Touch Me

Rating:
Total Chapters: 4

Buffy and Spike: Slayer and Vampire, mortal enemies who screw each other nightly in every kinky way imaginable, available only at Booty Calls for $8 a minute. But, by day, William and Liz are two very ordinary, lonely people who have found a way to become close despite the long-distance and their unconventional workplace. And one weekend together in real life will spark an even greater flame between them. A humorous romance.

Enjoying this story? Share your rating!
[Total: 0 Average: 0]

Author’s Notes: Well, here I go, playing with reality in an AU environment again. But, hey, it’s fun. I also had a lot of fun poking fun at the most absurd of the smut genre in this one, so if you run across a really dorky sex scene, yup, it’s intentional. I mean, some of that stuff really is just silly when you look at it in a certain light. Yup, even mine. ~_^ So I hope you enjoy this rather off-the-wall AU, and remember it’s all done in good humor. ^_^


Chapter 1

“Oh, yes, Spike! Touch me!”

“You like that, Slayer?” Spike growled in a low British accent. “You like bein’ fucked from behind by a demon?”

An exclamation half between a moan and a disgusted snort emitted from the Slayer’s mouth. “Just shut up and fuck me,” she ordered.

“You don’t order me around, Buffy,” he said her name snidely. “You’re forgettin’ who’s got twelve-inches of vampire cock poundin’ her peach senseless.”

A brief pause and something that sounded almost like a stifled giggle. “Guh, uh!” Buffy cried in response. “Oh, fuck, Spike! Too hard! You’re ripping me in two!”

“Take it, bitch,” he said harshly. “Take it all.”

“Oh, oh, yes, Spike! You hurt me so good, you big bad vampire!”

“Huh, yeah!” Spike cried out. “That’s my good li’l Slayer. Take your punishment…” His voice turned to a husky, dangerous whisper as he addressed the third party in the room. “You’re next, mate, so be ready to take it hard up the ass. No Slayer to save you now…”

“Uh, yeah!” the observer’s grunts became louder and faster as he jacked himself off to the erotic display before him. “Fuck that bitch hard! Fuck her right up the ass and show her who’s boss!”

“Hear that, Slayer?” Spike whispered, the smirk evident in his voice. “You’re takin’ a foot-long vampire right up the ass. Raw.” A loud grunt.

Buffy screamed out in agony in response. “Please, please, stop!” she cried out. “It hurts too much!”

“You’ll take it and like it,” Spike ordered harshly. “Break your walls right apart.”

Buffy’s cries turned from pain to ecstasy. “Oh, oh, yes! You hurt me so good, baby! Hurt me, Spike! Rape me harder! Make me bleed!”

“Aw, yeah,” the observer gasped loudly.

“Take my big, thick Sex Pistol!” Spike cried out, voice breaking into an orgasmic cry.

“Fuck!” cried out the observer as he came.

An all-out snort. Then, the sounds of some mechanical fumbling, followed by a final “Uh, uh, yes!” from Buffy.

Then, the sound cut off and a mechanical voice announced: “YOUR TIME HAS EXPIRED. IF YOU WISH TO CONTINUE, PLEASE PRESS ONE. EACH ADDITIONAL MINUTE WILL COST YOU EIGHT DOLLARS. IF YOU WISH TO SWITCH TO ANOTHER SEX GAME, PRESS TWO FOR A LIST OF AVAILABLE OPTIONS. IF YOU WISH TO TERMINATE THIS SESSION, HANG UP NOW, AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR BUSINESS. WE HOPE YOU’LL CHOOSE BOOTY CALLS FOR ALL YOUR FUTURE NEEDS.”

Of course, the two Booty Calls employees had already switched to their talk line when the automatic message cut in. Although it had taken Liz up to the ‘terminate this session’ part because she’d been laughing so hard.

Sex Pistol?!” she demanded once they were alone, hysterical giggles sounding over the phone line.

William chuckled. “Gotcha with that one,” he said proudly, thick London accent instantly dropping away now that their little game was over and resuming his normal speaking voice. Although he’d lived in England until he was ten, it was barely discernable in his regular accent anymore. “And I heard you activate the ‘uh-uh’ tape, so that’s a point for me,” he insisted.

Liz managed to get her laughter under control. “Definite point to you,” she conceded, “but if that call had ended only a few seconds earlier…”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t,” William retorted cockily, putting another check by his name on their running scoreboard, “which means I’m winning, 97 to 82.”

“Only because you cheat,” Liz mock-sulked, marking the latest score on her own chalkboard as well. “So, now, seriously…Sex Pistol?!”

William shrugged and grabbed a handful of Cheerio’s from the box on his desk, munching on them happily. “I got bored and was looking through my CD collection and… It just came to me, luv. Pure on-the-spot inspiration.”

She snickered. “You’re warped, you know that?” she teased. She hit the rewind button on her ‘uh-uh’ tape, setting it back to the beginning.

She and William had made the tapes as an extra safety for when their little jokes caused them to start laughing aloud while with a customer. The tapes contained prerecorded repetitions of ‘uh-uh’ with various other expletives thrown in between, giving them their name.

They’d had to resort to such measures about six months after they’d gotten their act together when Liz had called out at the moment of faux-climax, “Yes, Spike! Shatter my meat tunnel with your huge, husky third leg!” William had broken out into complete hysterics right on the line, and soon Liz had been laughing right alongside him. The customer, needless to say, had been more than a little putout that the fantasy had been completely destroyed. They’d each gotten an irate call from their boss, Darla, later that night, scolding them for such a “breech of company ethics.” It didn’t help that William had burst out into laughter again at that. Luckily, they were one of the most popular acts Booty Calls had, and they hadn’t been fired on the spot. They had made the tapes, though, to prevent it from happening again.

And had promptly begun an all-out war to try to force the other to use the tapes as often as possible. Hence, the tally. Liz sulked at how badly she was falling behind. She needed another ‘huge husky third leg’ quality comment and fast.

William chuckled. “Completely warped,” he agreed, continuing to munch away at his Cheerio’s, “and you know you love it.”

“You wish,” she countered coyly, clicking open her junk-mail folder and searching through the one-hundred fifty penis enlargement ads she’d gotten since yesterday. Spam e-mails were a godsend for absolutely ridiculous material. Ooh, ‘Make Her Swallow While She’s On Top Of Your Tree Stump’… Liz clicked the ad. No additional funny comments, unfortunately. And, when she really thought about it, was that phrase even physically possible? She moved it to the ‘maybe’ folder. Contorted positions sometimes got a chuckle out of him.

“Do I,” he agreed, tone turning soft. “Looks like that last one’s not paying for any additional minutes,” he finally commented, checking his phone lines and seeing no impending calls coming in.

“I’m not complaining,” Liz agreed. “That man needed serious mental help.”

“Uh-huh,” William agreed, half paying attention as one fiber ‘O’ escaped his grip and clattered to the floor. He scrambled under his desk to retrieve it and throw it in the trash.

Liz heard the scuffling sounds. “What are you doing over there?” she demanded curiously.

“Jerking off thinking about you,” he shot back automatically. He picked up the ‘O’ and tossed it to the wastebasket. And promptly missed. He swore and got up to throw it away properly.

Liz’s cheeks flushed. “Seriously,” she insisted, her heart still pounding and her panties feeling a bit of wetness for the first time.

“Dropped something and threw it in the trash,” he admitted with a sigh. “Ruin my little game, why don’t you?” he added teasingly.

She smiled against the receiver. “I wouldn’t mind if you did,” she flirted shamelessly.

He chuckled. “Talk to me like that, and I’ll never get those papers graded tonight,” he chided her.

“Sure you will,” she teased, “you can just write ‘Faster! Harder!’ in the margin by mistake again.”

William’s face flushed a deep red, and he buried his face in his hands. “What part of ‘never mention that again’ don’t you understand?” he asked pitiably.

“What was it Professor Marcus said in response? ‘I thought this essay was well-paced and fully handled the complexity of the issues’?” Liz continued to taunt him.

He mock-wept into his hands. “You win,” he conceded in a completely mortified voice.

Liz smiled, twining the phone cord around her fingers. “Are you blushing and holding your head in your hands?” she asked shyly.

“Yeah,” he admitted with a small smile.

“You’re cute when you do that,” she informed him softly.

And he was, too. The sole time they had met in real life had been at LAX airport for five hours one afternoon when William’s San Francisco flight had been laid over and delayed. On impulse, he’d called her up and let her know he was in town.

Nervously, they’d both agreed to meet. And they’d exchanged pictures before, so they both knew what they thought they were expecting, but when Liz had first set eyes on the man that belonged to the voice she’d so fallen in love with, her first thought had been, Damn, he’s even more gorgeous in real life.

His slack-jawed gape had indicated that he felt the same way. They’d shared an awkward hug and sat down in one of the airport cafés for coffee, the conversation starting out hesitantly but soon building to the playful battles they constantly had between call-in customers. Less than an hour in, and they had both been as comfortable with each other as if they’d known each other in years.

Liz still thrilled at the memory of their one and only kiss upon his departure. It had been short and brief, a soft press of lips, and a gentle embrace. After all, they’d been in the middle of a public place. It hadn’t been a deep kiss or a hard kiss or even a particularly passionate one. Just a hesitant exploration of the feelings they’d developed for each other after working together for almost two years.

And they’d proved most certainly that afternoon that their relationship had been much deeper than two colleagues. Liz’s lips still burned with that kiss at times, and William had admitted to her shyly the day after that his did, too. It had left them aching for more, both longing to be able to reach out and touch the other although the vastness of the state of California separated them.

Soon, though, that would all change.

“Have you packed up everything you want me to bring back with me, then?” he inquired casually, leaning back and closing his eyes, savoring the sound of her voice and the tender memory of those sweet lips…

“All ready to go,” she agreed. “What time do you think you and Dawn will get in?”

“Depends on what time someone,” William shouted out loudly enough to be heard down the hallway of his apartment, “gets out of bed in the morning!

“Like you ever wake up early!” the yell of William’s little sister could just barely be heard over the receiver.

Liz chuckled. “Tell Dawnie I said ‘hi’.”

“Liz says ‘hi’,” William shouted in Dawn’s direction.

“Tell Liz I’ll drag your lazy ass out of bed as soon as I can tomorrow,” Dawn retorted.

Liz chuckled. “Poor baby,” she teased.

“Kids these days,” William groused good-naturedly. “Got no respect… Why, oh why, does she hafta go all the way down to LA to check out UCLA?” he demanded. “She got into Berkeley and Stanford…”

“And it couldn’t possibly be because she wants to put some distance between herself and Big Brother?” Liz teased.

He humphed. “Just wait ‘til it’s your little Joyce that wants to flee as far as possible,” he retorted.

“Luckily, I’ve got another sixteen years before any such threat arises,” Liz retorted. “And the way she’s been running around lately… Daycare can’t decide whether she’s a terror or an angel.”

“It gonna be a problem with me and Dawn coming down for the weekend?” he asked for about the umpteenth time.

“I’m sure Joycie will love you both,” Liz assured him with a roll of her eyes. “If she can stand her father, then I’m sure she won’t have any objections to a sweetheart like you…”

His cheeks flushed, and he felt his heart start to beat faster. “Did you just call me a sweetheart?” he asked in a husky, hopeful voice.

Liz felt the excitement building up within herself as well. “Yeah…” she admitted shyly.

He gulped. “Joyce been sleeping through the nights lately?” he asked non-subtly.

“Yup,” Liz agreed in eager anticipation. “Having late night company shouldn’t be a problem…”

A moment of silence as the two contemplated their reunion tomorrow. Excitement, fear, anticipation, anxiety, joy… All rolled up into one neat passage.

Liz noticed two flashing red lights on her phone. “We’ve got a hail from Darla,” she pointed out. “Must be a customer that’s on line six.”

“But Spike hasn’t helped Buffy recover from the last round,” William countered teasingly.

Liz blushed. “Okay, so what’s Spike going to do?” she asked coyly, her entire body tingling in eager anticipation.

“Hafta make this fast,” he apologized quickly, watching Darla’s insistent blinking light before his voice dropped to a low, comforting baritone. “Seems to me, Spike’s gonna start out by drawing Buffy up a nice, hot bath. Curl her right up against him, and slowly wash all that pain right off of her. He’ll plant slow kisses on the back of her neck, while he scrubs her hot skin with vanilla-scented suds. Then, when they’re all done getting clean, he’s gonna carry her right out of the tub and dry her off with a big, soft towel. Then he’s going to carry her back to his king-sized bed full of crimson rose petals and red satin sheets. He’ll set her down right in the center and feed her sweet chocolates for the rest of the night while whispering sweet nothings in her ear about how beautiful she is and how much he loves her…”

Liz shut her eyes tight, practically melting at his words. Despite their profession, they’d never actually had phone sex before. Buffy and Spike were always a silly game. But, in the aftermath, when they comforted each other from the more troubling images they’d had to face with their clients, Liz could almost swear that he was making love to her with his words. She knew that’s what she always tried to do to him.

It was a custom that had begun the first night they’d met, and Liz didn’t think she’d ever have been able to keep this work up without it.

She had been pretty much at the pit of despair when she’d first signed on with Booty Calls. Her friend Cordy had actually turned her onto it, saying it was a great way to make extra cash and it was all just silly fantasy stuff anyway. Liz had rejected the idea flat-out until she’d discovered she was pregnant.

Now, it wasn’t like she hadn’t liked Riley. He’d been a decent enough guy, in his own way. But the two of them had never really clicked much beyond shallow, surface-level stuff and when she found out that despite all her precautions she was going to have his baby… Well, she’d thought for a while that her life was over.

Fortunately (or was it unfortunately?), Riley hadn’t been ready for the commitment yet, either. And even though she’d been the one who suggested it, she was still bitter at just how fast he’d run away from the situation. Which had left her a single mother. Who had to drop out of graduate school because of the pregnancy and take up a crap job. She’d been alone, frightened, and horribly strapped for cash.

So, one night she’d called up Darla and asked for a job. It was easy, right? Just stay stupid shit like in those dumb porn movies she and her girlfriends used to rent for comedic relief and get a nice, fat paycheck. And, oh, was the pay good. She’d thought she could handle it. After all, a lot of Booty Calls’ employees were young people like herself, wanting to make a bit of extra cash for just a few hours’ work an evening. It should’ve been a piece of cake…

Until she’d gotten the psycho from hell for her first caller. She could still hear his oily, disgusting voice in her mind, and it had given her shivers for quite some time. The cold declaration that he was going to find her, track her down, and rape her until she was dead had had her sobbing within seconds. She’d broken out into outright hysterics at his continued nasty words until a deep British voice had broken into the call.

“Hello, cutie…”

She’d been a bit too shocked to really hear what happened after that. Just that ‘Spike’ had pulled some domination act and gotten the horrible caller to finally go away. She’d cried to herself throughout the whole thing. Maybe starting something like that with pregnant hormones on top of everything hadn’t been such a good idea. But then the ‘Spike’ persona turned off, and she’d met William for the first time.

“Oh, hush, hush, luv,” he’d soothed softly. “It’s all right. He’s gone, and it was just a dumb act; he’s not going to hurt you.” He’d scoffed. “Probably some little runt of a computer nerd who’s never gotten any all his life. Bet he faints at the sight of real woman like the complete ponce that he is.”

And Liz hadn’t been able to do anything but laugh at that. She’d cautiously admitted that she was pregnant, single, and probably couldn’t handle this. And he’d responded with genuinely interested inquiries about when the baby was due, and where the father was, and he’d even offered to set his vampire ‘Spike’ persona loose on Riley, just because he’d been a jerk enough to leave her alone. A little bit of her had fallen in love with him right then, despite the bizarre circumstances of their meeting; after all, all her real life friends had known Riley and had been annoyingly sympathetic to his viewpoint when all she’d wanted to do was rant.

She’d then listened in rapt fascination for almost an hour as he explained all about his ‘Spike’ persona and how he’d invented it. He’d advised her to come up with a fictional character of her own to play, so the calls seemed less personal. They’d toyed with names for quite a while before she’d finally looked up nicknames for Elizabeth on the Internet and had stumbled across ‘Buffy’. The two of them had been in fits of hysterics over how it was the most ridiculous porn name ever.

Then, he’d said the sweetest thing ever, and she could still quote the entire speech by heart, it had been burned so deeply in her brain: “Yeah, Spike’s a nasty, baaad vampire, but for what you’ve gone through, he would’ve sweetened right up. Took you out to a nice dinner, the finest champagne, the best food money could buy – he would treat you like a queen, luv, and make it all better.” It was only too clear that the words were William’s, rather than Spike’s, and strangely enough they had eased her pain so that she didn’t quit right on the spot.

By the time her next call came, she didn’t want to stop talking to him. And then he’d suggested that he help her out a bit in this one, turn it into a goofy threesome and just have some fun. She’d eagerly agreed. And they’d been inseparable since. She still firmly believed that it was their tongue-and-cheek attitude that allowed them to keep going every night and made their act so popular with the callers. After all, they were probably the only phone sex operators that enjoyed their jobs so much, and it paid off.

“That make it good for now?” William’s voice broke in, breaking her from her reflections about their first meeting. “We’ve gotta get this call.”

“Um…yeah,” Liz agreed, hitting the talk line for Darla.

“It’s about time the two of you decided to respond,” Darla snapped matter-of-factly. “This is a phone sex business, not a dating agency,” she reminded them sternly.

“Bet you could make a lot of money with the latter, though,” William retorted, not concerned by their employer’s usual brusque manner in the slightest.

“The two of you would be working your debt off until you were eighty,” Darla shot back, just a hint of amusement in her voice. “Now, you got Faith waiting on line six, and she wants to pick up where you three left off last time. Please tell me I don’t have to remind you.”

Liz winced. “Yeah, yeah, two Slayers tying up the poor, innocent vampire for kinky bondage times,” she said wearily. Faith was one deranged woman. Liz had murmured sweet words of affection to William for over twenty minutes after their last session. I mean, really, there were some things that just shouldn’t be done with stakes.

William winced even more. “This isn’t the one where she’s cut my dick off, is it?” he demanded nervously.

“She fixed that, remember,” Liz assured him, switching back to their private line. “Some nonsense about vampire healing.”

“Yeah, so she can do it again,” William shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “That woman has issues with men… Why do we get all the weirdoes, anyway?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it couldn’t have anything to do with the vampire/slayer voyeur part of the act,” Liz teased lightly before her voice softened again. “I’ll make it up to you later, baby,” she assured him. “Or, better yet, tomorrow when I see you in person…” She left a hint of breathy suggestion at the end of the sentence.

William gulped, suddenly convinced he could live through a dozen verbal emasculations as long as he got to smell the sweet perfume of her hair again on the morrow. “Ready?” he asked, finger poised over the talk button.

“Let’s get this over with,” Liz agreed, annoyed.

“Hey, B,” Faith’s husky voice greeted her immediately. “You ready to have another go at our stud?”

“Just been warming him up for you,” Buffy agreed in an equally wicked voice. “Gave him a few good lashes when he tried to get away…”

“Oh, a naughty vampire, huh?” Faith tisked lightly. “Looks like we’re gonna hafta teach this one a lesson…”

“Try your worst, bitch,” Spike spat out.

Faith snickered. “You got the stake, B?” she inquired.

“Oh yeah,” Buffy agreed in heady anticipation.

“Then you hold him down while I ride this bastard ‘til he pops. I’d like to see him talk back then…”

“You got it,” Buffy agreed in a husky voice, while inwardly Liz was rolling her eyes. Just get through this one last call, and we’ll be done with our shift for the night, she thought, looking up at the clock. And tomorrow… She could hardly wait.

Enjoying this story? Share your rating!
[Total: 0 Average: 0]