Buffy Beaten update

As Buffy drove to Giles’s place in her mom’s car, she tried to list her concerns: the strange lack of demons, all the sex that seemed to be in the air. It was hard to find a way to phrase it that she could be sure wouldn’t earn Giles’s withering dismissals. It was like she was trying to eat out, but thoughts of Xander and Willow and her mom and Conrad and even Cordelia were rowdy booths all around her, preventing her from focusing…

Eating out. Conrad had eaten Joyce’s pussy and cleaned his cock in her mouth and then her own clean cunt had taken him, every last inch of him…

Buffy tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She’d nearly drifted into oncoming traffic. That was another thing that was weird these days. It seemed harder to think. That was weird, wasn’t it? Buffy couldn’t recall ever thinking that she wasn’t as smart as she had been before, but she was thinking it now. That wasn’t a thing, though, getting dumber. Was it? If it was, would she know or…

Her mind went blank as she focused on the road. Giles. Giles would know what to do. Maybe it was all in her head and she was just psyching herself out with nothing. She pulled up to the curb of Giles’s bungalow and got out. The front door was open. 

Buffy started toward it with a renewed pace, expecting trouble, only to discern Giles in the darkness inside. He was slumped down in the entrance hallway, his fly unzipped, his flaccid cock out, dripping cum onto the tile floor. Buffy stopped short. Giles was breathing, his chest rising and falling steadily, with a contented look on his face like—

Ampata swept into Buffy’s view, stepping out through the front door and shutting it behind her. She wore a pink belly shirt, showing off her tender bronze tummy, with clipped jean shorts far below it, frayed hems high on her long legs. Almost all of her tawny limbs, her tanned torso, was on display, and Buffy could certainly believe she was to thank for how gratified Giles had looked in her brief glimpse.

“Oh, Buffy!” Ampata called in her lush accent as soon as she’d spotted the girl. She tossed her luscious brown locks around like she was going to start in on seducing Buffy now that she’d finished with Giles, though Buffy would’ve believed that Ampata was just like that with everyone. If Buffy looked that way, she supposed she would be too… “Giles has told me so much about you. I’m his new roommate.”

Buffy bit back a quip about how she knew which room they’d mated in. “He, uh, hasn’t mentioned you yet.”

“Yes, it’s all so sudden.” Ampata looked Buffy over, scrutinizing the clothes she wore. Her denim skirt and thick camisole that hung from her clavicle to her pelvis. “I didn’t expect you to be dressed so conservatively. Giles has said you were a very popular girl. I always thought popular girls in California liked to dress sexy.”

“They do, I do,” Buffy said, suddenly defensive for some reason she couldn’t articulate. “But I’m just going to talk to Giles, so I didn’t think I needed to dress up.”

“Clearly,” Ampata said. “Giles also said that you were single. Now, how do you expect to get a man without showing any skin? You know…” Ampata preened and even Buffy felt a stab of desire run through her. “Give them a little taste to whet their appetite? Maybe even let them have a bite or two?”

“I’m not real good with biting,” Buffy said, though even as she said it, it felt like a totally lame response.

“If that’s how you feel about it,” Ampata said with a shrug. “It’s just a shame. You really have a nice body under all that… stuff. I bet you could have any man you wanted. Even someone else’s.”

“I don’t want anyone else’s guy!” Buffy protested, again for no reason she could speak out loud.

“Why not? If all the good men are taken, you can always take them back.” Ampata tossed her hair. “If you’re willing to go the extra mile.”

“I’m—I’m guessing Giles isn’t taking visitors right now, so I guess I’ll move along.”

Ampata grabbed her hand before she could go. “You don’t want to steal another woman’s man?”

Buffy didn’t snatch her arm away, but she couldn’t exactly tell why. Somehow it felt reassuring to be touched—like Ampata cared about her—even if the one she’d come to for comfort was Giles and not this strange daddy’s girl… girl. “If you don’t want to steal, you can always share. Giles, for instance.”

“Giles?” Buffy squeaked.

“He’s almost too much for one woman. I wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands. Not that you’d be interested in him, of course.”

“No! Of course!” Buffy sputtered, cheeks flaming, even as she helplessly recalled Giles’s manhood. Even limp, it was big. Too big for two hands, maybe. Not too big for four. Three would just about cover it, and leave one left over for his balls…

“But maybe one of your friends… one of your friends’ special friends… sharing is caring, after all. If you had a boyfriend and Willow needed a fuck, you wouldn’t keep his cock all to yourself, now would you?”

For a moment, Buffy disappeared into herself—she pictured Willow down on all fours like an animal, her beseeching eyes wide, her lips pulled back in shocked enjoyment. She snaked a hand down to Buffy’s cunt, caressing a pair of swinging balls as the shaft they belonged to jammed itself inside of Buffy.

The man on top of her, fucking her, was Conrad.

“No,” Buffy said breathlessly. “I wouldn’t.”

“And Willow wouldn’t either, I know. That’s what friends are for.”

As clearly as if it were happening right in front of her, Buffy saw, felt Xander’s engorged cock nudging into Willow’s slit. But Willow was eating Buffy’s pussy, and she loved it too much to want any distractions. Oh, she wanted his prick—who wouldn’t?—but she wanted to enjoy it after she’d finished with Buffy’s pussy. She wanted one pleasure at a time, not to gorge herself like a glutton.

“What friends are for…” Buffy moaned gently, still watching it spool out in her imagination, drooling slightly. If she could’ve seen herself, she would’ve thought she was hypnotized—but that wasn’t the version of Buffy she was seeing at the moment.

Willow reached back to dislodge Xander’s prick, but it was throbbing so potently that he just had to be about to come, whether he was inside Willow or not. And she wanted every drop of his cum somewhere in her body—how could she not? So, depraved and enjoying being depraved, she grasped Xander’s manhood and raised it up.

“Fuck my ass, Xander,” Willow breathed. “Then you can have Buffy’s pussy.”

Buffy gasped, her pussy clenching so hard it was almost a climax in itself, and hearing the sound in the real world, she came back to her senses. Ampata was gone. The door to Giles’s house was closed. Buffy became aware of the chill of the evening air, contrasting pointedly with the warmth of Xander and Willow’s bodies as they… as all three of them…

Buffy hugged herself, rubbing her bare arms. That had never happened. It was just her imagination. Probably Giles was just her imagination too—he wouldn’t have fucked a girl just inside his house, ending up post-coital in front of the door like some sleazemobile pimp. But why was her imagination so damn horny lately?

Because she was horny? Because she needed to get laid? Buffy had never been some kind of nymphomaniac before, and she’d had some hot guys in her circle. Hot girls too, for that matter. So what, was she turning into a slut? Could a person just turn into a slut?

Maybe it was a Slayer thing. Like those Vulcans in Star Trek. Every seven years, a Slayer had to fuck her brains out because reasons.

Maybe she should talk to Xander about it. Xander and his big cock—

“No, that was just your imagination!” Buffy told herself out loud. But as she walked back to the car, her pussy ached as if it had been stretched to the limit.

That didn’t feel like her imagination.