Levi's 501 Original Shrink-to-Fit Button-Fly Jeans 1/2
anonymous
August 20 2011, 00:50:28 UTC
Buffy took the stake that Giles handed her and looked around the cemetery. Nothing up. Nothing to do but wait for this stupid fledgling to wake up and dig. Giles looked bored too. He was leaning a shoulder against the nearest crypt with his hands tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. Buffy took a second look. Yes, jeans.
"New jeans, Giles?"
"Hmm? Oh, these. No. I've had them for quite a while. Twenty years, maybe."
Giles was wearing jeans that were as old as Buffy was. They didn't look like they were decrepit and ragged in any way, though. They looked like, well, Levi's, red tab and all. The size tag in the back was too faded and crinkled to read any more. Buffy knew Giles's pants size anyway. Though these looked smaller than his usual. In fact--
"I can see why you kept them. They fit kind of, um, perfectly." That was an understatement. They hugged Giles's ass in a way she'd never seen that ass hugged by anything before. Which was a pity, really, because it was a very huggable ass.
"Shrink to fit. I'm certain you have them here, yes? One buys them and sits in a bath wearing them so they shrink properly. Done right they mold themselves to your skin."
"Oh! Those. I thought people stopped doing that when they started coming pre-sandblasted."
Giles rolled his eyes. "Perhaps *you* did."
Buffy didn't respond to that, even though it was obviously intended as an insult, because she was too busy trying to imagine Giles sitting in a bathtub wearing Levi's and nothing else. Giles, victim of fashion? More likely than you'd think. He liked to pretend he wasn't the sort of man who owned a blowdryer and had a mirror on the inside of his closet door, but he was.
Giles cleared his throat. "They, er, start off a bit stiff. Heavy-weight fabric. They soften as you wear them. These are quite my favorite jeans. You ought to get a pair."
Buffy ran her hand over the denim on his ass, testing this claim about softness. Yes, buttery soft, like her better real cotton jeans, and then hard underneath from muscle. Maybe there was something hard in front too. Certainly there was something hard developing underneath the fly, something Buffy found herself most interested in.
Buffy rubbed her palm up and down over the fly, just to check. Definitely interesting.
She slipped a finger into that fly. "Mmmm, buttons." Buttons that the interesting something was starting to strain against. She popped the middle button open to give it some relief.
"Buffy--" he said.
"I like buttons." She popped another one, slipped two fingers into the gap in his fly, and explored. "Mmm, slippery. Satin?"
"What?"
Did Giles sound a little hoarse? He did. Buffy undid a third button, with all due caution and respect for these twenty-year-old jeans that had to treated with care. They were Giles's favorites after all.
"Remember the color?"
"Color?"
Another button. "Your underwear. What color is it?"
"Black? I think?"
Thinking was not something Giles was doing at that moment. At least Buffy hoped not. She was cupping him through his jeans hard and he was pressing himself into her hand. She knew what he liked.
Another button. How many buttons did it take to get to the tootsie roll center of the tootsie pop? Answer: six. And now she got to lick it.
"New jeans, Giles?"
"Hmm? Oh, these. No. I've had them for quite a while. Twenty years, maybe."
Giles was wearing jeans that were as old as Buffy was. They didn't look like they were decrepit and ragged in any way, though. They looked like, well, Levi's, red tab and all. The size tag in the back was too faded and crinkled to read any more. Buffy knew Giles's pants size anyway. Though these looked smaller than his usual. In fact--
"I can see why you kept them. They fit kind of, um, perfectly." That was an understatement. They hugged Giles's ass in a way she'd never seen that ass hugged by anything before. Which was a pity, really, because it was a very huggable ass.
"Shrink to fit. I'm certain you have them here, yes? One buys them and sits in a bath wearing them so they shrink properly. Done right they mold themselves to your skin."
"Oh! Those. I thought people stopped doing that when they started coming pre-sandblasted."
Giles rolled his eyes. "Perhaps *you* did."
Buffy didn't respond to that, even though it was obviously intended as an insult, because she was too busy trying to imagine Giles sitting in a bathtub wearing Levi's and nothing else. Giles, victim of fashion? More likely than you'd think. He liked to pretend he wasn't the sort of man who owned a blowdryer and had a mirror on the inside of his closet door, but he was.
Giles cleared his throat. "They, er, start off a bit stiff. Heavy-weight fabric. They soften as you wear them. These are quite my favorite jeans. You ought to get a pair."
Buffy ran her hand over the denim on his ass, testing this claim about softness. Yes, buttery soft, like her better real cotton jeans, and then hard underneath from muscle. Maybe there was something hard in front too. Certainly there was something hard developing underneath the fly, something Buffy found herself most interested in.
Buffy rubbed her palm up and down over the fly, just to check. Definitely interesting.
She slipped a finger into that fly. "Mmmm, buttons." Buttons that the interesting something was starting to strain against. She popped the middle button open to give it some relief.
"Buffy--" he said.
"I like buttons." She popped another one, slipped two fingers into the gap in his fly, and explored. "Mmm, slippery. Satin?"
"What?"
Did Giles sound a little hoarse? He did. Buffy undid a third button, with all due caution and respect for these twenty-year-old jeans that had to treated with care. They were Giles's favorites after all.
"Remember the color?"
"Color?"
Another button. "Your underwear. What color is it?"
"Black? I think?"
Thinking was not something Giles was doing at that moment. At least Buffy hoped not. She was cupping him through his jeans hard and he was pressing himself into her hand. She knew what he liked.
Another button. How many buttons did it take to get to the tootsie roll center of the tootsie pop? Answer: six. And now she got to lick it.
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