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Highly Professional Colleagues

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“Hey, England, you busy?”

Giles looked up from the book on his desk to see Jenny standing in the doorway of his office, regarding him with that mixture of adoration and amusement that had grown so familiar to him.

“Not at the moment, but Buffy will be here for training in—” he glanced at the clock above the door—“ten minutes or so.”

She grinned coyly and pulled the door closed behind her, sliding the bolt home with a decisive click. “Oh good. I finished grading a little early and was hoping you could help me with something.”

Before he could even begin to wonder what help the computer tech teacher could possibly need from a Luddite like him, she was in his lap straddling him, her skirt hiked up above her knees, her mouth crushing bruising kisses onto his.

“Jenny—Buffy—soon—her friends—research—” he protested weakly in the moments she came up for air, but his heart was too busy racing with excitement to really be in his argument. Still, she sat back and regarded him with a smile in her eyes as she worried her lower lip in her teeth.

“Well, then you’d better make it quick, Mr. Giles,” she said huskily. “You don’t want to keep your students waiting.” While she spoke, she undid the top few buttons of her blouse with maddening slowness, then punctuated her demand by flicking open the clasp at the front of her bra. Her breasts spilled out into his hands, the silver of her nipple rings glinting at him salaciously.

“Bloody hell…” he groaned and buried his face against the silky skin of her throat. He knew full well he was powerless against her charms, so he’d better make it quick indeed.

Her flesh vibrated against his lips as laughter bubbled in her chest; clearly she could also feel the swiftly growing…situation…beneath her that betrayed his willing complicity in her nefarious plans. Good Lord, he was going to end up deported or on some sort of list if they were caught behaving like hormonal teenagers on school grounds—so best not get caught, his less well-intentioned thoughts reasoned.

He glided his hand along her thigh under the hem of her skirt, trailing further upward where he expected to find her panties, but he quickly discovered she wasn’t wearing any. She was also thoroughly ready for him, and she gave a soft moan when he slid his fingers inside her already sopping cunt. He wondered briefly if she often went bare under her skirts at work, and heat flooded through him at the thought; he made a mental note to take full advantage at the next opportunity if that were the case. He grazed his thumb against the swollen pearl at her entrance, causing her warm walls to shudder around him. She ground her pelvis against his hand, and her breath tickled his ear as she leaned in and gasped, “Fuck me, Rupert.”

He couldn’t obey her fast enough. He slipped his fingers out of her and fumbled at the buckle of his belt with shaking hands; impatiently she undid it for him, unzipped his fly, and guided his aching cock into her. She rode him with reckless abandon, rendering him senseless with every movement of her hips. His glasses had slid to the end of his nose and teetered there precariously, but he couldn’t be bothered to right them. He was too arrested by the sight of her as she took his hand in hers, brought it to her lips, and licked her own juices from his fingers, a gesture he found so incredibly erotic, he almost spent himself instantly.

Somehow he gathered his wits about him, though, and refusing to be taken by her so easily, he clenched her voluptuous bottom in his hands and stood without breaking their momentum, then deposited her on the desk with only half the presence of mind to shove the open book there out of the way to prevent its being defiled. He braced himself against the sturdy wood and pounded away, and she dug the heels of her pumps into the backs of his thighs, both drawing him in deeper and spurring him on.

She grabbed his tie and pulled him down to her so she could kiss him fiercely; his mouth met hers with equal fervor then licked, bit, and nipped his way down her neck to her breast, where he caught one of her silver hoops lightly in his teeth and tugged.

He realized what was about to happen just in time to cover her mouth with his hand; Jenny was always loud when she came, and the last thing he needed was for the entirety of Sunnydale High to hear what they were up to. She sank her teeth into the fleshy part of his palm and muffled her scream of ecstasy into his hand. The pain of her bite merged with the pleasure of her body tightening around him was enough to bring him over the edge with her, and after an instant of intense climax he slumped against her while she clutched him close and stifled her satisfied giggles in his shoulder.

When at last he had caught his breath, he looked up at the clock above the door and chuckled in a self-congratulatory way. They still had a couple of minutes to spare.

Or rather, Giles thought they had, but after he and Jenny hurriedly righted themselves—allowing for several swift kisses between them among the flurry of making themselves presentable, of course—they both exited his office to find the center table in the library already occupied.

Buffy was wrapping her knuckles in preparation for training with the wide eyes of a person who had witnessed too much, while Willow had her face buried in a book deeply enough to hide her expression but not the blush that radiated up to the roots of her hair, and Xander wore a grin that could only be described as coprophagous. Students and faculty all regarded each other with mortified terror for a few seconds that stretched into eternity, the silence only broken when Jenny realized her blouse was buttoned incorrectly and let out a snort of laughter.

While she turned and sashayed out of the library, refastening her errant clothing, Giles fixed them all with the sternest glower he could muster. “Not a word,” he warned, and Buffy just shook her head, her disturbed expression unchanged.

“Not a word,” she agreed.