There was something a little dangerous about having near-sex in an alley.  Particularly if it was outside the Bronze and your friends could stumble upon you at any moment.  And of course, as an added benefit, there were the vamps who seemed to frequent the dark alleys of Sunnydale.  Case in point, here she was with her very own vamp -- and while he didn't do the whole trolling for victims thing anymore, he *had* managed to get *her* into a dark alley with the promise of 'tutoring' her in a few things she might like more than history.

And did she ever.  He was putting his talked-for-too-long mouth to good use -- a better one than discussing ancient wars, that was for sure.
His lips were doing incredible things to her barely-covered breasts, licking and sucking, and wow, had it felt this good when he'd kissed her before?  She didn't think so, but then, they hadn't gotten quite this far, and she couldn't be entirely sure of how it'd felt, as those memories were overshadowed by the small detail of her being questioned for murder.  Stupid robot.  But she forgot all about that when Angel pushed her top up to expose her stomach and the lower swell of her breasts to the slightly cool air.

He kissed her navel, nuzzled his cheek against her the strip of skin revealed by her shoved-up blouse and hip-riding slacks.  A tingle took up residence between her legs and she moaned, maybe even shivered a little, when he slid his hands beneath the pants and into her panties and cupped her bottom.  Couldn't have been easy, given how tight the pants were at that point – and God, were they ever *tight* right were she needed them to be – but she'd never doubted his ability to get into -- out of, *out* of, damn gutter-mind -- a tight spot.  He caressed her bare flesh, squeezed a little, then removed his hands, and no, Angel, dammit, what are you *doing*?  Get back down there!

He ignored her, instead hooked his fingers into the side of those damnably still there pants and underwear, and just *peeled* them off of her.  She could practically see the muscles in his arms rippling.  Yum.  She just hoped her mouth wasn't watering at the pictures flashing through her mind, because that'd be one heck of a mood-breaker.  He was strong, though, and gorgeous, and... dear God in Heaven, that was *good*!  He licked her inner thigh, rubbed his lips over her, um, bits, and if he'd been a normal man, his hair would've littered the floor from the strength of her tugs on it.  He smiled against her, she could feel his lips creasing, and damn him, they weren't were she needed them to be!  She wanted, wanted... something else.  Something that he wasn't giving her, and she'd like to know why, really she would, because he was supposed to love her, and... ohhh.  Yessssss.  That was it, that was just exactly, exactly, *exactly* right.

Oh, yes, Angel, kiss that spot right there.  Mmm, lick... that's it.  That's perfect, and his tongue teased her, teased her, then just... plunged in.  Like he was licking the icing from a donut or something, licking and swirling and thrusting in to get every last drop, and whoa, who knew donuts could be sexy?  Or maybe it was just Angel, and his wonderful, beautiful, oh-so-mobile tongue.  He withdrew it, then slid right back in again, and his finger was playing over the little nub just above where his mouth was, and the tingling had increased, and she felt swollen, wet, and hungry, just starving, for something she couldn't describe.

"Angel," she moaned, screamed, gasped, who the hell cared at this point?  She just wanted whatever that weird tension winding up her insides and making her melt and feel all achy to go away already.  Or, maybe, never go away.  She wasn't really sure, and who could blame her?  She felt so good, and so bad, and so unspeakably needy that she didn't know what to do, how to make it end, or continue, whatever it was meant to do, and then, then he just *grazed* her with his teeth -- was he trying to... no, he couldn't have... though she was all wet and throbbing down there, and-- all thought cut off, just abruptly *stopped* when he pressed down with thumb and suckled with his tongue deep inside her and she felt... everything.  Colors and lights and bright, bright shapes, and God, if this was an orgasm, if felt better than incredible; it felt powerful, and wonderful, and all-consuming, and no wonder teenagers were all so sex-happy, and boy, she could be sex-happy, too, all the time, if only Angel would do this for her *every* day.

Oh... my.  She collapsed back against the wall, and the tension in her stomach was gone, and she felt a little sticky and a lot relaxed, and Angel stood and held her up, and he smiled at her, lips wet -- with *her*, and how weird was she that she got turned on just from thinking that? -- and then he reached down for her slacks and panties, and, smirking, held them out to her.

"Better than history?" he asked, a little smugly, but heck, he was entitled after what he'd done, and she nodded and said,

"Mmmm.  But what about you?  I mean, don't you need to-" she avoided his crotch and hoped she wasn't blushing, because they'd just had oral sex -- oral sex! -- for the first time, well, her first time, and though she'd never actually, um, pleasured a guy before, she'd read books and put the condom on the banana, and oh God, condoms led to naked man which led to sex which was just not an area she was ready to go just yet.  Uh-uh.  But she thought, if things continued as they were, with the orgasms being so fun and all, that she might be ready soon.

"I'll survive," he said gently, and her heart thumped once, hard, against her ribs, because how sweet was that, and how could she not love a man who put her needs ahead of his own?

She gazed at him a moment longer, then took her slacks and panties and bent a little to put them on.  He caressed her shoulders and hair as she struggled back into pants that were suddenly two sizes too small, and he seemed a little distracted when she mentioned something about needing to buy pants that were maybe a little less tight, and then she realized that his pre-occupation was probably because he could see down her blouse, the angle she was at.  She quickly straightened up, feeling her cheeks heat, which was stupid, because he'd just seen more than her breasts, close-up and *personal*, which made her think of the happy, floaty-feelings, and the licking and twirling and dipping of his tongue.  So when Angel asked, completely without innuendo,

"What do you want to do now?"

she blurted, dreamily, "Mmmm, donuts..."

"You want a donut?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"What?  Me, no!  You, *you* want the donut... don't you?" Amazing how after all that, all he'd done for her and all he *hadn't* asked her to do for him, and what that proved about his feelings for her, she still felt insecure about having those floaty-feelings again.  And kind of depressed about the possibility of *not* having them again.  But if he hadn't liked it...

"I could eat," he said, and she smiled.

"Good," she said decisively, "Let's go.  Time's a wastin'."

He stared down at her, brow crinkled in that patented Angel-look, then his lips, still shiny, curved and he laughed, almost, and as they walked off, his arm around her waist, she wondered what he would say if she told him her sex-donut theory.  Hmm, maybe it'd be better to have that discussion at his apartment.

Preferably naked.
 

~end~