A Night To Remember: Part 3
“Just admit I won then,” Spike whinged as he followed Angel through the strawberry field.
“Spike! The bike is wrecked. We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no way of getting anywhere, and you’re bothered about who won?”
“Well, yeah.”
Angel stopped, turned around and folded his arms. Spike was pouting, but this time, this time Angel wasn’t going to let it get to him. OK, maybe a little. He kissed the pout away and then went back to the stern sire persona he’d decided was the best way to deal with this situation.
“I think we have bigger problems that who scored points off of whom,” he said.
Spike leered at Angel’s crotch. “Yeah, I can see how big from here.”
Angel glanced down on the off chance his dick had escaped again, and when he looked up, Spike was nowhere to be seen. There was, however, a distressingly familiar whoop of glee from across the field.
“A tractor! I found a tractor!”
Angel plodded towards the noise with a sinking feeling in his belly. It was quite a contrast to the hardening in his groin, and when put together it made him feel like he was folding up and expanding at the same time. Surreal.
Spike had indeed found a tractor and was clambering all over it, squealing with delight. “Angel, it’s huuuge! And it has lots of levers and switches and, wheeeeeee!”
The final squeal was so piercing that Angel slammed his hands over his ears and nearly deafened himself. Hence he only caught the tail end of what Spike said next.
“… overalls. Can we please. Please, please, please, please, please.”
There was something about Spike when he got all excited. It made Angel want to bend him over and fuck him hard. Mind you, most things made Angel want to do that, so nothing different there. He settled for agreeing spontaneously and then brooding about what he’d agreed to.
“Get yer kit off then,” Spike said, holding up something dark and filthy and stinking of oil and sweat.
“Huh?” Angel said brightly.
“Overalls,” Spike said and shook the thing enthusiastically releasing another waft of polluted air. When Angel didn’t immediately start stripping, Spike sagged and pouted again. “You promised, Sire,” he said in his best innocent little fledgling voice.
“Promised what?” Angel asked, almost afraid to find out.
“That you’d wear the overalls for me and I’d ride on your lap in the tractor all the way to the nearest truck stop,” Spike grinned and bounced.
Riding! Lap! Angel’s brain slid into his pants and he beamed happily, unbuttoning his pants and stripping off his shirt. So the clothing was nasty, who gave a damn when he had the promise of Spike bouncing up and down on his cock all the way across this rutted field. For that he could survive a bit of oil.
Angel felt very very dirty as he stripped out of his leathers and climbed into the even more manly overalls, his naked body absorbing every molecule of sweat and oil. His cock was so solid now it seemed to have gained an extra inch in length, not that it wasn’t impressive enough to start with but ten thick inches was better than nine any night. Angel began to do up the press studs, loving the way his erection made the loose fabric tent out obscenely.
“Leave ‘em undone,” growled Spike, his voice a full octave lower than normal. Angel felt like a piece of meat, a very large piece of meat, as Spike prowled around him licking his lips and panting softly. “Lean up against that tree for me, pet.”
Angel did as he was told which wasn’t a very sirelike way to behave but Spike had this knack of leading him around by his cock. Not that the little pain in the ass knew that. At least Angel hoped he didn’t.
Pressed up against the tree trunk by very determined hands, Angel suppressed a whimper as Spike pushed one of his legs up until the sole was resting against the bark and then tugged at the overalls until they were hanging off his shoulders. Angel’s cock was glossy with pre-cum and begging for attention by now, balls pushing their way out over the seam of the fabric. He allowed his lips to curve into a smile and canted his hips just enough.
“Fuck,” moaned Spike, rubbing himself as he stared glassy eyed at his sire.
Angel felt like a whore. Angel liked feeling like a whore. Then he felt a whole lot of something else as Spike whined and sank to his knees taking Angel’s balls into his mouth one and a time and rolling them around on his tongue.
“Please, please, please, please, please, NO!” yelled Angel. “Both of us in overalls or the game’s off.”
How rigidly he’d have stuck to the plan Angel wasn’t sure and with his cock aching and his balls tightening as the night air cooled his wet skin he thought he’d most likely give in at the first little sign of Spike arguing. But, hang on! There must be an apocalypse about to happen because Spike wasn’t arguing. In fact Spike was tearing off his clothes and climbing into the second pair of dirty, greasy, manly overalls. Angel needed to remember this day. It must be written down. He would call Giles up as soon as got back home and tell him to mark down the date as the first time William the Bloody Obstinate had ever obeyed him without a fight.
Mind you he now knew what had got Spike all worked up; the sight of his own personal nuisance all dressed up like a randy grease monkey made him gulp and reach out to run his hands over that drooling, oily erection.
“Stay,” hissed Spike as Angel moved towards him. Angel moaned and re-assumed his position leaning back against the tree.
“You look so fucking fuckable,” breathed Spike, stalking forward and raising himself up on his toes, brushing his cock against Angel’s.
“Suckable, you mean,” growled Angel, pressing down on Spike’s shoulders and forcing him to his knees. Oh, this was heaven -- better than heaven it was hell. For all he’d moaned and whinged about being in that particular dimension for a few hundred years, he’d had a fucking good time while he was there.
“Yeah, suck me,” he groaned as Spike took in all of his, what now looked like eleven inches, and sucked at it like it was a giant lollipop.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh…”
“Tractor!”
“Oh tractor?”
The mouth was gone and all Angel was left with was a few strands of blond hair and a whole heap of memories.
“Fuck me on the tractor, fuck me on the tractor. Tractor, tractor, tractor.”
“Anything.” Angel dragged Spike off through the hedge and into the field. Leaping astride the tractor as if it were a horse he switched on the engine and the brute choked into life, spluttering and kicking out black diesel smoke which in the mood Angel was in only made him hornier.
“Wanna go for a ride, little boy,” leered Angel as he watched Spike struggle to pull down his overalls to give Angel easy access to his arse.
Angel had no patience left. He grabbed Spike by his arm, slathered a load of engine grease over his steel bar of a cock and pulled the younger vampire onto his knee.
It was very dirty sex. With one arm wrapped round Spike’s waist and the other on the steering wheel of the tractor they didn’t even need to fuck. Angel drove the tractor across the farrows in the ploughed field and gripped Spike’s cock in his oily hand. The vibrations and bouncing up and down would have been enough to get them both off in double quick time if only Angel had been looking where he was going.
If only Angel had seen the river.