By Selena Ulrich
Faith was drunk.
Faith was stony, stinking, stony-stinking drunk.
Faith was drunk at half-past eleven at night, staggering along a quiet street in the bad part of town, drinking whiskey from a bottle, from a paper bag.
And it was all Buffy's fault.
It was all that slut-whore-bitch-bi-'I'll never leave you Faith'-dyke Buffy's fault. Coming home one night from patrol, finding her naked on all fours, being fucked by Angel like a bitch on heat. It had broken Faith's heart.
And made her so horny.
God, Buffy naked, getting fucked, was such a turn-on. In a perfect world she would have stripped and joined them, worshipped Buffy at one end until Angel had finished, then knelt in his place at the other. Maybe even taken Buffy's place and let Angel fuck her, then slammed a stake home just as he climaxed and have Buffy all to herself, to roll with amongst the ashes.
But Buffy meant too much to Faith for her to destroy her world like that. So instead Faith had waited until the guilty parties saw her, and then stormed out to buy a bottle of Jack and drink to missed opportunities.
Faith was drunk.
Walking through the waterfront district now, past the seedier clubs and bars that no one would admit to. One neon-lit dump was calling to her but she resisted. She was pure sex on the dance floor but not like this: reactions shot, mind detached, not quite all there. A perfect excuse to fall over her own heels and get laughed at, or worse: hit on by the lowest of the low. And Faith was angry, not shameless, and she wasn't going to start grubbing amongst the sewer trash, even if her girl enjoyed getting fucked by corpses.
Faith was *drunk*.
So that left the bars. Nice bars, good bars. Where liquor was cheap and the women were cheaper; Faith didn't care what shit they flushed through their systems as long as they were clean and wouldn't say no just because genitals were being worn on the inside this season.
Faith was drunk.
Closing her eyes and letting her other senses take over. Finding the one that shone brighter than the rest and marching straight in. Going to the bar and ordering a double Bloody Mary; surprised when she got it and it tasted so good.
Faith was drunk.
There was only one other woman there and she too was at the bar. Faith was surprised when she recognised her; she didn't think those types came to places like these, with their blonde hair and their almost designer outfits that once cost more than their entire surroundings. Still, that didn't deter her, just made her change her tactics as she discretely finished her cocktail and slid up to her mark with a purr of
"Wanna buy a girl a drink?"
Cool eyes check her out appraisingly. Then fingers produce cash and Faith is bought another. And another, and another, until the bar threatens to spin and she is forced to cling on to her companion's arm, much to the amusement of the other.
Faith was *really* drunk!
A blur of memory follow until the cool night air hits her and her senses are partially restored. She turns to move on her target only to find it is the blonde's mouth that covers hers, the blonde's tongue that tangles with her own as she is drawn close to that expensive loveliness and feels her breasts crushed so perfectly tightly against the other's.
And sooooo horny!
Kept under control for the duration. Kissed and licked all over the face and neck while firm hands hold her, rubbing her against the leg that pushes between her thighs and causes such intense friction that it might almost be termed abuse if it wasn't so good!
Then half-led, half-dragged to where a car awaits her. Thrust wordlessly into the back seat then locked in as the driver starts the engine and takes them both to their ultimate destiny.
Faith was drunk.
The anticipation as she was helped out. The frisson of fear as she was led upstairs. The cool air against her bare skin, as she was undressed. And then...
Oh God, so full! Stretched and writhing on the woman's fist; being taken, being claimed, being driven to the heights of ecstasy and thrown over the edge into the beyond. Riding the fucking like nothing else mattered on earth, giving herself so completely in a way she would never do with Buffy and knowing that she couldn't care less; would give her everything to this woman if she would promise just once, just once, to take her again like this.
Faith was so drunk.
Now came the slow down. Now came the gentle removal, the slipping between cool sheets, the tucking into bed. The final sensuous playing of her tongue in the blonde's mouth. The warmth of the other woman wrapping herself around her and making her feel so sleepy.
The words.
"You'll have to be out of here first thing in the morning."
The reply.
"Uh-huh. Goodnight Mrs S."
Faith was so...
Faith was ...
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Continued in Going From Bad to Worse.