It was a mild autumn. Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away, but the weather was crisp and only slightly cool. Looking out his office window, William appreciated the gorgeous colors of the campus’s trees. And yet, every time he looked out at the foliage, all he could was Buffy’s face when she had ridden him while parked at the side of the road. Since then he’d had an image in his head that he couldn’t shake, of Buffy laying back in a clearing, red and gold leaves strewn about, as he lowered himself over her.
It was impractical, though. Even at the farthest reaches of the campus woods, they might be happened upon, and there was really no way to explain how you came to be shagging the life out of one of your students. And if they were interrupted, they would mean they wouldn’t get to come, and that was completely unacceptable.
Buffy on the ground. Buffy surrounded by autumn leaves. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. He didn’t even want to.
He was drowning in her.
“Mr. Bloodsworth?”
William snapped around to see his perfectly nice, matronly secretary holding out a file. “Here’s the final list of those students who’ll be remaining with us over the Thanksgiving holidays,” she told him, referring to the unfortunate students whose parents chose not to bring them home for the long holiday weekend.
Or, he thought ruefully, perhaps they were the lucky ones. No
family psychodrama for them, just a big festive dinner at
“CeCe Atkins…Zoe Beale…Elise Coton…all three Drake sisters…” absently William skimmed the list, then halted his litany abruptly.
“And Buffy Summers.”
~*~*~*~
Buffy loved it when she rested her head on William’s chest after they’d made love and felt him breathe. In and out, slow and rhythmic, barely asleep. Stickiness still between their legs—sometimes he’d get a damp cloth and wash them both clean, but other times he liked to leave their juices on them.
He liked for them to be marked, too.
She felt William’s sleek fingers move through her hair, and turned up to look at him. “You’re not asleep!” she said accusingly.
He chuckled, and her head bounced lightly on his chest. “I’ve been thinking, pet,” he began somewhat tentatively, then broke off. “Thanksgiving,” he began gingerly, then broke off again, frustrated. He wasn’t usually so tongue-tied around her, unless he was in the middle of, well…tasting her, or kissing her, or taking her clothes off…okay, maybe he did have limited power of speech when they were together.
She didn’t seem to mind.
“Thanksgiving?” Buffy repeated, yawning.
“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re not going home?”
“Hmm? No, thank god. My mom called me and told me they’re visiting my aunt, and I convinced her it was better to let me stay here,” Buffy told him, pressing a kiss against his smooth chest.
He hugged her to him, relieved that she wasn’t upset. After a moment, he said, “You sure you want to stay here?”
Buffy turned to look at him. “You don’t want me to stay?” she asked, hurt.
He smiled hopefully. “Actually, I thought maybe we could go away for the holiday…if you want,” he added carefully.
A huge smile broke over her face, and she jumped on top of him, kissing and tickling. He shrieked under her, laughing and squirming. “Is that a yes?” he joked, loving the sight of her over him, tumbled and flushed from his lovemaking.
“You know it is,” she said, poking him in the ribs and burying her face against his abdomen, nipping playfully.
“You little devil!” he swore, reaching for her.
She slipped down his body, evading his hands. “If I wasn’t you never would have looked at me twice,” she giggled, sticking her tongue out, then bending to press kisses to his lower belly.
William chuckled deep in his throat and pushed his fingers into her hair. “You are without a doubt the most shocking miscreant this school’s ever known,” he teased.
She smiled against him, darting her tongue out to trace the clearly delineated lines of his six-pack. He moaned, his fingers tightening slightly. “That feels good,” he groaned, nudging his hardness against her breasts. She smiled, and wondered if he was hinting for another go at what they’d done when she was having her period. Fucking her tits, she remembered him saying later as he stroked his come into her breasts like it was lotion. Afterward he’d reached back with one hand coated in his jiz, plunging his fingers into her and grinding the heel of his hand into her mound, making her buck and moan beneath him, her inner thighs coated in a heady mixture of blood and come.
If he thought that was going to happen this time, he was wrong.
“Where we going?” she asked innocently, feathering her lips over his sharp hipbone. She remembered that first day she went in his office, when she’d called him mean, and he’d pressed her against the door, so close behind her she could feel every bone and muscle in his body. She’d felt his hipbones then.
She’d felt more than just his hipbones.
“What? Where? Uh, anywhere you like,” he told her vaguely,
lost in the sensation of her mouth passing over his body. “Wait,
“Did you go there with some other girl?” she demanded, seeing green.
William burst out laughing and fell back on the bed.
“Answer me!” she demanded in frustration.
“A friend of mine got married there,” he told her in amusement. “I was completely girlless, I promise.”
She started to relax. “And it’ll be all weekend?” she asked hopefully.
He nodded. “We’ll leave after your last class on Wednesday and won’t come back until Sunday,” he promised. He almost shivered at the thought. Four whole days with her—in the same room, the same bed, no having to pretend in front of others. He could kiss her right out in front of everybody. Touch her. Let everyone know she was his.
He was so lost in the thought that the butterfly touch of her lips against the tip of his shaft made him jump. He snapped his gaze down to her, and saw her looking up at him with a flirtatious smile. “Where were you, Mr. Bloodsworth?” she purred.
“I was thinking of—of—” his attempts to answer fell by the wayside as she engulfed the hard, demanding head of his penis in her mouth and stroked her tongue along the bottom side of his cock.
Buffy watched as William dropped his head back and moaned. With his face drawn by passion he was even more beautiful. And he was hers, every bit of him. Especially the big bit throbbing in her mouth, Buffy thought in amusement, moving down along his shaft until she’d reached her limit. She pulled back slowly, greedily drawing on him, loving his taste.
She repeated the action, then drew back entirely, letting his long, sleek cock pop out of her mouth as he thrust up at her desperately. “Now, now,” she taunted, gliding her fingers up along the inside of his thighs until they captured his balls and squeezed lightly before releasing them. “What do you say?”
He stared down at her, sweat sheening his forehead, need glazing his eyes. Then his eyes cleared and brightened, and he reached down, cupping his hands on either side of her face. He drew her up into a tender kiss, his tongue skating into her mouth and twining with hers until they were both left panting. Finally he pulled back at looked at her. “Suck my cock, Miss Summers,” he said bluntly, shoving her down not the least bit gently.
Buffy shivered with delight and obeyed. He always did know just what to say.
William closed his eyes for several moments, loving the feel of her mouth devouring him. Just the sounds of her sucking greedily on his cock were almost enough to make him spend. Then he looked down and saw her, hair tumbled in front of her face, and reached down to push her hair back so he could take in the luscious, unbelievable sight of her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off like he was a popsicle and she was in desperate need of a sugar rush. “That’s it, baby,” he told her thickly, wrapping his hands in her hair and thrusting up into her sweet mouth. “Harder, I’m almost there…almost….”
Buffy obediently sucked harder, squeezing his balls with one hand while stroking the base of his shaft with the others. Finally he started to buck in her mouth and she held on, catching his cream in her mouth and swallowing it down without hesitation as he shouted and swore.
After what seemed like forever he stopped spurting. She released his cock and gave it a sweet little kiss, then licked her lips as meticulously as a cat.
As he lay back against the pillows, barely conscious, she moved up until she was snuggled against his shoulder, rubbing her hand across his chest affectionately. “So tell me about the inn,” she suggested blithely.
