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Family Ties
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Family Ties

The hotel room is large, a suite.  Spike jokingly called it the love nest.  It seems to fit now, the room dark, lit by candles scattered over every available surface, the gigantic, king-size bed covered in lush dark colors, heaped with pillows.  Pillows that are being put to good use now.  Tara is reclined against them, their dark colors showing off her pale, milky skin and golden hair. She holds her lover cradled between her hips, back to belly, hands stroking fiery red hair and pale, freckled skin.  Willow leans back against Tara, shuddering in arousal and nerves as her childhood friend, high school crush, kneels between her spread legs, fingers cording through her coarse curls as he tests her wetness, prepares to enter her. Spike, unearthly pale skin glowing golden in the candle light, lays on his side next to them, one hand busy stroking and petting his mate, smoothing down Xander's strong back and across his tensed thighs, soothing, comforting, arousing.

 

This should be wrong, seems strange at first glance. Childhood friends, practically brother and sister, brought to this point. So many years after that one illicit kiss, trapped in the school, kidnapped by the Vampire that even now lovingly strokes his mate's cock: a possibility opened and just as quickly closed down.  When Willow and Tara asked, over a year ago, if Xander would consider fathering a child for them, it was never assumed that it would all come down to this.  A hotel room, lots of wine, and a fertility spell to ensure conception.  But two friends with so much history between them finally decided that this was right, and what could their lovers do but oblige them?

 

Xander meets Willow's passion filled green eyes, as wide and dilated as his own, as he positions himself.  Slowly, so slowly he slides into her.  Into a heat and wetness he hasn't felt in many long years. Nothing like his husband, like Spike's so tight, slick channel that he loves to bury himself in.  Willow is hot, wetness of a different kind, and looser, but still her walls flutter around him, clamp down to grip him, and he kisses her softly as he begins to thrust. 

 

Willow moans and cants her hips to meet Xander's thrusts, impaling herself on hard flesh, a feeling she hasn't felt since Oz left her, so many, many years ago.  It is different, and good, but not as good as her wife's hands that are even now kneading her breasts in that way she loves so.

 

Tara moans as Xander's thrusts press Willow back against her own wet heat.  This is not her moment, not meant to be her pleasure; yet each thrust into Willow feels like a thrust into her, and she relaxes into the ride, enjoying the illicit sensations.

 

Thrusting in and out of Willow's wetness, watching as his cock disappears into a thatch of red curls, Xander is suddenly thrown back to high school, to months of adolescent fantasies about his friend, practically sister, desire all the more enhanced by the wrongness of it and he closes his eyes, losing himself in the long forgotten fantasies as they overlap the present moment. 

 

Both Willow and Xander have their eyes closed now, both lost in the sensations of the thrust, push, glide of their bodies and the history being dredged up between them, the long forgotten desire they had shut off so long ago.  Tara sees this, understands, and crawls out from under her beloved, leaving the two friends to their moment. She crawls over to where Spike lays, spread out on the bed, idly stroking his shaft.  She kneels beside him, lets her hand close over his, rests it there and follows along for the up-down ride along his pale cock.  He meets her eyes, his own blue ones asking a question he never thought to voice.  She thinks a moment, considers.  Tonight is not for them, they will not produce a child this night, but that doesn't mean they can't go along for the ride.  She leans forward, kisses him chastely, no tongue, that is only for Willow, and he returns the brush of lips, lies back on the bed, hands at his sides, and allows her to straddle his hips in her own time.  Allows her to brush her fingers along his cock, learning it, exploring it, allows her to take her own time in easing herself down onto his hard length.  She settles around him, panting slightly, and he brushes her long hair out of her face, caresses her cheek, tries to get used to the feeling of warm, wet, feminine folds enclosing his shaft. Buffy is the only living, human woman he has ever been with, and that so long ago.  Tara feels vastly different, yet achingly familiar, and he wars with the need to buck up into her, struggles to let her go at her own pace.

 

Tara feels the stretch and burn, perversely glad for Spike's cool flesh that immediately soothes the burn it causes.  She has never had this before.  She has had Willow's fingers, Willow's hand, Willow's tongue and their own silicone toys inside her, but never living, or unliving, male flesh and blood pressing deep into her.  It is different, yet good, and she aches to move, so she does, reaching out her hands, entwining them with Spike's and starting up a gentle rocking motion, concentrating on the sensations shooting through her body. 

 

Beside them, Willow has her legs locked around Xander's waist, her hips snapping up to meet each of his downward thrusts. Her small, soft hands dig furrows up and down his back; pluck at his arms, so different than the pale, strong hands that normally beg him for release.

 

Tara rides faster now, sensing that Willow and Xander will not last much longer.  She sits up, slams down, and gasps at the shock waves this sends through her body.  She sees the look of need flash across Willow's face, recognizes the sounds issuing from her wife's throat.  Tara reaches a hand out, threads fingers through Xanders' sweat damp hair, pulls his head back and around till he sees her, focuses on her.  "Bite her, gently, on the underside of her breasts.  Use your thumb and press down hard on her clit, she likes that best."

 

Xander nods, rearranges his arms.  Left hand going up to cradle Willow's head, fingers threaded through hair.  Right hand squirms down between their bodies.  He leans over, kisses her deeply, once more, then begins to bite and suck on her breasts, another sensation that is so long unexperienced as to be practically new.  He finds her little nub, achingly hard and erect, and presses, rubs firmly and Willow screams, arching into him, thrusting frantically against him as her body is wracked with orgasm.  Her walls clenching around him, and knowing that he has given her this, and the ever present thought that they are creating life this night, push him over the edge and his hips piston into her as he empties his seed deep, as deep as he can get.  They collapse together, breathing hard, hands lightly stroking along sweat dampened skin as they turn to watch their spouses pleasure each other.

 

Tara is moaning now, grinding herself down hard onto Spike's hips.  The Vampire, overwhelmed by the new sensations and the scents of sex and lust in the room, grinds just as frantically up into the woman above him, each of them single mindedly seeking their own pleasure.  Spike's hands find her nipples, pinch and twist, and Tara is gone, shuddering out her climax, head thrown back, pale throat bared enticingly.  Spike follows soon after, emptying himself into her, a strange and possessive feeling overtaking him as he realizes that his is the first seed to find its way inside her, and probably the last. 

 

Tara collapses against the Vampire's cool chest, lies still and catches her breath.  Cool hands stroke her back and comb tangles out of her hair as she recovers.  Looking up, she smiles into gentle blue eyes, brushes one last kiss against pale lips, and climbs off, seeking out her beloved.

 

Xander withdraws gently from Willow, taking the pillow Tara offers him and placing it under the redhead's hips, elevating them enough to keep his seed inside, where it belongs.  Spell notwithstanding; they are not taking any chances tonight.  Tara curls up around a sweaty, stated Willow and Xander crawls gratefully over to his mate, his love, and drapes himself over the cool, familiar body.  Spike's hands stroke his sweaty skin, soothing and comforting, and Xander kisses those cool, longed for lips happily.  Burying himself in the familiar.  Their kiss quickly heats up and, understanding the need to reclaim his mate, feeling it himself, Xander eagerly spreads his legs for the cool, slick fingers that are suddenly at his entrance.  They prepare him roughly and he sits up, impaling himself on Spike's cool length eagerly.  They fuck fast, rough, reclaiming each other rather than making love.  Spike's hands on Xander's hips guide him in the quick, staccato rhythm of their coupling.  They hear moans from beside them and look, unsurprised to see Tara rocking herself on Willow's hand, Willow's slender fingers buried deep inside, Tara's own hand returning the favor, buried between Willow's legs, fucking her wife with abandon. 

 

The women beside them are soon forgotten as Xander pulls Spike into a sitting position, bearing his throat in mute entreaty to his mate.  Spike pulls his husband close, licking up the long column of his neck before morphing into game face and sinking fangs into his mate's flesh.  Xander cries out, hot seed spurting between their bodies, riding out his orgasm before recovering enough to lean down and sink teeth into his mate's pale flesh, eagerly drinking the blood that wells to the surface.  Spike howls and shoots deep inside him, marking Xander with blood and semen and scent, reclaiming in the most primal of ways. 
 
The two men fall exhausted to the bed, curl up around one another, share sleepy, stated smiles with the two women mirroring their position on the other side of the bed.  The four allow drowsiness to overtake them and drift into dreamy thoughts.  The women dream of the child they have just created, the second addition to their family, dreaming of the possibilities and a future full off laughing children.  The men spare a yearning thought for their own daughter, barely two years old, unused to her daddies being gone overnight, and wonder if she is okay, if she misses them.  They too, wonder about this child they have just created, the possibilities of the future.  All four fall asleep dreaming of family.

 

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