Third Time's The Charm
Bridie (bridiefemme@yahoo.com)
Rated: Nc-17
Angelus/Wesley

Whispering to his dead slut in the basement.

Wes, Wes, all this drama for a bit of bottle-blonde lawyer tail? Well, I can’t let an old friend like Wesley wallow in misery like this. Just going to do what any friend would do. Knock him over the head and take him out… for a drink.

It doesn’t take long for his groans upon waking to turn into harsh breathing as he struggles against the bonds I’ve set him in.

“Wes! A bright and wonderful good morning to you!”

Anger flashes in his eyes as he turns toward me.

“Well, not so bright, since you failed, again and the City of Angels is still set on permanent midnight.”

I'm pretty sure he just tried to curse at me. For shame! Guess I’ll have to leave the gag on.

“It’s all right, Wes…really! As a matter of fact – gotta tell you I really appreciate it. C’mon, I’m gonna be the last person to deny you’ve been a hell of a friend lately!” I’m moving closer to him and I can smell the fear he’s trying to mask with that cool ‘Rogue Demon Hunter’ look – and isn’t he just a trooper for trying? “You’ve got to admit – first pulling old Angel from the ocean, then opening up a vein for him…” Leaning down so my face is just over his. “That was really nice of you. And I remember…it was really good.”

He’s flinching…probably because I was licking my lips. What? The memory of a good meal doesn’t get your juices flowing?

“And then…then, Wes, you helped me get rid of that pesky old soul. And that, that is the mark of a true friend.” Drawing my fingers across the scar on his neck. “What is it about you that makes your friends want to leave marks on you?”

He’s trying to talk again; that’s kinda fun. Yeah, I’m definitely leaving the gag in. He’s struggling, but there’s really not too much he can do. I’ve got him trussed up like a Christmas goose…yup, I’ve still got it! Besides, it’s a nice firm bed, he can’t be too uncomfortable. I’ll just settle myself in for a bit of…conversation.

“You know, I thought the scruffy look was good on you, Wes – very GQ meets Lawrence of Arabia, but bondage…I can tell by the way you move it’s really your thing.”

Hmmm…he’s quieted down, just staring at me. Trying to figure out the game, are ya?

“You know, at this point in our relationship, what with the sharing of bodily fluids and smacking Lilah around a bit, I really think I need to be more honest with you.”

Eyes widen a bit. I think I should lean in again for this one.

“You know back there in the cage? When I said I didn’t swing that way?”

Pulse increasing…this is gonna be fun!

“I lied.”

Over the years I've prided myself on my skills as a bringer of pain. You know they don’t just give away titles like ‘The Scourge of Europe’ just for good looks. (But you know I would have won on that count too). Here’s the thing, I’ve gotten really good at understanding what people are saying behind a gag…whether it’s a bit of cloth, like now, or something fancy like a locking ball gag, or hell – even if it’s a mouthful of bloody teeth. And the reserved Englishman here just called me a fucker. Well. Point one for Wesley on perception.

“Yeah, Wes, I’m a fucker. Know what that makes you?”

I can feel his breath hot and sour on my skin.

“The fuck-ee.”

That’s nice. Jump in heart rate. And isn’t that the tang of fear in the air? Let me just taste...God! If he would just stop moving! I have to grab his hair just to get my mouth on his neck, and yes...pausing here with my tongue on his pulse point. That’s fear, and damn, but it’s tasty!

Holding his head still, I breathe in his ear, “What’s the matter, Wes? Don’t wanna play? Got a headache, honey?”

His wrists are going to start bleeding soon if he keeps twisting like that. I’m looking forward to it.

“C’mon…not like you haven’t been asking for it.”

Sharp intake of breath, and oh, yeah…the home team scores.

“Know you want it. Know you wanted…him. It’s why you stuck around; it’s why you kept coming back. God Wes, he tried to kill you!”

I smooth his hair back from his forehead and the gesture stuns him.

“I’ll never forgive him for that, you know.”

He’s blinking at me, kinda stupidly for such a smart guy. Time to get him back on track.

“You think he didn’t feel it when he drank you down? Do you really believe he was so delirious that he wasn’t tasting you? Savoring you?”

Hey! That sounded a lot like a whimper!

My lips against his neck, “I know I will.” And I let it all out in a slow sucking kiss there. Right where I want to be….yeah.

Got a groan this time, and there isn’t just fear anymore, there’s a touch of arousal in his scent. And I put them both there. Aren’t I just a bastard? Thanks.

After careful consideration, I’ve decided that Wesley Wyndam-Pryce here requires a slightly different touch. Not like I’m really going to let him live or anything, well, he might be kind of fun to keep around as a minion. But what the heck, he’s been a pal lately, and less face it – I need a good fuck.

Slide my tongue over a rough cheek and tease a little at dry lips. Pull my body over his and he flinches at that.

“S’okay, Wes. We’re all friends here. Just gotta…you know…relieve some of this tension between us. Get some things out in the open.”

Heh…don’t you just love pop psychology?

Getting the show on the road and I’m quickly stripping us both – stopping to untie his legs. And you know what? He kicked me! Hands bound above his head and that ridiculous superior English smile curled around the gag while I sit here on the floor. Not for long.

I’m on him in a second, and he stills. I’m not sure if I knocked the wind out of him, so I grab his hair and shake him to be sure. If I’m a little less than gentle with lover-boy it’s because I really don’t like getting knocked on my naked ass before a little nookie.

“That wasn’t very nice, Wes.”

Little shit is still grinning.

“You sure you want to play rough with me?” Just a flash of teeth – you know, gotta remind ‘em who’s boss.

I swear to god, he just keeps smiling, and you’re going to have to take my word on this one – he's bucked his hips against mine. Yes siree, cock to cock. And you know what? Old Wes has got some good moves on him. Kinda just lost myself in the moment there and I’m moving with him.

Oh, yeah…mutual gratification - always a good thing. And you know what else? I want that gag off.

He can’t speak at first. Has to keep clearing his throat, and his words are a bit scratchy. “You…you’re going to kill me.”

Not even a question, so I don’t bother to answer, just keep up this lazy thrusting with him.

“So…best make it a good one.”

Holy hell. Brave and kinky. I may have to revise the whole minion thing. Ol’ Wes and I might have a bit of fun in all-night L.A. But, ya gotta be cautious. So I slowly press my open mouth against his, and…Brit boy is sucking on my tongue like he’s done this before. Like he’s done other things before. I’m impressed! And not just with his enthusiasm, but with my own imagination, and yes, I’ve got a great one. Just thinking about his lips glazed with my come has me driving my weight onto him.

His groan vibrates in my mouth, and I’m lifting his legs, bending him as far as he’ll go. Quick spit on my hand that he watches with hungry eyes as I slather a little moisture on my cock.

“S’gonna hurt.”

No shit.

He just nods.

Bracing myself and pushing. Pushing into tight heat and we’re both grunting with it. Oh fuck, he’s pushing back. I’m watching his hands grip tight the ropes, but feel his body loosening and opening to me. Shit…yeah…that’s some good stuff he’s been hiding away!

It’s pure sin the way he just takes me in, his mouth open, eyes closed and Christ but it’s gotta hurt, but his hips are beginning to make these jagged movements upwards, and who am I to stop this? Full steam ahead and I pull back and slam into him completely.

The sound he makes! Damn, I’m glad I took the gag off! Wouldn’t want to miss one syllable of a cry like that. But he’s hard, and moving with me, and right now I just want to fuck him until he passes out. Got to admire a guy that gets off on this kind of pain. Well, I do. Damn, so tight, and his voice is rough, kind of wild –and I wonder where the hell this side of him had been locked up. Nah, I don’t really care.

“Like it, don’t you, Wes?”

Oh…he didn’t like that. Saw a bit of the schoolmaster there. Please Wes, I’ve got you bent in half with my cock up your ass, and you’re not exactly fighting it. True, I’ve got him tied up, but Jesus! The way his hips move…this is not his first time playing bottom-boy.

“C’mon. Tell me, Wes.”

Finally. His wrists are starting to bleed. Told you so. White skin and pretty patterns of red just beginning to spread. So focused on my hips slamming against him (and you know that sound? The sound of sweaty flesh slapping hard together? That's a really great sound.) I almost miss his words. Almost.

“Bite me, Angelus.”

Fuck. Yeah. Don’t know if it’s the words, or his raspy still-polite voice, but I’m coming hard, trying to bury myself deeper in that tight British ass of his. Wow. That was pretty damned fun.

He really does look good tied up and fucked. Nice cock, not too long, but nice and thick, and you know – an old-fashioned guy like me.

And despite the sweat, despite the fact that he’s breathing like he just ran a race, he looks at me and says, “You going to finish me…or finish me?”

You have to admire those kind of balls (yeah, I did).

So I laugh and wrap a hand around his cock and pull it high over his stomach. Really appreciating the way his head falls back, exposing his neck.

And I bite.

I’m thinking I haven’t had the best of luck with these British boys. (No, I’m not about to go on about the 800 years of English oppression). I’m thinking about Penn. About Spike. But what the hell.

Third time’s the charm.

Right?

END