Island Fantasy

This story is being reposted, as the category it was originally in was deleted from the site . . . probably 'cause this was the only story in it. There have been a few changes from the original version, because the editor in me just can't leave well-enough alone. My only complaint is that I lost my reviews when the original was deleted. So . . . make it up to me? Drop me a review if you read and enjoy this little story?

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: As much as I would absolutely love to lay claim to James Marsters, he is not mine. Likewise, I do not hold any claim or connection to Michelle Trachtenberg. This is a FICTIONAL story and should not be taken seriously. I mean no harm in writing this . . . it's merely an extension of my overactive (and rather freaky) imagination.

Feedback to: lilacbeauty.writes@gmail.com

Further notes: Jim and Michie are reportedly the actors' real nicknames. Michelle is 19 in this story.


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It was not so much that he had not seen her since they wrapped up the show, it was simply that he had only seen her in the movies and magazine spreads she had done. They had simply not crossed paths since Buffy had been canceled and, now that he was seeing her in the flesh, he couldn't help but think that the photographs he had been seeing of her lately really had not done justice to the beauty she had become. Oh, she had always been pretty; wavy brown hair, slim waist, with curves beginning to form in all the right places. But now . . . now she had come into her own, and she was downright gorgeous.

And to run in to her here, of all places -- James had to admit that it was pretty good luck. This was a small, out of the way club on a very small island in the Bahamas. Not too many chances for a photographer to catch them talking here. Hell, he told himself, if the press managed to get past the door, the security, maybe they deserved all the pictures they could snap before getting caught. He watched her dance with what seemed like half the club before she finally moved back to her table to sit down. He flagged down his waitress, ordered another beer, and arranged to have a refill sent over to her table before getting up and walking over. "This seat taken?" he asked softly.

She looked up, her blue eyes wide, and smiled brightly. "Jim!"

"Hey Michie," he smiled back, hugging her tight as she rose from her chair and put her arms around him. "How ya doing?"

"I'm good," she answered as they sat down. "How about you?"

"Same. Busy. What brings you to this hole in the world?"

"Vacation. I told my manager I wanted to go somewhere with a nice beach and not a lot of press. This is the result. You?"

He smiled again as the waitress brought over their drinks and set them down. "Almost the same; I have a couple gigs lined up around the island while I'm here, but for the most part, this is a vacation."

"Still doing the music thing, then?" she asked as she brought her drink to her lips. "I thought I heard something about you having a new cd come out."

"Yeah, just me, no band. What about you? Any big projects lined up?"

"Not for a while, but I've got a few things this fall. It's been so long since I had any time in the summer to relax, I thought it might be fun to try it out."

"Relaxing?"

"Yeah," she grinned.

"How do you like it so far?"

"No complaints. This island really is great."

He couldn't help but agree with her as he pulled on his beer, swallowing quickly. She looked happy, relaxed, and he was already glad they'd run into each other. She swayed easily in her chair as a new song came on, and James smiled. "You want to go dance some more, don't you?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Pretty much."

She looked at him, licked her lips, and he was really not all that surprised when she stood up and held out her hand. "Well, come on, then."

"Oh, you expect me to dance, do you?"

"Uh huh," she said, tugging him out of his chair and toward the floor.

He didn't protest too much, and pulled her into his arms when they reached an empty spot on the floor. The song wasn't too fast, wasn't too slow, and he soon found himself getting lost in the rhythm of the music. Soon another song was playing and he found himself with another partner but, truth be told, he didn't really mind. This night was about having fun, relaxing. Two songs later, this one a slower, more sensual song, he found Michelle back in front of him. This was not the sort of song he would normally consider dancing with her to, but as she stood in front of him, her eyes wide, he found himself moving in and pulling her closer. She licked her lips and met his eyes as they started to move, the throbbing bass-line of the song leading them. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, and her hands traveled over his back.

He wasn't sure when, or how, she ended up with her back to him, grinding easily back against him, but he damn sure didn't want her to stop once she was there. His hands on her hips, pulling her back against him, he wondered if she knew what she was doing. Wondered if she knew that grinding her ass against him like that would lead them to one place, and one place only. He was a man, after all; he would get turned on if she kept doing it. "Michelle," he whispered in her ear, the one word effectively bringing them both out of the fog the song seemed to have settled around them.

She turned, her lips parted, and he could see the confusion in her eyes. Not giving her the chance to pull away, James' hands found their way back to her hips and he pulled her close once more. "Just wanted to see your eyes."

Smiling then, she leaned in further and, as the song played out, they finished the dance staring into each other's eyes. "You need a smoke break?" she asked softly, as he led her from the dance floor.

He nodded, and without another word, the two of them headed outside, to the private parking lot behind the club. If nothing else, he decided, he most certainly needed a bit of air after that . . . very nice dance. Once they were outside, he pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one out of habit. He exhaled slowly as she leaned up against the wall of the building, and looked at him. "Why did you . . . um, never mind."

"Why did I what?" he asked, even though he knew what it was she was asking. Or, at least he thought he did. It was the same thing he had on his mind. "Why did I distract you in there? While we were dancing?"

She blushed prettily. "Yeah."

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

Crushing the cigarette under his shoe, he closed the distance between them and pinned her against the wall with his arms. "You are a very good dancer, Michie, and I am a mere mortal."

Her eyes wide, she managed to smile. "I was . . . I was what? Turning you on? Me?"

"You say that like it's an impossible thing."

"Isn't it?"

He leaned in a little closer then, looked her right in the eyes, and said plainly, "No, it's not." Her mouth formed in a small, tight 'o' of surprise, and he grinned. "Is that a problem?"

She blinked. "Is what a problem? That I can . . . do that?"

He chuckled. "Yeah."

"N-no. At least, I don't think it is."

"Good," he said softly. "Good. Because I want to dance with you some more."

He had every intention of pulling her back in the club, of dancing until they were both sweaty and too tired to think. She, however, seemed to have something else in mind. She pushed away from the wall, bringing her body into contact with his, and said, "So dance."

"Out here?"

"You can hear the music, can't you?"

He closed his eyes, listened, and sure enough, he could. There was music filtering outside from the club, and he wondered why he had not noticed it before. Looking at her once more, he smiled. "Nice song."

"Uh huh," she answered as they started to sway in time to he beat. The song was, if he was not mistaken, by Portishead. Glory Box, he thought idly as he watched her eyes drift closed. His hands drifted down her back, coming to rest on the curve of her hips, and she moved ever so closer as the music pulled them in.

She wasn't grinding against him this time. No, this time it was much more than that. Their bodies pressed against each other, one of her thighs between his, they moved to the music freely, neither one of them worried that they might be seen. They knew the parking lot was truly private. The club's security would have it no other way. The song ended, another one began, and it was his eyes drifting closed this time as she dragged her thigh out from between his, brushing his cock with her knee.

There had been, he decided, enough dancing. If she didn't know what was going on . . . he stopped that train of thought. She had to know what was going on. She just had to. And, as he pushed up gently back to the wall, he could see in her eyes that she did understand.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured a second before his lips crashed down upon hers. She responded eagerly to the kiss, wrapping her arms around him, and he groaned softly as her tongue slipped out to meet his.

He tightened the grip he had on her hips when she bucked against him naturally, and broke the kiss to look into her eyes. "Michelle," he said softly.

"Don't," she said. "Don't tell me this is wrong because you've known me since I was a kid. Don't tell me you want to stop just because of the age difference."

Pulling her flush up against him, he ground his erection into her hip even as his lips claimed hers again. He had no intention of stopping, unless she told him to. She moaned as his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, trailing across the bare skin of her back, and they were both breathless when they broke apart this time. "All I was going to ask was which room you wanted to go back to. Mine or yours?"

She blinked. "Yours," she answered quickly.

"You have a car or a driver?"

"A rental car, but ... it'll be safe here, if you promise to bring me back for it later."

He just nodded and pulled her toward his motorcycle. He handed her the extra helmet before they got on, and then straddled the bike with her soon following. She didn't hesitate, just wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him as he started the bike and began driving. Her hands drifted over his torso as they drove, her fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt or drifting up and down his side. He tried to force himself to focus on driving, on getting them back to the condo he'd rented without incident, but that became very difficult as her hands started to drift lower. He groaned and pushed back against her slightly as she cupped him through his jeans, and couldn't stop himself from speeding up ever so slightly, eager to get her back into his arms.

When they finally pulled into the driveway of his rental property, he parked quickly and whisked her off the bike as quickly as possible. Pushing her up against the wall of the garage, he kissed her hard. "Little tease."

"Not for long," she said, kissing him back.

It did not take long at all to get into the house, but they didn't quite make it to the bedroom. The couch was closer, and too inviting to pass up. She was laying on her back, gazing up at him, and he licked his lips. "Want you," he said as she trailed a hand across his stomach.

"Good," she murmured, leaning up, her fingers working the buttons of his shirt, revealing his skin.

She pushed him back against the couch and straddled him, leaning down to kiss him as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders. James wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him, and teased her lips with his tongue. She thrust against him easily, and they both moaned. His cock was hard, very hard, and she was very, very hot. He pulled away from her lips only long enough to pull her shirt over her head, exposing her skin to him for the first time. His hands trailed over her back, her smooth skin driving him crazy already. Skin, he decided, should not be that soft. It was too ... too much of a temptation, and he knew he would never be able to look at her again without remembering the way it felt under his hands.

"James," she said, breathless. "Touch me, please. Touch me."

Her request spurred him on, and he lay her back on the couch, moving above her to trail kisses down her flat stomach. He cupped one of her breasts in his hand, and she arched into the touch. His thumb teased her nipple through the material of her bra, and she moaned loudly as he leaned down to take the other one into his mouth. Her bra was thin, not silk, but something similar. The material molded itself to her skin as his tongue trailed around the outline of her nipple, and her lips parted, a pleasurable sigh escaping her. Pushing the strap down her shoulder, he moved the material slowly out of the way and groaned as he tasted her skin, as he sucked her breast into his mouth. She whispered his name, and he began to move his hands down her sides, to the waistband of her pants. He found the zipper at her hip and worked it down, slipping his hand inside. She was wearing a scrap of lace that should not have been allowed to be called panties, and he groaned loudly as his lips found hers once more.

Kissing her passionately, James slipped her pants down over her hips and cupped her through that little bit of lace. She was soaked. He tore his mouth away and stared at her wide-eyed. "Holy fuck, you're wet."

She smiled then, and bucked ever so slightly against his hand. "You turn me on, too."

He grinned as he slipped a finger past the lace and trailed it across her wet slit. Her eyes widened, and she moaned his name as he slipped the digit inside her. She was tight. Hot and tight. "Have to taste you," he said as he began kissing his way down her body.

He pulled her pants off, her panties following quickly behind, and deposited them on the floor as he settled between her legs. She gazed down at him with lust shining in her eyes, and he did not look away as he lowered his lips to her pussy. His tongue darted out, swirling around her clit, and she cried out as he began to feast on her. She tasted fantastic, like clove honey, he decided. He slipped a finger inside of her, then two, stretching her slightly as he worked her closer to orgasm. Michelle bucked up against his mouth and he held her still with one arm, her cries of pleasure turning him on even more. He felt her walls beginning to flutter around his finger and increased the speed and pressure of his tongue. Flicking her clit back and forth, he curved his fingers inside of her, and she screamed his name as she came.

He continued to lap at her as she came down from her high, and he didn't stop until she was tugging at him, trying to pull him back up to her. He groaned into her mouth when she didn't hesitate even for a second before kissing him hard, sweeping her tongue into his mouth. Her hands were on his hips, moving along the waistband of his jeans, and she tugged at them. "Off," she murmured against his lips, and he could not have agreed more.

There was just one thing wrong and he was, as he stood up and gathered her in his arms, determined to fix it. "James?" she questioned.

He kissed her again as he carried her through the condo, and into his bedroom. "Want you here, on the bed."

She smiled as he sat her down on the bed, and pulled him closer to stand in front of her. She unfastened his jeans quickly, and pushed them past his hips. She grinned up at him when his cock sprang free; he was not wearing underwear. His jeans pooled at his ankles and she took him into her mouth, sucking gently. "Fuck, Michelle," he cried as her tongue swirled around his tip, lapping at the precome that had accumulated there. "Fuck yes."

Wrapping her hand around his cock, she stroked him up and down as she sucked on the tip. James' eyes drifted closed and he had to force himself not to thrust into her mouth. It felt so good, so very good. But he wanted to be inside of her. Pulling her off of him, he dragged her up to him, catching her bottom lip between his teeth gently. "What do you want?" he asked after a moment.

"Condom?" she asked, clearly hoping he had one.

"Of course," he said.

"Then I want you to fuck me."

His eyes widened at her very direct answer, and he kissed her again as he reached out for the bedside table, easily pulling the protection from the drawer. He slipped his other hand between them, between her legs, testing her readiness. She was still practically dripping, and it was all he could do to keep from throwing her back on the bed and pounding into her right then. He opened the condom and she helped him, much to his pleasure, roll it onto his cock. Tugging at his waist, she pulled him onto the bed with her, kissing him again as they moved to lay next to each other.

"You're sure?" he felt obligated to ask.

She reached out, grabbing his dick and stroking hard. "I'm sure."

Moving above her, James kissed her softly as he lined himself up with her entrance. She spread her legs wider, and he pushed forward, slipping the head of his cock inside of her tight pussy. "Shit, you are so tight," he murmured, and she thrust her hips, taking his entire length into her.

They both cried out, pleasure filling them, and he was lost to the feeling of her around him. He began to thrust, pulling out and back in slowly, and she wrapped her legs around him, and met each thrust with her own. "James!" she cried out. "Oh, God, yes, James!"

"So good," he told her. "You feel so good."

"Harder," she pleaded. "Fuck me. Fuck me harder."

He pounded into her, hard and fast. "Like that?" he asked. "You want me to fuck you like that?"

"Yes, Jim, yes. Take me."

He let go then, and did as she asked. Her cries of pleasure mixed with his own, the sound of skin upon skin filling the room. He slipped his hand between them when he felt his orgasm building, and began to flick her clit from side to side. She clung to him, her nails digging into his back as he continued to fuck her, to pound into her relentlessly. "Gonna cum, baby," he said, "Gonna cum for you."

She held his eyes, and thrust against him. He increased the pressure on her clit and she cried out in pleasure. "James, yes, fuck yes!"

Michelle came hard, his name falling so easily, so naturally, from her lips, and James thrust into her twice more before pleasure overtook him. "Michelle," he breathed as he collapsed against her. "Michelle."

Her arms tightened around him, and he pulled out of her as he rolled them over. "Did I hurt you?" he asked softly, knowing that he had not held back at all.

She shook her head, and kissed him before resting her head on his chest. "Not at all. That was . . . that was fantastic."

"Yeah," he murmured into her hair. "Yeah, it was."

Neither one of them thought about having to return to their normal lives, or how things would have to change (they would just have to) between them. They simply held on to each other and slept, letting the night slip away from them. They'd deal with everything else by the light of day.

End Story #1.

There will be more of this . . . it'll probably turn into a little series. I do, however, wanna finish my other story first, so be patient please. :)