Buttercup, Awake

Buttercup's voice was soft and small. One foot was still firmly planted in the dream-realm. But she stirred, moving her head so that she could look up at Grimm. "You're awake," she said, nuzzling him.

"I woke up," the bull replied, "and couldn't go back to sleep." He stroked the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair.

"Are you okay?" Buttercup's big doe eyes looked expectantly into his. Those deep pools of chocolate brown threatened to swallow him in the half-light; Grimm was suddenly gripped by a foreign dread that took hold of his heart and squeezed. What spell had this witch cast upon him? What use did she have for him, now that he'd given her everything she'd asked for? Well. Nearly everything. He was still planning to leave.

"Yeah," he said, careful not to raise his voice for fear of rousing the rest of his sleeping lovers. "Just... thinking, I guess."

"About what?" This was a strange, new Buttercup, one he scarce recognized. Where was the perpetually jubilant woman he'd begun to know? It couldn't have just been sleep that tempered her.

"Just..." The great bull sighed. "The future, I guess." He continued to run his hand through her hair.

"Oh." The bandit was quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." There were few things he felt necessary to keep from her. He'd already accidentally revealed the name of his employer, and it was only a matter of time before that name circulated among the rest of the gang. Other than that, there was little he needed to hide.

"And... please answer honestly, okay?" There was an air of worry in her voice -- concern about what would soon come out of his mouth.

"I will." He would.

"Are you really going to come back after your quest is over?"

Grimm thought for a minute. When the answer left his lips it still felt like he hadn't mulled over it enough. But his answer was honest: "I am." Seeing Buttercup's faint, sleep-drunk smile suddenly solidified the truthfulness of his answer. He would come back.

But Buttercup wasn't content. "Will you leave again?"

Another minute. The great bull's chest fluttered. These feelings felt out of place, out of step with the rough-and-tumble monotony of his life. Two words came to his mind; two silly, impulsive words. _Fuck it. _These two words were followed by one word -- one definitive, concrete word.

"No."

Grimm was surprised at Buttercup's reaction: she didn't squeal, she didn't cheer, she didn't cry out or gasp or shout. Maybe she was too tired, maybe she'd already guessed his answer... whatever the case, Buttercup contained herself. That sleepy smile merely grew, and the only sound she made was a soft, happy sigh.

"Promise?" Buttercup asked, although she didn't sound terribly concerned about his answer.

Grimm sighed, feeling oddly... lighter. "I promise," he said, stroking down to her shoulder blades.

Buttercup sighed happily once more and nuzzled Grimm's naked thigh. "I'm glad," she said, and although her voice was soft Grimm could tell it contained a wellspring of joy. Buttercup brought her lips to Grimm's thigh and kissed his taut flesh.

"Me too," Grimm said, squeezing his lover. She sighed and melted into his touch. Another kiss to the thigh.

They were quiet for a while.

"Grimm?"

"Yeah?" He was surprised to hear that his own voice had grown so soft.

"I... I know you need to sleep..."

"It's okay." Grimm looked at the window, watched the clouds.

"But... before you leave..."

"Yeah?" He squeezed her again.

"Will you..." Buttercup went quiet again. Her cheeks went pink. Grimm thought it odd to see her blush.

"...make love to me?"

Grimm smiled at her, moved his hand from the back of her head to her cheek and caressed it. She took his hand in hers and pressed it against her face, nuzzling it.

"Yes." He would.

Buttercup rolled over and pressed her forehead to Grimm's thigh. The bull could see that the cow was still wearing a smile.

She kissed his thigh a few more times, then lifted herself up. Her movements were slow, dulled by sleep, but filled with intention, and it didn't take much time for her to rise to a kneeling position. Buttercup's expansive rear entered the path of the moonlight, which illuminated it, brought it into focus.

Soon the great bull felt something in his loins stir, not just from the immediate gratification of seeing Buttercup's nude, gorgeous form, or from the prospect of having sex with her again. It was hard to describe, but it just felt right.

This felt right.

His newly-risen lover took him in her hand and began to stroke. A small sigh slipped from his lips, and he felt his body begin to slacken. The fear of sudden sleep rose up in him -- what if this sensation helped him find the rest he'd needed? He didn't want to disappoint her.

Buttercup ran her hand along the bull's member, slower and more deliberate than she had in the past. Normally she was the most aggressive of the bandits, especially when it came to things like this, but this time it was different. She was being... affectionate. A small voice at the back of Grimm's mind wondered whether or not Buttercup was even trying to bring him to orgasm, or if she was merely reveling in the act of pleasing someone else.

Of course, those thoughts vanished the moment Buttercup lowered her face to his member and licked it. Grimm nearly gasped, catching himself at the last minute. Buttercup was watching his face; seeing him react so earnestly must have spurred her on, because she slowly brought herself forward until she could comfortably use her mouth to pleasure him.

Grimm sighed as Buttercup took him in her mouth. He arched his back, digging his head into the mound of pillows beneath him. "Buttercup," he whispered, stretching his arm out to her and stroking whatever flesh he could find.

Hearing her name leave Grimm's lips made Buttercup's smile widen. She reached down, took Grimm's hand in hers, and squeezed it, refusing to break her stride as she serviced his aching member. The stillness of the night made it easy for the bull to hear the cow moan and purr into his flesh; clearly she was enjoying this, too. The thought made him harden in her mouth.

This was not the first time Buttercup had taken him in her mouth, but this time was different. Just like before, she was not going at it full speed; she was tender, gentle, as if trying to draw it out for as long as she could.

The cow continued to hold Grimm's hand, periodically squeezing it.

Grimm wasn't sure how much time had passed. For all he knew it could have been hours. He didn't particularly care. Everything was condensed down to this one moment, this one experience, seemingly frozen in crystal.

But it was starting to feel... unfair.

"Buttercup," Grimm whispered. Then, a little louder: "Buttercup."

His lover didn't stop. She really seemed to be enjoying herself. Those big brown eyes were locked onto his, and at the sound of her name they grew wide -- a signal that she was listening.

"I want to..." He would say what he was about to say on her terms; he would say it how she wanted him to say it.

"...make love to you."

Buttercup's cheeks flashed pink at the phrase. It did not seem to be something she'd heard much before, something she shared in common with Grimm. He was used to the casual vulgarities bandied about by his friends and lovers. To say something like this was new. He didn't love Buttercup, not like that, but he wanted to share something with her that felt like it came from a place of love.

There was a frightening millisecond in which Grimm wondered if he could grow to love Buttercup and her companions. Was he turning into a romantic?

Reluctantly, carefully, Buttercup let her lover's member slip free from her mouth. A thin trail of saliva stretched between her lower lip -- and lip-ring -- and the head of his cock. It shone in the moonlight, evoking the supernatural.

"Yeah?" Buttercup asked softly, giving Grimm's shaft a kiss.

The bull nodded. "Yeah," he whispered back, smiling.

That was all the confirmation Buttercup needed. With a happy sigh she climbed on top of him, moving deliberately so as not to wake her sleeping friends. Her hands explored Grimm's chest and stomach as she mounted him, caressing and kneading his muscles.

She didn't take him into herself, not immediately. Instead she brought her hand back to his turgid member and stroked him again, manipulating him toward her groin. Buttercup's smile grew lopsided, silly, as she teased her own sex with Grimm's cock. Its head swept against her gentle folds, teasing her clitoris, swaying in a gentle back-and-forth motion in Buttercup's knowing hand. The cow gently bit her lower lip, trying not to make a sound, and when she'd had enough she carefully lowered herself onto him.

Grimm couldn't help but let out a pleased, moaning sigh as he entered Buttercup. The cow stifled a gasp as she drew herself forward, finding a comfortable position for her knees and hands, and began to slowly rock back and forth. Soon she was rolling her hips, taking all of him into herself, trying to find a pleasurable rhythm that wouldn't wake her compatriots.

The great bull reached up and gripped Buttercup's hips. Now that she was a little steadier the cow began to hump him harder than before. She purred happily, and locked eyes with Grimm, watching for any change in expression, any subtle sign of pleasure. Of course, the bull was probably broadcasting his ecstasy: the occasional flicker of the eyes, the renegade gasp...

Grimm pulled Buttercup down toward him until her breasts were in range. He took one hand from her hips and gently clasped the side of one swaying orb, bringing it to his face. Buttercup was still watching him, still smiling, as Grimm took her nipple in his mouth and began to suck. This was nearly too much for his lover, who started to let out a moaning sigh but stifled it at the last second.

Buttercup's milk soon filled Grimm's mouth. He swallowed it, and the mouthful that came after, and the one that came after that. He could do this for hours, especially if he knew she would enjoy it. He switched breasts, making sure to drain it as well.

Grimm eventually released Buttercup's nipples, but before she could move upright he used his hand to guide her face down to his. It was an impulsive act, but a welcome one. Buttercup blushed as Grimm pressed his lips to hers and kissed her. It was a long, sensuous kiss, and at its climax their mouths opened and their tongues began to dance and play with one another.

The kiss could have gone on for minutes as far Grimm was concerned. As it broke, Grimm took Buttercup's piercing between his teeth and gently tugged at it, making her giggle softly. Buttercup seemed to consider straightening herself up, but something overtook her and she kissed him again. Then she rose, resuming her starting position.

It was like this for a long time. Time ceased to exist for a while, and Grimm (and maybe Buttercup, too) was only snapped back to reality when he realized he was at the threshold of orgasm.

Buttercup said it before he could. "Grimm..." she moaned, her voice a whisper. "I'm cumming..."

"Me... too," he replied, and as if to silence them both he brought her back down to his level and locked lips with her. His hands found hers, squeezed them. Buttercup moaned into his mouth, closing her eyes (prompting him to do the same) and melting into his body. A sharp, sustained moan reverberated through Grimm's body as he and Buttercup came at the same time. He emptied himself into her as she did the same onto him. Neither lover slowed down or stopped; they rode out their mutual orgasm until they couldn't anymore.

They were still holding hands. Buttercup collapsed onto him, lips still locked with his.

The bull was still inside her. They lay like this for several minutes until Buttercup finally pulled her lover from her sex. But she didn't move -- she stayed on top of him, nuzzling his face with her cheek. Then she scooted down a little, stopping when she could comfortably use his chest as a pillow. One hand lowered to his stomach, where she traced his muscles. But her other hand still held his.

"Can I tell you something?" Buttercup asked after a long silence.

"Yeah," Grimm whispered.

"It's silly."

"I've come to expect that from you." He chuckled, soft as he could, and squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back, giggling airily. "Promise you won't laugh."

"I promise," Grimm said. A risky thing to promise, knowing her.

"I... I like you." Crimson colored her cheeks -- a new development.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Buttercup said. She sounded like she was trying to hold herself together. "Like... I really like you."

He didn't have to think about it much. It just sort of... left his mouth before he could really think it through. But the impulsivity of the action didn't diminish its honesty. "I... I like you too, Buttercup."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, then sighed. "I really, really do."

The cow's face practically lit up. Her long, happy sigh tickled Grimm's chest. "That makes me... really happy."

"Me too," Grimm said, giving her a squeeze. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Just sleepy." A pause. "Do you think you'll fall back asleep?"

Grimm smiled. "I do now."

Buttercup purred happily. Her lids grew heavy, and soon closed. "Then let's get some sleep." She nuzzled his chest. "Goodnight, Grimm." She squeezed his hand.

"Goodnight, Buttercup," he replied, squeezing her hand back.

The great bull didn't have the energy or the time to ruminate further. He looked at the sky, the moon, the stars, the clouds, the rustling of the curtains, and the beautiful woman lying on top of him, and then he was asleep.