Not the Week by S. Kelley Harrell slug@nando.net NC17, MSR, No spoilers. XXXXXXXXXXXX Friday 24 May 1996 1:20am Scully's apartment Chugging down the last of his beer, Mulder sat his empty bottle on the coffee table, amidst the clutter of other bottles, some tumblers, candy wrappers, chip bags, and the elusive Budget Gourmet tin. He settled back in the recliner and looked over at Scully, the rag doll splayed over the couch. "You want another?" she asked, propping her forehead on the heel of her palm, her eyes almost crossing as she peered past her wrist to focus on him. "Not right now. Maybe later..." he appeared caught in a daze, and Scully's patience was waning. "So finish the story!" She gestured toward him with her propping arm, her head lolling under the weight of itself, coming to rest on the arm of the couch. 'No more mixing beer and rum for me. At least tomorrow is Saturday.' It had been a slow week at the office, so there were no giant flukes to lay in wait for. "That's pretty much it..." Mulder said, shrugging. "You've go to be kidding," Scully said. "_That_ is your wildest sexual fantasy?" "Sorry disappoint you," he responded, feigning injury. It really wasn't his _wildest_ fantasy, but even drunk he had the decorum not to disclose that he wanted Scully to tie him to a chair and spank his cock with a leather thong while she stood over him wearing only Calyx. "I just expected something a little more exotic, that's all. I mean, sex involving food is cool, but I think that's fairly tame." She knew that would pique his curiosity. "Yeah? So what do you consider wild sex?" He felt that he had been led to inquire, but he wasn't sure if it was by Scully or by his own unconscious motive. 'Unconscious.' "Lots of things, I guess. Bondage, having sex in public places, group sex..." "WHAT?!" Mulder hated that he was revealing so much by his reaction, but he never thought that Scully would even say 'group sex', let alone participate. 'Go Scully.' "You've done that?" Scully nervously glanced around the room before settling on some miscellaneous object, then nodded. "I thought you had surmised that by now...about Keeni, I mean." "Get outta of here!" He was sitting on the edge of the couch now. "I thought you guys were just teasing about that. I didn't take it seriously." He was truly appalled. And aroused. Keeni was Scully's best friend from college, beautiful, olive skin and long curly black hair. He imagined her and Scully going down on each other, Scully's peachy body pressed against Keeni's dark form, their tongues, their nipples... 'Jesus Fucking Christ.' "Nobody ever takes it seriously...We tell people and they think we're joking." She could tell that he was sincerely shocked, but she really thought that he had guessed it long ago. The way she and Keeni tease each other, and still kiss each other and cuddle. 'He would shit if he knew we still take showers together sometimes.' "It was just a couple of times, with one of our professors...But we have this strange relationship that people don't understand. We don't have sex anymore, but I still think of her as a lover, not really a friend. And it's a mutual thing. I think I will always have a crush on her." "Wow. I have to say Scully, I'm impressed. I will never think of you the same way." 'A new-found respect indeed.' He raised his hips and he settled back into the couch, subtly arranging his erection. It was already pushing at the waistband of his boxers. Scully pretended not to notice how his crotch had filled out in the past few seconds. 'He is really turned on by that.' Even though her head was swimming in numb, Scully felt her whole body tingle as she thought of him imagining her making love with Keeni. "And what way _do_ you think of me now, Mulder?" 'Do tell.' "Just a little more well-rounded than before, that's all." 'And wet. And pink. And tight.' Mulder sighed, then went to the refrigerator for another beer. 'Fuck beer.' He reached for the rum. "Can I bring you another?" he called to her. "No, thanks. I think I've had enough." 'Quite enough, actually.' Sitting down on the floor in front of her, he leaned against the coffee table and stretched out his long legs. "So what's your wildest fantasy?" he asked, tossing back the rum. Scully bit her lips. "Hmmm... there are so many..." Coy girl smiled. "Ahhh. I see," Mulder said, laughing. "We have all night. Hell, we have all weekend...so you can tell me all of them..." "O, ok." Scully was no fool. She recognized a play when she saw one, and Mulder's friskiness amused her greatly. 'They say inebriated, you always tell the truth ...' "Actually, you're in one of my fantasies, Mulder." He swallowed hard and tried not to look stunned. "Just one?" he asked demurely, sipping what was left of his rum. "Well, you have to start somewhere." 'Ha!' "And what are we doing in this fantasy?" Scully pursed her lips and released a long, slow sigh. 'Excellent question, Mulder, my boy.' "It isn't really we. I mean, it _is_ we, but I'm mostly just watching..." She saw that he was about to jump out of his skin. He gestured expansively, to solicit more information. "And..." "We don't touch each other...I just watch you...make yourself come." She looked in his eyes and the room fell silent for a few seconds. When he felt that he could speak intelligibly, Mulder asked softly, timidly, "That excites you?" "Yeah." Silence. "Why?" "Why not? Mulder, you're a beautiful man. Masturbation is perfect sex every time, so what could be more erotic than watching someone beautiful pleasure himself?" She could tell that he was thinking, even brooding, and she wondered if she had made a terrible mistake. Mulder felt a tension in his body that he had never felt before. It was bliss, somewhere between the urge to fuck her hard, and the desire to admire a lovely flower, both pure and delicate. Natural. Still holding her gaze, Mulder sat his glass on the coffee table behind him. His hand poised over his knee a few seconds, then rose to tug down his zipper, revealing dark blue boxers. Scully sat up, balancing herself on her arm, awestruck. Over the waistband of his boxers, Mulder took out his cock, allowing its coral pink head emerge a bit before showing her his length. He watched her stare, eyes fixed on his thumb as it played over the tiny opening of his cock head, spreading the clear liquid pooled there around its crown, down to the tender rim. His fingers grasped at the slippery flesh, concentrating their energy on the sensitive nerve on the underside of the head. Reaching deeper into his jeans, he re-arranged his cock, and pressing his jeans away with both hands, it obtruded unrestrained from his dark curly crotch. He grasped it firmly, and pulling steadily from its base, he worked his way to its tip, slowly, moving his hand up and down, squeezing tighter closer to the head. Finally back at the tip, he covered it with his whole hand, and squeezing it tightly, his head fell back a bit, and he moaned. Only then did Scully look back to his face, and his expression was heavenly. His eyes were closed, his head slightly back. His lips met in that Mulder pout that she had seen a million times, parting into a delicious curl as he sucked air between them. She had never been so aroused in her life, and he hadn't even laid a hand on her. It was beautiful, watching him fuck his fist, the irritated red head of his cock pushing through his graceful, long fingers. He worked the skin just below the head, sliding it up and down over the rim, a purplish-red ring forming about a third of the way down his shaft. Scully loved the way cocks looked after they were used a bit, their tips brilliant red, thriving with blood, etched with blue veins and pink blood vessels. The only way his cock could have been more beautiful was if it was glistening with the juice of her cunt. Her gaze shifted between his face and his fist, their eyes meeting every few seconds. She could tell by his breathing and the ferocity in his clenched hand that he would come soon. He was ready, and so was she. Crouching on the floor, she straddled his right ankle, her heart pounding at the close proximity. Mulder, unsure of her intentions, watched her, her bottom lip captured between her teeth. He was actually more turned on by her fascination, and by the thrill of being watched by _her_ in such an intimate circumstance, than he was by the sensations in his crotch. Her chest was heaving almost as much as his, and he detected a light mist of perspiration over her skin. Drawing close to his climax, his head fell back and he stroked his cock furiously up and down its length. As death came, guttural breaths escaped him, and Scully leaned forward, her open mouth close to his head. Shocked by the foreign heat of her mouth, he looked at his lap as the first spray of cum rocketed between her lips. Applying quick, firm strokes at the rim of his head, he milked every drop of cum from his body into her eager mouth, never once touching her. It was the most glorious sight he had ever seen. In one last attempt to glean all of the pearly cream, he squeezed from the base of his tired erection. Cum dribbled over his fingers. Straining to look to his face from her bowed position, she lovingly licked away the salty residue from his hand. She smiled at him, and he was brought back to reality. Scully was over him, tasting him, so sweet, so intimate. He felt her tongue move lightly over his sticky knuckles. Sucking the cum from his fingers, she pulled each of them into her mouth until they were clean. Then taking his hand in hers, she sat back on her heels and smiled into his brilliant hazel eyes. end. Kelley Harrell Disclaimer: They're not mine and I'm not getting paid. All homage to CC and the X-files writers. Rating: NC17, MSR, No spoilers. Thanks for all of your feedback! This piece is part of a 'fantastic' series of vignettes. It can be read alone, though 'Not the Week' precedes it. (more) Not the Week by S. Kelley Harrell slug@nando.net Friday 24 May 1996 1:44 am Scully's apartment They didn't talk for several minutes. Scully could see him calculating, formulating something in his head. She watched him, gingerly pressing his bottom lip between his teeth. 'Maybe?...' He looked down at his hand, working out the rigid ache in his knuckles. "Actually, I do have a fantasy wilder than the food one..." he began. Scully waited for him to finish. He was being awfully timid, considering he had just masturbated in front of her. He was being awfully shy in general, in light of the fact that he was Mr. Pornography. She didn't want to ruin the flow of things by nagging him, but she wasn't in a very patient mood. She couldn't help it that she was ridiculously randy, either. "Tell me what it is, Mulder..." She leaned back against the couch, still straddling his ankle. 'I can handle it.' Mulder was completely sated, so much so that he didn't even think to tuck his tired sex back into his boxers. Generally, he was a timely man, but he wasn't Superman. It was pointless to tell her of the thong fantasy now. That would have to come later. Now he would focus on his fantasy about just her. "I want you to go put on that wine-colored suit, the one that's really sharp. Wear the necklace, wear everything that you would usually wear to work, everything except panties..." His voice was low and smooth, his instructions clear and precise, and she absorbed every word. 'Put some thought into this one, eh?' It pleased her greatly. 'But what is he _not_ telling me?' Scully spoke, and a schoolgirl's voice came out. "You have to tell me the rest first." "When you're dressed, come back, and I'll tell you the rest." He cocked his head and gave her that, fabulous smile, except it was warmer than usual, sweeter. Reasonably reassured, Scully offered her own trademark smile. She knew from his authoritative tone that he wasn't playing around. 'This is going to be good. If he said 'go get the fern, put it on your head and twirl around, I would do it.' Her heart raced as she nodded, then headed down the hallway. And even though her head spun opposite the rotation of the room, she dressed in record time. 'What am I doing?' Through his alcoholic haze, Mulder looked around the apartment, taking in concrete details to confirm to himself that this was really happening. Weekend binge refuse. Badges and weaponry heaped on the butler's table. Scully scent. Exposed penis. It was happening. Mulder was going to act out the very first fantasy he had ever had involving Dr. Dana Scully. Shortly after she walked into his basement with her collected, aloof exterior, he began to expend a lot of energy, contemplating what it would take to undo that cool M.D. facade. He eventually constructed a quite fulfilling fantasy. Scully quickly laid the prescribed apparel out on her bed. She already wore the necklace. So, first she pulled on cream colored thigh highs, then donned an ivory slip. Over that she pulled on a silk ivory blouse, which she tucked into her form fitting wine-colored skirt. She giggled as she buttoned the tiny buttons of the jacket, dexterity lacking. She shoved her feet into the matching wine pumps-- not too frivolous, not too sensible. Glancing in the full length mirror on her way out of the bedroom, she almost headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Entering the living room, she found him still seated on the floor in front of the coffee table. For a split second, she contemplated turning right around and going back to her room, to put an end to what could be a really bad joke. But as soon as she entered the room, he turned to face her. 'Shit.' She pulled her shoulders back and tossed her hair, then strode toward him. 'Perfect.' "Come here," he said, directing her over him, feet planted on the outside of his knees. His hands wrapped around her gauzy ankles. "What do you want, Mulder?" Her voice was indifferent, distant. Mulder shivered at the icy sound of her. Looking to her, he said, "I want you, wild, completely uninhibited. I want to make you come until you're so weak and tired, you're begging me to stop." Scully breathed after she realized she had been holding her breath. His expression was absolutely evil. 'Gonna be a long weekend.' "Well, let's not keep you waiting," she said. Then just like in his fantasy, Mulder's hands crept up the back of her nylon-clad thighs, tarrying when he reached the warm flesh of her hips. He squeezed her buttocks in his hands, then lightly brushed his fingers back and forth over her outer labia. He moved slowly, nimbly over the bare skin of her mons, in smooth, feather- light caresses. Scully trembled as his fingers parted her, playing gently over her opening, moving straight to her clit. Catching it between his thumb and forefinger, he rubbed the tiny hood in a smooth and steady rhythm. She immediately swooned, locking her knees. Mulder delighted in the sight of his hand disappearing under the rough material and the silky slip, Scully's head back, moaning, nails digging through her skirt into her thighs. His other hand stole up her outer thigh, hiking her skirt up so that her sweet sex was eye level, undaunted. She looked down at him, as he looked to her, inserting two fingers into her, then garishly gesturing with them for her to step forward. When she did, he covered the nub with his mouth. He stroked the secret spot within her, all the while sucking and licking, holding her at bay. He reveled in the taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her soft skin rubbing against his well-past five o'clock shadow, the woody scent of her suit, and Agent Scully's sweet soft whimpering. Mulder's quickened strokes and the addition of a third finger brought her to a shuddering, wet orgasm, liquid pooling in his palm. Her body shook furiously, rocking back, then catching herself, hands braced on his shoulders. "I can't stand up, Mulder, I can't..." Allowing her to squat over his lap, his agile fingers urged her to another orgasm, and another. Her head rested on his shoulder, giving him an excellent vantage point to observe her flushed, fervid visage. The glint of that holy relic around her neck danced in and out of his gaze as she writhed over him. His senses were wildly alert. Mulder savored the moment--Scully, with her refined attire and sophisticated mien, madly fucked his hand, rocking her hips with the rhythm of his fingers. His hard sex pushed at her opening as she shuddered into another climax. He continued plying her, rubbing his cock on her receptive orifice, directing her every movement and sound by the bit of flesh between his fingers. Her mind was screaming for him to stop, but her mouth said "Fuck me, Mulder. Do it now." Contemplating this fictional manifestation, he concluded that reality sometimes was sweeter than fantasy. Mulder hushed her and said, "I will. I'll do anything you want me to, if you'll do one more fantasy for me..." "Mmm," Scully said, trying hard to catch her breath, "I like your fantasies." end. >From slug@nando.net Tue Oct 22 19:43:34 1996 Disclaimer: They're not mine and I'm not getting paid. All homage to CC and the X-files writers. Rating: NC17, MSR, No spoilers. Thanks for all of your feedback! Sorry it took me so long to finish this piece. The next one won't take as long. This piece is part of a 'fantastic' series of vignettes. It can be read alone, though 'Not the Week', and (more) Not the Week precede it. (later) Not the Week by S. Kelley Harrell slug@nando.net Saturday 25 May 1996 3:00 am Scully's apartment Scully's ecstatic expression faded, though her eyes remained vibrant as she sat back on her heels before him, recovering. Mulder was concerned. "Are you _sure_ ?" he asked her. 'I've finally done it. After everything we've been through, I've finally managed to leave her speechless.' He felt quite self-conscious. "I'll do it, Mulder." She rushed to soothe his obvious discomfort. "I just have never done it quite like that before..." Relief crept over him. He was glad that she was willing. If they backed out now, he would never be able to face her Monday. "Well, I never did it like that either, not so formally anyway. I just always wanted to do it with you...You can do it, Scully. If I didn't think you could, I wouldn't ask." "I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me what you want, and I want to give it to you." Her voice was soft and her expression angelic. 'Ok, now what?' Mulder shifted nervously. They were silent a few seconds, then Scully spoke. "Shall we begin?" They exchanged an affirmative glance, then Scully rose. She hurried to her bedroom, undressing almost as quickly as she had dressed for the previous rendezvous. She marveled at how relaxed she was, perhaps from the alcohol, the endorphins. Or maybe it was simply Mulder who put her in this state. "It's Mulder," she said to her reflection in the mirror. Scully sprayed two mists of Calyx in front of her, then walked into the fog, feeling the cool spray envelop her body. She emerged from the bedroom to find Mulder standing naked in her livingroom, holding a thin leather belt. She recognized it as the one he wore casually. 'Guess I know why it's his favorite now.' His body was beautiful, long and delicately muscled, and his cock stood rigid before him. Scully noticed that it wasn't as firm as it had been minutes before, but she had complete faith that it would resume its pose quickly. Mulder looked at her undaunted, taking in her beautiful form. She past him, walking into the kitchen, and he breathed her sweet aroma. Taking a chair from the kitchen, she placed it in the center of the livingroom floor. She left the room, returning seconds later with two of his emergency ties from his drawer in her bedroom, and the tie that he had worn to work that morning. She kicked his jeans and shirt out of the way and took the belt from him. "Sit down." Her voice was stern, yet smooth. The belt fell at her feet. Mulder was both pleased and disturbed that she was thinking his scenario through so carefully. He sat in the chair, its glossy wood chilling him. She dropped the ties in his lap, their silky coolness floating over him. Feet planted outside his knees, she drew one of the ties behind his back and said, "Give me your hands." She leaned in to secure his hands behind him, her breasts brushing against his face. Mulder sucked at the tiny nipples while she weaved the tie through the slats of the chair, then fastened his hands together. She knelt in front of him, his cock rising toward her. Ignoring him, she tied his ankles to the back legs of the chair, forcing him to jut forward and spread his legs wide. Reaching between his thighs, she tucked his scrotum beneath him, then ran her finger up his now ready shaft. Taking the belt, Scully placed the buckle in her palm and wound the thin strap around her hand. "Tell me what you want, Mulder," she said. Anxious, she feared that she would be too heavy-handed and hurt him. "Do my thighs first," his voice barely above a whisper. Every nerve in his body was awake with anticipation, to the point that he was already straining against his bindings, his feet firmly planted in the rug, his bottom pressing hard into the chair. Nimbly she slapped at his thighs, keeping in mind the few times that she had received such treatment. Steadying herself, she silently chanted the mantra, 'Light and quick to start with, then slower, heavier, harder...' Slowly she worked her way up his thighs and inner thighs, Mulder's breathing becoming labored and erratic. One quick swipe at his swollen tip elicited a resounding 'O' from his lips. Scully whipped him, growing more harsh with each slap, occasionally spiking the underside of his organ, stinging the delicate nerve there. His cock was blood red all the way down to his balls, his entire crotch fevered and irritated. She slapped at him over and over, the strap intermittently licking at his nipples and stomach. In each hiatus that his skin did not know the strap, Mulder was reminded just how sensitive the body could be. And each time the strap lashed at him, he lost his train of thought and slipped closer to delirium. Soon there was no real, no cerebral, only loud groans emanating from his chest, a steady, hot burn searing through his groin and middle, and the heavenly aroma of the woman punishing him. Scully feared that he would lose consciousness. She had watched him, studied his reactions to every lash. But now it was as if he had just ceased to be. His moans had become silent, represented only by grimaces and an open mouth, his head resting back. He was completely, sublimely passive. 'Time to bring him back.' Continuing the assault, she slowly approached him, not wanting to break her rhythm. When she was close enough, Scully dropped the belt and knelt before him, taking his moist tip into her mouth. Mulder's head jerked forward, and he peered down at his lap. He groaned watching her suck him, thrusting his frustrated hips toward her, but she would take no more than the head into her mouth. She nursed on him while her hands untied his legs. When his legs were freed, she stood over him and sat on his cock, sealing its base to her. He sucked at her lips as she moaned into his mouth, initiating their first kiss. He strained against the ties on his hands as Scully rocked her bottom against him, sometimes freeing him completely, then roughly sitting on him again. She rode him for a while, locking her feet in the legs of the chair, delighting in his helpless writhing. Slowly she freed his hands, which immediately grabbed her hips and pushed her down as he lifted his buttocks off of the chair, surging deeper within her. Mulder stood, her ankles locked around his hips. He slid out of her and said, "Tell me how you like it, Scully. I want to do it the way you like it." Releasing him, she raised up on her tip toes, and wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him, fully, lovingly. She turned her back to him and drew his arms around her, rubbing her buttocks on his groin. Dropping to her hands and knees, she pulled him behind her. Mulder hesitated a few seconds, then entered her slowly, taking his time to explore the new contours of her body, crevices that had not been accessible to him before. "Tell me how," he said, barely moving, applying constant pressure to her swollen womb. Her moans grew louder as he probed the secret spot within her, the constant friction against his sensitive tip maddening him. He leaned close to her, his hands caressing her breasts, his chest melded to her back. Slow and soft came her words, "Just like that." She moved with him, one hand between her thighs, rubbing with their perfect rhythm. Her sex pulsed around Mulder, and he savored the sensation, the moment, and seconds later he spilled hot into her. Turning Scully so that she faced him, he touched her cheek. "I meant what I said before, Scully. That was it for me. I'll do whatever you want me to, now, whenever, anytime." Mulder whispered. She narrowed her eyes, studying him, grappling with the surrealistic moment. 'This is just too good.' "Let's get some sleep first," came her breathy reply, as she led him to the bedroom. end. -SKH-