Ducks: Queen of Frickin' Everything

I decided to split this story up so that people can read one without being forced to read the others. PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT THIS IS PORN. My purpose was to write the most inappropriate content I could without tripping over my own Squick lines. Any flames or complaints about content will be ignored. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED -- IF ANY OF THE ABOVE SQUICKS YOU, DO NOT CLICK!

TITLE: Forbidden Fruit 1/5
AUTHOR: Ducks, The Anti-Joss
E-MAIL: ducksfanfic@gmail.com
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
DISCLAIMER: Heh. Yeah, not so much. I'm thinking their corporate owners may not appreciate this kind of story involving their characters.
RATING: Oh, WAY NC-17
WARNINGS: Underage sex, incest, gender-bending, strap-ons, f/f slash, graphic language
PAIRING(S): Buffy/Giles, Faith/Dawn, Connor/Darla, Joyce/Oz, Xander/Cordy
TIMELINE: Various. It's not really important, but it's noted at the beginning of each story.
SYNOPSIS: Naughty, inappropriate sex for no particular reason.
WORD COUNT: ~6650 (total)
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask. Chances are good that I'll say yes. :)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Five REALLY Naughty Pornlets for BRING BACK THE Pr0N DAY 2007! Just to be clear for anybody who doesn't get the line between fiction and reality, by writing these, I am in no way condoning any of this behavior in real life, nor is it meant to offend those who consider themselves survivors or victims of any of these things in real life. I'm very clear that sexual relationships involving an imbalance of power not agreed upon by two consenting adults is BAD. I am also well aware that being gay, cross-dressing and/or teens safely exploring sex with other teens is NOT bad. This is fiction, okay? The point of these is to be as inappropriate as I can be subject-wise in response to the attack on freedom of expression by the small minds of various corporate entities that shall remain nameless.

Plus, they're challenging, because all are out of my "comfort zone", and nobody seems to write PWP anymore. *pout*
FEEDBACK: That would be awesome, thank you!

All mistakes are mine -- my dirty betas are all gone to Dragon*con! *cries*

"Forbidden Fruit”
by Ducks

~

1. Giles/Buffy - BtVS Season 3 (Underage Sex, Graphic Language and Sexuality)


He bent her over the checkout desk late one night and shoved himself deep inside her, clutching her slender hips so tightly that he left hand shaped bruises that made him glad that Angel was no longer privy to intimate visions of Buffy's tender flesh.

Giles had felt Angel's wrath when the vampire was soulless, and the Watcher held no illusions that conscience would make narry a difference at all if Buffy's boyfriend found out just how his beloved was working off her built up sexual tension after a hard's night's slaying these days.

How both of them were.

He had resisted for so long. Kept his distance, played the father figure. On some level he did care for her that way -- cared more for her own well-being than his own. Would do anything for her, to see her happy, alive, fulfilled. Die, kill, let the world be sucked into hell. But during her absence last summer, during those endless days and nights where he was certain he would never see her smiling face, never hear her laughter or snide cynicism or unintentional brilliance again, he realized...

The one thing he could never do was be without her. And so he realized, though protective and father-like he might sometimes feel, ultimately what lived inside him that whispered and moaned and snarled Buffy's name was a thing quite different than that platonic thing called 'foster-father' or Watcher.

In those weeks since Angel's return, the months since Buffy came back from Los Angeles, he continued to resist. Continued to tell himself that the way he felt was wrong. She was too young, too fresh, too innocent. Forget it. Find someone more appropriate, like her mother, whose body he'd already possessed, at least for a night.

Then she had returned late one night from a particularly brutal fight, sweaty and tired and smelling of earth and musk, and he was suddenly an animal with no brain or conscience himself. He hadn't paused to ask, to kiss her softly and find out her feelings on the matter. Had she been less... aroused and interested, less quick to respond to his passion in kind, it might well have been rape, but he had a difficult time caring about that until much later.

The fashionable clothes his Slayer wore were flimsy and gave under his touch with no resistance at all, as did her body. He dove to the hard feast of her pebbled nipples, heard her cry out, bury her small fingers in his hair and grind her already damp crotch into the leg of his slacks, he knew that she needed this as badly as he did. So much loss, so much uncertainty in their lives, in their callings, and all they really had to count on was one another. Of course things would go this way. Of course. Only natural. A man, a woman, loneliness, desire, need, passion. What did numbers of years or labels or positions in the civilized world matter in the face of that?

Then she was tearing at his much more sturdy clothes, and even the finest British haberdashery could not stand up to Slayer strength. In a moment, his wool slacks were torn away entirely, his boxers shredded and abandoned, and Buffy's hot, callused little hand was wrapped tight around his cock, stroking him in just the right way as if she had been doing it forever.

God, how he wished she could do it forever. He cried out, his voice echoing through the library and reminding him how long it had been... besides the candy and Joyce. How long since someone had wanted him. Since he had wanted like this. He thrust into her grip and she pulled him to her, hissed in his ear.

"Please. Please fuck me. Fuck me now."

He snarled like a rabid animal and flipped her over, slammed her into the check out counter and took her. Hand tangled in her long, thick hair, his head thrown back, knees braced against the riotous tide of pure, animal lust that threatened to send them both crashing to the hard marble floor. Rammed himself home, deep, hot, wet, hard, over and over again, reveling in her screams, her cries of encouragement, the way she met him, thrust for thrust, slamming back and taking him to the center of her. The tip of him slamming into her cervix again and again until the world became nothing but their frantic breathing, flesh slapping together, Buffy's feral grunts as she received him, and then... the peak. That pinnacle of all creation, that one place that all men sought, no matter the appropriateness, no matter their intellect, no matter, no matter, no...

"BUFFY!"

Giles let go. Let all of everything ever go as he never had before, and spilled inside her like this orgasm, this coming was a coming home, the start of something new, something better, something... Oh, God, she was coming with him, her fierce inner muscles clamping down around him, squeezing him, milking him dry of misery and pain and all that bloody aloneness that never ended. They exploded together, reborn. She cried incoherently, mindlessly as she pulsed around him, reaching back to claw the flesh of his ass and then...

"ANGEL!"