From: amanda  jeanne  le bas de plumetot 
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW STORY:Keyhole***WARNING NC-17 XXX RATING
Date: 5 Dec 1995 22:55:44 GMT


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WARNING
^^^^^^^
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I don't think this is one that Newtie pie would like to read. It 
contains material that some people may find offensive. It is NOT 
reccommended for anyone under the age of 17, or anyone who does
not want to read explicit sexually oriented material. I rate it
NC-17 XXX.

I have tried not to make it completely gratuitous, but it is
basically a big masturbation scene and I know that isn't everyone's
cup of whatever. I don't normally write this kind of material, but
the very sexy story "Fantasies" got me thinking, and this is what
I came up with. Not exactly a reply, but along the same lines. I
have tried to keep within the behaviours I believe would be appropriate
to the characters.

Anyway, the characters Mulder and Scully are the property of Chris
Carter and ten thirteen productions and have been used without
permission.


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in case you missed it the first time:

WARNING
^^^^^^^

this story is rated
NC-17
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KEYHOLE

Scully was annoyed. Mulder knew she hated it when he made her late, yet 
here she was, waiting. He didn't answer the first knock and she wasn't 
going to make a scene by yelling, she had a key to his place, so she let 
herself in.

"Mulder?" No answer. In the middle of the lounge room floor was a baggy 
sweatshirt, still damp with sweat. He'd gone running and forgotten the 
time. There was a striptease down the hallway to the bathroom, she could 
see track pants and shoes. In the distancce she could hear the sound of the 
shower. She toyed with the idea of  tidying up the scattered clothes  but 
decided against it. Mulder could look after his own sweaty laundry.

She waited, staring at the fish. They did the same energetic dance that 
they used to convince Mulder to feed them every time he walked into the 
room. Funny how well trained they had him. She took a few flakes from the 
packet of fish food and sprinkled them on the water. They had Scully rather 
well trained, too. She flicked on the light and picked up a magazine. There 
were plenty of beautiful glossy pictures in it, but it wasn't the kind of 
thing she'd want on her coffee table. Most of the physiques looked as if 
they belonged on athletes. Most of the positions looked like they would 
need a broad minded chiropractor with a penchance for nude jelly wrestling 
and 3-dimensional jigsaw puzzles to undo.

Scully was getting bored. How the hell long did it take for Mulder to get 
himself cleaned up? He was going to wash himself down the plughole if the 
hot water didn't run out first. Then she started to worry. Perhaps Mulder 
was sick and hunched down in a miserable shivering heap in the corner of 
his cubicle. Or maybe he'd disturbed an intruder. It was possible. Even 
Mulder let his guard down sometimes, and when more than at home? He could 
have  had his head smashed and be lying there with his blood washing down 
the drain...Scully knew it was a mistake to sit up half the night watching 
Psycho. Now she had to go and make sure that Mulder was ok.

She didn't turn on the hall light, the light from the lounge room behind 
her was enough, it stretched her shadow along the hall floor in front of 
her. There was an odd light coming from the bathroom. She paused as she 
came to the door. How was she going to explain this if Mulder was perfectly 
all right, and just wanted to have a long shower? She couldn't just walk in 
on him and tell him she was frightened for his life while he was bathing. 
Even her mother didn't obsess that badly. Mulder would never let her live 
it down. She needed to just peer through the keyhole or something, just to 
let herself know that he was all right.

He hadn't shut the door. It opened inwards, away from her. She could see a 
candle on the vanity, that was the odd, flickering light she had wondered 
about. The shower cubicle was directly behind the door, and she would have 
to push it open to see in, unless...She put her eye to the gap between door 
and jamb on the hinge side. She could see him then, moving about.

Water sluiced over his head  and cascaded down his body. He flicked it out 
of his eyes and in the flickering light provided by the candle she could 
see him smiling. The glass walls of the cubicle were clear as crystal. 
Apparently he kept them sprayed with one of those miracle glass de-foggers 
you got off the home shopping shows. Scully was relieved she hadn't peeped 
round the door, he'd have seen her straight away. She should have realised 
that Mulder's paranoia made him the kind of person who even kept a watch 
out while he was in the shower. She smiled too. It was like watching a wild 
animal from a photographer's hide, like seeing him in his natural habitat. 
Naked and alone, she would have expected him to look vulnerable, but here 
he looked feral and foxy.

The secrecy was part of it, and Scully had to admit a certain enjoyment. 
She'd seen him naked before, but always sick naked, lying dependent and 
limp in hospital beds. Now there was a whole world of difference. She 
enjoyed the gliding interplay of his long, hard muscles and the sensuous 
way he let the water flow over his body, and until now it had never 
occurred to her to speculate on just how *big* her partner was. Not that 
she'd had a huge wealth of experience with men's dangly bits, but she 
recalled an in-depth conversation with her younger brother just after she'd 
graduated medical school. He'd made certain observations in the locker room 
at the gym, and he figured this was one doctor he could safely confide in. 
Mulder would have rated Very Impressive on her brother's scale. Very 
Impressive and very...erect.

Scully wasn't sure why she kept watching. She wasn't a pervert. She hadn't 
been at all interested in Mulder's magazine, but she wanted to watch him. 
To see him, still smiling as he soaped his right hand and then let it slide 
in a slow, sensuous motion along the shaft of his penis from tip to balls. 
His hand rested there for a moment and then began slowly, gently, soaping 
his scrotum. Scully bit her lip, she could feel her own hands clenching 
into fists and sliding along her thighs, apparently of their own accord. 
She knew she should look away, Mulder chose to be alone at this time. It 
was wrong to watch.

His hand returned to the shaft, stroking, long and  hard five or six times, 
holding it hard up against his belly and letting his fingers trail upwards. 
He squeezed the cheeks of his bottom together in time to the relaxed rhythm 
of his stroking, his eyes fixed on some middle distant point on the floor 
beyond the slightly opened bathroom door. She studied his face through the 
sheen of water flowing down the cubicle's glass walls. His smiles were too 
rare, he looked very different when he smiled. Scully's hands were hard 
against her crotch and she could feel her nipples taut against the lace of 
her bra. She leaned hard against the door jamb, watching his hands, his 
body, powerless to drag herself away.

He cupped his balls with his left hand, massaging them slowly while he 
traced tiny circles around the head of his penis with just the tip of the 
index finger of his right hand. He drew the tips of his fingers along the 
shaft as though he was teasing himself. Scully had slipped her left hand 
under her dress and clenched it tight between her thighs  but somehow the 
middle finger had escaped and made its way into her panties and rested 
against her clitoris which moved against it to the rhythm of her rocking 
hips.

God, Mulder, why the hell was she doing this? It was wrong and there was no 
way to make it right. She wished he would make a sound, but she heard 
nothing over the noise of the shower. She was mesmerised by him, by the 
little smile and the sliding hand that moved, now, in the same rhythm as 
her hips. Her right hand brushed against her hard nipple. He was using two 
hands now, long and slow and hard, letting the right hand slide right to 
the tip while the left held the base of the shaft very tightly.

She was feeling dizzy. A purely physiological response, she reminded 
herself, since all the blood had rushed to her genitals. She flicked at her 
clitoris with her finger, speeding the rhythm to a throbbing pulse. Her 
tongue pushed its way between her lips and  she imagined sucking Mulder's 
fat dick and biting his juicy lips. Only his hand moved now, pumping fast 
and hard along his shaft. She stared at his mouth and imagined herself 
devouring it, and in that moment she came. It was a small, shuddering 
abrupt orgasm that gave her nothing but a slight sense of relief as 
compensation for the enormous feeling of perverted guilt that the act had 
given her.

Her blood hissed in her ears and she slumped against the wall and watched 
Mulder as he came. His eyes lost focus and then closed for a moment and his 
mouth opened in an expression of what might have been agony. He leant as 
though exhausted against the wall of the cubicle, his shoulders heaving, 
his cock resting gently in his hand. He was staring at the wad of cum as it 
slipped down the glass, idly splashing at it to wash it away. All in 
silence. Mulder hadn't uttered a single sound. Scully wished he had said 
her name, just once. It would have given her an excuse to come into the 
bathroom, "Want a hand?" she could have said. She smoothed the rumples from 
her clothes and backed away from the door. 

Scully turned and walked back down the hallway. Mulder would find her in 
the kitchen,cool as a cucumber, making a cup of tea. Eventually she might 
be able to pretend to herself that nothing had ever happened. That the 
whole thing had simply been her imagination. She never realised that with 
the light from the loungeroom shining down the short hall from behind her, 
her shadow had been clearly visible from within the candle-lit bathroom.

***
that's it.
It's been suggested I write more about what came next...
but I'm not going to

*:)
amanda

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