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NC-17

Thanks:  As always to Pipergirl for betaing.

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 Chapter 1

 

*God, I’m late!*

 

Elizabeth Summers, or Buffy to her friends, quickly walked the crowded Soho sidewalks and crossways to the small gallery her best friend Willow managed.  They had agreed to ‘do lunch’ and as usual she was running late.  Willow would probably be chomping at the bit to give the blonde a tour of the art-du-jour in the gallery and try to make up for all the cultural experiences she thought Buffy lacked.  Buffy for the most part could care less about most pieces.  Sure, some were pretty or vaguely interesting but she never was overly excited or impressed.  Sometimes she thought maybe Willow was right, she was under cultured.  God knows she was right about the under socialized aspect.

 

Buffy was a petite, attractive late 20-something with a head for business, but a tendency to hermit herself away during non-business hours.  She was happy enough she supposed, but she had to agree with Will.  She needed to get out and have new experiences, really ‘live life like she meant it’.  On this day however, she just wanted to get to her friend and find a nice lunch spot where they could sit and chat.

 

As Buffy reached the gallery and glanced at her watch she was delighted to find she was only a couple of minutes late.  None the less she threw open the heavy door and half jogged in.  Before she could yell out to her friend, she was assaulted by color on two of the usually antiseptic white walls.  *Am I in the right place?*  So stunned was she by her surroundings that her next step was directly into a tray of paint.

 

“Fuck!”  She yelled as she drew up her foot from the tray.  The shocked woman had stepped hard enough to not only get her left boot paint covered, but also splashed paint up her leg and thigh.  

 

“Do you kiss your mum with that mouth?” The smart ass reply came from the back, admiring the lovely woman who started spouting obscenities.  Spike just adored a cute chit with a foul mouth, and this one was cuter than most.  

 

 She looked up and saw a sight that made her jaw go slack and almost made her knees buckle, sending her to a more paint-filled future.  'He was stunning.  No, he was more than that.  Wearing only a white wife beater, black jeans and boots, the man's body was muscular, tight, and hard, with a speckle of paint here and there.

 

“Oi, are you alright?”  His strong accented voice echoed in the mostly empty room and he noticed her predicament as he drew nearer.  He smiled and picked up a rag.  When he got close enough he placed his hand on her arm and gave it a light rub and bent down slightly to look her in the eye, and asked again, “Are you alright?”

 

Looking into those ocean blue eyes her only reply was a nod and a grunted squeak. 

 

Spike tilted his head and raised a scarred eyebrow questioningly.  He had a way with women, and he knew it, but it didn’t usually make them speechless.  Well, not like this anyway.  Her glassy green eyes didn’t let go of his gaze.

 

An out of breath red head came whirling in the door at a frantic pace.  “I’m so sorry I’m late Buffy.” 

 

The blond just nodded.

 

“Your friend, she has a real way with words, Red.” Spike said looking briefly to Willow but then refocusing on the paint covered mute.

 

Willow, taking in the blushed, flustered, and painted state of her dearest friend, decided to be practical, “I’ll get some more stuff to help clean her up.”

 

Spike took Buffy’s hand and led her to one of the display pedestals a few steps away.  He grabbed her by the waist and sat her upon it.  “I’m going to clean you up a bit, yeah?”  He proceeded to clean her boots and legs with gentle strokes.  The gesture was done with such care and meticulousness it made Buffy smile.

 

“Thanks, “she managed to say in a whisper.

 

“She speaks.”  A warm smile was returned to her.

 

When their eyes met there was no denying that there was more than a spark.  There was fire.  A fire so intense that they both had to look away.

 

Spike was still unconsciously rubbing her booted leg, when his retreating glance noticed her lacy panties.  *Panties!*  He hadn’t realized, and hoped she hadn’t either, that between the pedestal and him holding her leg up that a view up her short skirt was, well - quite a view.  Clenching his jaw, he lowered her leg a bit and tried to get a reign on his ever growing lust for the girl from whom he had only heard two words – ‘fuck’ and ‘thanks’.  Thinking he would like to hear those two words from her again and again put a wolfish smirk on his face.

 

“Aren’t the walls supposed to be white?”  Buffy was thoroughly impressed with herself.  She formed a sentence.

 

“Says who?”  was his immediate response.

 

Opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, Buffy creased her brow and struggled for a perfectly logical answer that wouldn’t come. 

 

Willow came back into the room carrying a few wet rags to help tidy up her friend.  Spike reluctantly excused himself to clean up the gallery when he realized that fondling – no, cleaning - Buffy was not a two person job and she would probably appreciate having her friend help, instead of a complete stranger.

 

Watching her flushed friend, Willow softly noted with a wide grin, “He’s a bit of all right, isn’t he?”

 

“Huh?  Um-yeah.  This is good Wills.  I don’t think I could get any cleaner.” 

 

Buffy’s garbled answer made Willow chuckle.  She’d never seen Buffy so taken

 

“Ready for lunch?  I’m starved.”  The red-head commented.

 

Still looking at the rear doorway Spike disappeared through, Buffy nodded in the affirmative.

 

“Spike, I’ll be back to help you set up after lunch.” Willow yelled to the back.

 

The handsome man that took Buffy’s breath away yet again stood in the office doorway and smiled.  Willow took Buffy’s hand and tugged her toward the door.

 

“Oh, Red?  Is your friend, Buffy is it, going to be at my show tomorrow?”  The question was directed to the gallery manager but his eyes were aimed at the little blond that had captured his complete attention in a matter of minutes.

 

Willow looked at Buffy to make sure she wasn’t doing that fish out of water thing she does when she gets anxious and prayed that she would reply.

 

“Ummm, yeah, sure.”

 

With that, Williow dragged her friend out the front door before she could embarrass herself any more.

 

“Hey Will?  Aren’t the walls supposed to be white?  D-Did you call him Spike?”

 

Willow breathed a sigh of relief; her friend was starting to regain some semblance of brain activity.

 

Chapter 2

 

The gallery was packed full of people and Buffy quickly started to remember why she didn’t usually come to events like this.  She felt out of her element.  Sure she could dress the part, which always made her feel a little bit better and tonight was no exception.  She had on her little red pleated skirt on with a sheer red top over a black silky tank.  Red heels finished off the simple ensemble.  Her beautifully tanned skin allowed her to wear very little make-up and no stockings.  *If only I wasn’t in a room of art groupies.*  She sighed and took a couple steps further into the room searching for Willow.

 

 

“You look lovely this evening.” The deep smooth voice from the previous day interjected from behind, tearing Buffy’s mind away from the hunt for her friend and weakening her knees.  The thrilled woman turned around to see a vision in black.  His body was encased in a perfectly tailored shirt and trousers, with his shirt unbuttoned just enough to get a glimpse of the hard, porcelain chest that lay beneath.  His shock of blond hair was smoothed back making his look a little more dangerous than his curls did the day before. “I’m glad you could come.  I don’t think we really were introduced properly.  I’m Spike.”  Taking a hold of her hand he raised it up to give a lingering kiss never breaking eye contact with the blonde.

 

 

 Buffy’s inner animal wanted her to claim him then and there but was held back by civility.  *Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr* she thought and licked her lips like a hungry wolf.  *No!  No, no, no, no, no, no!*  She decided then and here that this handsome man wasn’t going to get a repeat chance to see befuddled Buffy.  He was going to see her.  The real her: open, honest and well – kinda blunt.  “Hello, I’m Buffy,” she said with a Chesire cat’s grin.  “And I'm sure that little trick,” she gestured at her lip stung hand, “wows ‘em a lot better than any line you could think up.”

 

 

Spike’s smile widened and he stepped closer into her personal space.  “Baby, that trick is reserved for platinum members only.”

 

 

“I’m sure that’s a real hardship for you considering I met you a little over 24 hours ago.”  She said with an amused smirk.

 

 

“Maybe,” he whispered close to her ear, “but in all my life there’s only been one other member in that very special club.”  Buffy struggled to take a breath at his revelation.  He winked and turned to walk away from a very flushed blonde and said, “Don’t go anywhere, I want to chat you up for a bit.”

 

 

*Oh I’ll stick around alright.  A bulldozer probably couldn’t drag me out of this gallery.*

 

 

The idea of being with the sharp witted girl excited him, making his stride a little lighter.  *Hummm.  That’s hasn’t happened in a long, long time* he thought to himself.  

 

 

He was true to his word. When he wasn’t speaking with a potential buyer he was by Buffy’s side discussing any and every topic, their deepest secrets to the most mundane of ideas.

 

 

Buffy found through their conversations that she was right to lust after Spike and the rogue he outwardly appeared to be; he was charming beyond anything she’d ever known.  A true charmer of a man that made her body tingle with energy and ache with want.  But wonders never cease and she came to find that she was attracted even more *is that even possible* to William (he gave up his real name after much prodding).  William was an intellectual and she suspected quite the emotional man.  The more they spoke the more she could feel him opening up to her.  She was half annoyed with herself at how her insides turned to mush when he displayed his sentimental side, talking about his family or places that meant a lot to him for one reason or another.  How could a he have this affect on her, so quickly?

 

 

Spike was beside himself.  The woman to whom he was attracted the day before was quickly evolving into the woman of his dreams. Tonight she had stepped beyond the cute speechless girl and showed herself to be smart, sexy and more than a bit cheeky.  Unlike so many others, she never backed down from her opinions, and often bit back with her quick wit.  She was totally open to him.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

 

 

Willow was excited for the pair.  She could see the interest they held in each other reflected in their eyes.  She noticed that Spike kept an eye on Buffy throughout the evening no matter where he was in the gallery, his glare giving away the protective and somewhat possessive nature of the glances.  Buffy was completely smitten, her radiant smile never fading.  The red head was amazed at how quickly her friend had let this man in.  *Wonders never cease.*

 

 

As the guests in the gallery started to dissipate Spike asked Buffy if she would like a guided tour of his work.  Gladly accepting his offer, they proceeded to roam slowly throughout the gallery.  His hand rested on the small of her back steering her around the sculptures stopping to show her different angles and make comments about the intent or subject matter of his work.  Huddled together they spoke in library voices, their demeanor telling all who noticed not to interrupt the couple.

 

 

Buffy asked questions finding that understanding the art was akin to understanding the man.  She made note of the extremes in some of the work, taking in the sharp angles and severe curves while other pieces seemed smooth, sensuous, and peaceful with graceful lines and curvature.

 

 

He was taken by her comments of his work, and loved the fact that she seemed to find her own interpretations as well.  “So, have I another art junkie on my hands?” he coyly asked.  He didn’t so much care if she became an ‘art junkie,’ but sure as hell wanted to make her a Spike junkie.

 


”I don’t know about ‘junkie,’ but if you’re lucky maybe an admirer.”  Her eyes giving away her teasing statement.  “I’ve got to tell Wills something then I’m going to visit the ladies room and I’ll be right back.  Ok?”

 

 

“Ok” he said reluctantly, taking a breath when his hand lost contact with her back, but enjoying the view of her backside as she strolled away.

 

 

The friends spoke for a few moments then Buffy excused herself and walked toward the back of the gallery.  She opened the door to the washroom, stepped in and was immediately seized around the waist and hauled against a hard body.  As she gasped in surprise she looked up into smoldering blue gaze of the man she had become enraptured with in just an evening.  *How could I only have met him yesterday?*  In an instant, his mouth descended upon hers. 

 

 

The kiss began with a few soft flurried caresses but quickly escalated to need and desire.  Spike’s tongue scanned the length of Buffy’s top lip, followed by the bottom, urging her to share in the mounting passion that had erupted.  Without hesitation she threw her whole body into the embrace, arms encircling his neck, tongue dueling with his.

 

 

Bodies pressing and clambering to get closer – to feel more.

 

 

Spike pulled back panting, looking at a woman who made him more dizzy with need than anyone he could remember, black lust filling his eyes.  “Buffy, I’m gonna take you home and make love to you all night long, but I need you.  I need you now.  I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t have you.”  

 

 

His words took on an almost pleading quality and Buffy allowed her heart and soul overrule logic and answered, “I need you too.”

 

 

Descending on her lips like a starved man, he started taking what he sought.  His hands scanned her body frantically, tracing its every curve, squeezing the globes of her ass and the mounds of her breasts.

 

 

Buffy was overtaken by the passion she held for this man, never had she been this unrestrained – and wild.  Her hands ran through his bleached locks rapidly, unlocking the curl from its gelled imprisonment.  Just as quickly she felt her way down his muscled back to his firm ass.  Deciding she couldn’t wait any longer she moved to unbutton his shirt raking her hands and nails over the chiseled plains underneath.

 

 

They were a world unto themselves.  The only sounds were of their needy moans and impassioned kisses.

 

 

Again Spike backed off breathless, this time spinning Buffy around and planting her hands on the sink countertop in front of the large mirror.  Buffy blinked wide-eyed into the mirror that reflected her and Spike from the thighs up.  Staring she thought *this is quite possibly the sexiest man to ever exist.*  With her body humming like a tuning fork she watched as Spike flipped up the back of her skirt and fondled her ass.

 

 

Spike was in heaven.  *I’ve known this girl forever.  It’s just that until yesterday she resided in my imagination.*  He had caught Buffy’s gaze in the mirror and held it for as long as he could while drawing down her black lace panties that were barely more than a thong.  He leaned over her taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent before placing a light kiss at the bottom of her spine.  Making eye contact with her again in the mirror, he reached for his pants.

 

 

Buffy knew need.  This was need!  She stared into the depths of her soon-to-be lover's eyes through the mirror's reflection.  It was all so overwhelmingly erotic that she had to shut her eyes as his hands went to his belt.  She shivered when she heard clink of his belt and the sound of a descending zipper.  Her eyes flew open to meet his when she felt his cock rubbing back and forth over her moist folds.  His hands ran over her thighs and rump taking in the softness of her skin.  This wasn’t her first time, yet she had never experienced anything as erotic as watch him move his hard shaft along her moist, swollen folds.  It left her thinking *this is what they write books, poems, and songs about.*

 

 

Continuing to caress her body, Spike appreciated the way her high heeled shoes made her back arch more dramatically pushing her ass higher and pussy back.  He mumbled her name and entered Buffy in one long luxurious stroke.

 

 

“Ahhhh!”  Buffy was consumed by the feel of being filled with Spike’s dick.  Both feeling truly connected for perhaps the first time.

 

 

He began to pound into Buffy’s sopping channel only to stop suddenly.  Her eyes questioned him as he leaned forward and shoved her tank up and bra down revealing the firm peaks of her breasts.  Taking them in hand he squeezed both of them roughly.  “Want to see you tits bounce while we fuck.”

 

 

Buffy moaned a deep guttural moan and her vaginal muscles clenched in response.

 

 

“Damn, Buffy!”  His face scrunched up looking as if he was in pain.  Spike rested his head on her back briefly trying to reign in his libido.  When he entered her he had found perfection.  Who knew perfection could squeeze so tight?  He soon resumed his position with his hands on her hips thrusting deep and hard, eyes locked to the moving picture they made in the mirror.

 

 

They moved against one another desperate to find release.  The air filled with the aroma of sex and the sound of grunts, moans, and slapping flesh.

 

 

Buffy was so close, she took one hand from the countertop and placed it on her clit.  After a few trembling sweeps of her moist digit she could feel her inner walls start to flutter.  A couple more strokes made her walls seize Spike’s intruding member and she gasped for air as she writhed in orgasm.

 

 

Feeling her cunt spasm around his shaft he followed her to climax holding her hips tight to him while he jerked helplessly as he unloaded his creamy spunk into her pussy.

 

 

When they both gathered themselves together enough to open their eyes they just starred at one another.

 

 

Buffy was the first to speak, “Wow!”

 

 

Spike smirked, “I’ll take your ‘wow’ happily and give you a hot damn.”  Spike brought Buffy up for a slow, gentle kiss.  “Pet, I don’t mean to rush yet again, but let’s get out of here.  This is a swell loo and all but my place is much more comfortable.  Yeah?”

 

 

The ravished blond giggled and shook her head in the affirmative.  The quickie in the bathroom had been better than anything she’d ever experienced and she REALLY wanted to see what he could do in a bed.  She didn’t have to be asked twice.

 

 

After helping each other dress and checking their appearance, they exited the bathroom arms around one another.

 

 

The gallery only had a few stragglers left.  Seeing Willow out of the corner of his eye, Spike called out, “Red, I’ve got to go.  You can handle everything from here right?”  *I’ve got to go home and make a girl mine* he possessively thought.

 

 

Buffy called out a quick, “Bye Wills.”

 

 

Spike and Buffy didn’t wait for a response as they strode toward the front doors.

 

 

Nor did Willow comment on the couples disheveled appearance and the hand placed contentedly on Buffy’s behind.

 

Chapter 3

 

They walked through the streets like lovers.

 

 

 

 

 

They now were of course, and both were contented to hold and be held by the other and pass the walk to Spike’s apartment laughing and chatting like long lost friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he requested, “I want to know everything about you.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Ok, I will if you will.  We’ll take turns.”  With an agreed nod of their heads they began.  “There’s always chocolate soy milk and diet cherry Coke in my fridge, ALWAYS.”

 

 

 

 

 

He chuckled and continued the game, “I hate canned spinach.”

 

 

 

 

 

“I don’t wear panties when I wear pants.”

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m not wearing underwear right now,” the artist smirked suggestively.

 

 

 

“I believe this game was to tell me something I DON’T KNOW!  You sir,” she put a finger to his chest, “have to take another turn.”   

 

 

 

Soon the couple reached the converted warehouse.  Spike gave Buffy a quick kiss on the temple and released her from his embrace before unlocking the common entry of the old building.  Taking her by the hand he led the petite blonde up four flights of stairs to the top floor, coming to stop at the last of three doors in the hallway.

 

 

 

After turning on a few lights he pulled her in.  Buffy drew a breath and her eyes widened as she took it all in.  The apartment had the same industrial feel as the rest of the building had, as one would expect in this type of renovation: exposed brick, pipe and venting.  What she wasn’t prepared for was the vast expanse of the unit.  There were only four walls: one lined with large unobstructed windows, another wall was brick, and the remaining two walls were painted the same colors he had painted the gallery walls, blood red and royal blue.  The only barrier of the studio was a corner that had glass block enclosing what she assumed to be the bathroom.   

 

 

 

The guest then turned her focus to the furnishings.  Right by the entry was the kitchen with stainless steel appliances; the long island that ran parallel to the kitchen wall gave it a galley feel. The living room was denoted by a large rug surrounded by a comfortable looking upholstered sofa, leather chair and of course a TV with all the electronic trimmings. 

 

Spike had a station for each of his media.  His easels and canvases took up a large space by the windows.  A long table held countless tubes, bottles and trays of paint along with an army of brushes.  Across the room was a pedestal adorned with a large stone obviously in the process of being transformed.  Again a side table held the hammers, chisels and other instruments required for the craft.  Beyond that rested what surely was a king-sized bed with a wrought iron head and foot board.  Side tables with lamps flanked it, and at the foot of the bed rested a heavy looking chest on yet another richly hued rug.

 

“Would you like some wine, Luv?”  His question broke Buffy away from further inspection.

 

 

She followed him towards the kitchen, her high heels tapping against the hardwood floors, “that would be nice, thanks.”

 

 

Buffy leaned against the island as she watched him, taking in his lean form as he reached up into the cabinet for glasses and, with skilled hands, uncorked the bottle.  Coming over to stand in front of her he handed her a glass.  They stood there for a few moments sipping their wine looking at each other wantonly.

 

“You know,” she state matter-of-factly setting her glass on the counter, “you’re gonna have to kiss me.”

 

 

“Ya don’t say?”  With a raised eyebrow the bleached man leaned in closer, “Now why would I want to go and do something like that?”

 

 

“Well, for starters, if you don’t I might get a little cranky; second,” Buffy said as she wrapped her arms around his waist, “you would be missing a very…nice…kiss…” punctuating her words with kisses along his jaw.

 

 

 

Placing his glass on the counter Spike took her face in his strong hands, “Oh, I think we can do better than ‘nice’.”

 

They came together softly, sweetly.  Gently discovering each other for the first time, really noticing everything about their partner, something their first coupling didn’t let them do.  The blonde couples’ tongues caressed and soothed.  Spike deepened the embrace by tangling his hands into the long locks of her hair and pulling her head back completely vulnerable to his touch.  Buffy’s hands played along his back, pulling his chest tightly against hers.  Spike’s hips firmly pinned her to the cabinetry, allowing his hard bulge to express desire without words.  

 

 

Buffy pulled back breathless.  “I’m not saying we can’t ever again, but just this once could we move this to a location where a countertop is not involved?”  All things considered she would have done anything, anywhere that he wanted.  He lit her on fire.  A raging inferno that she’d never experienced before.  

 

 

He smiled taking her hand, “absolutely, Luv,” leading her to the plush bed she’d been ready to try out since she’d laid eyes on it.

 

 

With every click of her heels, the wetter she became. *I’m losing it, completely losing it. This is too good to be real.*

 

 

Spike grabbed her hands and kissed her as he lowered her onto the bed.  Moving to stand beside it, he removed her shoes then his own.  Before he rejoined her on the bed he took a moment to just look at her spread out on his bed.  She was gorgeous, hair fanned around her, arms spread hands above her head, legs parted invitingly.  It made his heart surge with joy.  *Amazing.  Gonna make her mine.*

 

She watched him looking at her, drinking her in, his eyes glazed over and body taut.  She felt so feminine.  Her bosom heaved with exhilaration and anticipation.  Buffy held her arms out to him, asking silently for him to join her.  *Come to me, fall with me.*

 

Happily he complied, covering her body with his.  The long-tressed blonde wrapped her legs around his as he ground his denim covered groin against her throbbing heat.  With wandering hands, they took time to discover what they had been previously forced to rush through.

 

He sat back on his feet as he reached to unbutton her blouse, guiding her to sit up as he pushed it off her shoulders and pulled her tank over her head.  His hands covered her lacy mounds then reached around to her back to undo the clasp.  As he pulled back he brought the garment with him to discard on the floor.  He placed a chaste kiss on the top of both breasts and laid her back down, placing his attention to her lower half and ridding her of her skirt and panties at the same time.  Spike felt in control and out of control all at the same time.  His mind swam with possibilities of what that meant.  It scared him, but it excited him even more.  It had been so long since he had felt anything akin to this kind of emotion.

 

She was bare and beautiful and perfect in his gaze.

 

The bleach blond stood to rid himself of his clothing, but he didn’t get very far.  He only had undone a couple of buttons before he heard a determined, “Stop.”

 

 

Looking up he saw the object of his affection getting off the bed, only to stand before him and continue her statement.  “Let me.”  She began to unbutton the black shirt placing wet kisses on his chest where buttons used to be.  *God!  He’s beautiful.  Who carved this work of art?*  She slowly walked behind him pulling at his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. 

 

 

Spike’s breathing deepened and he tried to reign it back to normal.  *The way she touches, soft and sure.*

 

Buffy’s hands met at the buckle of his belt, slowly undoing it; then she worked on his zipper, while placing light kisses and nuzzling his upper back and neck teasing him a little by lightening the touch to almost nothing at times.  Releasing his pants they fell to the floor.  Placing herself tighter against his back she rested her chin on his shoulder and breathed him in.  *He’s so warm* she thought to herself and sighed.  

 

Feeling her breasts against his back and her hot breath in his ear was positively sinful.  *this is going to be amazing.*  Her hold on his waist tightened and her other hand wrapped itself securely around his cock, stroking gently.  *Heaven.*  Spike let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  He had never been so sensuously undressed and fondled.

 

 

“Spike,” she said quietly in his ear, “I want you to talk to me.”  Before he could question he words, she continued, “I want to know what you want, what you need, and how you feel.”  

 

 

“I can do that sweetheart.”  He turned in her arms to look her in the eyes.  “You have to promise me the same.  And not just here, now, like this.  I want you Buffy.  I want all of you.  I want you to open yourself up to me, only me.”

 

 

With tears in her eyes she replied, “I want all that too.  I want you Spike.”

 

Lips came together, needful bodies landed on the bed.  He moved over her entering slowly allowing them both the pleasure of feeling the connection inch by inch.  They rocked slowly against each other, hands intertwined, trading passionate kisses. 

 

 

Making love. 

 

Moving together for what seemed like hours they came together in a blissful wave of ecstasy.

 

Spike placed himself by Buffy’s side, drawing her in closer into his embrace where they fell into a sated sleep.  

 

 

More please...

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