Shakes or Bananas

by Saber ShadowKitten
Dinner Interrupted 4






The little bitch was doing it on purpose. She had to be, Spike thought, as he shifted uncomfortably on the hard booth seat. Okay, so he hadn't known the Slayer was going to be at Scoops, the university ice cream and coffee shop, the same time he got a craving for a double mint chocolate chip dish -- not cone, too unmanly -- of ice cream. But by the way she was drinking her vanilla shake...she had to know he was there.

It was torture, pure and simple. She was getting back at him for last week when he'd slipped a naughty letter into her class notebook and she'd returned to Giles's, where he had been holed up researching with the man, all flushed and flustered and unable to do anything because of her former Watcher's presence and the fact that the sun was shining high in the sky, preventing his leaving.

Yep, that had to be it, he thought, as she smiled at something one of her classmates said. Buffy was sitting at a similar red and white hard plastic booth like he was, a tall vanilla milkshake in front of her on the checked-formica table. She was sitting beside another girl and across from a boy and a girl, and there were notecards scattered between the four.

Spike knew she was studying for an exam. He'd tried to hint about giving her a quick seeing to before patrol that night, but she'd called off on account of her test, which left him to patrol alone unless he conned one of the Twitkateers into going with him. It also left him horny and with no one to do. He really needed to find another shag-mate who wasn't so busy with tests and dates and preventing world endage.

Great, he was thinking in Buffy-speak. Spike frowned and tore his eyes away from his object of cockfection. He stabbed at his dish of ice cream with the spoon as if it were the plot trying to develop in his simple fuck and run non-relationship he had with the Slayer. They scratched each other's itches, that was all. Sex for the sake of physical satisfaction and not because they were in love, or even in like. Horny male plus horny female equals shagging, no more, no less.

His eyes moved on their own volition back to the blond partway across the room from him. She leaned forward on her arms, which were resting on the table, giving him a great view down her shirt. The bulge in his pants grew even harder when he saw she was sans bra and her nipples were little points because of the cold shake she was drinking.

And then she wrapped her coral-painted lips around her straw and sucked the milky white liquid up into her mouth. Spike dropped one of his hands to his lap to press on his throbbing cock as he watched her cheeks pull in as she sucked. Her mouth slid back on the straw, leaving a coral streak, as she slowly released it.

A touch of the thick, white substance lined her lips where they were around the straw, and he silently moaned. Her little pink tongue darted out to lick them, and it was all he could do not to beg for her to come over to his booth and suck on his cock like she did the straw. He'd happily drizzle some of his double mint chocolate chip on his erection if she wanted ice cream. Hell, he'd happily bathe in the bloody stuff if she'd wrap her lips around him right there and then.

Spike dropped his eyes to his melting dish of ice cream and wiggled on the hard seat again, trying to ease the ache. He knew she'd be really pissed if he bothered her tonight, what with her test and all. He didn't want to lose out on the sex because he couldn't control himself after seeing her suck on a soddin' straw. He was over a hundred years old, not a teenager with his first boner. He could sit in the shop and eat his ice cream and walk out without stopping to jump the Slayer's bones.

Confidence in himself bolstered, the blond vampire stuck a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and glanced back over at Buffy. He nearly choked on the mint chips. As it was, his eyes started watering and he had to cover his mouth with a napkin to muffle his coughing. He grabbed the glass of warm water -- a must with cold ice cream -- on the table in front of him and gulped most of it down.

He was a man of the world. He'd lived a long time. He'd seen a lot of films. He'd read hundreds of volumes of erotica. None of it prepared him for actually witnessing Buffy pick up the banana that had been on the table beside her milkshake, peel it, and wrap her mouth around it.

She'd been just about to take a bite when one of her tablemates had obviously said something, because her mouth slid back over the light-colored banana, leaving it whole, a slight coral ring visible around it. It was cruel and unusual punishment for him. She had to be doing it on purpose, he thought. What sort of woman eats a banana the same time she has a vanilla milkshake?

He saw her slide the pale banana back into her mouth and whimpered. Her cheeks had bulged slightly as she ate the curved, thick piece of fruit, reminding him vividly of what she looked like with her mouth around his cock like that. Granted, she bit down next, but he was a vampire, he liked biting. She could bite him anytime. Fuck, he'd probably shoot his wad the instant she sank her blunt, perfect teeth into him.

Bloody hell, he needed to get out of there before he burst. Most definitely before she wrapped her sexy, kissable, hot mouth around anything else other than his prick. If he could walk. Or even stand for that matter.

Spike managed to slide out of the booth and stand, his back towards the Slayer. He pulled his duster forward in order to adjust himself mostly unobserved. "Come on, mate," he muttered to himself. "It's only five meters to the door. You can walk past the bloody chit without grabbing her, forcing her to her knees and shoving your cock down her throat."

Mentally geared up, he turned around and forced himself to walk forward while not looking at Buffy. He got more than halfway to the door before his eyes once again did what they wanted and traveled over to the blond. She was leaning on her hand, her elbow on the table, her eyes focused on the milkshake glass in front of her. He saw her dip her finger of her other hand into the thick concoction and swirl it around as each step towards the door brought her closer to him.

She took her finger out of her shake and he swallowed heavily at the white covered digit. Then she sucked her finger into her mouth just as he was a single booth away, and he let out an uncontrollable, strangled sound of sexual agony.

Her eyes came up and she spotted him, her finger still in her mouth. The surprise reflected in her gaze and on her face indicated that she really hadn't known he was there, and a rush of anger ran through him. Every other male in Scoops was probably as hard as he was because of her actions. She was giving them all a blatant sign that she was a cock-tease, for crissakes!

Spike growled low and dangerously, the sound rolling across the ice cream shop just under the music. So what if he couldn't back his warning up? The Slayer's cunt was his, as was her mouth and hands and every other part of her body.

Buffy's eyes widened fractionally. He ground his blunt teeth together and stared down at her with fire in his blue eyes. She was his and his alone to satisfy and make cry out in pleasure until one of them terminated their non-relationship. He was not going to allow anyone else to touch his Slayer in a sexual way.

Reaching her table, he pushed the milkshake halfway across it. He put one hand on the back of the booth, the other flat on the table in front of Buffy and leaned into her, invading her personal space. "No more shakes or bananas," he ground out. "Or I'm going tie you up and allow every soddin' male who's got a hard on because of you have a turn, understand?"

It was a lie, he'd kill any of the gits who tried to get into her knickers, searing pain or not. But it was a threat that she would understand and quickly realize what she'd done to him and every other hetero bloke in the place.

"Y-yes," Buffy stuttered in reply.

Spike nodded once. Then, pushing back from the table, he stalked out of Scoops, his duster flying out behind him from the gust of wind as he opened the door.



End 1