He slipped one of my chiffon scarves around my head, between my teeth. I knew what he meant. I wasn’t gagged at all really, but it would remind me. He tied it just tight enough to stay on, testing it to make sure it wasn’t cutting me.

"We’ve just started, Buffy," he whispered sweetly, "You’ve got to try to be quiet," I was panting, and I nodded.

He climbed between my legs again. He slid his fingertips up and down my legs for a while, and the kisses returned, to my thighs, then between my legs, feather-light at first, then wetter. I heard him sigh, it was almost a moan. His tongue dipped, it was long and thick and cool, it slid deeper and deeper, slowly moving inside me and out, deep into me where I was dripping hot, deeper each time, and I finally lost it. I buried my head deep in the pillow and screamed, my body was contracting around him, he buried it in me and I screamed and screamed, partly in shock because I had never had any idea that I could ever feel like that. He slipped his hands under my hips again and lifted me, and his tongue moved foreward to that one little place, the little nub, his tongue was strong but it felt like wet silk, it was stroking little circles, and I lost it again, right away. I jerked back against him and shoved my head under the pillow and screamed with everything I had into the mattress. His tongue moved backward then and I tensed and jumped because I was embarrassed. He nuzzled his face against the cheek of my behind as if it were a pillow and rested there for a while. His hand stroked my behind and my thighs dreamily, coming gradually nearer and nearer to it, lulling me. He wasn’t going to accept a refusal, but he wasn’t going to go there until I allowed it, either, he just kept caressing me, no hurry at all. In a way it was a little nightmarish, because I was going to give in to him and I was scared, but at the same time it was incredibly exciting, my heart was thumping, I could almost hear it.

He stroked a finger across the little opening and I jerked, but it didn’t feel bad, not at all. I knew he wouldn’t allow it to. His tongue started to stroke between my cheeks and it felt really good, so good, and then his fingers were between my legs, slipping back and forth. His finger went a little deeper and his tongue, further back, crept closer. I suddenly realized that my hands hurt because I had handfuls of covers and I was clenching them in my fists...if I’d had handfuls of coal they would have been diamonds by now.

His tongue touched me in back, licking. His finger slid a tiny way inside me where I was hot and wet. His tongue nudged...at first I didn’t like it at all, it tickled but it was irritating, but then he pushed even deeper and it felt completely different. His finger slid further inside me, that felt wonderful, the air went out of me. I moved, because I wanted more of his finger, but he was driving his tongue up into me, and that became even more wonderful, and then he pushed his finger into me and his tongue into me all the way, at the same time, and I had to bury my head in the pillow. He pushed two fingers in now, and I jerked on his fingers and tongue, and wetness flooded out of me all over again. Everything went distant suddenly, as if I’d dived into a pool, all the sound and texture of the world went away and when it came back I felt like I had just been underwater, I was gasping for air and trembling.

He pulled away when I started to go limp, he rolled onto his side and brought me up against him with my back to his chest. I felt his hardness and I trembled more. I couldn’t help thinking that there was NO WAY. He’d skewer me. I was afraid of it but I wanted to touch it. I reached in back of me and stroked it with my fingertips.

"Mmmmmhhh," he moaned.

I reached up and took the scarf from around my head. I flipped over quickly, so I was facing him. We haven’t kissed, I thought, and I kissed him. He was so pretty, even in the faint light. I closed my hand around him. It was a stretch, my fingers just barely made it all the way around. He moaned again.

"Shhh," I said.

He was looking down, watching my hands, and I realized he was going to let me play. I’ve heard that a lot of boys they aren’t like that. They beg or even give orders sometimes. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway, but not from anybody I hang out with, none of them would know. Still, it was obvious that he wanted me to do what I wanted. I explored him, running my hands up and down the length of him. It’s a wonderful texture, the skin is soft and velvety, and it’s amazing how hard it is. I started to be hypnotized by the feel and the look of him, I was so absorbed that I forgot about everything else. My hands were gliding over him. There was a little bead of moisture on the tip and I wondered...so I tasted, just quickly licking it up. He shuddered and said, "Aaaahhh!" really loud.

"Angel," I whispered in my strictest voice, "We’ve just started and you’re going to have to be quiet,"

He glared at me. In that moment he was so adorable that I started giggling and I couldn’t stop. His eyes glinted sternly at me and it made me laugh even more, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment, so I handed him a pillow to bite. He snatched it from me, but I reached down low and cradled a softer part of him in my hand and a dreamy expression came over him and he sighed. I loved that, I loved being able to make him feel things like that. It made me want to do all kinds of things to him.

I slid down so my mouth was closer to him, and I actually felt my mouth water. It looks ridiculous as I write it, but it really did, my mouth watered. I pressed the length of him against my cheek and looked up at him. He had a beautiful look on his face, somewhere between begging and amazement. I took him in both my hands and stroked him up and down. I had no idea if I was doing it right, but he wasn’t getting impatient and I was having fun. I stroked him and every time my hands went down I slipped my tongue over the tip. He moaned. He tasted nice, squeaky clean, of course. I inched closer, so I could take the tip in my mouth. It was a pretty fearless thing to do, I could just get my mouth around it. I don’t know if I was acting on instinct or what, but after a while it just seemed right to caress him with my tongue, just gliding and flicking it wetly over the tip of him while I stroked. He started to moan very low in a rhythm with my strokes, and I got so excited, I wanted...I wanted to make him unbearably happy. I craned my head sideways so I could keep him in my mouth but I could look up at him. I saw his eyes glimmer back at me in the dark, his mouth was open, he was watching me. I stroked harder, pulling on him, and I moved my tongue in wider movements, bigger arcs.

"Buffy-Buffy-Buffy-" he was whispering, and I don’t know what made me try it, but I slid my mouth down onto him deeper, moving my tongue underneath. He tensed all over and he took my face in his hands, pushing my mouth away. I didn’t understand, but I didn’t want him to be unhappy...maybe he didn’t like what I was doing...and then he jerked in my hands and I went with his motion, and then a little cold flow spurted over my fingers. I crooned...I wanted it. My mouth fell on my hands and on him, licking it up. It was creamy and intensely salty, with a faint tinge of sweetness. He was shaking and his fingers caressed my face.

I felt so wonderful. I loved being able to give him that. His hands were stroking my hair, then pulling me up, his arms went around me, tight. I pressed my face into his neck, inhaling him. I recognized the scent: Ivory soap. He pulled the covers over us.

I woke up.

It was sudden. There I was, awake, and none of it had really happened. It was disorienting, and wiggy. I feel a little better now, I think I can get back to sleep, except now I miss him worse.