Title: A Wank to Remember

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Xander/

Summary: Unbeknownst to him, Xander has an audience.

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd be too busy playing to write.

Distribution: I never say no, I'm easy that way.

A/N: This is for the June Wank Contest at the batpack yahoogroup. All hail Mel, the mistress of smut.

A Wank To Remember

by Cassy

It was called 'Nad's'. The irony was not lost on him as he spread the cool green gel around his nether regions. It was something Anya had always wanted him to do for her, but he hadn't. This was something he was doing purely for himself. The advertisements said it was painless; God he hoped so, because otherwise, he was going to be in agony.

He applied the strip of cloth to his skin and rubbed it gently, then he took a deep breath and . . . pulled. It didn't hurt. There was a twinge of discomfort, but nothing he couldn't handle. With a goofy grin he did it again. And again, and again. Until he was smooth; hairless as he had been as a boy.

There was something erotic about the way he looked in the full length mirror. A man; with a man's body, all hard muscles and broad shoulders. His chest, armpits and groin were all smooth and soft now. He looked sexy. At least he did in his opinion.

He wanted to touch himself, to run his fingers lightly over his smooth skin, to caress his now hairless scrotum, to feel every inch of himself in a new and slightly perverse way. He panted and looked at his eyes in the mirror - they were almost black with lust. The anticipation was sweet and he wanted to savor it. To draw it out. For he knew, that once he began to touch - to explore this new playground, he would be lost.

He walked naked throughout his apartment. Just feeling the air as it shifted around him and caressed him like ghost hands. He got a beer from the kitchen and drank it slowly, all the while teasing himself with light touches to his nipples and chest. Never venturing lower than his waist. His cock was half hard and his balls felt heavy. He couldn't wait much longer.

He slid out onto the balcony and into a lounge chair. It was a dark night and he was high enough up not to been seen from street level. Besides, there was something wicked about the idea of being seen.

He arranged himself comfortably; reclined back in the chair, one leg on the floor the other bent at the knee. His legs were open in a relaxed position; a bottle of scented oil was on the table next to him. He was ready.

He opened the cap and smelled the light sandalwood fragrance as it filled the air around him. He jumped slightly as he drizzled the cool liquid onto his chest. It warmed up soon enough.

His hands slid through the slippery mess on his torso; rubbing it into his skin slowly; sensually. He circled each nipple and then pinched them roughly eliciting a sharp gasp in response as his cock pulsed to life. One hand remained on his chest flickering back and forth between stiff nipples as the other hand drifted lower, stopping to play in the small pool of oil that had collected in his navel before resuming it's southward path.

He bypassed his waiting erection, knowing that to touch it now would put an end to the game. He groaned out loud as his slick fingers trailed over his sac, down underneath to his perineum and then back to the tiny entrance to his body; the place he had never allowed Anya to touch no matter how much she had pleaded to. This was for him, and him alone.

He slowly inserted one finger into himself and then pulled it back out. He wanted to do so much more but there wouldn't be time tonight, he was too wired, too needy, to draw this out.

Rubbing his hands through what was left of the oil on his chest he returned two slippery fingers to his entrance, pushing them in and swiftly hooking them to caress his prostate as his other hand rolled and pulled his balls. It was more than he had hoped for, this feeling of intense eroticism. He couldn't wait any longer to cum.

With sure, firm strokes he pulled on his cock. His fingers pumped in and out of his ass as his hips rolled and thrust on the cheap plastic lounge chair. He knew he was making noises, and he wasn't sure if any of them sounded remotely like words, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now except the feeling of his hand on his cock, his fingers in his ass and the night breeze washing over his sensitive skin.

He felt his balls tighten and almost stopped; wanting to cum so badly but at the same time never wanting this feeling to end. Behind closed eyes, his imaginary lover smirked at him, blue eyes twinkled with promise of a thousand more nights like this and he allowed himself to fall. Spilling jet after jet of hot cum on his night-chilled skin and calling out his phantom lover's name, "Spike!"

Across the street, a wide-eyed vampire licked dry lips and then grimaced at the stain soaking through the front of his jeans. He was so caught up in the sight in front of him he hadn't even thought to free himself as he watched. He decided that this apartment was definitely worth the rent the Anirtak demon was charging him. He was also glad he'd decided to start bringing his things over tonight. Night vision was a very good thing. He only wished he'd had a video camera, for that had been a wank to remember.

END