Author: SallyMcFine
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, and am not profiting from this story, except for spiritually, of course.

Xander deposited his steak sandwich on the table and folded his body into one of the too-small chairs that populated the mall's food court. Buffy looked up from her salad at his steaming, meaty lunch with longing.

"If you want a steak sandwich, Buffy, why don't you just get one?" he asked.

"There's a dance for the employees at Angel's hotel tonight," Buffy said. "I have the perfect dress, but I bought it in high school and I'm not sure I'll fit into it anymore."

"Oh, please," Willow said as she munched on a potato chip. "I think you're thinner now than in high school."

"Yeah, but there's no sense in taking chances," Buffy replied as she reached over and took a handful of Willow's potato chips.

"Help yourself," Willow said dryly. "Are you spending the night in L.A.?"

"Yep."

"So how is the project going?" Xander asked, picking up his sandwich and taking a greasy bite.

"Good!" Willow said. "We have six stories, and it's only been posted for about two weeks. That's a decent number."

"Are any of them any good?" Buffy asked, snagging a stray chunk of ribeye that had fallen onto Xander's tray.

"They all are," Willow said. "Five of them, anyway - I only skimmed the one that came in today, but it looks kind of up your alley, Xander."

"How so?" he said, glaring at Buffy as her hand strayed near his meal again.

"Well, in it Xena is a pizza delivery woman who delivers a pizza to the wrong house. But when Gabrielle sees the pizza - and Xena - she wants them both, but doesn't have any money to pay. So she offers to work out alternate payment arrangements."

Xander started to laugh, but inhaled a bite of his sandwich at the same time and his laugh became a cough. Buffy pounded him on the back and offered him a drink of her water.

"Thanks," he said.

"Maybe you shouldn't eat the rest of this - it seems dangerous."

He rolled his eyes. "Go ahead, take the other half."

Buffy smiled and helped herself to the untouched half of his steak sandwich.

"So what was all the laughing about?" Willow said, once Xander's cough had subsided completely.

He chuckled. "Whoever sent in that story must watch a lot of porn."

"Porn?"

He nodded. "That's like the oldest porn cliche in the book, the old 'I don't have any money to pay for my pizza' routine."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy confirmed through a mouthful of steak and cheese. "What? Angel gets free pay-per-view at the hotel," she said at Willow's scandalized expression.

"Don't tell me that lesbians don't watch porn, Willow," Xander said. "You're crushing all my fantasies."

Willow gave them a haughty look. "We are much too pure and innocent for anything so base and vile as pornography, plebeians."

Though her tone was serious, a gleam in her eye belied her words. The conversation switched to other topics as the three finished their lunch.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I'd like to order a large pizza with pineapple and banana peppers."

Tara frowned, confused. "Willow? Is this you?"

Laughter came through the phone. "Yep."

"Hi, sweetie," Tara said, leaning forward from the pile of pillows that had been propping her up and pushing aside the pile of textbooks and notebooks she had been using to study. "Why are you ordering a pizza from me?"

"We got another story today," Willow said.

"And it made you hungry?" Tara took off her glasses and settled them on top of her head.

"Hungry for something," Willow replied in a seductive tone. "Buffy's spending the night in L.A. with Angel, and I'm all alone over here."

Tara shifted the phone from one hand to the other. They usually spent the nights apart on Wednesday, since both of them had early classes Thursday. If Willow was calling to invite her over, it must mean that she was finished with her homework.

Or maybe she had other reasons.

"Tell me about this story," Tara said.

"Well, Aphrodite is Gabrielle's next-door neighbor. They're not really friends, but she notices that Gabrielle seems lonely a lot of the time. Also, she seems to magically know that Gabrielle is a lesbian."

Tara laughed. "In fan fiction, everyone is a lesbian."

"True. Anyway, Aphrodite orders pizza often enough that she knows that Xena is the delivery person on Friday nights. So she orders a pizza to be sent to Gabrielle's house, instead of hers. Xena shows up at Gabrielle's house, but Gabby doesn't have any money and - well, let me just say that it is a really good pizza."

"This sounds like a porn cliche," Tara said.

"Why does everyone know this but me?" Willow's anguished tone was clear.

"Don't worry about it, honey - remember who my roommate is, after all. She's submitting a workshop proposal to UberCon '06 comparing and contrasting the pornographical movie industry with NC-17 fan fiction, so she's been doing a lot of research."

"Anyway," Willow said, "I'm finished with my homework, and sitting here all by my lonesome, and Lost is a rerun. What's a girl to do?"

Tara looked at her pile of books. She was finished with everything that had an immediate deadline attached to it, and her next paper wasn't due for two weeks. She had almost finished the outline for the paper, a modern feminist interpretation of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, so she felt like she could spare the additional hour she had blocked off to start writing the first draft.

"I'll be right over," she told Willow.

Tara pulled her car into the visitor's parking spot at Willow's apartment complex, her ears still slightly red twenty minutes after Anya had listened to her say she was making an impromptu visit to Willow's house, pronouncing it a 'booty call.'

Tara was enjoying the spontaneity that had entered their lovemaking since the UberSmut project had started. They hadn't exactly fallen into a routine, since they had only been intimate for three months, but their busy school schedules kept them apart enough that already the weekends had become "their time" and middle-of-the-week trysts were rare enough to be something special. UberSmut had inspired her, though, and not just with new ideas.

And apparently this pizza story had inspired Willow, because Tara could almost feel the excited energy vibrating from her girlfriend as she greeted her at the front door with a quick kiss.

"Someone here order a pineapple and banana peppers pizza?" Tara drawled as Willow shut the door.

Willow shot her a look. "Well yes...but I don't have any money."

Tara frowned. "Well, miss, I can't just leave this pizza here without payment. We're not in the business of giving it away for free."

Willow snickered at that, but quickly recovered herself. "Is there something else I could interest you in?" She struck a hipshot pose and batted her eyes at Tara.

Tara's eyes sparkled with mirth. "Possibly. What did you have in mind?"

"Well," Willow began, "I could siphon the gasoline out of my car and fill yours up. A few gallons would cover it."

Tara shook her head. "Full tank. Filled up on the way over here."

"Or," Willow continued, "I could go back with you to the pizza parlor and wash some dishes."

"Nope. Already have three people on dishes tonight."

"Or," Willow concluded, "You could let me...work it off." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Tara.

Tara let her gaze wander up and down Willow's body, clad as she was in gray Sunnydale High sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt she had stolen from Tara that said 'God is a girl and she's cute.' From the heat and ardor that was in Tara's eyes, though, Willow may as well have been wearing a lace teddy, or nothing at all. She stepped forward and claimed Willow with her arms and lips, kissing her thoroughly and at length.

"Mmmmm," said Willow as they broke apart, sighing happily. "Better ingredients, better pizza."

Tara quirked an eyebrow at her. "Are you comparing me to Papa John's?"

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Willow replied. "Come in, don't stand in the foyer."

Tara kicked off her shoes and left them by the door, following Willow into the living room. "So what happened next? I haven't read the story."

Willow bit her lip. "It's kind of complicated, actually - there's a lot to keep up with. I actually printed the story out in case we needed to refer to it."

"You mean we have an actual script for this? Don't tell me you have hidden cameras set up too." Tara took the small packed of stapled paper from Willow and skimmed the first page.

"That would be just creepy," Willow said. "Although maybe someday..."

Tara smiled at that, but didn't reply as a blush crept up her neck.

"Anyway," Willow said, "the next thing was more kissing over here by the couch. You stand here and kind of lean on it."

"Are you sure?" Tara said, studying the page. "It just says 'she leaned on the couch, with her hands in her hair.' That could be you."

"Maybe," Willow said. "But from the context I'd guess it was Xena, since she walks into the room with the pizza and puts it on the coffee table. She was the one walking."

"Fair enough," Tara said, and leaned on the back of the couch. She plunged her hands deeply into her blonde tresses and started to massage her scalp.

"What are you doing?" Willow said.

"It says 'with her hands in her hair.'"

"I think that means MY hair. We're supposed to be kissing now."

Tara giggled at Willow‘s pout. "Well, come over here and kiss me, then. With such vague pronouns, I can't be expected to keep track of everything."

Mollified, Willow walked over into Tara's embrace and they kissed. Tara transferred her hands to Willow's head and rubbed her hair and neck.

Tara leaned into the kiss, luxuriating in the familiar taste and texture of Willow's mouth. So many hours spent kissing, and she felt like she could never get enough. Her even teeth, her questing tongue, her lips that were impossibly soft. At these times, when she wasn't lost in the sensation of the kiss, she thought her emotion would overwhelm her and the only way she could express what she felt for Willow was to increase the intensity and pace of the kiss. She matched the tempo of the kiss was increasing pressure and scratches on Willow's head, and the girl shivered with pleasure at the combined sensations.

She felt Willow's answering passion, and for a moment considered abandoning the pretense of pizza delivery they had been playing at. But she reconsidered - after all, she had seen the sparkle of excitement in Willow's eyes when she had greeted her according to the plot in the story, and decided to continue in that vein for a while.

"What's next?" she murmured into Willow's ear, transferring her hands from her head to the small of her back, tracing little patterns.

Willow let a little moan escape the back of her throat. "Mmmm."

Tara took the story from Willow's hand as she continued to breathe and nibble on her earlobe. She held up the page behind Willow's head.

"Gabrielle straddled Xena and gripped the back of the couch as they continued their kiss," she read, pausing to gently nip at Willow's neck. "Huh. How are you supposed to straddle me if we're standing up?"

Willow reluctantly turned in Tara's embrace to look. "Hmmm," she said, scanning above the paragraph in question, and then reading down a little further. "I think that you're supposed to be sitting on the couch."

"When did that happen?" Tara asked, also scanning the previous paragraphs.

"It doesn't say," Willow replied. She shrugged.

Tara decided to roll with it - after all, she would much rather return to kissing Willow than to try to work out a continuity gap in a story. She walked around the couch and sat down, laying the story by her side for reference in case there were more questions about what happened next.

She opened her arms and gave Willow a sultry look. "Come here, Gabrielle, and let's continue this kiss."

Willow leapt onto Tara's lap, straddling her and gripping the back of the couch, eager to comply. She covered Tara's lips with her own, and wriggled with pleasure as Tara resumed her gentle, tickling caresses on the small of her back.

"Mmmm, now what?" she asked. "Not that I want you to stop doing that," she added, "but I feel like I might melt soon."

"No melting until I say so," Tara teased, glancing over at the story to her right. "She reached under her shirt and caressed the sides of her breasts through the lacy undergarment," she read.

"Who, you or me?" Willow asked.

"It's hard to say," Tara said. "That's the thing about writing lesbian sex scenes - you don't want to always say 'Xena did this, Gabrielle did that' but the pronouns are identical."

"Well, I'll figure this out scientifically," said Willow. She reached under the hem of Tara's shirt, finding it awkward to bend her arms enough from her current position to reach the blonde's breasts. "That settles it - you're the one heading for second base here."

Tara laughed. "You just want me to touch you, my little vixen."

"That, too," Willow said. She spread her arms in an 'aw shucks' gesture.

Tara took that opportunity to reach under Willow's shirt and began a teasing caress of the sides of her breasts. "Although I must point out that you're not wearing a lacy undergarment." Under her T-shirt, Willow wore no bra at all.

"I guess you'll have to use your imagination," Willow said, losing herself in the touch and closing her eyes.

Tara gazed up at Willow, relishing the rapturous expression on her face as she continued her gentle strokes, making circles that came teasingly close to her nipples. Willow began to move her hips in time with the rhythm of Tara's stroking.

Tara glanced over at the page. "Gabrielle took one of Xena's erect nipples into her mouth, flicking her tongue gently."

Willow frowned and opened her eyes. "How am I supposed to do that from this position? And when did our shirts come off?"

"Not to mention your invisible lacy undergarment," Tara said. She took the hem of Willow's shirt and lifted it over the girl's head. "Maybe the author mixed up who's who. I'm going to ad lib this part, if you don't mind." She touched Willow's back, gently urging her to lean forward, and captured a nipple in her mouth.

After Tara's gently maddening caresses, Willow's reaction was instantaneous. She leaned forward into the touch and made a whimper of satisfaction. Tara continued her ministrations, and Willow dug her fingers gently into the back of Tara's neck as the waves of pleasure coursed through her body.

Tara loved the times that she could pleasure Willow. Their lovemaking was generally an equal-time affair, with neither of them consistently being the leader. Sometimes, however, Willow's eagerness and enthusiasm meant that she took the reins before Tara had really had her fill of her girlfriend's lithe body. Of course, I'm not sure if I could ever really get my fill of Willow - we would both probably die of thirst before I felt like I was done.

Regardless, Tara was enjoying herself. She drank in both Willow's body and her reactions like nectar, and felt an answering ache in her own center. She paused for a moment to pick up the pages.

Willow gazed lovingly at Tara as she read. "Okay, it seems that at some point during that we laid down on the couch," Tara said finally.

Willow dismounted from Tara's lap and lay down on the couch, stretching her legs out across the blonde's lap. "Okay." She watched Tara's brow furrow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly" Tara said. "It's just hard to tell what happens next."

"Want to read it out loud?"

"Her passion threatened to overtake her actions and sweep her away as coherent thought fled her mind. She rolled on top of the other girl, and reached down between her legs to gently cup her mound. She stroked her cheek and kissed her neck, her collarbone, and her ear, all in rapid succession. She cupped her ass and thrust her center against her firm thigh."

"Huh," Willow said. "Well, why don't you lie down. I think I can remember that whole sequence."

"But is it Gabrielle who is on top?" Tara said.

"Who knows?" Willow replied, sitting up. "C'mon, I wanna cup your mound."

Tara giggled and set the pages on the floor as she swiveled around to lie on the couch.

"Really, you're wearing too many clothes," Willow said, bracing her upper body with her arms and elbows as she gently lowered her body onto Tara's and kissed Tara's forehead, both eyelids, and cheeks. "I think from the action on this page that at least one or both of us is close to naked."

Tara grinned. "True - if someone's going to grind against someone else's thigh, they probably don't want to be wearing jeans - or those wicked hot sweatpants," she added, snapping the waistband of Willow's garment. She snaked a hand down inside the back of the sweatpants. "Ooh, commando. Naughty."

Willow giggled. "I'm just an innocent girl spending an evening alone at home, never dreaming that a hot, tantalizing pizza was going to show up at my front door," she said. "Underwear didn't seem like it was called for."

Tara smiled back. "Well, neither are sweatpants anymore," she said, tugging them so they were half off, exposing Willow's naked bottom. "Off."

Willow scrambled up into a kneeling position, yanking the sweat pants off her legs and tossing them aside. "What about you?" she said to Tara, who hadn't moved and was gazing at Willow's naked body with appreciation. Or maybe appreciation wasn't the right word - her expression was much more one of ogling.

"Willow, I have lust in my heart," Tara replied, affecting a fake southern accent.

"And you have clothes on your body," Willow said. "Let me take care of that." She unbuttoned Tara's jeans and tugged them off. Tara lifted her hips to help, and then sat up and unbuttoned her blouse. She shrugged it off her shoulders and lay back, clad only in a silky blue bra and matching panties.

"These look familiar," Willow said, drinking in the sight. "That's the underwear that Anya gave you right before UberCon '05, isn't it?"

Tara nodded.

"Lucky coincidence you wore it today," Willow said as she resettled herself on top of Tara, luxuriating in the feel of skin on skin. She reached down with her right hand to cup and stroke Tara's center through her panties while planting kisses on her neck, collarbone, and ear, just as the story had said.

"Mmm...luck...had nothing to do with it," Tara said, enjoying the attention.

Willow propped herself up on her elbow and stroked Tara's cheek with her left hand. "Did you change before you came over here?"

"M-maybe," Tara said distractedly. "Anya said it was a booty call, so I figured I might as well dress appropriately."

Willow laughed. "I can picture her saying that, although I'd rather not picture it right now. All right, now I'm supposed to cup your ass and thrust my center against your firm thigh. I wonder with which hand? I don't really want to let go with this hand," she wriggled her fingers against Tara's center. "Here, hang on..."

She shifted her weight to the left toward the edge of the couch and reached down with her left hand, finding it hard to touch, much less cup, Tara's ass since she was lying on her back. She settled for squeezing her hip. Okay, now I'm supposed to grind on her...

Thump. "Baby!" Tara said as Willow landed heavily on the carpeted floor. "Are you okay?"

Willow smiled ruefully. "The action in this story defies the laws of physics," she said as she sat up.

"Let's skip ahead," said Tara. "This part seems a little dangerous."

They skipped forward to the next page. Things went smoothly for a time, and both girls were breathing heavily until a questionable paragraph left them both puzzled.

"Whose arm is supposed to go where?" said Tara.

"I think mine is supposed to go around your thigh."

"From the inside or the outside?"

"Let me try it. Nope," Willow said. "The outside doesn't seem to work, and the inside is just...a little weird. Maybe it's your arm and not mine."

"All right," said Tara. "Let me see..."

"Hey! Not there."

"Sorry," said Tara, her face flaming red as her hand encountered some unfamiliar territory. "Maybe it's not my arm after all."

"Let me see that," Willow said, snatching the story from Tara's hands. She scanned the section of the page in question. "Here, put your arm here," she said, "and then I'll put my hand here...wait, that doesn’t seem to work, maybe it's my left arm...okay, now you put your other arm down there..."

"Ouch!" Tara cried as her wrist bent backward.

"Oh, honey, are you okay?” Willow said, immediately abandoning the pages and sitting up to cradle Tara in her arms. "Is it sprained?"

"No, I don't think so," Tara said, rubbing the wrist. "But I don't think that was the right way either."

"It's like the author was watching three drunk people play naked Twister to choreograph this sex scene," Willow said.

"No kidding,” said Tara. "I don't think we have enough limbs for this."

Willow tossed the script aside. "Tell you what, let’s just improvise the rest."

Tara grinned. "Okay."

Freed from the constraints of an ambiguously written sex scene, they quickly lost themselves in each other. She touched, kissed, and licked her body, her breasts, and her warm, wet center until their arms and legs were so erotically entangled that it was difficult to tell where her body began and where her girlfriend's ended. First she climaxed, and then soon after, her lover followed, their cries as one, echoing off the walls of the empty apartment and filling it with the sounds of their rapturous love.