Date: 15 May 1998 06:53:04 GMT
From: AgentXDoll 
Subject: Cinnamon Calling 

Title: Cinnamon Calling
Author:  Bidie McCucholl
Category: VR
Rating:  NC-17 for strong language and strong sexual situations
Spoilers: Small Potatoes (brief)
Keyword: Mulder/Scully erotica-romance.
Summary:  Mulder receives a free phone call as a "valued customer"
from his favorite 900# phone sex service.  When the conversation
takes a turn toward the erotic, Mulder reveals some intensely 
intimate feelings about Scully to a perfect stranger, plunging
himself into a whirlwind of decadent fantasies about his sexy
FBI partner.
=================================================================
Disclaimer:  Again, the characters of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully
do not belong to me.They belong to FOX,the great Chris Carter and
Ten Thirteen Productions.  I am using these characters without
permission, but if Mr. Carter knew the capacity in which I were
using them, he wouldn't give me permission anyway!  :)  Permission
is a moot point, however, because I am not making a cent off of
this effort.  My reward is the feedback I get from readers like
you.  (Now I sound like a PBS announcer!)  So email me at
AgentXDoll@aol.com if you like it and I might write a
continuation!  Enjoy! (And thanks to Jennifer Brady for our
goofy goofy attempts at naming this gem of a story!)
=================================================================
     The phone was ringing.  And ringing.  
     And where were his damn keys?
     Mulder fumbled in his pockets, his trenchcoat, in any nook
and cranny on his person, attempting to find the keys to his
apartment.  Silently he cursed a string of expletives to the Deity
above as he fidgeted around in the hallway.
      he thought as he continued to search.

     He had turned the office upside down before he'd left work
that afternoon, looking for his keys.  His ever-brilliant partner
had suggested he retrace his steps until he found them. 
Otherwise, she would be glad to give him a ride home.  Mulder had
refused.  His damn pride had made him refuse.  Besides, he'd just
had them earlier that day.  
     Two hours later, however, with no sign of any keys, Mulder
had given up and taken a cab home.  He began to fully realize the
sheer stupidity of that idea when he realized his apartment key 
was hanging on the same ring as his car keys.
      he thought,   He stopped for a minute, still 
engrossed in thought.  
     The doorknob fell to the floor as Mulder kicked the door
open.  With a grin, he thought about what the landlord would 
do in reaction to his dilemma.  But it didn't matter.  It didn't matter because
the phone was ringing and he needed to rest on 
the worn leather of his couch.
     The phone was still ringing.  Thank God.  Or thank the Devil,
one.  He'd soon find out.
     "Hello?" Mulder was gasping as he picked up the receiver. 
"Hello, is anyone still there?"
     "Hello, Fox." The voice was low, soft as a whisper,
smooth as satin, and sultry as a humid summer night in
Mississippi.  "It's nice to hear your sexy voice."
      Mulder's eyebrows raised in surprise, his eyes gleaming
with a hint of something animal.  "And who might this be?"
he rumbled into the receiver.
     "My name is Cinnamon," the sexy voice whispered
breathlessly.  
     "Hello, Cinnamon," Mulder murmured huskily.  "To what do
I owe the honor of this call?"
     The voice on the other end of the phone laughed musically.
She could have been a singer, so beautiful was the melody of her
response to his question.  
     Mulder smiled as the voice began to speak.  "It's an honor
for me to be calling you, Fox.  You're one of our valued 
customers."
     "Valued customers?" Mulder's smile suddenly widened into a
lascivious grin.  "Shouldn't you be calling me Marty?"
     "Marty?"  Suddenly there was silence on the other end of
the phone.  "I don't understand..."
     "Several of your coworkers know me as Marty."
     "Oh..." Cinnamon said.  "You're right.  They just forgot
to tell me."
     Mulder's grin widened.  "So how *did* you get my real name?"
     "Well..." Cinnamon answered, "...I'm very resourceful."
     "I see." Mulder moved closer to the couch.
     "Does it matter that I know your real name?" she asked him.
     Mulder stood in silence for a minute.
     Cinnamon continued.  "Honey, when I was told to call you
and congratulate you on being our first Gold Customer, I wasn't
even thinking about names.  No one told me about the other
name, and because your number was listed, I just assumed that you
wanted to be known by your first name."
     Mulder chuckled.  "It's a---surprise," he said,
"but now that the jig is up, I guess we can be totally frank."  He
paused for a second.  "Now what's this about being a Gold 
Customer?"
     "You're our first Gold Customer," Cinnamon said to him.  "My
supervisor told me to call you and congratulate you on having such
an honor.  And because of your---dedicated patronage, we've
decided to give you a free call.  On us, at no cost to you, for as
long as you like."
     "It must be my lucky day," Mulder said, his baritone voice
tinged with a hint of sexual innuendo.
     "It IS your lucky day, Fox."  Cinnamon's voice had charged
the air around the phone with a certain electric tension, seeping
into Mulder's body with each syllable of her sentence.  "Are you
ready to be lucky?"
     Mulder inhaled a deep breath and sat down on the couch.
"I'm more than ready, Cinnamon," he murmured huskily.
     Cinnamon moaned into Mulder's ear.  The sensation of hearing
such a low female moan sent shivers down his flesh. His every hair
seemed to stand on end.
     "I've had a rough day, Cinnamon," he said.  "I need some...
consolation."
     "You did?  You poor thing." Cinnamon's voice was suddenly
very maternal.  "Tell Miss Cinnamon all about it.  Maybe she 
can help you find some...release from the events of the day." Her
maternal voice became tinged with more erotic promise as she 
finished her reply.
     "Mmmm..." Mulder closed his eyes.  "Well, first off, I was
late to work, and then I was reprimanded for an hour by one of
my superiors for something I hadn't handled properly.  Which
didn't bother me much.  It's a predictable course of events for
my work day."
     "So what was so...'tough' about it, Fox?" she murmured.
     "Well, when I finally made it to my office, I had to deal
with something I hadn't expected."
     "And what was that?"
     Mulder paused before continuing.  "I have a partner.  We've
worked together for five years now.  Things have been, uh, shall
we say, a little---tense between us lately."
     "Tense as in...what way?" Cinnamon asked.
     "Well, you know, ah, just---tense."  Mulder shivered as he
recalled the vision of Dana Scully that morning, dressed in a
suit that came dangerously close to defying Bureau dress code.
No one else had noticed but Mulder, because Mulder knew full well
that Bureau dress code was something Scully strictly adhered to.
The shock of seeing those perfect legs, those shapely calves,
the slight swell of her breasts underneath the light summer suit
had nearly driven Mulder to insanity.  Not to mention the fact 
that he had to look at those legs and the hint of her breasts
every time she handed him a folder or leaned over his desk.
     "Oh."  Cinnamon's response was abbreviated to a simple
syllable.
     "But---tense in a good way, I guess," Mulder continued,
fighting the images of his tempting partner.  "She just---
surprised me today."
     "She?  Your partner is a she?" Cinnamon laughed.  "No 
wonder why certain...things were so...tense."  She emphasized
particular key words.
     Mulder laughed.  "Yeah, certain things were definitely...
strained to their breaking point for the majority of the day."
     "You poor thing," Cinnamon repeated, this time more
huskily.  "What caused things to be so...tense today?"
     "Oh, God," Mulder groaned, remembering the events of the
day.  Scully's suit.  Scully's legs.  Scully's walk.  
Scully's alto voice, with a hint of something more sexual in it
than before.  What game was she trying to play with him?  Had she
had a hot date after work?  No.  Scully hadn't had a date in 
years.  At least to his knowledge.  What if that display was meant
for someone else's perusal later in the day?  What if she was 
displaying more to that someone else right now?  
     Shit.  He couldn't take much more of those thoughts.
     Regardless of Scully's plans for that evening, she
had worn that suit to work and had made good use of its more
revealing assets---not to Skinner, not to any other agent who
just happened to be in the hallway, but to him.  Only him.
She had "accidentally" dropped a file and had bent over so that
his gaze could linger just long enough to see the luscious
curves of her backside, barely covered with nothing but a lace
garter belt, to which were attached stockings of the finest
gossamer.  She'd leaned over a folder he'd been examining,
allowing him an ample view of her generous cleavage.  She'd caught
his gaping stare as well, but she'd never made any sudden attempt
to move away or act in puritanical offense.  The moves were
definitely contrived, and the moves were defnitely for Fox Mulder.
    Scully had moves.  Damn, did Scully have moves.
    Why was it that he had never truly noticed how sexual a being
Dana Scully could be until this morning in the office?  She had
always held his affection, his attention, and even the slightest
stirrings of lust, but never to the degree of today.
    "Fox...?" Cinnamon asked in a lilting yet sexual tone.  "What
did cause things to be so tense today?"
    He was suddenly shaken out of his delicious reverie. "Wha..?"
    Cinnamon repeated the question yet another time, the soothing
honey of her voice ebbing into Mulder's sweaty flesh.
    "Oh..." Mulder sighed, his breath quickening.  "I guess I
just saw her in a different light today.  She was wearing this
suit that barely covered anything on her body."
    "Mhm..." 
    "And it wasn't just the suit, either...she probably could've
been wearing sackcloth and she still would have affected me...the
way she'd walked, talked, acted..."  He shook his head violently
for a few seconds to clear the image of Scully the sex goddess
from his mind.  
    "What did she do, Fox?"
    "She was...doing everything she shouldn't do.  She *wouldn't*
do.  Everything that goes against her standards of professionalism
in the workplace.  She was acting as if she wanted me to take her
in my arms and bang her right there on my desk."
    "She did?"  Cinnamon laughed huskily.  "Maybe she did want
you to bang her right there on your desk."
    Mulder took a deep breath.  "I don't know...it's just not
like her to be that way.  But then again...I know next to nothing
about her motives, her desires, her personal life.  It was hard
enough figuring her out professionally all these years.  I just
don't know what she was trying to tell me.  I got the signals,
I got the hints, but I couldn't catch *why* she was sending them."
    Cinnamon laughed again.  "Fox, honey, I'm here to talk about
anything you want, but darling, I don't think a therapy session
is what you need right now.  I only specialize in one area of
therapy."  Her voice lowered several degrees as she ended her
last sentence.
    Mulder chuckled.  "Just how---specialized are you, Cinnamon?"
    "Enough to fulfill any longing you may have tonight, honey."
The endearment was sinful delight to Mulder's ear.  "Why don't you
take me up on it?"
    A rough groan made its way from Mulder's throat into the
phone.  "I thought you'd never ask," he rumbled into the receiver.
    Mulder heard the lilting sound of a girlish giggle in his
ear, replaced suddenly by the sweet inflections of Cinnamon's
voice.  "What do you want, Fox?  Tell me what you want."
    He began to pant heavily, his breath coming in harsh, ragged
gasps.  "I want...I want..." 
    Dammit.  Scully again.  That damn suit.  That damn display,
robbing him of any coherent thought.  How could *she* do that to 
him, when far more beautiful women had done as much and had never
driven him to this measure of insanity?
    "What is it, Fox?"  Cinnamon's voice was tinged with concern.
    Mulder took another deep breath.  "I---can't do this.  I 
just---can't."
    "Why not?"
    "I can't stop thinking about---her."  Mulder's last word was
more a groan than a word.
    "Your partner."
    "Yes."  Mulder kept breathing deeply, hoping to restore some
control to his pounding heart, his racing pulse, and the gigantic
bulge between his legs.  "I can't explain it---no one's ever
affected me like she has.  And dammit, it's just like me to want
someone I can never have."
    There was silence on the phone for a few minutes.  "You love
her, Fox?"
    Ouch.  Cinnamon's question had painfully hit home, in the
center of his being.  "I---I---do.  I love her."  He sighed.  "I
love her and I want her and I need her...her mind and her soul,
and her heart, all of her.  Not just her body---although I'd
settle for that, if that was all she could give me."
    His confession was met with silence again.
    "But she can't give me that," he continued, sighing 
dejectedly.  "Any of it.  She keeps it all to herself."
    There was a brief pause before Cinnamon replied to him.
"Fox, honey, you don't deserve to be like this.  I bet you're
very handsome and very desirable...you could have any woman
you wanted."
    "But I want *her*," Mulder said painfully, the bulge in his
pants growing dangerously large.  His throat seemed to be
constricted with conflicting tension, pain, and longing all at
once.
    Silence.  "Fox, let me do something for you.  Let me
take away these frustrations.  You've had them for so long.  Let
me do something for you, baby."
    "Do...something?" Mulder's throat was beginning to close on
him.  "What did you...have in mind?"
    "Well...normally I'm enough for most men, but I sense you
need someone else...or the illusion of someone else...to satisfy 
your desire."  She paused before continuing.  "Pretend I'm her."
    "What?" It was an incredulous proposal.  A phone-sex girl
even aspiring to be Dana Scully for one brief instant in time.
It would never work.  It just wouldn't.
    "That's right, baby.  Pretend I'm your partner."
    Mulder inhaled a shaky breath.  "Can you---do that?"
    "Honey, I can do anything I want," she drawled.  "I can be
anyone you want me to be.  All you have to do is tell me what you
want." 
    There was another pause as Mulder scrambled to think of words
to describe Scully.  His goddess.
    "Does she have a name, or is she just 'babe' or 'girl'?"
Cinnamon asked him.
    "Yeah, she's got a name," Mulder replied, still thinking of
how he could put Dana Scully into mere words.
    "You mind telling me?" Cinnamon said, a little more
forcefully.
    Mulder halted his thought process for a second and choked out
the words.  "Scully.  Dana Scully."
    "Scully, huh?"
    "Yeah, we call each other by our last names...something we
agreed upon a...a long time ago."
    "You wanna call me Scully, then?" she asked him.
    Mulder shook his head in refusal, even though he knew she
could not see his gesture.  "No.  No.  I wanna call you Dana."
    Dana.  The sweetest sound in the whole world.  So simple a
name for someone so enigmatic, so complex, so full of mysteries
waiting to be unlocked from within, revealed and solved.  Part
of her soul.  Her spirit.  Her inner child that crept out from
time to time when Mulder caught her in a rare smile or an even
rarer laugh.  How he longed to know Dana...not just Scully.
    "Dana it is, then, Fox."  Cinnamon's voice seemed much
lighter than before.  "Where do you want to begin?"
    Mulder thought for a moment, adjusting his pants so that
the straining bulge underneath was not nearly so uncomfortable.
"I'm caressing your hair...you have such beautiful red hair...
not too short, but not too long, just how I like it..."
    "Go on..." Cinnamon's voice sounded far away.
    "I'm looking into your eyes...God, they're so blue...as blue
as a summer sky, so clear you can almost see straight through them
sometimes.  You're looking at me with such love in your eyes...oh
Dana..."
    "Don't stop..."
    "I reach down to caress your cheek.  Your skin is so smooth,
smoother than satin...too perfect to be real.  My thumb barely
grazes your cheek as my hand cups your chin.  Then...I lean
forward and descend to kiss your lips...softly at first, exploring
the softness there.  Then harder, as I try to fuse our lips into
one white-hot mass."
    Mulder heard a ragged sigh come from Cinnamon's mouth.  "Yes,
Fox...don't stop..."
    "You part your lips slightly, just enough for my tongue to 
enter that warm mouth of yours.  You taste so good...like honey
and warm milk and chocolate all together.  I invade every inch of
your mouth and finally your tongue battles with mine."  He moaned.
"I let you win and your tongue enters my mouth...it's so warm,
so inviting, so soft, as it caresses every inch of my mouth."
    "You taste like heaven," Cinnamon said temptingly, driving
Mulder even further into his fantasy.
    "I kiss you for hours and hours until those full lips are
all red and swollen from my attentions.  Then I begin to take your
suit off..." That suit...damn, that sinful suit.  "I unbutton
the jacket very slowly, expecting to find something underneath,
but nothing...nothing except a black lace bra that frames your
breasts so perfectly."
   "Yes...mmm...go on..."
   "Then I reach behind to the small of your back and begin
unzipping your skirt...what little of it there is...oh, God..."
Mulder shivered as he remembered how dangerously high the hemline
had been.  "No slip, nothing but that garter belt and stockings...
which I intend to remove as soon as possible."
   "Take 'em off, Fox," she gasped, her breath ragged and heavy.
   "I slowly unfasten those stockings and take great care not to
run them as I slide them down the softness of your thighs...your
legs...your ankles...I touch the curve of your instep as I remove
the stockings and caress the balls of your feet.  You have such
perfect feet.  So petite and small, just like you..."
    "Now the garter belt, Fox, the garter..."  Cinnamon sounded
impatient.
    "I...remove the garter belt from your waist and then I move
to your bra...As pretty as you look in it, I know it has to come
off.  I have to see your breasts...I have to touch them, to taste
them, to bury my head between them."
    "Oh, baby, do it," Cinnamon whispered.
    "I stand there for a second, just looking at you.  God you're
beautiful, Dana.  Your breasts are so full...so ready for my 
touch, my kiss...your waist is small...I can nearly wrap my hands
around the width of it...Your hips are round and full, but not
too much to disturb the beauty of your frame.  Your legs...well,
I could go on all day about your legs...."  He smiled.  "But it's
that one place, between them...covered with tiny red curls that
interests me the most...I want to see what those curls are 
guarding, to caress its secrets, to fill the most secret part of
you with me...."
     Cinnamon made a small choking sound, then gasped for breath.
"Oh, Fox..." 
     Mulder continued.  "I pick you up and carry you to the bed.
You're so light and fragile, like a porcelain doll.  The finest
porcelain doll.  I lay you down on the bed and stay away from you
long enough to take off my clothes so I can feel what it's like
to touch your flesh with mine.  All over."  He began gasping for
air as he undid the buckle on his belt and worked on removing his
pants.
     "Keep going, Fox...don't stop now..."
     "I kiss your lips again...God I could just kiss your lips all
day and be satisfied...well, most of the day, at least."  He 
grinned mischievously as Cinnamon giggled.  "Then I move lower, to
your neck...what graceful curves you have beneath that angelic 
face...then lower to your breasts.  I take them in my hands, 
slowly caressing each curve, each part.  Then I kiss them softly,
flicking my tongue in and out to taste every inch of them...and
when my lips and tongue finally find your nipples, you scream in
pleasure and beg me to suck them.  I suck them like a starving
baby and you gladly give them to me."
     "Oh...." Cinnamon was lost for words at Mulder's erotic 
description.
     "I move lower, to your stomach, your navel...my tongue flicks
in and out there too...drawing lazy circles around it.  I move
lower still,  to your inner thighs...God, I can smell your scent
already, and it's driving me insane...I have to kiss you there,
between your thighs, everywhere, concentrating on your clit.  You
gasp and moan and scream and beg me to stop, to continue...you're
not sure which."
     Cinnamon was moaning quite heavily into the phone, her moans
directly traveling to Mulder's penis, sending it aflame with sharp
pinlike tingles.
     "I stop, only to position myself above you.  You gladly part
your thighs for me.  And then...oh, God...then..."
     "Yes?"
     "I enter you with one long stroke...oh, God, Dana..."
     "Fox..." 
     Mulder's free hand, as if by instinct, went to his dick, 
enclosing around the hard member and moving with slow, languid
strokes as he imagined making love to his goddess.  "Slowly,
slowly," he panted, "we begin our dance...an age-old dance of
love...until you beg me to quicken the pace."
     "Faster, Fox...oh, faster," Cinnamon pleaded.
     "I happily oblige you," he groaned into the receiver, his
other hand moving faster over his dick, matching the quickened
pace of his breath,  "and myself.  Oh God Dana, you feel so 
good...you're moaning and groaning and thrashing around...your
legs are around my waist and your hands are pulling at my
buttocks...begging me to enter deeper, even though we've reached
the limit.  You seem to want me to pierce your womb with my
dick."
     "Oh...yes..."
     "I can't hold back any more, Dana...I can't."  Mulder began
jerking his member frantically, his eyelids fluttering wildly with
the intensity of his sensations.  "I want you so bad...I can't get
close enough to you...I try so hard...And then you scream as the
first spasms of your orgasm hit...You cry out my name over and
over again, and you enclose around me...and then I'm coming and
coming and I can't stop coming...oh, dear GOD, Dana..."
     "Oh God ohgodohgodohgodoh *GOD*, Fox...!!!"
     Mulder barely heard Cinnamon's words; her cries sent him
over the edge in a blaze of white-hot ecstasy.  He grunted out a
prayer to the Deity and to his goddess before collapsing on the
couch, his hand soaked with the seed of his spent desire.
     Afterwards, neither spoke for several minutes.  Soft moans
and contented sighs were heard from each participant.
     Finally Cinnamon broke the silence.  "Well, Fox, you
certainly know how to---please a woman..." She emitted a low
chuckle from the deepest regions of her throat.  "If that's what
you can do over the phone, I'd love to see what you can do in
person..."
     Mulder let out a long sigh of release before speaking.  
"Fortunately for women, it IS one of my greatest talents."
     "You should get a job here," Cinnamon said to him.  "The
lady callers would LOVE you."
     Mulder answered her with a guttural laugh.  "It does
sound tempting, but unfortunately, I can only save those, uh, 
skills, for one woman only."
     There was a slight pause before Cinnamon spoke.  "Then you
should go to her and tell her.  Tell her, Fox.  And don't spend
your life getting up the courage.  Just tell her."
     "But then you'll be out of a job," Mulder said.
     Cinnamon laughed.  "Well, you are good for business, Fox,
but there are other men who keep us afloat.  I'll be just fine."
     "Then I will."  Mulder nodded to himself as an affirmation
of his resolve.  "Good night, Dana---er, I mean, Cinnamon."
     "Pleasant dreams, Mulder."
     Mulder scarcely noticed the use of his last name until the
phone disconnected.  Suddenly he realized that Cinnamon's last
sentence didn't sound like Cinnamon at all....but rather, 
someone who had the courage to wear high hemlines to work and
tempt the bejeezus out of him.  Could it be...?
     Nah.  Nah.  It couldn't possibly be...It was unfathomable.
Inconceivable.  He cleaned himself up and curled in front of the
TV with a contented smile on his face.  At least he had her in
his mind tonight.  The woman was a damn fine actress and
definitely worth the reward for his patronage.
     Meanwhile, far away in Annapolis, a petite redhead was
sitting on her couch, naked, eyeing the phone with an
uncharacteristically giddy expression on her face.  She smiled
to herself as a slight sniggle erupted from her delicate nostrils.
     Cinnamon, indeed.

*THE END*

    Source: geocities.com/solofbi