On The Cusp of Adulthood:
Fandom: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Cordelia/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Cordy's S3 Buffy arc, "Graduation Day"
Warnings: Serious ickiness, in the form of, uh, well, that would be telling. Let's just say this was written for the bad!sex challenge and took that challenge seriously.
Notes: For jedi_penguin, who issued a very , er special challenge. She totally now owes me Giles/Oz/Willow/Tara
Wordcount: 1,307
Disclaimer: If I were Joss, I would be, uh, sleeping with Alexis Denisof not posting fanfic on LiveJournal.
Summary: Cordelia learns a valuable lesson.


"On the Cusp of Adulthood"

Cordelia couldn't stop staring at Wesley, not even after that disastrous kiss. He was like a trainwreck, or a really hideous outfit from Sears--she couldn't look away, even though he just made her want to cry with frustration. First there was Xander, who was a wonderful kisser when he could keep his mind off Willow for five minutes (and sometimes for twenty minutes, or thirty minutes, and wow, had those been special kisses!), and now here was Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, with all the sex appeal that two last names and a prestigious education could endow, and he kissed worse than her very first boyfriend had, and he'd been sixteen at the time. (She'd been thirteen.)

She kept glancing at him, and finally, she caught him glancing back. Now that was interesting. How could he possibly have the audacity to look at her after humiliating her like that? How disgusting. And yet also, oddly endearing. No, endearing was the wrong word. Sexy, maybe. Dammit, Cordy. He was not a good kisser; there was no way he would be... and he wasn't even her type. Well, not really. She would have liked more muscle on him, and less with the books, and more with the excellent kissing, but she supposed she couldn't have everything.

"Perhaps we could try again?" Cordelia wanted to laugh, and possibly smack him, and the lost puppy look wasn't a turn-on anymore, if it ever was, not since Xander had started wearing it as everyday wear. Which it totally wasn't. Not even eveningwear. More like, once a year, on Halloween, when Cordelia knew enough to stay inside and avoid the dweebs.

While she thought all this, she managed to say in her queenliest voice, "Excuse me?"

"I realize that it wasn't very... effective... but perhaps with the first time under our belts, we would manage a more, er, well..."

"Under your belt?" Cordelia asked, arching her eyebrow to a perfection of disdain. "What exactly do you think is under your belt that could interest me?"

She could see Wesley swallowing, and she smiled. Absolutely. Make him squirm first.

"If I didn't know better, I might think you were trying to take advantage of me."

He gurgled a bit.

"Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. No one -- and I mean no one -- takes advantage of Cordelia Chase."

"I didn't mean to suggest..."

She walked over to him, put a finger over his lips. "Nuh uh, I'm not done yet. What I was trying to say is that if I want to kiss you, I will. And if I want to go down on you, I'll do that too. My choice. Not yours. That's what four years at a progressive high school will teach you--that's what feminism is really about."

She didn't remove her finger from Wesley's lips, but she could sense movement in the area of his groin, which is when she first started to take seriously the idea that she might be getting herself into something. Maybe something good, maybe something bad, maybe something that was a serious mistake according to that stupid sex ed class they'd had to take junior year, but definitely something.

Wesley still didn't say anything, which was mildly disturbing. How was she supposed to know what he wanted her to do if he wouldn't say? But her finger was blocking that information from getting out, so she had to rely on the stirring of his dick beneath his (oh so nice but far too formal) trousers. Cordelia took a deep breath, moved both hands to the clasp of Wesley's belt, and prepared to give the first blowjob of her life.

It started off all right (she reminded him later when she was trying to assign blame), although kneeling in front of him had been awkward, and she had a moment of panic when she wondered what Giles would say to them doing this in front of the books. But she calmed down. Deep breathing helped. Remember to breathe, stupid, she reminded herself. She stared at the mass of flesh and hair that confronted her. At first she had trouble figuring out which bit was which, since this didn't look anything like the diagrams in the health book that they'd colored blue: blue dots on the scrota, blue stripes on the glans. There was no blue anywhere, just lots of pink and red, skintones and darker, and hair. So much hair. Wesley's face was clean-shaven and his hair short; it was hard to believe there was so much hair down here.

She took another deep breath, gulped a little, and tried to take him in her mouth. She missed drastically, her face landing somewhere in the area of his bellybutton. She recovered quickly (cheerleading teaches a girl to improvise from her mistakes) and tried a few teasing kisses there. Wesley groaned and jerked so hard she was afraid (or maybe hopeful) that he would come before she could even start the blow part of the blowjob. But it didn't happen, and she tried again, her mouth open wide, to slide her lips around Wesley's penis. She shuddered a little at the thought that she was putting that in her mouth, but she tried not to think about it and focused on keeping her teeth covered, which was the one thing that Harmony had been willing to share about her first time on her knees.

It took her a few minutes to get over the initial shock of penis-in-mouth oddness, and for her jaw to relax enough, but she eventually started sucking, and moving her tongue around a little -- though there wasn't that much room in there -- and Wesley wobbled against the bookshelf. Cordelia was starting to fear that they'd send the bookcases falling, but Wesley's excitement was almost contagious. Not in the sexual way -- she couldn't imagine this possibly being a turn-on for anyone -- but in the power way, the way wearing a short skirt made her the most envied and sought-after and therefore the most powerful girl in school.

She wanted more of that power.

So she gathered up her courage, which was considerable, and decided to go deeper. She had only a vague conception of what this might mean, but she tried pushing her mouth further down, and Wesley seemed to be pushing further up, and between them they were definitely doing something that wasn't undeep. Wesley hadn't been coherent in a long time, but she thought his moans were getting more raspy, and so she persisted, even though she had a funny feeling something was about to go wrong, and moreover, it was starting to feel really counterintuitive to go further.

But there it was, Wesley's penis all the way down her mouth, and she couldn't really suck or lick anymore, just... oh God, ugh, ugh, she couldn't breathe for fuck's sake and ewwww...

Neither of them could get away fast enough, but it was really right there, her puke all over Wesley's dick, and the library, and the books they were supposed to be reading, and Wesley looked so mortified it would have been funny if she hadn't felt like crawling into a coffin or something, it was just that gross.

"This is totally your fault. I'm suing for emotional damages."

Wesley managed to get his voice back long enough to say, "And tell everyone what you were doing in the school library?"

Cordelia had never been so glad that they were about to get rid of the library for good, or that Wesley was leaving, never to be seen again. In fact, as far as she was concerned, this was just one last embarrassment in a high school career that had been full of far more than her share of embarrassments. She couldn't wait to get away.