she doth protest too much.

Especially as she gave a sweet murmur of appreciation as my tongue replaced my teeth on her lobe. I moved the tip around the indentations, from the way Joyce sighed I guess she has an erogenous zone in her ear – which is useful to know. As she shuddered in my grasps, I rub my hands up her midriff, pressing them against her stomach. Then just as she was getting into the groove, I let go.

“Sorry Joyce, I’m stopping you from making dinner aren’t I?” I gave an apologetic grin.

A flustered Joyce turned back to face me, “No… I mean yes… I mean…” she stammered to halt and went red. I just smiled some more and took a seat at the kitchen table.

I was content to just sit their sipping my scotch as Joyce finished cooking. She didn’t say a word, but kept giving little looks in my direction, each time blushing red and turning back to what she had being doing.

“It’s almost ready,” Joyce suddenly announced, still not looking me in the eye, “I’ll bring it through to the dining table.”

I got up and walked into the dining room. As someone who’s main meal is normally eaten from a tray in front of the television I was impressed (and I admit temporarily nervous) by the mahogany table, with the best silverware laid out. Two places were set, opposite each other. I sat down and eased out my foot – the table was the perfect shape.

I decided to make Joyce wait and didn’t molest her during the soup. Instead I deliberately made slurping noises and exaggerated licks of my lips. Poor,Joyce spent almost the entire starter looking into her bowl, every time she looked up I found I had some food on my other lip and wiped it with tongue. And every time Joyce looked at my damp tongue sliding over my red lipstick and blushed.

By the time I’d finished the soup my lips were so clean you could have, um, eaten off them. So when the next course arrived I was ready to move onto the other next course I’d planned. Slipping of my trainers I let Joyce take a few mouthfuls, before I stretch out with one of my feet.

I could tell when it connected with Joyce’s calves, not only by the feel of the luxurious softness of her skin, but also because her fork froze half-way to her mouth, her face taking on the form of a goldfish caught by its owner reading porn mags.

“Anything wrong Mrs S?” I asked mischievously as I rubbed my toes up her leg.

“Er, um, … no F..F..Faith, nothing,” replied Joyce, though her hand trembled so hard the potato fell of her fork.

I grinned. It was obvious that Joyce was struggling with two competing passions – pissed offedness at me for trying to blackmail vs. a deep and compelling need for me to get into her panties, or rather the holes beneath them. I inched my leg a little higher, with the result that the potato dropped again from her fork.

The top half of my body continued to act nonchalantly as I ate at my meal, every now and then making a little bit of small talk on the weather, school work and the latest bargains in the Mall. Joyce didn’t seem to listen, her only answers being sudden muffled shrieks as my leg got a little higher.

By the end of the meal, my plate was clean, Joyce’s less so (and had a fair bit dropped on the tablecloth as well). And my leg was well planted up her thigh and edging towards her forbidden zone. As suddenly as I had planted it I slipped my foot down. For a second a look of disappointment was visible on Joyce’s face, but she quickly looked down at her plate and by the time she came up her expression was back to its rabbit in headlights look.

“W..w..would you like some coffee or d..d..dessert?” asked Joyce.

“Coffee would be great now – can we save dessert for later,” I purred out the word dessert in a sexy moan, suggesting that what I meant was not trifle and cream.

I was expecting Joyce to come back with a couple of mugs, sugar and milk already dolloped in. Instead she returned with two dainty china cups in saucers, a silver jug of cream and, honestly this is true, a bowl fill of sugar cubes with something which looked like a massive nose hair remover to pick them up with. Mind you it was lucky she had the saucers, as even though the cups weren’t more than two-thirds full, she was quaking so much that half the liquid had slopped out.

“Why don’t you sit on my lap,” I patted my thigh invitingly.

Joyce looked at the chair opposite and I thought that I might have to ask another question about her previous career. However, instead she gave a weak smile and sat sideways on me, so that our legs were at right angles.

“Would you like cream and sugar?” she asked.

“Two spoon… lumps and a touch of mil…cream,” I said. As she poured the cream in her legs widened slightly, not much, but enough that I could slide my hand down her inner thigh without forcing it in. I, of course, did this.

One of the sugar lumps dropped from the tongs. There was an apology from Joyce and she picked another one from the bowl dropping it in. She kindly stirred it for me, as my hand crept further up her thigh. By the time she had dropped a touch of cream in her own coffee I was under the skirt. I let her take a sip, before moving higher and brushing my finger against the material of the thong. She had obviously steeled herself, as the squeak was mouse-like. She gave me a weak smile, like a naughty student called in front of principal. And I guessed from the damp patch of the material, Joyce was starting to feel very bad indeed.

Deciding that the evening would be spoilt if Joyce dropped some scalding hot coffee over us, I waited until she had put down the cup. A by-product of that was that Joyce was shuddering in anticipation by the time I slipped aside the thong material with one finger. I moved it around her lips, sometime since her film career she’d decided that bush wasn’t as fashionable as baldness.

“Very nice,” I murmured appreciatively.

“It’s Brazilian,” said Joyce, then she went red, “the coffee, I mean.”

“I know just what you mean,” given my coffee was untouched it would take a Buffylike amount of naivety to think I was referring to hot beverages.

My fingers traced a circle around her lips, as Joyce shuffled on my legs. Her thighs opened automatically, like a bridge as a ship approaches. By the time I got to the bottom there was a trace of jizz on my fingers.

A second digit joined my first, “Are you ready?”

There was no answer from Joyce, she just bit her lip and looked down at my where my wrist was disappearing under skirt. Taking that as assent I plunged the fingers deep into the hole, it was warm and damp. I twisted and twirled them, rubbing at the flesh as I searched for her clit.

Joyce gave a little squeal as I found it. I pushed my fingers hard onto it, she went red, but couldn’t help a moan escaping her lips.

“Faith… don’t…” she muttered.

I started to withdraw my fingers, put an innocent look on my face and asked, “Don’t what Mrs S?”

“Don’t stop…” she murmured.

Luckily for both of us that hadn’t been my intention. My fingers thrust in again, aiming for the spot directly this time. I felt Joyce momentarily lift her weight off me, before landing down with an ‘oh’.

I partly withdrew my fingers, then slid then down again. This time I kept them in place for a few seconds, wiggling the tips over her spot. This seemed to work for Joyce as her head went back slightly and her mouth opened to let out a whinny.

“Better than do it yourself?” I asked.

I withdrew my two fingers, and Joyce looked at me in frustration. She opened her mouth to say something, but I put two juicy fingers to her lips and then added a third, “I think I can fit another do you?”

Joyce opened her mouth, but instead of replying she just licked her own cum of my fingers. Eventually she seemed satisfied they were clean, “O…one more.”

I couldn’t believe she was still nervous, but I pushed in three fingers. Her jump was slightly higher and the ‘oh’ more drawn out as I hit against her clit. I started to work them in and out, not bothering with little tickles, just letting the pressure do the work.

“Oh Faith,” Joyce moaned and then her head slumped onto my shoulder, she bit her lip again and made little snorts through her nose.

She was fairly welling up, with each thrust I seemed to draw out a niagara of cum, which stained my jeans. It was worth it though, as Joyce could no longer keep her mouth closed and instead started to whine and moan, muttering my name between gasps of joy.

I could feel she was on the cusp of completion, when I withdrew my fingers one last time. This time I didn’t give them to her, but stuck them in my mouth. She had a sweet taste, with a slight taste of strawberry (don’t laugh; it’s true). She looked at me in frustration as I sucked my fingers.

“Faith I wasn’t finished,” she whined (a trait she has passed to her daughter, I fear).

I waited until I was sure that there was no taste left on my fingers before answering with a smirk, “I know, neither have I,” and I deliberately took a sip of my luke-warm coffee – it tasted foul.

I put the cup down, “and if you’re good I might finish you later.”

“If I’m good….” Joyce’s voice raised, then she noticed that I was fixing her with a look of steel. She lowered her eyes and apologised, “S.. Sorry Faith, I d..didn’t mean to shout.”

I decided to give her a bit of encouragement, “Anyway the night is young and I don’t want to wear you out before midnight….”

This raised Joyce’s spirits, and when she looked up again, she was beaming and her eyes danced down to my hand, which I had suggestively placed on my crotch.

“You’ve had your fun,” I continued, then swiftly added, “for the moment… Now I think it’s time I had mine.”

I lightly slapped her rump, “Up,” I instructed.

I undid the top of my jeans and then swung, so that I was sitting in line with the table. I raised my legs, “Take off my jeans,” I waggled my legs.

They were tight, but Joyce tugged at them with the strength born of lust. I pulled my panties down my thighs and slid my fingers over my cunt in an inverted ‘V’, “Like what you see?”

There was a nod from Joyce, then she blushed, “Yes, it’s so smooth.”

“I shave every day,” I replied, “now take my panties off – with your teeth.”

Joyce dropped to her knees and put her hand behind her back. Her teeth closed lightly on the hem of my panties and she shuffled backwards, pulling them with her until they slid over my feet. Joyce sat there with the panties still in her mouth, looking all the world like a clever dog with a bone.

“Now eat me,” I withdrew my hands from my slit and placed them on my thigh, “and remember as I know you’ve done this before I expect great things.”

Joyce dropped the panties from her mouth and nodded, “S..s..sure Faith.”

I opened my legs to allow her easy access. She started slowly, and at first, I worried, as she dabbed my lips with her tongue, that she had forgotten her technique. But as the dabs got longer and more powerful I realised that she was an expert. The first sensation drew up in more slowly, but all the more powerful for that. Only after she was sure that I was nice and wet did her tongue slip in.

And then only for a second, I opened my mouth to protest, but my comments died as the tongue dipped in and out for a second time. The damn tease I thought, but if she wanted it slow I wasn’t going to rush her. In she went for a third time, except she stayed longer swirling around my hole and savouring my leaking juices. I let out a brief moan. My hand went to the top of her head and a ran a fine lock of blonde hair through my fingers.

It seemed to take an age before she returned, contenting herself with butterfly kisses on my sodden lips. When she went in though it was obvious that she was here to stay. Her tongue flowed round my flooded cunt, until it hit my clit.

I let out a gasp of ‘That’s it!”

And then as she touched my clit again I decided I’d had enough teasing, I grabbed her head, firmly, but not harshly, to keep her in place. Her tongue beat a staccato tattoo within me. I pushed her deeper, making her dig into me. I could hear the slurps coming from my twat as Joyce took down my juice. Her preparation payed off, as the orgasm was more long drawn out and intense than normal.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I thrust her deeper into me, pushing so that she must have been struggling for air. She didn’t falter, continuing to ram her tongue against my bud until I let go off her head and arched my body, my hands by instinct reaching up to grab at my titties.

“Not bad,” I replied when I regained my composure.

Joyce pouted, “You seemed to like it.”

I gave her a light tap on the head, “Not bad,” I said more sternly.

She took the chastisement, “I’ll do better next time,” she looked at the floor.

The secret of leadership is to mix kindness and severity, so I gave her a beaming white smile, “I’m sure you will Mrs S. Now lets have a look at your body.”

She stood up dropping her skirt to the floor and started to unbutton the front of her shirt. I stood up and reaching my hands to her wrists I pulled them gently, but firmly to her side, “I have a quicker way. I hope this isn’t an expensive blouse.”

I put my hands on the cleavage and tore. With my strength the shirt ripped easily. I dropped the ruin garment to the floor and stood back to admire the view. Joyce’s hands had slipped to cover her thong, which given that I’d had my finger in that hole was taking modesty to a new extreme. Her tits, however, were now bare. They looked even larger in the flesh than they did on film, well over average size and with an lovely bounciness about them.

“Jump,” I said.

“What?” asked Joyce, staying resolutely still.

“Jump,” I repeated. Her feet barely left the floor and her hands remained in place.

“Higher,” It was a bit better effort, at least one hand slightly moved.

“Mrs S, if you don’t start jumping I’m not going to finish you,” I did a Roger Moore like raising of my eyebrow to indicate the seriousness of the situation.

She leapt, her hands flapped out and her tits boinged up and down.

“Again,” I said.

She started to jump up and down, her mammaries bouncing away like a pair of beach balls. She started to giggle and I smiled in return.

“Okay you can stop now,” I said, Joyce was slightly breathless and her face was red with the exertion, “You can see mine now.”

I pulled off my T-shirt and exposed my globes to her nakedly lascivious gaze. They weren’t as large as hers, but they still had my teen firmness. I cupped them in my hand and pushed them up. Joyce licked her lips.

“What do you think?” I asked

“They’re beautiful, so…so… perfect.”

“Well let’s see you get you lips round them.”

Joyce didn’t need to be invited twice. I sat back down as she bounded forward and took my left nipples in her mouth. She poked at it with her teeth and then closed her lips round the teat and started to suck. I gave a moan, as light little sparks exploded in me. After a few minutes she turned and repeated her actions with my right, as I moved a hand to tweak my left nipple prolonging the pleasure she had given me.

As she finally pulled her head away, trailing a light thread of saliva I decided she had got me off enough and now it was time to return the favour.

“You want me to fuck you to completion now, Mrs S,”

Her smile was so obviously wanton, that even if she hadn’t said, “Oh Faith, yes,” and nodded so hard her neck almost cracked, I’d have known she wanted it.

“Lean your ass against the edge of the table,” I instructed and left the room to get my rucksack.

I quickly got out the strap-on and pulled it on. On one side it was ten inches of thick rubber, with grooves and ridges for extra pleasure. Joyce’s hole may not have been virginal, but it would still struggle to fill it. However, the real added bonus, was on my side there was enough dildo to push deep into my hole and ram against my clit, so even as I pumped her I’d be pleasuring myself.

Joyce was waiting impatiently as I entered. She took one look at the cock protruding between my legs and both her mouth and eyes opened.

I ran a hand over the ridges, “Have you never had one this big?”

Joyce shook her head, “N…n…n…no,” then she straightened up slightly, giving me a nervous smile, “I... I’m looking forward to it.”

I moved closer to her. My hand reached down and slid down the thong, Joyce stepped out of it.

“You’re going to enjoy this,” I predicted. My hand reached down again, this time it rested over her cunt lips. I spread two fingers and pulled the hole into an ‘o’. I leant forward and pushed the tip of the cock into the enlarged slit.

“Mmnnnn,” Joyce gave a whimper of pleasure. Her eyes closed and I could feel her hands reach round to caress at my butt cheeks. I stayed in place for a minute, enjoyed the touch of her wandering hands.

“More,” purred Joyce. I thrust the cock halfway in. I could feel her shudder as it pushed at her walls. A thin sliver of juice leaked out, trickling down her pelvis and onto her thigh.

“How’s that?” I asked.

“Good, so good,” Joyce’s voice was soft.

“How’s this?” I pushed the cock in it’s full length, until our bodies were crushed together and I could feel her warm breath on my face. Her eyes opened in shock as she appreciated it’s full size.

“Uuurgghh, good, tight, but good,” she finally managed to say. I let her wriggle slightly to accommodate the cock more comfortably, before I pulled the cock so it was almost, but not quiet out. Then I rammed it in with one fluid easy motion.

Joyce shook with the impact and she let out a cry of pleasure. Her hands clasped tightly at my butt, kneading the flesh between her fingers.

“Ohhhh, so good,” her eyes were looking directly into mine, daring me to thrust faster.

I did so. I felt the table move as it bit into her ass. Joyce’s gave another grasp. I rammed in again and again the table, slightly moved. I had visions of me chasing the table round the room as I fucked Joyce into ecstasy.

That did it. I reached my hands under her thighs and lifted her feet of the ground. It was easy with my Slayer abilities, but I don’t think Joyce was expecting it as she gave a sudden shriek of fear and threw her hands round my neck to clasp on. I paused and she smiled as she became aware that I was still holding her tightly.

“Got you,” I said confidently, “wrap your legs round me. We’ve barely started.”

Her legs clapped round and twisted just above my ass. She pulled herself closer, so that her elbows were gripped in her hands, still leaning on the back of my neck. I could feel my firm tits pushing deep into her more malleable ones.

“Hold on,” I grinned and thrust my pelvis upwards. The cry from Joyce was agreeably loud.

I banged away furiously, ramming in as far as I was able. Joyce was shuddering uncontrollably in my arms, shrieking out “So good, oh Faith, so good,” as if the words were imprinted in her brain. And the great thing was that with every stroke I could feel my own orgasm starting to rise, not as fast as Joyce’s, but still at a gratifying rate.

I might be able to exert myself more than non-Slayers, but I sweat at the same rate. And soon it was pouring down me, leaving rivulets of water against my skin. It wasn’t the only liquid on my body, both me and Joyce was producing copious amounts of jizz, which was dripping down the strap-on and our bodies, to mix with perspiration.

“Oh good, I’m cumming Faith, I’m cumminggggg,” Joyce’s head lashed back like I had punched her in the jaw and she screamed. I could feel her entire body shaking like San Francisco at earthquake time. I barely paused, my own orgasm was well on the way.

I had to steel myself to make sure I didn’t drop her as I came. It exploded within me like a starshell and only by supreme effort did I remain holding her. I sobbed out a stream of ‘Fuck, so good, fuck so good,” Damn Joyce, she’d put her words in my brain.

I stayed still for a few seconds, as Joyce rested her head on my shoulder, whimpering inanely. I left the cock buried deep within her, I hadn’t finished.

“So how was that Mrs S?” I asked with a grin.

“Good, so good,” gasped Joyce into my shoulder.

“You want more?”

“Oh good, yes, oh please Faith, fuck me more.”

I carried her out of the dining room, still impaled, and into the main room. There was a rug beside a mock Tudor fire. Still holding her tightly I gingerly got down to my knees. Then I lay her down on the rug, warning her not to let go off with her legs. She ended on her back, with me on top of her. I think we were both impressed that the dildo was still snugly in her hole, or at least I was.

“Right Mrs S, I’m going to fuck you hard and deep,” I looked down. Her face creased in a smile and her eyes were bright and blue.

“Do me any way you want,” she replied. Her hands, which had fallen to her side, moved up and she clasped her hands together midway down my spine.

The straight up down is much more conservative than standing up, but it certainly less effort. It also meant I could push in that little deeper. As I levered down Joyce’s mouth shaped into an ‘o’ and a blast of spent air brushed past my ear.

“Do me Faith, do me,” at least she’d chosen a new word I thought as I began to slam into her sopping cunt.

I wondered what Buffy would think now, seeing her ‘friendly’ rival on top of her Mom, both our faces contorted in lust, sweating steeping our bodies and our mouths uttering cries of mutual pleasure. The thought drove me to increase my speed, and Joyce cried out louder, “Do me, do me.”

Her orgasm was longer than before, a long drawn out scream of lust, which probably sent any neighbours outside scampering in-doors thinking that the Summers’ house was under attack by a demon. My own, was scarcely less intense and I appreciated the skills Joyce had picked up.

I pulled out the cock and lay beside Joyce as she recovered her equilibrium. To encourage her I lightly squeezed one of her nipples between my index finger and thumb, eliciting a raft of light giggling.

“I’m not even going to ask whether you enjoyed that,” I said.

Joyce nodded, “It was obvious wasn’t it? My God, I don’t think I’ve had an orgasm like that since…” she paused to think, “I don’t think I’ve had an orgasm like that, full-stop.”

“If you want to continue I’ve still got plenty of energy,” one of the benefits of being the (or rather a) chosen one.

I wasn’t surprised that she gave a strong “Yes!”

“Though I’ll want to use a different hole this time.”

Joyce nodded before she realised what I was saying. Then she went deep red, I thought we’d got over that stage, “I…I’ve… never had anything up there. I’m… I’m an…an…anal virgin.”

“For christsakes, Mrs S, you were a porn star,” I was genuinely surprised that she hadn’t been fucked up the ass, not even by her ex-old man.

“It was in the eighties… it wasn’t so…so…common.”

“You’ll enjoy it,” I grinned.

She just bit her lip and relapsed to her deer in headlights look, so I sighed and played my trump card, “Look Mrs S, is that’s hole or no hole.”

Her deer in headlights look became more pronounced, before she gave smile and tried to replace it with a look of determination, “I could try it, I suppose.”

“Attagirl,” I gave her a friendly slap on the midriff, “And I tell you what if by the time I’ve finished you don’t love it, it’ll be front door from then on.” Honestly, my confidence will be the death of me…

“What do you want to do?” she asked nervously, the look of steel hadn’t lasted long.

“Lean against the sofa, over there,” I patted her thigh as she stood up and did as instructed. She bent over and I examined her ass-hole, from the tightness I guessed she wasn’t lying.

“Well if this is your first time, I better prep you, “ I moved behind her and put my hands on her buttocks. The flesh was smooth and I could feel Joyce starting to relax as I gently rubbed my hands over her peaches. Gradually I moved my massages until my hands were cupped over her hole, I grabbed the flesh and pulled.

The ‘oh’ from Joyce was neither pain or pleasure, but just surprise as her cheeks were spread. The second sound she made was of shock and discomfort as I pushed one finger into her ass.

“It hurts,” she wailed as wiggled my middle finger in as far as I could. She was exaggerating I felt, so I gave a little rub and then was a surprised ‘ooh’ from Joyce.

I pulled out, “You’ll get used to it,” I gave her behind another pat. Then I placed my index finger and middle finger together and entered again. Joyce gave a snorting start, her feet leaving the ground as two digits penetrated her.

“Ouch,” she exclaimed, but I ignored her. It was slightly harder to fit in two fingers, but doable. I shafted them back and forth, feeling the tunnel expand to cope.

“Okay, you’re doing well,” I gave her ass a playful smack with my spare hand, then satisfied that the two fingers had done all they could I brought them out.

“One more finger,” I said.

“I don’t think I can take it,” Joyce whined.

“Of course you can, Mrs S, you just need to think positive,” I brought the tips of my index and ring fingers together, with the middle lying on top, so they made a triangle. I pushed at her hole, it wasn’t the most comfortable way to finger someone and I decided to stick to more conventional movements in the future. Though it did the trick in expanding Joyce’s hole and she let out a few gargled gasps, before I came out.

“That looks a lot better,” I said, as I examined my handiwork, where before the hole had been a pinprick, surrounded by puckered flesh, there was now a round, black circle. It would still be tight, and I decided that to be kind to Joyce on her first time we needed lubrication.

“Okay Mrs S, back on the rug on your hands and knees,” I instructed.

“I thought you were going to…to…bang my… my ass,” Joyce moved as instructed, though there was a definite reluctance.

I waggled my strap-on, “It’ll go down better with some saliva.”

“Oh,” she blushed, “I’ve sucked cock before.”

“Thanks for the history lesson,” I responded dryly. Standing in front of her I guided the toy between her open lips. She licked at the tip, then she moved forward. I let her have her head (no pun intended) and watched as she took more and more of the cock in her mouth. She opened stopped when the gag reflex made her reach back and push the toy out with her tongue.

“Sorry,” Joyce apologised, “I’ll be less ambitious.”

“No problemo,” I pushed the cock up to her mouth again. Her lips closed on it and she took it much more gingerly, pushing the end against her cheek, so that she looked like a squirrel hiding a nut. She bobbed back and forth, each bob sending a tiny shiver of excitement through me. I quickly withdrew the cock, I didn’t want to cum to soon, and anyway the dildo was already soaked.

“Can you move your hands and pull apart your butt cheeks,” I asked. She did so as I moved behind, I crouched behind her steadying myself on her shoulder with one hand, whilst I used the other to guide it until the tip of the cock was spearheading her asshole.

I stiffened myself and then struck. With one, slayer, boosted thrust I rammed the cock all the way in her, so that my thighs were connected with her butt.

Joyce gave an almighty scream of, “Faaaiiiiiithhhhhh” and then whimpered. Her arms dropped from her buttocks and she put her hands on the ground, holding her body up in square.

I suddenly had a thought, “Mrs S, can I ask you something?”

Joyce gave a light nod, “Anything Faith,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“Can I call you Joyce, Mrs S seems kinda formal, considering…”

“Sure,” she replied.

That out of the way I began to ratchet back and forth. The cock had gone in so suddenly her butt hadn’t had time to adjust as there was a fair amount of friction as I dragged back, leading Joyce to shout an oath. However, it went easier in and I felt Joyce shudder. The tone of her yelp suggested there was still some soreness and discomfort, but it also told me that she was starting to realise what bum fun means.

I knew I was right, when as I thrust down her ass rose to meet me and she gave a little cry of ‘yes’. I grinned and grabbed her waist, it kept me nicely balanced and allowed me to increase the pace.

Soon I became aware that with every tremble of Joyce a little bit of her cunt juice was dripping out and starting to cause a stain in the carpet. Then she started to cry out in passion, “Fuck me Faith, fuck me, fuck me hard.”

There was no way she could deny she enjoyed it after those quotes. I decided to try some of my own.

“Who’s the Mommy?” I called out.

There was a pause as Joyce let out a shriek of pure lust and then she replied, “You are Faith, you’re the Mommy.”

Correct answer.

“Who’s the Mommy’s butt fuck bunny?” I yelled.

“I am, I am, fuck my butt, fuck me hard,” Joyce screamed.

Two out of three and for the final question, “Who loves being fucked up the ass?”

“I do,” Joyce’s was gasping so hard with pleasure I could hardly make out the words, “I’m your butt fuck bunny.”

Three out of three deserved some special attention. I slipped one of my hands from her waist and went down. Even before I connected a finger to her cunt, my hand was damp from the jizz dripping down. And when my finger went in, Joyce screamed so hard, it was like being next to the speakers at a Heavy Metal concert. Her body bucked in pleasure, slamming back at me and pushing the end of the strap-on deep into my own pussy.

I had to pause in the fucking as I came. I felt my pussy explode in a kaleidoscope of feeling and juice trickled down my leg, to add another stain to the rug. I hope Joyce has a powerful carpet cleaner. Reflex kept me diddling her slit, even as I arched and screamed. Joyce was continually orgasming, and together we sounded like a pair of off-key opera divas, albeit slimmer.

Once I regained my senses I started to bang her again. Suddenly her arm gave way and she fell face down on the carpet. I was about to pause and allow her to get up again, but she just cried, “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.” Hey, what’s a girl to do, but continue.

I slammed into her, the cock slide up her back-hole easily now.

“I’m cumming again,” Joyce screeched and her back arched. More juice flooded from her pussy, leaving my hand as wet as if I’d be running it under the shower.

“Fuck my ass, fuck my ass,” her moans were getting fainter, and I knew she was on the verge of collapse. I redoubled my pounding, desperate to get under orgasm in before Joyce slumped completely. I just made it, even as I arched my back and raised my hands to fondle my suddenly sensitive titties, Joyce legs buckled. She slid from the cock and lay face down on the floor moaning softly.

“Time for bed” I picked her up, cupping her ass in the crook of my arm. She had enough strength left to hook her arms round my neck, holding to me as I picked up the bag of toys and headed upstairs.

I started to kick open the first ajar door.

“That’s Buffy’s room,” said Joyce.

I grinned, there was something emotionally satisfying about having Joyce in her daughter’s bed, “So?” I replied.

“No reason,” said Joyce as we entered.