Title: Sex on the Beach
Author: Lovesfox
E-mail: Lovesfox@rogers.com
Rating: NC-17 (some bad language)
Category: MSR, Smut, Whispers of X challenge fic
Spoilers: None that I can think of
Summary: A night out for Mulder and Scully
Archive: If you'd like, but please let me know, and keep
all headers attached
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully aren't mine - they belong to
Chris Carter and company.
Author's Notes: I have become addicted to challenge fics, this
is in response to the Whispers of X True Blue
Challenge for August 2001
The names of drinks contained in this story are
actual shooters and cocktails I found on the Net.
As far as I know, there is no such club in
Annapolis, but Sandy Point State Park is real,
though I have never been there.
Thanks: Traci and Nancy, for beta and encouragement.
Elements:
-A shelf that falls down
-Sex on the beach
-A "Looney Tunes" coffee mug
-An unexpected call
-A porn magazine entitled "Do me with it BIG BOY"
that DOESN'T belong to Mulder
-A character named "Jamie"
-Black ribbon
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sex on the Beach
by Lovesfox
Scully's Apartment
Friday, 7:00 p.m.
Scully smoothed her fingers through her hair one last time
as she stared into her dresser mirror, and gave herself a
critical once-over. Not bad, if she did think so herself.
Black, microfiber flat front pants, a low, square-necked,
button-down sweater that was just this side of clingy, the
dark sage green color contrasting wonderfully with the blue
of her eyes, and low-heeled black boots. Small gold studs
in her ears, a gold watch, and her cross were her only
accessories. Well, that were visible, anyway.
Her smile was slightly wicked as she imagined Mulder's
expression and reaction when he saw what was *beneath* her
clothing. She was not wearing a bra because of the top part
of the lingerie outfit she had donned after her quick shower
- a black lycra and silk camisole with lacy cups for her
breasts, diligently held together by a pretty silk black
ribbon. The straps of the camisole were also black ribbon,
and a few strategic tugs on those ribbons, and the camisole
was history. Then there were the matching lycra panties -
Mulder absolutely loved when she wore a thong.
Mulder had said dress casual when he had arrived, indicating
his own attire with a wave of one hand. He had then leered
exaggeratedly, trying to look down the front of her loosely
belted silk robe, and said, "Or we could just stay here and
get naked."
She had declined. One, because she was eager to see what he
had in store for them. And two, because she knew they would
be getting naked as soon as they returned home. She could
wait, anticipation was often half the turn-on for her.
Feeling pleased with his reaction to her in the robe, and
to tease him a little, she had thrown in a little extra hip
sway for his benefit as she had walked away.
He had wolf-whistled in appreciation.
Well, she was ready to go now, she decided, after one more
look at her hair and makeup, and turned away from the mirror
to join Mulder. Informal and comfortable, but not so under-
dressed she couldn't walk into a bar or restaurant, seeing
as she had no idea of their destination.
They had started having 'date' nights at least twice a week
unless a case interfered, just over two months ago, not long
after they had started sleeping together. They alternated
whom would choose what they would do, or where they would go,
often letting the 'date' be a surprise for the other.
As she was exiting her bedroom door, she heard Mulder's semi-
impatient bellow from the living room.
"Scully, you ready yet?"
Deciding not to reply, she moved swiftly and silently down
the hall, hoping to catch him in the act - which was with
his feet on the coffee table.
And she did.
He was reclined on her couch, still in his black leather
jacket, with his head resting on the back of the sofa, and
his jean-clad legs were crossed negligently, booted feet
propped on the unprotected wood surface of her table. Her
recently refinished table. The one that had been scratched
and abused by various and sundry materials, including an
assortment of footwear a la Mulder.
No matter how sexy he looked in black leather and black
Levi's, she was not letting him off the hook this time. He
had been warned twice before she had headed to her bedroom
to finish getting ready, and he had ignored her. Infuriating
man.
A suitable penance would have to be arranged.
Leaning over the back of the couch, she purred into his ear,
"I'm ready, lover."
And watched as his eyes popped open and he bolted to his feet,
swinging around to stare at her, his chest rising and falling
rapidly. "Scully!" he exclaimed, one hand going up to rub
at his ear, something he did when he was nervous. Or knew
he'd been caught.
"Yes, Mulder?" Scully said, straight-faced. Let's see what
he tried.
"I...uh...I dozed off there, didn't hear you coming."
"I noticed," she told him. "Just like I noticed those big
boots of yours on my coffee table." She held up one hand
when he opened his mouth, forestalling any excuse he might
offer. "You owe me, buddy, and I won't tell you when I'm
going to collect, either." She turned to look for her own
leather jacket, and spied it on the arm of the wing chair.
Crossing to the chair, she reached out for it, just as Mulder
did the same.
His arm bumped hers just as she had picked it up, and the
jacket fell to the floor with a soft plop. She bent over to
retrieve it, and so did he.
Mulder's noisy inhalation had her pausing, and she glanced up
to see his eyes concentrated on her chest, to where her sweater
had gaped open. This was due to the fact she had undone an
extra button, of course. She looked down herself, to see that
the lacy edge of her camisole was visible, as was a tiny bit
of the ribbon.
Scully contained her smile and straightened. He remained in an
awkward half-crouch, still staring at her, though his eyes were
now level with her waist. "Thank-you, Mulder," she said softly,
and he blinked in obvious surprise.
A second later he bent down and picked up her jacket. Upon
rising, he opened it and held it out for her gallantly.
Scully slid her arms into the sleeves one by one, making sure
her ass brushed against Mulder as she did so. Then she turned
and rose on tiptoe to press a lipsticked kiss to his cheek.
"Thank-you," she repeated.
Once flat on her feet again, she perused the lip print on his
skin for a moment, before reaching up to wipe it off. Seeing
it had given her an idea for later - kiss after kiss all over
his body, in dark red lipstick.
"All set?" he asked then, his voice slightly husky.
Before she could reply, a muted ringing could be heard. Her
gaze automatically flicked to her telephone, despite the fact
its ring was loud and often strident. But it was not her house
phone, and it was definitely not her cell phone. That had been
turned off and left in her bedroom, as was their norm on date
night.
Mulder reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, sending
her a sheepish look. "I forgot," he mumbled, and pulled his
cell out. Hitting send, he spoke into the tiny mouth piece.
"Mulder."
His face registered surprise at whomever was on the other end.
"Frohike?" he said next. "Where the hell are you, man?"
Pacing was next. Then, "I thought you guys all went away
for the weekend."
Another pause. "Oh, sorry to hear that, man."
He shot her a look of apology, to which she responded with a
'hurry up' motion. "Uh...well, I have plans, Frohike."
Turning, he presented her with his back, and hunched his
shoulders up around his ears, walking away from her. His
voice lowered, but she was still able to make the words out.
"Yeah, with Scully."
He told the Gunmen? Oh, God. Scully brought her hand up to
her forehead and rubbed. She hadn't seen the guys for at
least a month, and was trying to remember how they had behaved
the last time she had been there. Had Frohike been just a
little bit down? Now that she thought about it, he hadn't
been as 'friendly' as he usually was, and his leers had been
non-existent. Things would be different between them now, she
knew. And oddly enough, that fact caused a twinge of sadness.
Mulder came back towards her, his gaze not yet meeting hers.
"Yeah, okay. See you in a few, man." That said, he pulled
the phone from his ear, pressed end, and tucked his phone away.
Finally, he lifted his eyes. "That was Frohike," he said,
unnecessarily. "I wasn't expecting any of the Gunmen to call.
Byers told me on Thursday that they were leaving that night
for some convention in Nevada. But Frohike got sick, he didn't
go."
Scully nodded agreeably. It wasn't Mulder's fault that Frohike
was sick. Although it was his fault for not leaving his cell
phone at home. Not that she'd point that fact out, she didn't
want to be a bitch. "So what did Frohike want, Mulder?"
"Well, believe it or not, but he has tickets to that new club
in Annapolis. The one we've been hearing all those rave reviews
about?"
"And...?" she asked, raising one eyebrow in a gesture that would
hopefully convince him to move the story along.
"And...he offered them to us," Mulder related. "So, I told him
yes. Is that okay with you?"
Clubbing with Mulder. Different, and interesting. Clubbing,
period. Something she hadn't done in...years. Would she still
know how to act, what to do?
Live a little, her wild side whispered.
"Sounds good," she told him, and watched the grin spread across
his face.
"Let's go see Frohike, then."
***
Lone Gunmen Headquarters
Friday, 7:30 p.m.
Scully watched Mulder as they waited for Frohike to unlock the
series of bolts, chains and locks that kept the riff-raff out.
Or was that kept the riff-raff in?
He had an amused look on his face, and was rocking just slightly
on the balls of his feet. His hands were tucked into the front
pocket of his Levi's, and she was tempted to take a step back
so she could stare at his ass, regardless of whether he would
catch her at it or not. It was all right to do that now, instead
of trying to catch glimpses or be discreet, as she had before
they had become a couple.
The final lock slid across with a noisy bang, and then the heavy
door was being pulled open.
To reveal Frohike, in all his sick glory. His hair, normally
slicked back, was limp and flopping in his face, and he was pale
and tired-looking. He also wore the rattiest, grungiest, terry-
cloth bathrobe Scully had ever seen. And it came to only mid-
thigh on him. Beneath its frayed hem were winter pale, knobby
knees, calf-high black socks, and slip-on slippers in an
undistinguishable color. Through the opened vee of the robe,
which was thankfully belted, a once white tee-shirt could be
seen.
Then her eyes focused on the item in his hand. A coffee mug,
which did not seem to contain coffee from the color of the
liquid. That was not so unusual. What surprised her was the
picture on the mug. Tweety Bird. Frohike liked the Looney
Tunes?
A picture filled her head. The three Gunmen, dressed in pajamas
and robes, sitting on their dilapidated couch, watching cartoons.
Scully brought her hand up to her mouth, but a muffled snort
escaped.
At the sound, Frohike jumped a little, and the magazine that had
been rolled up and tucked under his other arm fell to the floor
with a splat.
Mulder had stepped into the room just as it fell, and he didn't
seem to notice the magazine. Frohike looked stunned, so Scully
bent down easily to pick it up for him. It had landed cover-side
up, and the lurid picture on its glossy surface immediately caught
her eye. A voluptuous, scantily clad, red-head in a rather
naughty pose, had her index finger in her mouth, her very red
lips pursed around it.
Scully rolled her eyes, shook her head, and reached out for it,
just as Frohike's foot came down on top of it, narrowly missing
her fingers. "Ah, that's okay, Age...ah, Scully," he said.
"I've got it."
But if he had been trying to hide the magazine's title, he had
been too late. 'Do me with it BIG BOY' was emblazoned across
the top, in dark black, bold lettering.
She was tempted to say, 'And you can keep it', but she held her
tongue, standing up once more. Looking around, she saw Mulder
a couple of feet away, watching her, his eyes hooded. She moved
to join in, hoping Frohike could compose himself quickly.
He did, joining them a moment later. Mulder quirked an eyebrow
at the mug still in Frohike's hand. "Nice mug," he commented,
deadpan.
"Ah...it was a gift," Frohike said, defensively. "From my
niece." The magazine had mysteriously disappeared. "I drink
my...." he hesitated, looking down into the mug. "Medicine,"
he then stated baldly.
Scully could see the laughter in Mulder's eyes, but he kept the
humor from showing on his face. "Medicine," he agreed. She
too managed not to smile.
"So, Hicke, what about those tickets?" Mulder asked then.
The little man blinked owlishly behind the thick lenses of his
glasses, before comprehension dawned. "Oh, the tickets," he
mumbled. "Yeah, hang on a sec. Got'em right here."
Scully cringed when he dug into one of the large pockets of his
robe. For his action had caused the belt to loosen, and the
material began to part across his belly. She quickly turned to
one side, as if studying the books stuffed on the shelving unit
to her left, just in case the robe fell all the way open. She
had no curiosity whatsoever as to what else Frohike might or
might not be wearing underneath it.
There was a rustling sound, followed by the crinkling noises of
what could be the passing of an envelope. Mulder then asked,
"So how did you come by these, man? I heard this place is
harder to get into than Fort Knox."
Scully turned back in time to see Mulder stuff a tattered-looking
envelope into the inner pocket of his jacket, where he kept his
cell phone. She flicked a careful glance at Frohike, and was
relieved to note that the tie of his robe had been refastened.
"Ahhhh, my niece's boyfriend's a bouncer there, he can get them
no problem," Frohike replied then, his voice hoarser than it had
been. He made a snorting/snuffling sound, rubbing at his nose,
before continuing. "He's working the front door tonight. Name's
Ricky. Big guy, bald as a cue ball, stud in his left ear. You
can't miss him. You go to him, tell him Uncle Fro sent ya."
Uncle Fro then let out a wracking cough that had them both backing
away.
"Well, thanks, man," Mulder said. "We'll get going so you can
go back to bed and do...whatever you were doing."
Was there a hint of amusement in his voice? Maybe Mulder hadn't
missed the magazine after all. Scully shook her head slightly.
She should have remembered little got by him.
Clearing her throat, she added her thanks. "Yes, thank-you,
Frohike. It was very kind of you to give us these tickets. I
hope you're feeling better soon. Make sure to drink your
medicine." She was proud of herself for not putting any inflection
on the word 'medicine'.
Frohike nodded, then bent over slightly, coughing into his fist.
"Thanks."
Scully glanced at Mulder, and the two of them hurried to the door.
When they had entered, Frohike had only shot one of the bolts home,
and Mulder opened the door easily, gesturing for Scully to precede
him. Once he had followed her, pulling the door shut behind him,
they heard the sound of all the locks being re-engaged.
Mulder laughed then and commented, "Poor, Fro." He took Scully's
elbow and guided her down the stairs and towards his car. "Let's
go par-tay, Scully!"
This was going to be interesting.
***
Whispers
Friday, 8:40 p.m.
Traffic was its usual Friday-night snarl, and it took them just
under an hour to get to Annapolis. Parking was at a premium any
time of the day, and they had to circle the block twice before
they found a spot.
As they neared the club, they could see a crowd of gawkers and
want-to-be club-goers, milling out front in the hopes of gaining
entrance.
Scully felt very conspicuous as she and Mulder approached the
entrance, the front of the sidewalk blocked off by red velvet
rope. There were many eyes on them, including those of the
bouncer at the door.
Scully couldn't help staring at him. If this was Ricky, 'big'
did not do him justice. Huge was more apt. He was easily six
foot five, with enormously broad shoulders, barely encased in
a white silk shirt that managed to look just right on him, his
bald head shining in the lights from the club. Dress pants and
black loafers completed his outfit. His arms were crossed over
his chest, biceps and triceps bulging, and his expression was
intimidating.
Mulder's hand tightened slightly on her elbow as he tugged her
gently forward. His free hand reached inside his pocket and
retrieved the tickets Frohike had given them, the envelope
discarded in a garbage bin near the car. He extended them
towards Ricky, whose expression relaxed minutely as he accepted
them. "Uncle Fro sent us," Mulder said, repeating Frohike's
instructions.
A huge grin cracked the stern facade, and Ricky unclasped his
arms to clap Mulder on one arm, nearly sending him flying.
"You're Mulder, right?" Ricky asked in a surprisingly gentle
and melodious voice. "Nice to meet ya." He then stuck his very
large paw out towards Mulder, who took it in his hand and shook
gamely.
Scully saw the wince that barely flickered over Mulder's lips,
and smothered the laugh that threatened to escape.
Ricky then turned to her, still smiling, and she reluctantly
held her hand out, worried he would crush her with his grip.
"Scully, right?" he said. "Uncle Fro's talked lots about you."
He lifted her hand up in his, and surprised the hell out of her
by kissing the back, instead of shaking it. "Pleased to meet
ya," he told her, then released her hand. "You two go right on
in, and have a great time."
Mulder and she both smiled and thanked him, then walked through
the opening in the rope the bouncer had provided. Three wide,
flat cement steps covered in a red carpet runner led up to the
double doors, one of which was propped open, letting out the
noise from inside.
They walked in, where they were greeted by an elegantly dressed
young woman, wearing a black cocktail dress and heels, her blonde
hair done up in a chignon.
Scully felt extremely under-dressed standing beside her, and very
self-conscious. Her first instinct was to grab Mulder's hand
and leave, until a group of men and women passed by, similarly
clothed in either jeans or casual pants. It seemed there really
wasn't a particular dress code, and she relaxed, her head moving
to take in the large club.
There was a small, dimly-lit lounge to the left, with round,
little tables and funky chairs, most of them filled, and to the
right was a long hallway that led to the cloakroom and washrooms,
as per the sign on one wall.
Straight ahead there was a long, low-stepped staircase that
flared out at the bottom, leading to tall, round cocktail tables
and stools, which surrounded the very packed dance floor. The
actual bar ran along the entire wall to the left of the dance
floor.
Hearing people entering behind them, they moved forward slowly,
descending the stairs, Mulder supporting her elbow. By silent,
mutual agreement, they headed towards the bar. The tables rimming
the dance floor all appeared to be taken, anyway.
They were lucky - as they neared the bar, a couple vacated their
places. Still holding her elbow, Mulder assisted her onto the far
stool, before taking his own. They then waited for service.
The bar was as busy as the rest of the club, the two women behind
it moving quickly, serving and making drinks with an easy rhythm
that spoke of long practice.
Scully turned her stool around, and propped her elbows on the bar
behind her, to people watch. This was something she did
everywhere she went, whether it was in an official FBI capacity
or not.
Mulder's arm was a pleasurable warmth along hers as he leaned
into her, still facing the bar. Almost as if he were staking his
claim.
Which was entirely possible. She had noticed the admiring male
glances thrown her way, and felt immensely flattered. And the wink
with accompanying come-hither look tossed at her by a rather good-
looking man as they had made their way to the bar. It was doubtful
Mulder had missed them either.
Though he had most likely been totally unaware of the many looks
and leers he himself had received from women, young and old. And
a pair of men, she thought to herself with a smirk. While she
wouldn't be as blatant as Mulder in showing the world that he
was hers, she would keep her eye out for anyone attempting to do
more than look at him.
"Hey, Scully," Mulder whispered into her ear, his lips just
brushing her lobe.
She shivered slightly and turned her head to meet his eyes, and
found his mouth just millimeters from hers. "Yeah?" she said,
her voice a little husky. His cologne, a gift from her, was
teasing her senses, and she was tempted to lean in and sample
those lips. To nibble on the plump lower one.
"Look at the names of the drinks on that sign," he said, and
leaned back slightly, nodding with his chin at the wall behind
the bar.
Scully sighed at the loss of an opportunity, and spun her stool
back around. One of his elbows was propped on the bar, and he
used that hand to point her in the right direction, his other
resting easily on her thigh.
The sign he was indicating was similar in appearance to a
chalkboard one might see at a deli or food bar, where the lunch
specials or soup of the day were chalked in, framed in a dark
wood. But the words written on it seemed to be permanent.
Her eyes widened slightly as she read the names of the drinks.
1-900-FUCK-ME UP
A Piece of Ass
Absolut Sex
Bend Me Over
Between the Sheets
Blow Job
Climax
Deep Throat
Jack Off
Orgasm
Sex with an Alligator
Sit on my Face
Slippery Knob
Slow Comfortable Screw
Spoiled Wench
Tie Me to the Bedpost
Before she could reply, and to be honest, she really couldn't
think of anything to say, there was a voice from behind them,
perkily saying, "Would you like a shooter?"
God, she hadn't done shooters in...she was ashamed to admit she
couldn't remember the last time she had done them. Scully spun
her stool around yet again, and saw a bubbly, well-endowed woman
with a tray of shooters held in front of her, hanging from a
strap around her neck.
Mulder had turned as well, and he leaned towards the woman,
asking, "What have you got?"
"Hi, there," she said, rather coyly, her eyes flicking up and
down his lean body. She then seemed to become aware of Scully,
who had wrapped her hand around Mulder's biceps.
Possessive much? Not her, uh-uh.
"Oh!" shooter girl exclaimed, her confusion and disappointment
obvious even with just that one sound. Pasting a smile on her
face, she began her spiel. "Well, I've got Hard Dick," and here
she used her free hand, the other supporting the tray from
beneath, to indicate several long, slender test tubes sitting
in rounded holes in the box.
Mulder bent his head and once again touched his lips to her ear.
"You don't need a Hard Dick, Scully, I've already taken care of
that one."
She was tempted to whisper back, 'If it were Big Hard Dick,
definitely', but she refrained.
The shooter girl continued talking, not having heard his little
quip, "Nymphomaniac, Screaming Orgasm and Sex on the Beach." Her
hand gestured at each one as she said the name.
"Hmmmm," Mulder murmured. "Screaming Orgasm. I think I take
care of you in that department..."
Oh, God did he ever. Scully fought another shiver, feeling her
cheeks reddening, and quickly said, "I'll have a Sex on the
Beach." She didn't want to hear what he'd say for Nymphomaniac.
"Sure thing," said the shooter girl. She selected one of the test
tubes and handed it to Scully, quoting the price as she did.
Scully took it from her and held it in her fingers as Mulder
reached into his pocket for his wallet. Pulling out a bill, he
handed it to the shooter girl with a grin, and said, "Keep the
change."
"Mmmmm...thanks," she purred hopefully, and when he made no
further move to speak to her, slowly turned and walked away,
hips swiveling.
Mulder was such a flirt - sometimes unconsciously, other times
deliberately.
"You didn't want a shooter?" Scully asked, the poking she gave
his ribs her only reaction, waiting for him to take his eyes off
the girl's retreating ass.
"Ah...no," he said, looking at her finally, a teasing smile on
his lips. "I just want a beer." He then jutted his chin at her
shooter. "Go ahead, don't wait for me."
Scully gamely brought the test tube to her mouth, pursed it
around the glass and tilted her head back, tipping the test tube
at the same time in one quick, smooth motion. The sweet
concoction slid along her throat easily, and she swallowed it
down without hesitation. Straightening up, she licked the
residue off her lips and met Mulder's gaze triumphantly.
He looked impressed. "Oooh, Scully, another hidden talent of
yours," was his sassy remark.
They were interrupted then by the arrival of the bartender,
although when they looked, it was not one of the two women they
had seen when they had first sat down. "Hey, there. What can
I get for you?" said a smoky female voice.
The woman was dressed differently than the other two bartenders,
both of whom were wearing white shirts and black pants with their
hair back in neat ponytails. Instead, she wore an electric blue
silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up and several buttons undone
to reveal a generous amount of cleavage, and her chestnut hair
was long and loose about her shoulders. When she saw she had
their attention, she added, "I'm Jamie. The owner of Whispers."
Scully could see Mulder was impressed. Hell, *she* was impressed.
The owner of the club didn't look to be any older than her mid to
late-twenties, and looked like she could easily belong on a
model's catwalk.
"Nice place," Mulder commented, smiling the smile he saved for
women who caught his eye.
"Thanks," she said simply, crisply. "I like it. So, what can
I get for you?"
"I'll have a Guiness," Mulder replied, then turned his head to
the side slightly. "Scully, do you want anything?"
Actually, she wouldn't mind another Sex on the Beach, but the
shooter girl was no where in sight. "Can I get a shooter?" she
asked. At Jamie's smiling nod, she said, "A Sex on the Beach,
please."
"One Guiness, one Sex on the Beach, coming right up," Jamie said,
and spun around to fill the order.
In what couldn't have been much more than a minute, she was back,
Mulder's beer and a frosted mug, and Scully's shooter, held easily
in her fingers. She smoothly placed the beer and glass in front
of Mulder, a coaster having mysteriously appeared, and handed the
little tube to Scully. The price was stated pleasantly.
While Mulder fished money from his wallet again, he said, "That
sign on the wall there caught my eye." He pointed it out with
his chin, and Jamie turned to glance at it, turning back with a
smile, her eyebrow quirked as she waited for him to continue.
"That's quite a theme you've got going there."
Jamie winked. "What can I say? I like sex...y drinks." She
smiled and accepted the bill he had proffered with another 'keep
the change'. "Enjoy," she said then, and moved off to help
someone else.
"Flirt much?" Scully said, leaning into him so that her breast
pressed into his upper arm, while her left hand encircled his
waist.
"Me?" he said, pausing in the middle of pouring his beer into
his glass. His bicep flexed just slightly. "I don't flirt."
Scully rolled her eyes and said teasingly, "Sure, fine, whatever."
Her hand slid away from his waist, fingers pinching lightly as
they left, and she prepared to down her shooter.
She was a little disappointed he hadn't reacted to the press of
her breast on his arm beyond a twitch. Once when she had done
the same thing, he had glanced around the movie theatre line-up
they were in, and using his body as cover, he had slipped his
hand under her jacket and cupped her breast, thumb rubbing her
nipple teasingly. By unspoken agreement, they had skipped the
movie and raced back to his place.
Scully realized then that Mulder was paying his penance for
being caught with his boots on her coffee table. He knew how
she loved to be teased - that it was as much a turn-on as
waiting was for her - so he was going to play with her for a
while.
This time her shiver was one of delight.
Tilting her head back, she saw Mulder turning to face her out
of the corner of her eye. With a quick snap of her wrist, the
liquid was in her mouth and sliding down her throat. Lowering
both her chin, and her hand with the tube, she was surprised
when Mulder leaned in very close and his tongue thoroughly
licked her lips, cleaning away any traces of the shooter.
He pulled away slowly. "Mmmmm," he said. "Sex on the beach
with Scully."
God. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and he hadn't even
kissed her really. Then his sentence registered, and her mind
was filled with a picture of them rolling in the sand and surf
in a scene reminiscent of the movie 'From Here to Eternity' with
Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr. Her breathing became labored,
and she had to contain herself from throwing herself onto his
lap. And she was very hot all of a sudden.
After laying the empty test tube on the bar, she leaned over
and grabbed his beer, lifting it to her lips and gulping.
When she had returned his mug to the counter, she saw Mulder
regarding her with a smug, amused look. She threw him a pout,
knowing of his fascination with her lips, and shrugged. "I
was thirsty."
"I gathered that," he returned. After taking a sip of his beer,
he spoke again. "So Scully, tell me. Your choice in shooters
had me thinking. Have you ever had real sex on a beach?"
As a matter of fact, she had. A long time ago, of course, with
Jack. The cabin they had often stayed at had been near a lake,
with a semi-private beach. But at the hour of night they had
been there, to skinny-dip, the chances of being seen had been
next to nil. Their naked moonlight swim had of course led to
other things, and then they were rolling in the sand.
A tremendously loud crash, accompanied by the sounds of
breaking glass - a great number of breaking glasses - had her
jumping. Both she and Mulder instinctively cleared their seats
and began scanning the room. Scully's hand automatically went
to her hip for her gun, and came up empty. Her weapon was at
home, with her cell phone. She flicked her eyes over to Mulder,
to see that he had not left his gun at home, but that he merely
had his hand over his belt holster, hidden by his jacket.
Nothing was amiss on the dance floor or in the small lounge,
and there was no mass of bodies fighting to exit the club. A
loud exclamation from behind them, had her turning around, Mulder
doing the same just a split second later.
Jamie and the other two bartenders were standing and staring at
a mess on the floor. It was apparent one of the shelves directly
in the center of the wall behind the bar, the middle shelf, had
fallen down. Its entire load of glasses, from tumblers to
Highballs, was now shattered to bits.
Once it was realized there was no threat or danger, they relaxed.
Scully resumed her seat on her stool, although Mulder remained
standing, now very close to her, his stomach pressing into her
side.
He leaned one elbow on the bar, and their positions became very
cozy, very intimate. "Now," he drawled out. "Before we were so
rudely interrupted, you were going to tell me if you'd ever had
sex on a beach." The words were murmured smokily, just by her
ear.
She turned her head, and their mouths were once again only
millimeters apart. "Yes, Mulder, I've had sex on a beach."
His eyes widened slightly, and she knew that he had expected
her to answer in the negative. Then he looked intrigued.
And very turned on.
"Oooh, Scully, tell me more," he whispered, this time directly
into her ear, his breath hot. As he pulled away, he gently
nipped her lobe with his teeth, his tongue worrying her earring
for a second or two.
Her low gasp might have been his name. She leaned into him,
and tried to capture his lips. She barely grazed them, and
then he pulled his head back, a tiny smile on his face.
"Tell me," he whispered.
Scully inhaled deeply, held the breath for a moment, before
releasing it in a gusty sigh. "We were up at a cabin, and
there was a beach not too far away. Late one night we went
down for a swim -"
"Naked, Scully?" he asked. He did not bother asking who the
other half of the we was, whom the man had been was not
important, Scully knew.
"Yes, we swam naked," she answered, watching his eyes dilate
to nearly all black, and a flush spread over his cheeks.
"The water was chilly, so we cuddled together, just floating
really, not actually swimming. We drifted a bit, and I
couldn't touch bottom any more, so he told me to wrap my legs
around his waist."
Mulder's other hand was now stroking up and down her back,
slowly, his fingers tickling along her spine. "Go on," he
whispered.
"So I did, and his hands were cupping my...my bottom, and we
were just sort of swaying in place, letting the gentle waves
jostle and move us about. He turned, so that his back was
to the shore, and mine was to the water, and every time a
wave hit us, it pushed me into him a little harder, causing
friction between our bodies."
"Friction is good," he murmured, and shifted his body against
hers, causing a friction of their own. Meanwhile, his hand
had slid all the way down to the base of her spine, his
fingers splayed out, almost cupping her ass. He began to
squeeze gently, rhythmically.
"Ye-es," she said, voice cracking slightly, which earned her
an amused chuckle from Mulder. Clearing her throat, she
tried again. "Yes, friction is good." This time her voice
was quite husky. She started to finish her story, without
prompting from Mulder. "I started kissing his neck and his
jaw, everywhere but his lips, and when he tried to kiss me,
he nearly dropped me. So we let go of each other, and swam
for shore. I thought we would hurry back to the cabin, but
he had other ideas. Barely out of the water, he grabbed my
hand, spun me around, and swept me down to the sand."
"And did you like that, Scully? When he was...forceful?"
He had leaned in again, and spoke the words into her neck,
following them up by nibbling kisses just below her ear.
She could only nod, her head dipping to the side to give him
better access, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure.
The fact that they were in a club, sitting at the bar, with
people all around them, had completely fled her mind. Until
Mulder spoke his next words.
"Scully? Let's get out of here."
Her eyes opened slowly, and she blinked in her hazy state
of arousal. Then the meaning kicked in, and she straightened
up, head moving to see if anyone was paying them any
attention. They were not.
Mulder tugged at her elbow, and she slid off her stool, right
into him, so that their bodies were touching full-length,
front to front. The hardness of his groin pressed into her
stomach, making her sway slightly as she realized the depths
of *his* arousal. Her hands clutched as his upper arms
briefly for balance, before he maneuvered her past him, her
body effectively blocking his state from the other patrons.
They moved swiftly through the throngs of people, winding
their way when necessary, until they were walking out the
door, past Ricky, who smiled and nodded. Mulder held up his
hand in thanks, and guided her down the small staircase to
the sidewalk.
People still waited hopefully beyond the rope barriers, and
some regarded them enviously.
Neither she nor Mulder paid them any mind.
The walk to his car was silent, though his hand clasped
hers warmly. Once there, he opened her door for her, waited
until she had climbed in, and then shut it, moving around
the back of the car to his door.
Seatbelts buckled, engine started. Mulder turned to her
with eyes that still glittered with passion. "Wanna go to
the beach, Scully?"
***
Sandy Point State Park
Friday, 10:00 p.m.
Mulder had unearthed a blanket from the trunk of his car,
and now they were making their way along the hiking trail
to one of the beaches. There had been no other cars in
the lot where they had parked theirs, although they had
seen a few here and there in some of the other lots.
And thankfully they had yet to encounter a single soul.
Conversation was minimal, consisting mostly of muttered
warnings of possible obstacles, or curses when one was
met.
Because the way was uneven and a bit rocky, they had
released each other's hands so that if one of them fell,
both of them would not go down.
Mulder had murmured, "I've got your back," and was close
to her, almost right on top of her actually. Ready to
catch her if she stumbled, she knew.
If he hadn't been that close, she would have suspected
he was ogling her ass. And loved every minute of it.
At last they passed through a scantily treed bit of
forest, hitting a bit of a wild grass-covered dune that
climbed upwards, providing a natural breaker if the
water were ever to reach a higher level. It rose a few
feet, then leveled out for a few more steps, before
sloping gently downhill and becoming the beach.
Scully hesitated briefly when her foot sank into soft
sand at the bottom, then turned to her right. Picking
her way carefully along the dune for several feet, she
came to a spot where the water had worn away at a
section of it, creating an alcove of sorts.
Or a shelter from possible prying eyes. It was perfect,
and a bit of a relief to have found. She was a little
nervous about actually going ahead and having sex on a
beach - a public beach! - even if the idea turned her
on.
Here she stopped, and felt Mulder press right up along
her body from behind as he almost crashed into her.
He was hard again, or still, and his erection was firm
against her lower back. She resisted the temptation to
rub her body up and down the jean-clad bulge.
"What's the matter, Scully?" His voice was hushed, most
likely in deference to the quiet of the night.
"Nothing. I just want to take my boots and socks off,"
she replied, voice equally soft. "Pass me the blanket?"
Instead of passing it to her as requested, he unfolded it
and spread it out for her. Murmuring her thanks, she sat
down on one edge, keeping her feet off of it. A second
later Mulder had plunked down beside her, his shoulder
touching hers.
She unlaced one boot and removed it, pulling her sock
off and tucking it inside the boot before putting it to
one side, on the sand next to the blanket. She did the
same with the other boot, and by the time she had done
that, Mulder had discarded his boots, socks and jacket.
Scully smiled inwardly as she thought of her methodical
removal of her boots and socks, and their subsequent
neat placement, and of his haphazard, rushed discarding.
It was cool by the water, but not overly cold, so Scully
removed her own jacket and put it aside. Her sweater was
long-sleeved, and she was comfortable with only it as
covering. Leaning back slightly, her arms angled back
and her palms flat on the blanket supporting her weight,
she looked out at the water.
The faint crash of the waves as they rolled into shore
was a soothing sound, bringing back fond memories of
childhood holidays spent by the sea.
"So, Scully, how about a skinny-dip?"
She shivered - both from the thought of swimming in what
had to be cold water, and of swimming naked with Mulder.
"Mulder..." she began, and was stopped by his mouth
swooping down onto hers.
Instinct and desire had her lips parting, a welcoming for
his tongue, which delved inside and began to investigate
her mouth thoroughly.
His hand had lifted to palm her cheek, and a moment later
she felt one of his legs slide over hers. He used his
upper body strength to apply pressure, and then she was
lying on her back, Mulder's body partially covering hers.
One of hands automatically came to rest on his hip, while
the other lay flung back over her head, palm up. As for
Mulder's hands, one still cupped her face, and she did
not feel the other - she imagined he was supporting
himself on his elbow.
As they continued to kiss, Mulder's hand left her cheek,
his fingers caressing her jaw for a moment before sliding
down her neck. Then one finger began to glide back and
forth along her collarbone, nudging her sweater aside
with each pass.
Finally they broke for air, both panting harshly, his
forehead resting on hers, staring into her eyes.
Mulder's finger had not ceased its motion, and was still
tracing the line of her clavicle. At the same time he
shifted to prop his chin on his hand, now resting on his
bent elbow, the tip of his finger toyed with the ribbon
strap of her camisole. He continued to stare into her
eyes.
"I didn't forget this, you know," he murmured. "That
first glimpse of that little bit of black ribbon back at
your apartment caused my jeans to become uncomfortably
tight. And I caught little peeks whenever you shifted
or turned. In fact, when you knelt to pick up Frohike's
porn magazine, I could see right down your sweater."
His finger left the strap, and began stroking along her
skin, following the neckline of the sweater. It dipped
into the little vee created by the undone button at the
top, and moved downward, dragging the cotton with it.
While the sweater was not ancient, it had been worn quite
often, and the button holes lately had a tendency to pop
open with too much pressure. She had even accidentally
popped them a time or two when she had moved or stretched
a certain way, one that caused her breasts to thrust
forward. Fortunately, she had always been alone when
that had happened.
It did not take much for the first couple to pop with
Mulder's finger applying pressure.
He made a pleased 'mmmmm' sound when they did. Always
a quick study, he tugged downward even further, releasing
the remainder of the buttons.
The tiny reverberations of each button popping, and the
material of the sweater loosening over her now highly
sensitized breasts, along with the coolness of the air
hitting the silk of her camisole was a teasing torment.
Not to mention the warmth of his finger through the silk.
Scully fought the urge to squirm, while her breathing
rapidly became more shallow.
"I like this sweater, Scully," he said then. "A lot."
His finger trailed up her silk-covered belly until he
reached the black ribbon at her cleavage. His fingers
played with it almost absently. "But I think I'd like
to take it off now."
This was something she had planned on, although in her
imaginings, it had been in the privacy of her bedroom.
With the comfort of her cotton sheets, and the low light
of her table lamps. Perhaps the two of them having a
glass of wine, or even sharing one.
But that didn't matter now.
The thrill of being outdoors, in a public place, albeit
one with a relatively low risk factor, was rather
exhilarating, and pushed aside all thoughts of a
romantic interlude in her bedroom.
Besides, this was *Mulder*. With her on a blanket on
a moonlit beach, the sounds of the waves and the night
itself all around them. It was wild, and sexy, and
risky. She loved it. And knew Mulder did too.
A tugging at one of her sleeves pulled her back into
the here and now, to realize Mulder was attempting to
remove her sweater. Coming up on one elbow, she
offered the other arm for him to pull the sleeve off,
then switched elbows so he could removed the other
one.
Already unbuttoned, it fell to the blanket beneath
her. Scully remained propped on both elbows, her legs
stretched out before her, spread slightly.
Mulder lay on his side facing her, also propped on an
elbow.
He noisily sucked in his next breath, now getting the
full effect of the camisole. "Ohhh, Scully, I like
this," he said huskily.
Wait until you see the thong, she thought to herself,
and let her head fall back, her hair swinging loosely
and brushing the blanket. The pose accentuated her
throat, and thrust her silk-clad breasts forward, as
she had intended.
Running his left index finger down her right shoulder
strap, his arm just brushing her breasts, Mulder
followed the neckline of her camisole, teasing the
ribbon in the center briefly before moving to trace
the other strap up to her left shoulder. He made that
'mmmmm' sound again, and then demonstrated those mind-
reading skills that she jokingly accused him of having
all the time.
"Scully, knowing your love of lingerie, and how much
you like matching sets, I just have to see what you
have on under these pants." The hand that had toyed
with her camisole was now at the waistband of her
pants. He hooked two fingers inside, smiling slightly,
and tugged teasingly.
Those fingers were like firebrands against her body,
even through the silk camisole, and her stomach muscles
fluttered in reaction, and anticipation. Unconsciously,
she spread her legs further.
Scully lifted her head to see Mulder regarding her with
the most intent look she had ever seen. The lust in his
eyes was searing.
Maintaining the eye contact, he nimbly opened the button
at her waist. His smile widened when she sucked in her
breath noisily, her body twitching. He next slid his
fingers up and down the length of her zipper a few times
before grasping the tab and pulling with one quick motion.
Scully swore she heard the rasp of each individual tooth,
even over the rapid thudding of her heart, loud in her
ears.
His hand slowly parted the two halves of her slacks further,
revealing first her belly button, and then the hem of her
thong panties. Skimming his fingertips over her lycra-covered
mons, he murmured, "Just from this tantalizing preview, I know
I won't be disappointed."
Her abdominal muscles quivered at the feather-light contact,
and her pulse leapt. It was now a rapid staccato that she
could feel fluttering wildly at her throat.
He moved so quickly then, like a pouncing jungle cat, that
before she knew it, he was kneeling between her spread legs.
He sat back on his heels, watching with heavy-lidded eyes.
His hands settled on her thighs, and they began to move
teasingly back and forth, never straying close enough to the
vee between her legs.
In reaction, her elbows gave out and she ended up flat on her
back on the blanket, arms thrown out to her sides. Her chest
was rising and falling rapidly, and she was panting.
Smiling slightly, Mulder leaned forward and slowly dragged his
hands up her thighs to her hips, his thumbs just brushing her
mound. Hooking his fingers in the waistband over both hips,
he began to tug at her pants, shimmying them down seductively.
"Lift," he said gently, when his actions were hampered by her
rear end against the ground.
She obliged, bending her knees to plant her bare feet in the
sand and lifting her bottom.
His fingertips grazed her bare cheeks as he resumed tugging on
her pants, thanks to the thong. "Oooooh, Scully," he whispered.
"Did you wear a thong for me?"
Of course she had. But her senses weren't totally scattered
yet, so she managed a teasing, "No, I wore it for Frohike."
If the words were a little breathy, who could blame her?
His eyes flicked to hers, shining with amusement, as his hands
continued to slowly tug her pants down. "Tease," he said, a
sensual smile on his lips.
Her shiver might very well have been because of the cool air
now caressing her bare legs. But she was honest with herself
- it had nothing to do with the weather, and everything to do
with anticipation.
Anticipation regarding the promise she had seen in his eyes
along with his amusement.
Then her pants were gone, easily and capably removed by Mulder,
and she lay before him clad only in a camisole and thong.
She could hear his breathing, loud and uneven. Feel the
intensity of his gaze as it swept over her from head to toe,
lingering at the black lycra triangle between her legs.
Despite his relative position of dominance, towering over her
between her spread legs, Scully knew it was she who held all
the power.
"Scully?" Mulder said thickly, hoarsely. "Roll onto your
stomach for me."
Oh, God. Desire pooled, heavy and hot, in her belly, and
she forgot to breathe. She could only stare at him, her
mouth open slackly.
"Scully?" he said again, and his hands landed lightly on her
bare thighs, just above her knees. A question in his voice.
She ceded her power to him then, without hesitation or fear.
Coming up on her elbows again, she swung one leg up and over
Mulder's, while slowly rolling to her left. She actually
brushed his thighs with her foot, her toes just grazing his
groin area, and then his hands were on her legs. Helping her
until she lay almost flat on her belly, the weight of her
upper body balanced on her forearms.
Mulder let out a soft groaning sound, followed by a guttural
attempt at her name.
That feeling of power returned, surging from deep inside her
psyche, and she smiled, though Mulder could not see her face.
Tossing her hair back playfully, she looked over one shoulder.
The actions of a seductress, or a siren, a side of herself
she did not often allow to emerge.
She conjured up an image of herself, of how she must appear to
Mulder at that very moment.
Pale, white skin shining luminously in the light of the moon,
surely accentuated by the black of her camisole. Body laying
suggestively, and wantonly available, before him.
If she were on her back, he would be able to see her nipples
poking at the silk material, a clear sign of her arousal.
There were other, less obvious clues - her breathing was
shallow, her center was damp and pulsating. Her eyes were
dilated.
A sign only she would recognize was present as well - the
extreme heightening of all her senses.
Over the sounds of his now harsh breathing, she heard with
stunning clarity the snick of his belt sliding out of its
loop, and a moment later the glide of his zipper. Her pulse
stuttered, then leapt, the blood surging through her veins.
Her eyes slipped shut. For now she was imagining Mulder
undressing.
Seeing his long fingers hooking into the waistband of his
jeans. His lean hips wiggling slightly as he tugged the
denim down. The bulge of his cock, snugly confined by the
cotton of his boxer-briefs. Long, sparsely-haired legs,
his skin an olive tint she envied. His slightly knobby
knees. And then his narrow, incredibly sexy feet as he
finally kicked the jeans free.
A soft plop beside her had Scully's eyes snapping open,
her head turning to the side. To realize her imagery had
been correct - she was staring at the dark puddle of his
jeans, now lying a foot away from her body. His tee shirt
landed on top of the jeans a second later, followed very
quickly by his boxer-briefs.
The image now in her head was of Mulder - nude and gloriously
erect, staring down at her, his desire rampant in his eyes.
Just as she decided to roll over so she could stare at him
in all his glory, he sank to his knees between her legs
again. His hands came down to rest well above the backs of
her knees, and the feel of his thumbs warm on her inner
thighs, so close to her wetness, sent a fine tremor through
her body.
"God, Scully," he husked then. "You have the most incredible
ass." His hands pressed flat against the backs of her legs,
and smoothed slowly upwards, until they were palming the very
feature he had just appreciated.
His words were as arousing as his touch.
She had always found Mulder's voice pleasant, but when he
turned on the charm, it was downright sexy. And when he spoke
to her as they were making love, as he was now, it made her
insides melt. Low, intimate, warm tones that emphasized and
highlighted his own arousal.
She sometimes thought that it just might be possible to come
from his voice alone.
He kneaded her firm yet yielding flesh for long moments, still
talking softly, seductively. "I used to walk behind you on
purpose, so I could stare at it, watch it sway from side to
side."
His hands moved up to the thin waistband of her thong, the
fingers of each sliding along it to her hips. There he toyed
with the band, slipping beneath it to stroke at the slight
grooves in her skin from the tight elastic.
Scully braced her weight on her forearms, and began to lift
her hips, to aid him in removing her thong.
But he made no effort to take it off of her.
Instead his fingers skimmed down the sides of her behind, to
tease where ass became thigh. He spoke again, his voice as
soft as his touch. "In those high heels of yours, Scully, you
have the sexiest little wiggle." His hands moved again, his
thumbs now rubbing up along the thin strip of material that
ran up the center to intersect the waistband in a 'T'.
On the downward stroke, his fingers slid beneath the lycra,
a light brush of his knuckles on her delicate, sensitive skin.
She couldn't help bucking from such an intimate touch, her
teeth sinking into her lower lip to hold back a moan. Her
legs parted even further, and she lifted her lower body slightly
in an unspoken plea for his hands to touch her elsewhere. To
touch the ache...the burning heat, just inches away from his
fingers.
Uncaring if her position was lewd and undignified.
His fingers did not slide between her legs as she desperately
wanted them to. Instead, he began to tug gently on the scrap
of lycra, pulling it upwards, creating a delicious friction
as the material slid between her folds, pressing on the hard
bud of her clit.
This time her moan was audible, and the sound ended in his
name. "MmmmmMulder..."
Scully began moving with him, rocking herself against the
motions. Her hips had lifted again as well. In response,
Mulder stopped his ministrations with her thong, one hand
applying pressure on her backside, forcing her body back
down.
Effectively grinding her pelvis into the ground.
And it felt good.
A ridge of rather firmly packed sand had built up right
*there*, beneath her, due to the movements of her body. It
provided that needed pressure to her clit, denied her when
Mulder had ceased his play with her thong.
"Scuh-leee," Mulder husked, and all of a sudden, his weight
was settling over her. He planted his hands on either side
of her body, by her arms, his chest against her back. His
hard cock between their bodies, like a firebrand along her
ass.
Along with the pleasurable feel of his long, male form
covering hers, she was intensely aware of other stimuli.
The texture of the blanket, rough and scratchy against her
bare legs. The contrasts of the sand she lay upon, both
giving and firm at the same time.
"I love to rest my hand low on your back," Mulder whispered
in her ear, his lips just brushing her lobe. "To feel the
flex and play of your muscles with each step you take."
As he spoke, he eased up slightly, bracing his upper body
weight on his forearms, his hands next to hers. Then he
began to rock his lower half, his cock rubbing up and down
her crease.
Once again she lifted her hips, using them and the strength
in her thighs to push at Mulder's body. He hissed her name,
but complied, keeping himself pressed to, and aligned along
her backside, but allowing her to rock back and up onto her
knees, so that he was now draped over her curved body.
Mulder had straightened his arms somewhat, so that his weight
was supported on his palms, while she still rested on her
forearms, though her breasts were no longer pressed into the
blanket-covered sand. His thighs cradled hers, and his cock
still pushed insistently at her ass.
After several long seconds of slow rocking that way, Mulder
shifted again, leaning to his left. Bringing his right hand
up, he first gripped her hip, then slid it between their
bodies.
Scully ducked her hand down and watched as he took his cock
in hand, hissing. She felt him buck, and saw his fingers
curl around his erection and pump it a few times. Her own
fingers clenched around handfuls of the blanket, digging into
the sand beneath, as if they were wrapping around his cock
instead.
His hips then wiggled slightly, and releasing his fist, he
moved his hardness so that it was now pressing between her
legs, along her slick, hot center. His hand then moved to
her stomach, his fingers spread wide.
Scully tilted her hips, and rocked back, hard. This ground
her ass into his pelvis, making him groan, and jerk his hips.
His fingers flexed on her belly, and the muscles there jumped
and quivered in reaction.
"God, Mulder," she whispered. "I want..." Her voice trailed
off as he moved again, the friction created by his cock
rubbing her sensitive flesh chasing any coherent thought
from her head.
His teeth nipped her lobe. "What do you want, Scully,
hmmmm?" His hand slid higher, cupping one of her breasts
and squeezing slightly. His hips continued to pump his
cock back and forth teasingly.
"Want...you...inside me," she cried out, arching her back,
thrusting her breast more fully into his hand. The motion
also bucked her against his groin again.
"Just like this, baby?" he husked, wiggling his hips so
that his cock rubbed harder between her legs. Meanwhile,
two of his fingers plucked and pulled at her nipple, rolling
the hard nubbin the way she liked. "So I can stare at your
gorgeous ass as I slide my cock in and out of your hot
little pussy?"
Scully bucked hard, feeling her inner muscles clenching
spasmodically, as if already filled with his hard, hot
length. A fresh wave of moisture flooded her core. Mulder
only spoke dirty to her on occasion, and whenever he did,
she always reacted wildly. "Yesssss," she hissed. "Fuck
me like this, Mulder. Fuck me hard."
"Ohhhh, baby, yeah," he groaned, hips bucking.
Talking dirty worked both ways, she thought hazily.
The fingers that had been toying with her nipple gave it
one last tug, before gliding down her stomach, and over
her hip to her ass. He stroked and kneaded one cheek for
a few seconds before suddenly lifting his weight from her.
"Come up on all fours," he instructed her, both of his
hands landing on her hips.
She complied quickly, her breaths escaping in quick, hard
pants through her open mouth. Tiny tremors of anticipation
quivered throughout her entire body. Once she had
straightened her arms, supporting her weight on her
palms, she automatically moved one knee, spreading her
legs further apart.
"Good girl," he praised, and stroked his hands down
her flanks and up again.
She quivered again, both from his approval, and his
touch.
His right hand slid back over her ass to the waistband
of her thong, his fingers sliding beneath. Instead of
pulling it down though, he slowly followed the strip in
the center up and down, his knuckles once again teasing
along her crease. "Your ass looks fantastic in a thong,
Scully," he told her. "I want to fuck you with it on."
Oh, God. Her arms buckled, and she nearly fell back to
the blanket. "Mulderrrrr," she keened. "Please."
The hand on her hip clenched, then released, and his
exhalation was a loud, husky groan. His other hand,
now on a downward stroke, did not stop this time, but
continued right to her very wet center, where he plucked
at the lycra, pulling it away from her body and holding
it to one side. "Spread your legs a little wider," he
said urgently, his cock prodding almost desperately at
her entrance.
She quickly shifted both knees with equal desperation,
and was rewarded by his cock thrusting easily and deeply
inside, to its hilt. Stretching her. Filling her. Her
muscles clenched around him in pure pleasure.
"Ahhhhh, Mulderrrr." Her eyes scrunched shut, her fingers
digging into the blanket once again.
"God, Scuh-leeee," he groaned, both hands back on her
hips, grasping at her flesh. "Can...feel you gripping
me...like a tight, hot glove. Feels...so fucking good."
She could feel him quivering now, knowing he was fighting
the urge to thrust like a madman. For she was fighting
a similar urge - the urge to buck wildly beneath him.
He took long, deep breaths then, most likely in an effort
to calm himself, his hands now lightly stroking her hips
and sides. One last, loud husky exhalation, and then he
spoke.
"Ahhhh, baby. Your ass...oh, how I love your ass."
Still deep inside her, he began to smooth his palms over
her cheeks, kneading her flesh.
It felt wonderful, of course, but she wanted him to move.
To thrust fast and hard so that his balls slapped her
pussy, or to glide with slow, easy strokes so that she
felt him fill her one delicious inch at a time.
Mulder's hands settled once more on her hips, with a
gentle but firm grip. Scully felt him lean back then,
away from her, so that their only connection was his
cock filling her so completely.
She knew he was looking down. At her ass, at his cock
disappearing inside her. Her inner muscles spasmed
around him as an image filled her mind.
It was of Mulder staring down at her on all fours on
the blanket as they made love, or fucked, or however
you wanted to phrase it. The look in his eyes, and the
expression on his face, as he watched his cock sliding
in and out of her body were so beautiful.
That was her only regret about this position, that she
could not see Mulder. He was such a beautiful man at
all times, but even more so when in the throes of his
orgasm. Sometimes, it was more incredible to watch him
come, than it was to come herself. She had easily and
without regret postponed or denied her own orgasms in
order to watch him as he achieved his.
And of course, he always made up for it after, never
leaving her unfulfilled, or wanting. In fact, he often
made a mission of ensuring she had multiple orgasms.
Her muscles clenched again from her thoughts, and the
real Mulder groaned her name, momentarily losing his
control. His cock slipped partly out of her core.
Tightening his fingers on her, he thrust his hips until
he was fully embedded inside her once again.
Smiling victoriously, Scully rocked herself forward,
forcing his withdrawal, hoping to entice him to start
moving. Harder and faster.
"Mmmmmm, Scully, you teasing me, baby?" he husked. He
used his hands on her hips to pull her back, his cock
slamming into her with pleasurable force.
"Ahhhhh...I hope so," she moaned out, trying to wiggle
her hips.
"Ohhhhhh, yeah, you are," he told her. "And it's a good
tease, Scully." With that, he again used his hold on her
body to begin rocking her back and forth. In slow,
controlled glides that moved her along his cock, and
made her yearn for more.
She used her arms, elbows locked and palms planted firmly
on the ground, to push herself back into each of his
thrusts. Tiny puffs of air, not quite grunts, escaped her
mouth as her ass bounced off his groin and sent her
forward. Only to be pulled back again and again by her
hips. It felt so damn good.
But she knew it could feel so much better.
"Mulderrrr..." she breathed. "Please."
Biting her lip on another plea, she used the momentum from
his latest thrust, and rocked her body quickly. Pumping
herself along his hot, hard cock. At the same time, she
began to rhythmically clench her inner muscles around his
rigid length.
"Scuh-leeee, God..." Mulder moaned, his fingers flexing
and clutching at her hips. His own hips bucked once,
twice, thrusting into her in hard, fast strokes.
Scully moaned. "Again, Mulder...please."
Whether it was her pleading, or the feelings swamping his
own body, Mulder complied. He began to piston his hips,
the motion and force of his thrusts rocking them both
frantically. Slamming his groin into her ass.
Her breaths were harsh pants, punctuated with an occasional
moan from her parted lips, and accompanied by fevered
mutterings from Mulder.
Thighs quivering and arms trembling, Scully could no longer
hold herself up under the fiercely physical, yet still
pleasurable onslaught. Lowering her upper body until most
of her weight was resting on her forearms, she let her head
drop, almost touching the blanket.
This position changed the angle of penetration, and Mulder
growled his approval. "Yessss, oh Scully, God...that feels
...incredible."
He continued his rapid strokes, a near-constant 'mmmmmm'
sound coming from his lips. Lost in his pleasure perhaps,
he at first he did not seem to notice her return thrusts
had ceased. That she was merely letting him glide her
along his cock instead of actively participating. But
finally the fact registered.
"Scully?" he husked, hips still moving, seemingly unable
to stop. "Is this...not...working...for you?"
While the deep thrusts were certainly stimulating, they
were not quite enough to bring her to orgasm. She needed
clitoral stimulation as well.
"It's...okay," she got out, body still rocked by his
movements. "Don't...stop." This was for him, anyway.
And he would never leave her hanging. Her heart jumped
a little as she wondered how he would take care of her
needs - his mouth, his fingers, perhaps a combination of
both?
"What...about this?" he asked, and then draped his body
over hers, so that his sweaty chest conformed to her
rounded back. As if he had read her mind, a second later
his right hand slid from her hip and glided along her
belly and between her legs. Under the scrap of lycra.
Two fingers found her clit unerringly, and started
circling.
Pleasure immediately reasserted itself in her core with
a vengeance. Every single nerve ending in her body came
alive, and the trembling in her thighs started anew.
"O-oh," she gasped, and instinctively lifted her ass
higher.
Still thrusting steadily, though not quite as rapidly
as before now that he had lost his anchor by releasing
her hips, Mulder swirled his fingers faster and faster
on her erect, throbbing clit.
Her trembling increased, spreading to all her extremities,
while sparkly, colored lights danced on her eyelids. The
beginnings of her orgasm coiled tighter and tighter,
spiraling ever outward, and she started to softly chant
his name with each thrust of his cock.
Mulder's mouth suddenly descended, and he nipped sharply
at the tender spot where neck met shoulder, causing her
to buck beneath him from the erotic pain. He gave a
pleased chuckle that quickly turned to a strangled moan
when she squeezed him with her inner muscles.
"Scuh-leeee," he husked out. Licking the abused spot, he
moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "Do that again,
baby. Squeeze my cock with your hot, little pussy."
"Mulderrrr..." she gasped out, insides fluttering, and
complied with his request. Perspiration soon beaded on
her forehead and upper lip from her exertions. Her
tongue darted out to swipe at the moisture there, and
she managed to duck her head to blot it on her arm.
"Jesussss...Scully!" Mulder groaned. "Oh, yeah...just
like that, baby." His hips picked up the pace, as his
fingers played with her clit. Alternately rubbing the
hardened nub, and pinching it between his thumb and
index finger.
She was so close. "Ahhhhh...Oh, God, Mulder...don't
stop, please don't stop."
"You like that, baby?" was husked into her ear, his
teeth nipping the lobe to punctuate his question. He
sounded smug. Pleased. And aroused as all hell.
But he didn't stop the movement of his fingers. In
fact, the rubbing sped up again, to hard, fast circles.
"Yessss...." she hissed, nearly screaming the word as
her hips began to buck. Her orgasm burst free then,
sending shivering wave after wave of intense pleasure
through her body. She twitched wildly, legs nearly
collapsing, and felt her inner walls clamp down hard on
Mulder's cock. "MULDERRRRR!" she wailed.
He rode the waves with her, buried to the hilt, his hips
still, and fingers gentling on her clit. Murmuring in her
ear. "Oh, baby...that feels so good. Oh, Scuh-leeee...."
He groaned low and deep, burying his head in her neck,
and when her spasms had slowed, shifted position. His
fingers left her clit, gliding to clasp her hip, as his
other hand moved to grasp the other. A moment later, he
had lifted his weight from her, coming up on his knees
again.
Using his hold on her hips, he started to thrust in hard,
fast strokes, grunting an approximation of her name with
each one. "Scuh...Scuh...Scuh..."
Scully rose up, straightening her arms, and began to
counter-thrust, while once again rhythmically clenching
her inner muscles.
That was all it took.
His hands tightened, and he groaned her name long and low
as his hips jerked a few more times. One last spasm, and
he was coming in hot spurts that filled her core.
Scully stilled her hips and relaxed her muscles, slowing
her body to a gentle rocking. Her heart still thudded,
and her breaths were panting exhalations matched by Mulder.
The trembling in her body was now an after-effect of her
orgasm and exertions.
Mulder rocked with her, before finally stopping all
movement. His head dropped until his cheek rested on
her silk-covered back, his hands sliding from her hips
and around her body to encircle her in a squeezing hug.
"Scully..." he sighed.
After a second or two, he lifted his weight off of her,
his spent cock withdrawing, and guided her down to the
blanket. They spooned together, his chest to her back,
one of his arms draped over her middle.
His lips nibbled at her shoulder and then his voice purred
teasingly in her ear. "How about another Screaming
Orgasm, Scully?"
***
The End
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