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Buffy Vampire Slayer 2

February 25th, 2008

France wasn’t all bad though. They had good wine and the atmosphere was refreshing. Nobody asked too many questions and for the most part she was free to patrol and to hunt and to do as she pleased. She took another sip of her drink and her thoughts briefly drifted to Spike. She wished he could be with her now. Not only as an ally, but as a lover. At the end of day she needed nothing more than someone to hold her and let her know that everything was going to be okay.

“Buy you a drink?” A man’s voice spoke. Buffy turned to see a dark haired man in a business suit. His eyes were glazed over and his breath reeked of bourbon. He was mildly attractive though and had a slim physique. He had a desperate sense about him. “He’ll do,” she thought.

“Sure, how about another Martini, dirty.” Buffy voiced as she downed the last of her first drink. She could feel the warmth of the alcohol begin to course through her veins. It felt wonderful. Like coming home.

‘What’s your name?”

“Buffy.”

“How American. What a beautiful name for a such a beautiful girl.” He delivered the line with his eyes firmly fixed on Buffy’s chest. Her perk and supple young breasts were showcased nicely by her low cut blouse. His accent was unmistakably French but he spoke English well enough.

“Uh, thanks.” By this time the bartender had made another drink and Buffy took another big sip. It burned her throat. It felt great.

“Woah, easy baby. That’s strong stuff,” the man voiced with a chuckle. She felt his hand on her back, drifting. It was obvious what he wanted from her.

“I can handle it,” she responded. She looked over at him through her saddened blue eyes. She looked for a connection. There was nothing there. There was only mindless lust. “I can handle a lot of things.”

The man laughed. “Is that right? I wonder if you can handle me.” His hand moved down and rested against her bottom. She didn’t object. The attention was welcomed, even if it wasn’t sincere. Buffy looked at him again and smiled.

“Why don’t we find out?” She voiced with a strange seriousness. She grabbed her glass and took another long sip, finishing it.

The back alley was suitable. Buffy and her new friend emerged from the back door of the bar. It was quiet and dark. There was a faint breeze flowing through the alley, kicking up old newspapers and pushing coke cans across the brick pavement.

“Let’s make this quick,” Buffy voiced “Certainly.” The man responded.

Buffy saw a trashcan that seemed like the perfect height. She moved next to it and undid her jeans. The man did the same. Once her pants were down she bent over the lid of the can, flipped her hair back, and waited while the man pulled her panties down. His cock was exposed now through the zipper hole of his slacks. He spat into his hand and rubbed it

“Are you ready for me baby? You ready to have this inside you.”

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