Chapter Five
Simultaneous heat and shivers washed over every part of Faith. Suddenly she was acutely aware of the moisture beneath her own jeans. Now what? After she came, Buffy's body had naturally expelled the fingers inside of her. But Faith let her hand continue, lightly stroking B, spreading her spent desire over lips and inner thighs. Her other hand was still clamped between Buffy's body and the bed. Faith left it resting there. She didn't want what had happened to be over yet. She knew it would be soon, any second now. But Faith wished she didn't have to let go. She felt the connection to B she always craved, more intense now than ever. The control felt good, Buffy's body felt real good!
Buffy could barely formulate a thought. That had been the most intense orgasm of her life and her first since death. She felt relieved, like she'd purged something. That some mystical anxiety, which had been building since she jumped from the tower, had dissipated and released. Although she'd been in the same position for quite a while now, it was a perfect post-come pose; the bed held the weight of her upper body and arms, she could just be limp. Her knees were her only discomfort after resting on the uneven concrete floor all this time. She'd have to get up soon she supposed but would have been quite content to stay as she was for days. Despite the extent of her orgasm Buffy felt herself becoming increasingly aroused again by the feel of Faith's fingertips tracing patterns on the outside of her labia, an echo of those drawn on her forearm earlier in the evening. Could that really have been this evening? Faith's other hand was resting against her clit, which still tickled. It felt good post-orgasm to have her hand just be there. It was almost a reassuring or comforting feeling - Faith against her body. Not having the wrenching of skin pulled away the minute she'd come. So, reluctantly Buffy said in an exhausted whisper, “Faith? Am I hurting your hand?”
“No Baby. I mean B.”
Buffy smiled to herself, she liked catching Faith being sweet. But had no idea what Faith was feeling - as ever. The pudding feeling in her brain was not allowing her to turn her mind to it at this moment.
“Don't move” Faith said as she removed the hand that was tracing patterns on Buffy's body.
The moment it was gone, Buffy ached for it. But Faith reached over and pulled a regulation prison pillow from the cot. Nudging Buffy to move her knees slightly, she was able to place the cushion under them. Buffy wanted to weep at the gesture. All these weeks of numbness and in this moment she was overrun with feeling.
“B?” Faith's voice was tentative, “Can I ask you something?”
“As long as it doesn't require logical thought or complete uh…sentences, then sure.”
“Why did you flinch earlier when I touched you?”
“I didn't flinch. I, um, shuddered.”
“Yeah, whatever B.”
“No, Faith.” Buffy blushed unsure how much she should say. “You give me shivers…the good kind.” Oh boy! Had she just said that? “I'm having trouble with, you know, words right now but I think you once called it `that deep down low tickle'.”
Faith was silent for a moment. But then she chuckled, seeming relieved. “Yeah, you asked how low.”
“Mmmm” said Buffy, getting distracted by the return of Faith's fingers to the general region of her inner thighs.
“So B, how low?”
“I would've thought that was pretty obvious.” She sighed. “I'll find better words later when I remember English. That's what we speak, right? `Cos I need to say something to you.”
Oh shit. Here is comes, the rejection speech. What will she say? It was a one off. She's not into girls. We've got too much history. I `coerced' her. I'm the devil bitch who tried to murder her friends. She has to be going now.
“Yeah B, I know, this was a mistake, it can't happen again. I get it.”
Faith began to remove her hand from over Buffy's clit, but Buffy pinned Faith's hand to the bed with her body.
“No!” She paused. “Unless it's what you want?”
“Whatever. What were you going to say?”
Buffy blushed again, embarrassed. But no words could make her more vulnerable than she'd been over the past couple of hours. “I was going to say that that was uh, well…wow.”
“Well natch. I've got wicked skills.”
“Yeah you do have…prowess. Is that the right word?” Two of Faith's fingers were now spreading her inner lips, allowing her to feel the cool air of the cell, which was a whole new sensation of arousal. She moaned slightly and rubbed gently against Faith's hand. Oh God. “Anyway, you've got that in whatever sexual prowess comes in huge amounts of…bushels? Bundles? Mountains? Whatever it is, you have it. But it's not just that. There's so much to say and right now I just can't because what your hands are doing is making language difficult.” Buffy was quiet after that as Faith spread circles of moisture around her clit, gradually increasing the pressure against it.
It feels different now. That last time was amazing! But has Miss Denial-Much actually kind of acknowledged, in a Buffy way, that she wants this? Has she always wanted it? Can I trust her? I mean, it's B. It's B in the throws of passion. Huh, I sent B into the throws of passion. Who's top Slayer now? She said I was the best. Wonder if I was really better than Angel. I guess they only did it the once, unlike us. I suspect orgasm number two is on its way.
Faith kept rubbing at B's clit. Good little Slayer was allowing herself to be more vocal this time. “Right there, oh yeah. Oh God. Faith!”
Having her name screamed in ecstasy from the one mouth that actually counted for her - it was better than being high. It was better than anything. Kneeling beside her, Faith moved her other hand away, and started stroking Buffy's hair away from her neck. She grazed her lips down the back of Buffy's neck, enjoying the gasp.
The added caress of Faith's lips on her skin made every sensation more delicious and intense than before. The anger and shame she always felt around Faith felt distant now. They were actually participating in a physical expression of….Buffy wanted to say `affection.' But that didn't seem right. The shudder started against Faith's finger on her clit and emanated out through the rest of her body. This time Buffy's orgasm was calmer - sweeter. Not quite so scary or powerful as previously - entirely different to what she'd experienced mere minutes before. Her limbs, her cheeks, her secret places felt soft, hazy, not quite solid. There was no way that this Slayer would be able to move an inch, let alone stand, for quite a while.
Faith sat on the floor for a few minutes, her finger still holding Buffy's clit, hand still cupping her body. Wow. She'd been expecting a treat tonight. It was monthly movie night on her wing. This beat “Top Gun” hands down. This beat most things hands down. She'd just fucked Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers who was slumped over the edge of her bed; eyes closed, perfect hair all mussed with sweat.
Something freaky was going on with B. She'd gotten into the cell supernaturally. Maybe the apocalypse had finally happened and they were the only survivors left on earth. That would explain why Buffy had let Faith fuck her. Buffy didn't look as strong as usual. Faith was disturbed at her own concern.
Faith was down with new `BDSM Buffy.' Still, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. This didn't seem like the B she knew and hated. It was like she wasn't totally there. That was Faith's thing. So, this was karma, right? B was the one person Faith might consider doing while actually present. Buffy had turned the tables.
Faith noticed a slight tremor in Buffy's hands and knees. Buffy had been frozen in the same pose over the cot for a while now. Giles' Primo Slayer wasn't looking like she'd be able to move herself anytime soon. Gently, Faith slid her cramped hand, out from under Buffy's body. She lifted Buffy off of the ground, scooping up the bottom part of her jeans from the floor and carefully placed Buffy's virtually comatose body, face down onto the bed. Faith felt all sorts of strange. They'd just shared this intense fucked up experience. It had all started with anger and their everlasting hatred but also something else. What else? She didn't love Buffy. She was sure of that. Probably.
Faith felt a little shivery now herself, and suddenly very conscious of her skin. Although clothed, she felt bare. She wanted to be touching Buffy, and the thought was freaking her.
Screwin' people's easy. Weird how that's the thing people always make such a song `n' dance about, when the real intimate stuff comes after. When you both let down defences - as much as defences ever get let down, and haveta look one another in the eye, be gentle and sweet as if what's happened is more deep an' meaningful than just getting off.
Forget B, what's up with me?
She was getting so lost in her own feelings that until now she hadn't thought about the fact that Buffy's perfect ass was still bare. Perfect except for the hand shaped mark. Faith wanted to place her hand exactly on that place, but she resisted. On Buffy's right cheek was a large deep red welt. She hoped it didn't hurt too much. What a weird thought. The mystical forces from the whole Slayer on Slayer thing had clearly addled her brain. Faith stood over the bed and tried to pull up Buffy's underwear and jeans.
The red g-string. Had Buffy planned this? She'd conveniently gotten rid of everyone in the building. Faith realized she wanted this and tried to eliminate the thought from her mind. The minute you had hopes and expectations of people, was when they screwed you over. The g-string was damp and twisted; Faith wasn't having much success untangling it. She didn't have the patience for these delicate girly things, although she did of course have an appreciation, especially on Buffy.
So she pulled off Buffy's jeans and the tangled panties. Although having Buffy half-naked (from the waist down no less) in her bed was like her ultimate fantasy, Faith felt oddly disturbed to leave her like that. She grabbed a clean pair of the flannel boxers she slept in. Gently she pulled them onto Buffy's passed out body.
Buffy groaned a little and turned onto her side facing Faith, eyes still closed, part way between sleep and waking. Softly she half grumbled half moaned, “Faith?”
“Hmm?” She wondered if Buffy was waking up or on the verge of dreaming.
I wonder what she dreams about? No. I don't.
“Faith, come and lie down for a minute.”
Fuck it, she might as well. She tugged off her boots and lay down in the small space Buffy made beside her in her single bed. Immediately B reached for Faith, wanting to be closer, to be against her. But Faith forced her hands between them; blocking any danger of snuggling. With eyes still closed Buffy held Faith's hands in each of hers, like they were preteen girls at a sleepover. Except Buffy leaned over and kissed Faith lightly on the lips - yeah perhaps a lot like a girly slumber party.
“Look B, I don't do the whole snuggle, cuddle, canoodle deal. Xander musta told you that?”
“Not really wanting to think about you and Xander at this moment.” Buffy teased, but she let go of Faith's hands. A look of hurt fleetingly crossed her face. It did not go unnoticed.
I must be such a sap. But I dunno, B trusted me for perhaps the first time ever. She trusted me. I don't think she's done something like this before, with anyone. I know for a fact that Soldier Boy never woulda taken his belt to her and I guess possibilities with Angel were limited what with the whole losing his soul at the first sniff of perfect happiness deal. Whoa. She trusted me. I guess I could stay with her for now.
“Well, maybe I could hang here for a little while. But, like, whatever.” Faith moved a little closer and took B into her arms.
Resting her head on Faith's chest, Buffy closed her eyes again. She yawned a tiny yawn. “I'm sleepy.” She nestled further into Faith.
“I'll stay with ya `til you fall asleep. Ok, B? Or until I get bored and find somethin' more fun to do.”
Buffy's hair smelt of some girly fruity thing mixed with vanilla. Faith wouldn't be caught dead using that in her hair. But it did smell ok on B.
What am I doing? Why am I holding her? Why is she letting me hold her? She feels good here. Maybe it's the Slayer thing, like some mystical connection. But she's going to leave again. I'll be stuck having had something good for two seconds to remind me forever of what I have to live without. Kinda like when Elizabeth Harrell loaned me all her Polly Pockets for that weekend in grade two. It was way worse when I gave them back than if I'd never had toys in the first place. It feels like B's supposed to be here lying against me, like not having her before I was missing something.
Faith's body jerked, cringing at the thought. Then she looked down to make sure her sudden movement hadn't woken B.
Maybe it's prison? No one gets me, not that B ever did. But maybe just `cos we were chosen. Yeah, I've done some foxes in here, but I've never had someone close, in bed like this. It's prob'ly prison; makes you crave all sortsa weird shit. The last time I saw B she hated me. I'm holding someone who tried to kill me. What the fuck am I doing?
As sleeping Buffy curled further into her and let out a little sigh, something in Faith's stomach flipped over sending a wave of pleasure through her. Perhaps even contentment. It was immediately followed by intense discomfort. The nausea rose from her gut to her throat, warning that she was open to attack, she'd better be on guard. Very carefully Faith removed her arms from around Buffy, laying her blonde head back on the pillow before sliding out of bed. The churning in her belly wouldn't let up and other parts of her body were crying for attention. She'd been immersed in eliciting all kinds of cool reactions from B, but they'd all added to the good tingling in Faith and now it wouldn't let up. She hadn't gotten her needs tended to and had no illusions that B would return the favour anytime soon. Her Royal Prissiness would probably be grossed out at the mere suggestion of eating pussy. She couldn't jerk off with Buffy in the room, talk about leaving yourself open…no thanks.
Faith quietly dropped to the floor, churning stomach pressed onto concrete, and began doing push ups. Working out always helped her restlessness some. A reminder of her own power, the control she had over her own body. She focused on what she was doing “126…127… 128” concentrating only on the movement of her body. Except every time she lowered herself to the ground she couldn't help picturing B below her, what her face would look like while being fucked, how her body might arch up to meet Faith, whether there were tan lines across her breasts, could Faith could get her off as good as Soul Boy. Riley was no competition, she knew from unfortunate experience. But Angel, Buffy's one true love and her own saviour: she couldn't compete. The thought got her pissed and she started using only one arm as her body rose and fell: trying to exercise out that pleasing itch, the discomfort in her belly and all the feelings she was suddenly having. Faith's pace quickened, and she realized she was getting wetter with each move because all she could imagine was the feel of Buffy, the look of her. And whether it was remembered or she was actually sensing it now, she could smell the scent of Buffy's desire mixed in with the peachy vanilla of her hair.
The press-ups were not doing their job. So, Faith switched to chin ups on the bars of her cell door. But as she did them she could feel Buffy caught between herself and the door. Buffy pressed tight against a wall while Faith ground hard into her, fucked her. The chin-ups were a no go. She returned to where they'd sat earlier, leaning back against the bare brick opposite her bed. Buffy was a few meters away. Maybe she wouldn't see if Faith was subtle - not a word she generally related to, but hey. She knew she could be quiet, if being in prison taught you anything besides sneaking booze and smokes past armed guards, it was how to jerk off silently. Yeah she liked to flaunt it at times but why would she want all the skanks on her floor to know when she was turned on. Half of them didn't leave her alone as was. They wanted either her protection or her body. Whatever.
Faith quietly unzipped her jeans. Through her underwear she touched the wetness, she was already well aware was there. Her knees were bent in front of her. If Buffy were to look over hopefully she wouldn't be able to see what Faith's hand was doing. The feel of the cotton was good when it pulled across her clit, as she moved her fingers in slow wide circles. She leaned her head back against the cool brick and closed her eyes; if she couldn't see Buffy then maybe she wasn't there. Faith let her mind wander where it was aching to go, the sight of Buffy getting off while Faith hurt her. B, so turned on she had to do something about it while Faith looked on. Oh God, had that really happened? Faith's fingers moved up and down, as she intensified the pressure of her hand.
The snap and thud as my belt smacked Buffy's ass. That sigh. Oh! All the sounds that B made, the way she said my name the way I always wished she would. And before all that when B strode across the room and actually made the first fucking move! I like being in charge, but damn, B doing that was hot.
Faith wanted to enter herself; needed the feel of something inside her: to be pounded, even by her own hand. Something to remove her entirely from the tension in the room, from the complexities of who said and felt what, who was responsible, who was right and who fucked up and whether the world outside of this prison had actually ended. She needed the release that would follow, the physical letting go that might dissolve the build up between them in the cell, as well as within her body. She let out a small groan as she pressed more forcefully at her clit.
