OK, Willow, this is it. You wanted gay, you got it. In spades. Perhaps even in pinstripes and polka dots. And it was true. At least in Willow's mind.
Dinah Shore Weekend was supposed to hold the key that unlocked her inner gay stallion, which, according to the chart on her computer, has been pent up for far too long and is dying to be fucked.
"Bucked!" she said nervously to herself. "My inner stallion is totally dying to be bucked."
Only, kinda hard to be either when no one's around. "It's a good thing, too," she thought. "What cowgirl would wanna giddy-up with a more-than-slightly intoxicated, spazzed-out redhead, sitting alone in a hot tub and muttering to herself about thoroughbreds and words that rhyme with "fuck."
And with that thought, Willow wrapped her lightly freckled arms around her slender body, and desperately tried to cover her skimpy-bikini-clad nipples. Feeling rather silly at the moment, she harrumphed and spoke to no one in particular, "This is all your fault, Xander Harris."
"Will, you're one hot tamale. No one in their right mind wouldn't want your good 'n' plenty. Unless you're talking about Mike and Ike..."
"Xander, please stop paying me very strange candy-coated compliments. Does not compute. And also, kinda freaky."
"Sorry, Will, it's just that Anya..."
(that explains the freaky)
"...bribed me last night with tons of sugary goodness if we'd try this new position where I dangle my..."
Willow waved her right hand in front of Xander's blushing face, then clamped both hands over her ears before things got out of hand. "Whoa! Lalalala, not listening now."
"You're right, Will," he began apologetically. Her best friend really did understand. "Sometimes it's even too much for my manly, man bits to handle. And let me tell you, my manly bits can handle..."
Xander was prematurely cut off again. This time by the sound of an unnecessarily loud throat clearing, and the visual of a slightly annoyed redhead -- arms folded and eyes leering, "You're going somewhere with this, I presume. Somewhere not so... Anya?"
"I was. I am!" he said defiantly. "What I'm trying to say my dear, gay friend is that you need to get out there and let the ladies know that you're ready for some of their sweet lovin'." For a minute, Xander had a dreamy, far-away look in his eyes. "Also, your best friend in the whole wide world is dying to hear about it. In glorious Technicolor detail. Or maybe HD? How do you feel about surround sound..."
"Xander Harris! There will be no details of any kind. Not even monochromatically! And even if I do actually find myself in some precarious lesbian position..." Willow let the thought hang there for a moment. She couldn't help but lazily swirl the image of it around in her head. Snapping out of reverie, she decided to play along.
"Actually, you're right. We're friends. Best friends, and I can't wait to tell you all about it. Every. Last. Detail. Right down to the taste of her sweet..."
"Merciful straight male fantasies, Willow! Really?"
"Are you crazy? No! No way! But you should see the face that's happening on your face right now."
"Oof!" he said nervously, quickly wiping away the little glistening beads of sweat that appeared above his brow. "That was a low, uh... blow." (Woman-on-Willow thoughts too much for XanMan to take. Willow Gone Wild! Hot Tub Willow Weekend! Must think bad thoughts. Slimy demons, Giles singing at the coffee shop, Spike watching Passions, Willow thinking Giles was sexy singing at the coffee shop... There. That did it. Phew.)
"Look, Xander, I'm going, aren't I?" she said with a little huff.
"You are indeed," he grinned, remembering how he looped Dawn into helping him make the reservations. They secretly call it their 'Get Willow Gay in '08' campaign. "And you're going to be Willow Gone Wild! Hot Tub Willow!"
And there she was, (still) alone in the hot tub, which, "By the way," she thought, "should be overflowing with boobies at this point, right?"
(So much for Willow Gone Wild. Stupid Xand...)
And then, in slow motion, as if in a shampoo commercial or Charlie Angel's episode, a heavenly goddess with long, golden hair, filling out an aqua blue bikini quite nicely, headed straight for Willow's now-even-hotter hot tub.
(OK, so clearly in this instance, less in more... Or, uh, more is more. And, wow, would you look at those! One extra set of boobies will do just fine, thankyouverymuch. No need to burden the hot tub with too many of 'em!)
"Can I come in?"
"I'm out! I mean, out of my mind happy to share this hot tub with you." Willow recovered nervously, trying to save her
(Wow! Gorgeous! Please-be-gay)
guest from her Tourettes-like babble.
"Yes," she continued, "please come."
(You're doing bang up job of recovery, Rosenberg.)
" In. I mean, please join me. If you'd like."
"Thanks," whispered the mysterious
(And I repeat, please be gay)
blonde, as she gently lowered herself into the water with a giggle. "It feels wonderful, doesn't it...?"
"Oh," Willow said dumbly, trying not to give away just how luscious she thought the blonde looked all wet. "Better with you here."
(Must be the liquid courage talking.)
"You're adorable, uh... ?" she paused seductively, hoping to find out the blushing girl's name.
(She thinks I'm adorable! Be calm. Put a big lid on the spaz tonight, Will, k?)
"Willow. My name's Willow Rosenberg. Yep, that's me. Not-a-spaz-Rosenberg. That's what they call me."
(Great start, spaz!)
"Well, I'm not certain who 'they' are," she purred, as she floated a little closer to a suddenly very wide-eyed Willow, " but I'm sticking with 'adorable Willow.'"
(She's flirting, right? I wish someone were here to confirm or deny for me. Like a flirt jury.)
"I'm Tara Maclay. Here-alone-Maclay. That's what they call me," she said, echoing the introduction manner of her feisty hot tub-mate.
"Are you gay?" Willow blurted out, immediately slapping one hand over her mouth.
"So, it's zero to 100 in 10 seconds with you?" she said with a playful smile.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry," she fumbled. "It's just, my tummy's a bit full of swill, and my brain-to-mouth filter seems to be malfunctioning right now."
"It's OK, Willow." She moved closer, lightly brushing her fingertips against Willow's thigh. Willow shivered at the touch.
(OK, so that's a definite yes to flirting. Send the jury home.)
"Yes, I'm gay," she said, staring boldly into Willow's lovely green eyes. "I mean, Dinah Shore Weekend. Me in a bikini. Two shots of tequila. And a group of girlfriends that won't let me back into the room tonight until I put forth some effort in meeting someone."
"Me, too," Willow said nervously as she felt Tara's fingertips taking a longer, more adventurous journey up and down her leg. "I mean, gay, too. Although, not exactly a practicing gay, as it were. 'cause this is my first time, you know, at bat. And I'm nervous that I'll strike out my first time up..."
"Doubtful," Tara protested, as she came face to face with Willow and slid her arms around her waist.
"Huh?" she squeaked, completely lost in the feeling of Tara's delicious tits softly pressed against hers.
"Batter up, Willow."
(Kiss me. She wants to kiss me. Or, alternatively, me kiss her. "Batter up," she said. Eye on the ball, Rosenberg. Kiss her. Kiss her.)
Both women were mesmerized by each other's lips, and found themselves simply starting. Then, as if on cue, they looked up at each other; their eyes nervously willing the other to let desire run its course.
And then it became too much for Willow. The Dinah Shore key turned and she pressed her lips against Tara's, gently racing towards first base.
Tara sighed delightfully at the feeling of Willow's eager kiss and her soft, questing tongue begging to explore her mouth. And although she was only too happy to be on the receiving end of Willow's ministrations, she wanted to wow the spunky, little redhead with a little fair-game exploration of her own.
"God, Tara!" Willow sighed heavily, as she snaked her arms up and around Tara's back swift and tight. "This feels so good. You feel so good. I don't wanna stop."
"Then don't," she murmured gleefully against Willow's satin lips. "That was a solid hit, Willow, and there's no doubt in my mind that you can safely slide into second base."
(Baseball's never this sexy on TV, right? If it is, screw Cinemax After Dark, I'm getting ESPN when I get home.)
Craving more friction, Tara greedily grabbed at Willow's hips and thrust her leg in between her thighs, firmly rubbing against her bikini-clad pussy.
Willow clutched Tara's shoulders tightly and found a rhythm that was making her feel a million things at once; dizzy, sexy, crazed, awed, lustful, desired and, apparently extremely bold.
"Oh my god," she whispered as she broke the kiss, letting her head lull back as she gasped in lungfuls of air, "you're gonna make me come."
"What was that?" Tara shockingly smirked.
(Oh, shit! Joke your way outta this one, Rosenberg. Go on. Try it.)
"I said, 'That sign over there says 'No horseplay. How dumb!'' Which is a good thing, I guess, 'cause I don't even like horses. And seriously, what would horses be doing near a hot tub. They can't exactly graze or stand still or whatever it is they do. In fact, nothing they do involves playing, does it...?"
A bit perplexed, but still thrusting her thigh slow and steady in between Willlow's legs, Tara gently lifted the redhead's chin to meet her eyes, "Willow, why I find this line of babble completely charming, I don't exactly think that's what you said."
"What you said... I think it was something else, and if you would," Tara leaned in close to Willow's ear and whispered hotly, "I'd love to hear you say it again."
"Oh god, Tara!"
Something came over Willow, and all at once her inhibitions were thrown out the window. She was panting heavily, rocking harder against Tara's thigh, laving her tongue along the blonde's neck and nipping and sucking at the tender flesh she found there; secretly hoping that her passion left a little mark for her to admire later.
"You're so fucking sexy, Tara, and you're going to make me come. That's what I said. You've barely touched me and I'm erupting inside. I can't even believe this is happening and I don't want it to stop. Please, Tara, touch me. Fuck me. Make me come."
Tara gasped at the boldness of Willow's words, and with one swift move, released the knot holding Willow's bikini top and pulled it away from her body. She reached out hungrily with her hands and mouth, and ravenously devoured, squeezed and pulled at Willow's beautiful, pink nipples.
"Ungh! Fuck, that feels good."
Willow moved Tara firmly to her body, and with her free hand gently tugged at the strings on her back. "Tara, I wanna see yours. I wanna taste them so badly. Show you how amazing this feels. Can I?"
Willow fumbled a little, excited to see her first set of boobies face-to-face. Or, as it were, face-to-boob. But once Tara's top was tossed aside and she caught her first glimpse of them, she froze.
"Have you, uh... seen these?" she said starry-eyed, waving her hand in front of Tara's bounty.
"Every day," she said with a smile.
Feeling sexy and confident from Willow's hungry gaze, she began, "Will, I promise, you can study ... these ... all you want later. Even draw some pretty pictures if you'd like, but right now I need you to take them into your mouth."
Pushing Tara against the edge of the hot tub, she took as much of Tara's beautiful breasts into her mouth as she could,
(There's just so much of them)
paying special attention to the sensitive nubs.
"You've got, mmm..., quite a talented tongue there, Ms. Rosenberg," Tara breathed as she switched positions, and it Willow who was now pressed up against the edge of the hot tub. "Now, let me show what mine can do."
(Third base? Home run? Ohgod, please let us be going for a homerun.)
With a little help from Willow, Tara pushed the small woman up and out of the water and gently laid her body down on the towel next to the tub.
"Lift," she said, as Tara looped her fingers into the sides of Willow's bikini bottom and slid the small piece of material down her trembling legs. "Is this what you want, Willow?"
A now very-naked Willow lifted her head and looked deeply into blue eyes filled with equal parts lust and concern. And then it hit her, this is exactly what she wanted.
"Yes!" she gasped. "Take me, Tara. I want everything from you, and I want to give everything to you."
"Then lay down, sweetie," she whispered as she gently parted Willow's legs. "You're gonna wanna be horizontal for this."
(Fuck! That's sexy. And I thought I was wet bef...)
"Tara?" her eyes shot open wide.
"Ohgod, Tara. Is, uh... oooh, uh, uhm. Is everything al..."
"Mmmmph," she lifted her head for a moment to look up at Willow. "Shhh, baby. I'm perfect, and I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life."
With satisfied sigh, Willow closed her eyes and rested her head down, grinding her pussy into Tara's mouth with renewed confidence and fervor.
"More," she begged. "Tara, please, I want more of you."
If the Willowriver flowing into her mouth was any indication, Tara knew the two fingers she had poised at Willow's entrance would have no trouble gaining access. She teased the hole with her fingertips, dipping them in just a little before chasing them up to squeeze and pinch her clit. She repeated this torturous hide-and-seek play until Willow grabbed her wrist.
"Trust me, Tara, no need to worry if I'm ready. I am. More than you can know. And I need you to fuck me hard and deep with your fingers while you suck on my clit. Now. Please."
And with that, Tara took her lover. She found Willow's spot on the second thrust of her fingers, and tapped at the rough patch with each push into her pussy until she brought Willow to a shuddering orgasm that pushed the redhead's body completely off the concrete. She looked down at Tara, silently asking her to reach up to hold her. And Tara took Willow into a warm embrace. They stayed for a minute; Willow shivering from pleasure as she breathed smiles into the blonde's hair.
"Tara, I never..."
"Shh, Will. I've got you."
"I wish I could put into words how incredible I feel right now," she sighed delightfully. "Xander's never gonna believe this."
Tara confusingly looked into Willow's eyes, "Not exactly the reaction I was going for."
"Oh, no. It's not what you think. Xander's just my best..."
"Why don't you tell me about it tomorrow."
A million dollar smiled played across Willow's face, and a light bulb burned bright over her head, "There's going to be a you and me tomorrow?"
"I'd like that, Will. And, if you're really good (kiss), or alternatively (kiss), really naughty (bite), the day after that, as well." Tara half smiled, "You know, if you'd l-like."
"Yes! Much with the yes! And, by the way, aww... cute stutter."
"Alcohol must be wearing off," she said with a shrug.
"Oh," Willow hung her head sadly, "does that mean you want to stop or take a nap or..."
"'fraid not," she said, as she seductively dragged her tongue over her lover's lips. "Your turn to pitch, Willow. Batter's up."