I never thought of myself as an ass-man until I met Spike. Okay, so I never thought of myself as a man-man until I met Spike, but he has a way of convincing even the most reluctant person that he's the hottest thing around. After the first few minutes of Spike trying to persuade me, I sure as hell wasn't reluctant at all.

Spike has changed a lot of things about me, and one of them is how I look at him. I was always the kind of guy who noticed chests and legs, but now I'm obsessed with all of him. His hands, his eyes, his lips, his hips, how he walks, how he sits, how he smiles, how he crawls across the bed...

Sorry, where was I? Oh, right, Spike's ass. I never thought I'd care about another guy's butt, even Spike's, no matter how fond he was of mine, but then I walked into the living room when he called and saw his ass right in front of me. There he was, naked, bent over the couch, cursing at me for making him wait, and all I could do was stare at his perfect, pale ass.

Well, that wasn't all I could do. I probably broke the world speed record for stripping. He held still while I ran my hands along his back, down his legs, and over those firm buttocks. They tensed beneath my touch, and I rubbed circles over them with my palms. Then I drew one finger over his pucker in the teasing way that had driven me crazy every time he had done it to me, and he growled at me to get a move on. He didn't have to ask twice.

He had slicked himself up before I got there, which is kinda hot just by itself, now that I think about it, and I wasted no time grabbing his hips and stepping up behind him. My cock slid against the smooth skin of the cleft of his ass, and we both groaned in anticipation.

I hadn't been on this end of things before, but my body knew where it wanted to go even if I was kind of nervous about it. I just needed to position myself, and then I was pressing in. Spike pushed back, his body opened around me, and I was inside. Not all the way, just a little, but it felt amazing.

Look, I know what you're thinking. I'd had sex with women before, so how different could it be, right? Well, apart from the whole body temperature thing, there's the tightness. Spike was lubed up and ready for me, but he was still so incredibly tight around me. The deeper I went, the more he clenched around me. The way he was swearing made it more than clear that he wanted me there, so it was like he was gripping me and holding me inside of himself.

Once I got fully in him, though, and felt him around me, I couldn't stay still. I had to move, had to fuck him. I started rocking slowly, then faster, and when he encouraged me I began to pull out further before thrusting back in. I knew I couldn't hurt him, but I wanted him to feel good, and I tried different angles before I hit the spot that made me see supernovas behind my eyes when he did it to me. He seemed to like it, too.

I watched myself sliding in and out of him, my cock nearly purple compared with the ivory marble of his skin. I ran my hands over him, skimming them across his shoulders, along his ribs, down his thighs, and up his ass, as I kept slamming forward.

Spike's fingers were digging into the couch so tightly that I thought he might rip the cushions, and he was panting his encouragement with every thrust. When I told him how good he felt, he only groaned louder, and he took one hand from the couch to grip his own cock.

I grabbed his arm before he could touch himself and placed it back on the cushion. Leaning over him, I covered his hands with mine and threaded our fingers together. I was plastered to his back, my chin resting on his shoulder, and I kissed the nape of his neck before thrusting forward again.

We were moving as one creature now, one really, really horny creature, and we bent and grunted in unison. I pushed deep into him, feeling him sway beneath me to take me in. My whole body was tingling with arousal, and I could feel my hair standing on end. I was wrapped around him and so achingly close, both to him and to coming. I wanted to crawl inside and explode in a thousand tiny Xander-pieces so deep in his body I could never separate myself from him again.

Not like I could've said anything like that then, because I was about two seconds away from coming as hard as I ever had in my life. But I wanted him to go first, because it wasn't just about me. So I whispered in his ear about how good he felt and how I'd never thought he'd let me do this to him. And I told him how I was going to do it again, over and over, fucking him until all he could ever think about was me, just like I only ever think about him. And then, as I rode over that amazing spot inside of him, I told him I loved him.

Spike's entire body shook like a bridge during an earthquake, and he cried out my name as he came. I grabbed him around the waist and plunged deep into his ass as my own orgasm burst out of me. We couldn't hold each other up and ended up in a sticky, panting, laughing heap on the floor.

We lay side-by-side for a few minutes, our fingers entwined, and then Spike raised himself onto his elbow and leaned over to kiss me. He told me how good I had been, and then he said he was always thinking of me, anyway, no matter where I was or what he was doing. He didn't say he loved me, but it was there in his eyes.

I kissed him harder, and we made love a second time, this time face-to-face and with him inside of me. My second orgasm of the night was as good as the first.

So I guess I'm still not really an ass-man. I'm a Spike-man, and that works for me.

~end~