Buffy Beaten update

Xander woke up next to an angel. And the bed felt heavenly. Not lumpy or itchy like his own bare mattress. Silk sheets, glossy as pearls, and as soft as the woman lying next to him. 

No wonder Cordelia had an ego. She was perfect. Perfect hair, perfect tits, perfect ass, tangled up in the sheets like they were wrapping paper for a gift no one could possibly deserve. And the pièce de résistance was the expression on her face. The happy, even dopey face of a woman who’d been fucked silly, as though she were still recovering from the bang he had laid on her last night—and perhaps she never wanted to recover from it.

Xander was just as naked as she was, feeling the soft caress of the covers all over his body. It all proved a maddening combination, his nudity, hers, the bed, the thought of what they’d done during the blank hours preceding sleep. He couldn’t remember, the alcohol dulling his memory to a haze of pleasure, but what else could’ve happened? He was naked, she was naked, and they’d shared a bed. He wasn’t a virgin anymore. He’d lost it to Cordelia frickin’ Chase.

His erection, if it had ever flagged from the morning wood he’d been afflicted with ever since puberty, sprang to demanding life, the kind of physically painful hard-on that had to be dealt with. He couldn’t remember actually doing it with Cordelia, so he felt obliged to reenact the deed as soon as possible. Every primitive lust that had ever existed was awakening in his body, and he could see that Cordelia wasn’t much different, moaning in her sleep, turning her head to show off the perfect symmetry of her features.

“Xander,” she sighed, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to have her now or his cock would fly off and do the deed itself. 

Xander mounted her, taking his tumescent prick in hand to lead it to her moistly splayed opening. A wet dream, he wondered, or leftovers from the night before. It didn’t matter. He guided his blunt cockhead into her, spreading the ebony hairs, then opening the soft pink lips, finally feeling the resistance of her slit. He strained against it, chuckling to himself about how Cordelia was a tightass through and through. Maybe he hadn’t done the deed properly the other night. Well, he would this time. He’d leave Cordelia permanently bowlegged. From now on, his entries into her would be smooth as butter. 

“Ghhh!” Cordelia cried out. “Nnh!”

He strained deeper and deeper into her tightly clenched sex, sliding slowly into her, the pleasure mounting with every inch he got inside her milking depths. Xander looked her over with a possessive zeal now that his cock was inside her. The long, lean body with its tapering waist, supple hips, sweet teardrop breasts, and ebony hair with a fiery glint, somehow so much more erotic than Buffy’s blonde locks or Willow’s ginger tresses. 

He needed her. Now that he had her cunt, he would never give it up. He didn’t know how he had ever lived without this. He wanted her forever. He wanted to do this every day. His balls tapped against her upturned ass, announcing his full penetration of her. Xander’s eyes clenched shut in a desperate attempt to deny himself an orgasm, though the memory of Cordelia’s naked body soon forced him to open up again and look at her in magnificent full. Her cunt felt amazing, massaging and milking every inch of his cock, and he was determined to pay her back for this good feeling in kind. He was going to fuck her completely senseless.

“Ooooh,” Cordelia moaned, being hilted by Xander’s massive erection bringing her to life. “It’s… it’s in my pussy…”

Her confused, aroused, satiated cries gave Xander a starting signal. Slowly, methodically, he thrust his entire length in and out of her tightly sucking sex. Cordelia’s eyelids fluttered, parting to show her eyes rolled back in her head as she absorbed the pleasure of Xander feeding himself into her. Her breathing hitched, her body trembling, all of her flesh reacting to the sensation of being penetrated.

“Xander… Xandier! Aaaaah!” Cordelia gurgled beneath him, slowly responding to his pistoning rushes inside her. Her hips spun in slow, sensuous circles around him as Xander buried himself in her cunt, passionate flames licking out hungrily from where he fucked her, devouring her sex from the splayed lips to the depths of her womb.

Low, animal groans shot from Cordelia’s parted lips as she locked her thighs around Xander’s waist, crossing her heels behind him to hold their bodies together as the pleasure of him rutting into her went on and on. Through the haze of sleep and lust, she could feel his hips roiling against hers, his cock pounding into her mercilessly as if he were beating her into submission with his love.

Once docile and subservient to Cordelia, wrapped around her little finger by sex and social status, now Xander worked himself into a desperate frenzy, eyes bulging, mouth agape, looking like some primitive simian breeding his mate as he heaved into Cordelia’s body, forcing them both towards completion.

He felt her pelvis grinding against his own, joining him in the rhythm he set of uninhibited lust, either through desire or because she had no choice but to give in. When he had first plunged into her, she had cried out in as much protest as welcome, but now the stimulation of the fuck had taken over, a demonic possession set only on more of what Xander was doing to her. Her hands clutched at Xander’s back, his ass, frantically begging and pulling at his rocking hips as if she could coax him into giving her the orgasm she so needfully wanted, while her body replied to his in such a frenzy that he knew she couldn’t defy him if she wanted to. She was his, body and soul.

In her flushed face and dreamily shut eyes, Xander could see Cordelia was coming closer and closer to climax, her whole body alive with the promise of it, clinging to him as he helped her close in on an almost frightening finale. He reached down to her, curling his fingers in the midnight chill of her hair, encircling her lust-filled face like the night sky around the moon. He pulled on her locks while thrusting harder, faster, bringing them both to a more brutal tempo in which Cordelia’s moans were never-ending. His drive to fuck Cordelia into absolute ecstasy had taken full possession of him. It was an intoxicating mix of desires: to please the woman who was almost a sadomasochistic mistress to him, to turn the tables on the woman who was equally his tormentor, to outright dominate this willing victim until she had no choice but to become his sex slave—an addict to the satisfaction he could give her.

Xander was thinking of all of those things and none of them when Cordelia came back to herself, fully awake, her hands suddenly against his chest, pushing him far away.

“Get the fuck off me, Harris!” His cock shucked its way out of her, suddenly wavering in the open air. “What are you doing?”

Xander was more or less fucked silly himself, dead and dumb to how incensed Cordelia was. He had had ample opportunity to get used to it. “What do you think we’re doing? Same thing we did all night long, Cordy. The horizontal mambo. The beast with two backs. Not sexual relations, if you listen to Bill Clinton…”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” Cordelia insisted, picking up a pillow and throwing it at him.

It couldn’t be. Her? She’d done it with Xander? Xander Harris? No. She would never. But she did feel… but she wouldn’t have. And yet, when she’d slept, there’d been those dreams. And now, when she’d woken up, he’d been inside her, so it was all accompanied fate anyway. And it had felt good. Damn good. But she couldn’t remember it, not most of it—not anything but this frantic demand inside her for Xander to go back to what he’d been doing, to keep fucking her, to never stop fucking her, to make her come and come and come—Xander Harris—getting her off like he was Christian Slater or something. 

Bullshit! She wasn’t that much of a slut. No way had she gotten drunk and lost her virginity to Xander Harris. But her pussy felt so… this had to be what a pussy felt like after it was well-fucked. What else would it feel like? But she couldn’t remember it. The best sex of her life, the only sex of her life, and she’d missed it. All because she couldn’t hold her liquor. Not even liquor. Gin!

“Okay,” Cordelia said, as if she were processing a setback in decorating the prom. “Alrighty… if you fucked me, I want to remember it. So you’d better get over here and… and finish the job.” She fixed him with her deadliest glare, not even bothering with the bedroom eyes that could melt a boy’s heart at a hundred paces. “Fuck me, Xander.”

Xander eyed her in turn. “No.”

Cordelia blinked. “What? ‘No’? What are you saying? You were just… Xander! Now! Fuck me!”

Xander chuckled. She was talking to him like he was a dog straining at the leash. “You can fuck yourself, Cordy. You had your chance. You blew it. I’m not your dildo. If you want this…” He reached down, took hold of his manhood, and shook it at her. God help her, Cordelia swallowed. She did. She did want it. “You can pencil in a nice attitude adjustment for yourself. Maybe ‘morning, Xander, did you sleep well?’ Or you could go fix me a nice breakfast. Maybe bring me the morning paper, or at least the comics.”

Cordelia crossed her arms under her breasts, hoisting them up to get Xander’s attention, but he was entirely blind to her charms. “You are seriously delusional, Harris. I’m actually letting you have a shot at me, like you’ve been begging for since I got boobs, and you’re turning me down? I knew you were an idiot, but I thought you at least had a working set of glands!”

Xander shrugged eloquently. “Been there, done that. It was okay, but you could use a few lessons. And as long as you’re going to be such a biyatch about it, my tutoring schedule is filled up.”

It was a bluff—he could no more remember their fuck, if they’d had one, than Cordelia could. In fact, his hard-on was just about killing him just then. Don’t try to get her to respect you, moron! It screamed. Go for doggy style! You might be able to swing that! It’s not like she wants to look at you anyway!

Cordelia took a deep breath. She was sticky with dried sweat. She ached horribly in the most intimate of places, yet the soreness was incredibly sweet, almost sensual. She had no idea how long Xander had fucked her, or if she’d even been awake for all of it, but it felt like she’d done cheers for twenty hours straight. A real party. And she couldn’t remember any of it.

“Get out,” she told him firmly, even as her body quaked for whatever had knocked her into oblivion the first time around to take another pass at her.

Xander blew one of those miniature raspberries beloved by teenage boys and went to gather up his clothes, strewn around the bed with what little there had been of Cordelia’s clothing in the first place. “Anytime you want to reconsider,” he told her, “just say ‘please, Xander, pretty pretty please, with sugar on top, will you do me a great big favor and fuck me? I’ll be your best friend.’ Maybe throw in something or other about my big cock or how I made you a woman. I think that’ll go over well with the 18-to-35 demographic.”

Cordelia tried to move, to storm up to him and slap him in the face, but all she accomplished was groaning weakly. She could barely move. Her pussy felt like it had been changed irrevocably. She could even feel random shivers running through it, testament to just how much pleasure it had felt when she was unconscious. She must’ve come over and over again for her pussy to be that sensitive. And she had missed it. 

Cordelia opened her mouth, about to unthinkingly demand that Xander had better fuck her brains out right now or else, but he stoppered her up with another quick remark. “Hold that pose, babe. I want to remember you just like that.”

Then he was out the door, leaving Cordelia aggravated to a point just short of raping him, because she damn sure wasn’t apologizing or begging or any other sick masculine patriarchal bullshit that Xander wanted from her. She was a woman. It wasn’t like she needed sex. She didn’t think with her reproductive organs or obsess over boinking like some guy.

Now, where the fuck is my dildo?