Disclaimer: I own nothing. All Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of their original owners.
Seeing the smug expression on the face of a naked Xander Harris crawling into their bed, Anya inwardly giggled, happily anticipating what was about to happen. Perhaps her winning streak would finally end tonight, though she seriously doubted that.
About a month ago in their bedroom, during an idle moment between orgasms, the recovering pair had gleefully come up with an erotic game called “Stump the Strumpet” that they’d been enthusiastically playing one night a week ever since. Basically, on those nights, Xander would perform a single, specific sexual act upon his partner, and Anya then had to give the correct designation for exactly what a certain cackling pervert was doing to her.
The rules solemnly worked out by both gave Anya extra time when she had to finish whatever was necessary with her mouth before identifying their activities, and the former vengeance demon had also demanded that “No livestock, foodstuffs, or artificial aids, Xander, since those just make it too difficult.”
After hearing the above, this named individual had developed the usual glazed expression of confoundment common to those listening to Anya, until Xander had mostly managed to get hold of himself to agree, albeit with an excessive amount of drooling lust. Their discussion had then turned to what sort of reward would be awarded to the winner.
Actually, if her lover had just ASKED beforehand, Anya would have been quite willing to dress up in a golden metal, leather, and silk bikini, change her hairstyle to appear as if she now had two large buns attached to the sides of her head, and recite such peculiar statements as, “Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope,” all while Xander Skywalker demonstrated the proper use of the Force on her via his fleshly lightsaber. Orgasms were orgasms, in Anya’s sensible view.
Still, her current four-for-four consecutive victories had now made Xander only more determined to achieve his lifelong dream of nailing Princess Leia in her iconic outfit, so that male had started obsessively researching ever-increasing outré erotic activities. Which, for Anya, had only made it even more fun.
Tonight, she was looking forward to claiming another win, that would result in Xander paying his usual penalty; i.e., twice the usual orgasms. Hers, that is. It was true that for the next few days this would result in that Sunnydale native walking around bowlegged and with his tongue in a splint, but he was a strapping young man in prime physical condition, so he’d recuperate fairly quickly. Until next time.
In their bed, Anya purred as Xander’s magic fingers went to work, and she eagerly awaited his announcement when he’d start his newest sexual endeavor for her to identify. The man wriggled forward in the bed, winding up lying next to Anya, as he turned over on his left side, facing his blond lover.
Xander’s face descended, as he thoroughly kissed Anya, his left hand stroking her hair, while his right hand roamed around the front of her body, fondling, caressing, rubbing, pinching, and tweaking. As her excitement increased, the Norsewoman moaned deep in her throat, with this sound being blocked from escaping by Xander’s own tongue in her mouth caressing her tonsils. To Anya’s surprise, that man’s tongue now withdrew, as the Scooby Gang member then pulled back his head, to smirk into the woman’s startled features, as he snickered, “Now.”
In the next instant, Xander’s right hand swept up for his fingers to gently grip Anya’s chin, as that astonished woman had her face tilted to the right, and then Xander’s face descended once again onto the left side of his partner’s head, seeking a certain part of Anya’s body to start performing a most peculiar action there.
Her face still being held in Xander’s grip, Anya’s eyes became as wide as saucers, as she felt what her lover was doing, with her remaining paralyzed for several moments, until her lips abruptly snapped back into a wide grin, as the woman barely restrained herself from shrieking with laughter. It’d been so long since anyone had ever done that, and only the fact that the name of the specific sexual act that Xander was doing was just so absurd, that this allowed Anya to remember it right now.
Remaining under control with increasing difficulty, since giggling would only spoil her triumph, Anya cleared her throat, and then she calmly said, “Xander, I didn’t know you were a gynotikolobomassophile.”
The man froze, as his lover’s body started to shake in preparation for howling in victorious glee, and then Xander Harris simply sighed his acknowledgement of defeat into Anya’s ear, as he went back to nibbling on her left earlobe.
Author’s Note: This is the last story in this series, and I hope you enjoyed them all! Merry Christmas, everybody! HO! HO! HO!