Title: 57. Phone Encounter
Disclaimers: Buffy & Co. belong to Joss Whedon, Kazui, Fox, etc.
Spoilers: Season Six
Distribution/Archive: Ask first.
Summary: Prompt from the smut_69.
Thanks to gileswench for the beta.
“She’s asleep,” came the soft, sweet voice across the phone line. “Finally.”
“Good,” he responded. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” she said quietly. “So much. When will you be home?”
“Tomorrow,” he promised. “Tomorrow.”
“I want you here now.”
“I know.” He paused. “Tell me, darling. Where are you?”
“I’ve just closed the door of our bedroom,” she replied, her voice breathy. “I’m standing at the foot of the bed.”
“Are you naked yet?’
“I can be.”
“Yes.” He waited while she put the phone down to disrobe, listening to the soft sound of her clothes rustling. He heard the plasticky sound when she lifted the handset again and smiled.
“I am now,” she said, and he could hear her arousal in her voice.
“Lie down on the bed,” he instructed, doing the same in his hotel room a thousand miles away. “Now touch your face,” he told her, “softly, with just your fingertips. Feel how soft your skin is, and pretend it’s me touching you.”
She gave a ragged sigh. “I love how you touch me,” she confessed.
“Draw your fingers down,” he said, placing his own free hand on his chest and scratching at the hairs the way she always did. It didn’t feel quite the same without her fingernails, but it was a reasonable approximation that would satisfy… for now. “Touch your nipples. Roll them, pinch them, make them hard.”
She gave a sound of pleasure as she obeyed his orders, a soft moan that thrilled him. “That’s nice,” she whispered.
“Lower now,” he instructed, his own hand moving down his abdomen as well. “Touch your stomach, your thighs. Not your center, though – not yet.”
She whimpered at his denial and he smiled wickedly, the very vivid image of her touching herself foremost in his mind. God, she was exquisite. “I can’t wait to be back with you tomorrow,” he said as he stroked his stomach and visualized her stroking hers. “I can’t wait until I can touch you, tease you, taste you. I’ve been away too long.”
“Yes, you have,” she agreed with a wry twist to her breathless voice. “Giles, please!”
He chuckled wickedly. “All right,” he said softly. “Spread those delectable thighs and touch yourself. Tell me; are you wet?”
“Oh, god,” she moaned, very real pleasure in her voice. “Oh, god, I’m soaked. How do you do this to me?”
“Practice and skill, darling,” he teased her. “One finger now. Inside.” Her soft intake of breath told him she had obeyed, and he allowed her to add another, to stroke herself the way he would stroke her. As he drank in her sounds of pleasure, he wrapped a hand around his cock. It was already hard and weeping for her, the shaft extended to its full length in a graceful arc over his belly.
“Feel me inside you,” he ordered as he stroked himself. “Feel how hard you squeeze me, how deep I fill you and how wide I stretch you. Do you feel me, Buffy?”
“Oh, God,” she panted. “Oh, it’s so good. Please, Giles, please!”
“Not yet,” he said gently. “Not yet. Slow and easy now.” He stroked himself rhythmically, finding a counterpoint to her little moans and whimpers that pleased him, reaching down every so often to fondle his balls. “Oh, Buffy,” he said tenderly, “I can feel you wrapped around me. God, your body is exquisite. To be buried in you, to use you and allow you to use me, oh, God, Buffy…” His voice trailed off as his hand began to move faster.
“Please, oh God, please, Giles, it’s so good, I want to come for you, please!” she whimpered, the strain of keeping her voice down making it shake. “Please!”
“Yes, Buffy,” he said hoarsely. “Now. Touch your clit, stroke it, come with me, come with me now!”
She dropped the phone, muffling her cries by biting down on the side of her hand, but he could still hear them as she came and he came as well, his pleasure spurting out over his hand, his chest, and the cool, clean hotel sheets. He, unworried by sleeping sisters in the next room, was free to voice his pleasure and he did so, crying out her name as he came.
When it was over, she picked the phone up again and he could hear the exhausted satiation in her voice when she spoke again. “I love you, Giles,” she whispered, and he thrilled to the words.
“And I love you, Buffy,” he whispered gently. “Sleep now, love. I’ll be back in your arms tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait,” she said simply, and with a soft click, the line disconnected.
He reached over to hang up his own telephone, and with a soft sigh, stood and went to the bathroom to clean himself up.