I will be in Los Angeles at Weekend of Horrors next weekend (if anyone else
is going, let me know and maybe we can hook up) so I'm not sure if I will be
able to get an ABH out next week. This week's is rated UBER-R. Under 17
please just delete.




"That was wonderful." You have just finished an amazing meal that Rupert
Giles has prepared for you.

"Well, I do my best." He smiles at you as he pours two glasses of white
wine. He sits next to you on the sofa. As you sip from your glass, he idly
tucks your hair behind your ear. When he moves his hand back, he looks
strangely at the sleeve. "Damn."

"What is it?"

"Oh it's nothing, I just got a little of the glazing on my jacket here." He
pours you another glass, then stands. "I'll be right back Love." He heads
upstairs.

You wait until you hear the sound of the bathroom door closing and reach
under the couch, procuring a bag there. You pick up your wine glass and
quietly make your way up the stairs. You look once toward the bathroom door.
You can hear the faucet running. You place your wine glass on the nightstand
and sit down on the bed, opening the bag. From inside the bag, you produce a
leather bound book, obviously old. You stand and reach over to throw the bag
away when the bathroom door opens. You see Rupert in rolled up shirtsleeves
as he hangs his jacket up to dry. You try to run out of the room before he
sees you. Just as you pass the door, strong arms come around your waist and
lift you into the air.

"Caught you!" You are giggling as he carries you back into the room and sets
you on your feet in front of the bed. "What's this?" Rupert keeps his arms
around you.

"Just something I found for you on my last trip."

"What's the occasion?"

You turn in his arms, your lips mere inches from his. "I love you. I figured
that was occasion enough." He leans forward and slowly, expertly kisses you.

You let him go, smiling. "Well you could at least look at it." Rupert is
grinning as he sits on the bed. You move around to the other side of the bed
and climb on. You reclaim your glass as he opens the book reverently.

"Edgar Allen Poe? It's a first edition." You lean back against the pillows.
He looks up. "It's exquisite."

"Read me some?" You sip some more of the wine and he leans back against the
pillows next to you.

"It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, that a maiden
there lived whom you may know, by the name of Annabel Lee." You set your
wine on the nightstand again, settling on the pillow, just watching him and
listening to his voice. "And this maiden she lived with no other thought
than to love and be loved by me."

The alcohol has started to make you sleepy. You close your eyes and just
listen to Rupert's wonderful voice. "I was a child and she was a child, in
this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love, I
and my Annabel Lee." Rupert turns to you and strokes a hand gently down the
side of your sleeping face. "With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
coveted her and me." He kisses your forehead and proceeds to read his book
silently.

About two hours later, Rupert wakes up, book closed and clasped to his
chest, head leaning against yours. He sits up and puts the book on his
nightstand. Then he turns to you, running his fingers along your cheek.
"Love, it's time to wake up. I've got to get you home." You don't so much as
stir. He smiles. "Love?" Your breathing remains steady as though you don't
even hear him. His eyes lift from your face and he spots your half-glass of
wine sitting on the nightstand behind you. He reaches over you and takes it.
He brings it to the edge of your jawline and tips it's contents slowly down
your neck.

As you feel the liquid slide down your throat and make it's way over and
down your cleavage, you frown and your eyes open. Rupert is smiling down on
you. "Yuck."

"Hello there, Sleeping Beauty. Come on Love, time I got you home." He leans
over and kisses you quickly on the cheek.

As he crawls off of the bed, you sit up and stretch. When you look up,
Rupert is smiling in the doorway, watching you. "Not so fast you don't."

"Pardon?"

You look down at yourself and undo a couple of buttons on your white shirt,
unpeeling it from your wet skin. "You just made a sticky mess of me and I
insist you clean it up."

The smile has moved to his eyes, and it is mischievous. "You do?"

"I do." He climbs back onto the bed, crawling over to you. When he reaches
the edge of your legs, he sits and pulls you onto his lap. His hand lingers
briefly on your leg near the hem of your skirt, but soon moves up to the
side of your face. A hand on either side of your face, he gently tilts your
head, exposing the wine-wetted skin to his view. He moves forward and
touches his tongue to you. With long deliberate strokes he proceeds to lick
away the mess he made. You are no longer complaining, instead trying
desperately not to shudder. You bring your hands into his hair and massage
the base of his neck.

Rupert moves his hands to the front of your blouse and undoes the buttons,
spreading the material and pushing it off your shoulders and onto the bed.
He laps at the wine on the skin of your breast not covered by the white lace
of your bra. His tongue follows the path the liquid took, right to your
cleavage as his hand reaches behind you to unfasten and remove the bra. With
your chest now exposed before him, he lays you back and begins to
methodically lick, kiss, nibble and suck at every inch of the rounded flesh.

You are finding it hard to breathe. As your shaky fingers make slow fumbling
work of the buttons of his shirt, he has snuck his hand a little way under
your skirt and is kneading your inner thigh, making ever higher circles in
time with his tongue on your skin. His fingers brush against the crotch of
your panties and you whimper.

Rupert pulls back with a sly grin. "Stop?"

You stare at him like he just grew another head. "Not if you want to live,"
you manage to pant. He moves off the bed just long enough to finish removing
all of his clothes. Then he bends over and pulls off your skirt and
underwear before climbing over you and resuming his kisses. He trails his
hand up the inside of your legs before exploring the area between them. Your
hands caress the smooth contours of his back, finally resting on his bottom
and squeezing.

You can feel Rupert's hardness against your thigh, and you are more than
ready. You spread your legs a little wider and he enters you. As he moves
faster and faster, you reach between the two of you and fondle him until he
is as close to the edge as you are. Two more strokes and you are muffling
your climax on his shoulder. He follows you seconds after and you come down
together, holding each other tightly.

He pulls the covers over you, settles you against his chest, and turns off
the light. "Am I forgiven for the wine?"

"Well...I suppose so," you smile.

"How generous of you."

"I thought it was, yes." He briefly tickles your bare ribs and you giggle,
squirming against him.

"That settles it."

"Settles what?"

"Next time I'm going to use the whole bottle."

"Well, if you do that," you stroke his inner thigh and are rewarded with a
hiss, "just make sure you're up to it."

Rupert kisses your forehead. "I'll endeavor not to disappoint." Drifting off
to sleep, you hear Rupert whisper to you, "For the moon never beams without
bringing me dreams, of the beautiful Annabel Lee. And the stars never rise
but I feel the bright eyes, of the beautiful Annabel Lee. And so, all the
night-tide, I lie down by the side of my darling- my darling- my life and my
bride, in the sepulchre there by the sea, in her tomb by the sounding sea."


Have a Wonderful Monday!

GylzGirl :-)


"I'm just looking for that moment to drop my Jedi knickers and pull out my
real lightsaber." ~Ewan McGregor

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