Superficial Contact
Title - SUPERFICIAL CONTACT
Author - Red Valerian
E-Mail address - redvalerian@gmail.com
Rating - NC17
Category - Story/Romance - subcategory: Mulder/Scully-ish - Skinner/Scully/Mulder nearly - Skinner/Mulder almost (I live to tease)
Spoilers - none
Keywords - smut, smut and more smut
Summary - Mulder is about to discover the difference between reality and fantasy. So is Scully. So is Skinner. So are we.
Archive at will. Pretty please.
NB: The first part of this 'opus' was posted some time ago on Bobbi's erotica site. This contains the concluding chapters, as well as a reposting of the initial one. Hope it's OK to do it this way.
Part One: Our hero finally succumbs to his wildest fantasies concerning you know who. Part Two: Power games between M & S Part Three: More fantasies - starring Mulder, Skinner and Scully this time - well, almost Part Four: Slash - Skinner/Mulder - well practically
Standard disclaimer - they're not mine, they belong to Chris/Il Duce. Or Fox or 10-13 or someone. Not me anyway. I'm just manipulating them shamelessly like everyone else. Who knew it would be such fun?
'Superficial Contact' By Red Valerian
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
- Part 1/4 -
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
Scully was bent over a notepad, carefully highlighting sentences with a fat red marker pen - her glasses pushed onto the end of her nose so that she could look up over them more easily if she wanted a word with her partner. As usual it was very late at night, and they had the office - if not the whole building, to themselves. Each sat insulated in the small pool of light thrown by their respective desk lamps. The light cast shadows on their faces, making them both look isolated and alone. And rather vulnerable.
So far Scully hadn't needed to ask him anything. Mulder watched her surreptitiously from his desk, while he was apparently engaged in an identical task. He couldn't concentrate, however. It was her fault. Sort of. Mulder couldn't imagine anything more erotic than Scully was at this precise moment - lids veiling the startlingly blue eyes; lips pursed in thought as she sucked on the end of the phallic-shaped pen; her open-necked blouse showing a hint of creamy skin tinged with pink; her nipples just visible through the sheer fabric. At least to his imagination.
Christ. How he wanted to get up, go over to her, throw the notepad down and kiss her. To substitute something else for that pen. Something else altogether more appropriate for those lips to suck. Suddenly she swivelled her chair away from him and bent back over her desk, writing furiously on the notepad. Now he could only see her slender back, and the tender nape of her neck. He longed to jump up and kiss the sweet flesh he could see there; to nibble her ear lobes; to bury his face in her hair. Instead, he willed her to turn back and face him again but she remained maddeningly involved in her work.
Mulder was being driven insane by her presence, and a part of him felt like she knew exactly what effect she had on him and revelled in it. The more rational part of what was left of his brain realised that she probably had no idea of her power. But he couldn't decide. Every time he tried to think about it logically, he got a mental picture of Scully's hair spread out on a pillow under his thrusting body - her eyes glazed in passion, gentle moans escaping from her open full lips as she pleaded with him for 'more'. He looked down and saw that his erection would be completely visible if he stood up.
Now there was a thought.
He imagined rising from his chair, and walking over to Scully's desk. He'd stand silently behind her. She'd take no notice of course, being so engrossed in her task - so he'd have to call attention to himself.
'Scully', he'd say huskily. "I have something to show you.' After all, Scully was a scientist, who always wanted to examine evidence. He'd show her some evidence now. About nine inches of it. He'd lean over and put his hands on either side of her shoulders and begin kneading her tense neck muscles.
'Ooohhh - that's lovely, Mulder' she would murmur, innocently leaning back against him. As she did so her head would burrow into his crotch - and she'd inadvertently begin to rub herself against his growing erection. Suddenly she'd freeze - as she realised just what she was leaning against. Before she could pull away, Mulder would spin her swivel chair around so that her mouth was level with his bulging fly. And then she'd...she'd...she'd.....what?
That was just about as far as his fantasy went. He couldn't quite imagine her reaction should he ever do anything so rash. But he couldn't stop wondering and dreaming about it. The fear and doubt may have kept him in his seat but the possibilites were occupying his every waking moment and most of his sleeping ones.
Mulder was so involved with his internal musings, that he'd failed to notice that Scully had turned back in his direction and was staring at him with concern.
'Mulder? What's the matter?'
Scully's sympathetic tones brought him to his senses and Mulder had the grace to blush. He then spun away from her, muttering something incomprehensible. Suddenly he didn't want her to see his erection - to suspect his lascivious yearnings. God - he was pathetic. She was his colleague - his friend. His best friend. And here he was having these perverted cravings about her. He hated himself.
But even as he thought the words he found himself continuing the interrupted fantasy. Almost against his will and reason, the images filled his mind again. And this time they weren't going to be cut short. A part of him was angry with Scully for catching him out, even though he knew it was illogical. This anger and four years of sexual frustration started to spill over into the fantasy. Those videos he watched may have influenced the scenario but the truth was, Scully needed to be punished for all the torment she was putting him through...didn't she?
Now - where had he been? Oh yes.....
He'd be standing behind her chair, massaging her shoulders. She'd lean innocently against his erection, and gently rub her head into his crotch. He'd spin her chair around so that her mouth was level with his bulging fly. And then.....and then...
..................................................
Mulder looked down at the copper-coloured hair, only daring to speak because she hadn't yet looked up at him. She seemed transfixed by the growing bulge in his trousers.
'So now you know how I feel about you, Scully,' he whispered throatily. 'What are you going to do about it?'
As he asked the question, he kept his hands on her shoulders, gripping her like a vice. There was a tense moment of frozen silence, and then Scully did what he had hoped, dreamed and prayed she would do. She reached out and unzipped his suit trousers, and then delved into his silk boxers to free his swollen member. There was almost a reverence in the way she handled his massive cock - her hands looking like those of a child in comparison to its length and breadth. She tentatively moved her fingers along its frightening length, before bending quickly to kiss the tip with her full lips. Lips made for fellatio, as Mulder had often thought. Not today, however. Today he wanted to be in her cunt, not her mouth. That could come later.
He saw that Scully was mesmerised and took advantage of the situation. He knew that if he spoke too soon, the spell would be broken, so he'd let his hands guide Scully into the position he wanted her to be in. On her knees. Facing away from him. Fully dressed except for panties, which he intended to remove himself. For all his supposed stance as a renaissance man - in his heart Mulder know that what he really wanted to do was fuck Scully like a dog fucks a bitch. To make her scream for more. To make her beg. Maybe he was motivated by the need to make her suffer just as he'd been suffering since they had known each other? Maybe it was just a 'guy' thing. Who knew his reasons? Who cared? He was surprised himself at his aggressive desire to scare her a little, even while he gave her pleasure. Fear is an aphrodisiac, after all.
It was working. Scully was a little frightened at his extended silence. She looked up at him uncertainly and opened her mouth to speak. Mulder silenced her by putting his finger to his lips. Then he took the black silk scarf which was lying discarded on Scully's desk, and carefully used it to loosely tie her wrists together. Scully's eyes widened, but she didn't try to stand up or ask him what he was doing. In fact, he could now smell her arousal. It was making his cock even harder, if that were possible.
'Get down on the floor Scully,' he whispered 'and hold out your hands.'
She did exactly as she was told, and Mulder, after gently turning her away from him, took her slender silk-bound wrists and hooked them over the protruding knob of the central drawer of her desk. She was now in a position of absolute submission - apparently powerless before him, although at any time she could ask him for mercy. She could ask him to stop. He willed her to remain silent however, and thanked god when she did.
Growing more confident, Mulder guided her into a kneeling position, then lifted her ass into the air. Turning up her skirt, he gazed in rapture at her satin clad cunt. There was already a damp patch on the panties, which was spreading even as he watched. He leant forward and kissed her on the spot, then he took scissors from the desk and cut off the panties, letting them fall onto the floor. He then spread her legs slightly, and admired his handiwork. Scully faced away from him now, her ass invitingly in the air, her cunt lips glistening and beginning to ooze a creamy liquid which was driving him wild. Because of her position, she looked exactly like a little girl saying her prayers. Well, this little girl would soon be getting exactly what she so clearly wanted.
'Hey Scully' murmured Mulder, as he sank to his knees behind her."Hey - let me hear you groan. If you want me inside you, you're going to have to let me know you want it"
Obediently, she groaned - a guttural sound that caused Mulder to grin triumphantly. He was taking a perverse pleasure in humiliating her. He hadn't realised just how much he had been blaming her for his sexual frustrations. Still, she obviously loved this. Her cunt was actually dripping now. He reached out a tentative finger and wiped some of the ooze away, immediatley afterwards putting the finger to his lips. He sucked her juices avidly. At the first feel of his finger, Scully had bucked in the air, and begun to whimper wildly - trying to push her cunt onto the finger - desperate to be entered. She turned her face back towards him, her blue eyes pleading - but still she said not a word.
Mulder laughed. 'Not yet Scully! Be patient - that was just my finger. I've got something much nicer for you. Do you want it?' She began to groan and thrash her bottom like a cat in heat. This was exactly what he wanted. He'd put her out of her misery now - it was the least she deserved. Well...in a minute he would. He just had to taste her properly before he entered her.
He placed his massive hands on her rosy ass cheeks and spread them apart. Then leaning forward, he began to flick her vaginal opening with his tongue - tormenting and tickling her at the same time as giving her pleasure. She began to squirm and whimper in a way not to be borne for long. Mulder could not resist, anyway. He covered her whole cunt area with one final, long, slow, lick - then leaned back on his haunches to ready himself for the assault.
Taking his massive prick in his hand, he touched the tip to Scully's slick but tiny vaginal opening. It gleamed with a tantalising blend of his saliva and her juices. Gently he prodded the entrance, and was rewarded with Scully squirming in rapture. He decided to torture her just a little more. Taking one of her ass cheeks in each hand again, he used his thumbs to part her cunt lips, so that the opening was more accessible. Then he again pressed his cock to the opening, this time inserting it in agonising slowness, until the entire head was inside her. Just the head - no more. He then removed it and reinserted it several times in a few quick thrusts, all the while holding her ass cheeks apart. The sight of his cock head disappearing into her tight little fissure was entrancing. He couldn't bring himself to stop. He punctuated each tiny stroke with a gasped question.
'Do... you ...like... this... Scully? .....Do... you... want... more? ..... Do you want me to.... fuck you properly?.....Beg.. me ...for... it, Agent ...Scully! Beg... me!'
She did what she could by whimpering and thrashing her adorable little bottom, trying desperately to push back against him so that he would have to enter her fully. However, her tied hands and her awkward position made it impossible for her to take any control of the situation. Mulder had all the power, and this was exactly how he wanted it for the moment. However, he could no longer restrain his own desire, even though torturing Scully a bit more would have been more of a turn-on. He decided it was time to put them both out of their respective miseries.
Still parting her cheeks, he suddenly froze with his cock head inside Scully. This time instead of pulling it out, he slowly pushed it into her throbbing cunt, watching as it disappeared inch by inch inside her. He couldn't believe how erotic this was - not just being in Scully's cunt, but watching himself disappear inside her, and hearing her hiss of pleasure. Finally his whole length was inside her, and he could feel his balls resting against her warm moist crotch. He let her cheeks go then, and repositioned his hands on her hips. She fitted him like a surgeon's latex gloves. Scully and latex? Where had that thought come from? Shaking his head, he bent forward.
'It's showtime, Scully,' he whispered, as he began to thrust himself in and out of her tight, slick cunt, using his hands to yank her body towards his as he ploughed into her from behind. Suddenly he wanted to hear her properly, and decided to tell her so.
'Speak to me Scully,' he gasped, between thrusts. 'Speak to me now!' He hoped to hear her screaming his name, and she rewarded him immediately. And each time she cried out 'Mulder' he rewarded *her* with a deeper thrust than the one before. Reaching around her body he suddenly felt for her clit with one hand, while the other fumbled for her satin-clad breasts. The combined assaults almost drove Scully mad, and she bucked and thrashed against him like a wild thing. It couldn't last for long - for either of them. With a final massive thrust, he felt himself explode into her, her thrashing ass hammering against his crotch for a few last juddering times, her voice screaming his name almost incoherently.
In the comparative silence that followed, nothing could be heard but their shuddering breaths, as lungs deprived of air demanded jagged satisfaction.
Mulder was still inside Scully, arms wrapped around her waist, body slumped protectively over hers. Her hands remained attached to the desk while her sated body hung in relaxed abandon, swollen breasts gleaming in the dim light. The two of them looked like a classical sculpture of Zeus having just deflowered some ripe and ready maiden. At least that's what Skinner thought as he stood looking at them. He glanced from his favourite two agents, to his own bulging crotch and then back again at the tableau before him. Then he made a decision. He walked into the room silently, then turned and locked the door behind him. It was about to be 'Showtime' indeed.
-end-
"Superficial Contact" By Red Valerian
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
- Part 2/4 -
Disclaimer: As in Part One. They're not mine. I'm breaking the law. This is unadulterated smut. yadda yadda yadda. You get the idea.
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
'Agent Mulder!' barked Skinner's voice, 'If you've quite finished daydreaming, I have some information that might interest you. My office. Ten minutes.' The AD's impassive face gave away nothing, but the tone of voice suggested that this was something important. Important enough for him to make one of his rare descents into the bowels of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Important enough for him to snap out orders to Mulder without ceremony or any regard for the professional or social niceties.
He watched impatiently as Mulder jerked guiltily, then quickly recovered. The younger man immediately nodded his acquiescence, but Skinner had not waited to see it. Instead he'd spun on his heel and left the office as briskly as he had come into it. He paused only slightly to nod curtly at Scully, silently including her too in his summons.
Scully still sat in her chair, holding the innocuous marker pen which had started Mulder's recent erotic musings. He'd really have to get her something less phallic to write with. Hell - who was he kidding? Scully would look erotic munching a carrot. Best not to dwell on it.
Sighing, Mulder tried half-heartedly to drag his mind back out of the gutter where he'd been wallowing for the last twenty minutes. He was almost glad that Skinner had interrupted him when he had. Mulder was faintly horrified and faintly intrigued that his subconscious had invited Skinner to the little party his libido had been throwing for Scully. He wondered what would have happened next? What exactly would Skinner have done? Have said? No time to think about that now though. Duty called. To take his mind of it, he spoke to Scully.
'Hey partner,' he queried, 'why'd you think Skinner came all the way down here in person? He could have been just as insufferably rude and dictatorial on the telephone - right?'
Scully grinned. 'Yeah, but Mulder, then he wouldn't have caught you daydreaming on duty. What on earth *were* you thinking about anyway? You were practically salivating. The words 'fiend' and 'sex' and 'rampant' spring to mind. Not necessarily in that order.' She arched an eyebrow in query, trying to keep her tone light. In fact she felt unaccountably nervous about her partner's recent absent-minded behaviour. He'd been doing it a lot lately. And she had a feeling that she was somehow at the root of it.
Mulder grinned back at her wolfishly, his good intentions forgotten. If she thought she could unnerve him, she had another think coming. Maybe she needed a little lesson to remind her who had the upper hand in this partnership.
'A lady never asks and a gentleman never tells,' he answered suggestively, rising and walking towards her. "And believe me Scully, you don't *want* to know the gory details of my deepest and darkest fantasies. He paused for a moment and then asked....'Or do you?'
Mulder had stopped in front of Scully's chair, looming over her quivering body. She felt rather like a rabbit trapped in headlight beams. What was happening here? The look on Mulder's face told Scully that this was not a subject she dared pursue. Besides, there was something in Mulder's face today. Something which suggested a bear who was tired of being baited, rather than the man she knew and trusted. She shook her head 'no', but even to her the response seemed tentative at best.
Mulder smiled slightly, and held out both of his hands to her. Hesitating, she took them and allowed him to tug her up out of the seat, expecting him to step back as she stood up. Instead, Mulder stood his ground, so that when she was pulled upright she suddenly found herself within kissing distance of his lips. His eyes bored into hers making Scully feel even more uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, and aroused at the same time.
Why didn't he back up and let her step away? Why didn't he let go of her hands? Why didn't he kiss her? Tick all of the above, she thought nervously to herself, and she opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly Mulder leaned towards her left cheek, invading her body space even further. She could feel his breath on her flushed face, and she trembled slightly. Scully froze and waited for the inevitable when she suddenly realised that Mulder was reaching behind her to grab something on her desk. His left cheek actually rested on hers as he groped for the black silk scarf that usually lived on her blotter.
'Don't forget your scarf, Scully', he whispered in her ear, as he leaned away from her at last. 'You never know when it will come in useful.' He arranged the scarf around her neck, pulling it softly around her sensitised skin, and causing her to shiver again. At her involuntary response, Mulder grinned again, then finally stepped away from her, allowing her composure to return.
Scully's shoulders collapsed in relief and she followed her partner out of the door, wondering just what in the hell had happened between them. Whatever it was, it had left her flushed and embarrassed and incredibly turned on. And she had a feeling that Mulder was perfectly aware of that fact. There was something smug in the set of his shoulders and in his cocky walk. She had to admit it. He was winning this game - whatever it was. And for once, she wasn't at all certain that she minded losing.
- end-
'Superficial Contact'
By Red Valerian
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
- Part 3/4 -
Disclaimer: As in Part One. They're not mine. I'm breaking the law. This is unadulterated smut. yadda yadda yadda. You get the idea.
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
A few minutes found them standing outside the AD's office. In unison they rapped on the door - then together they reached for the knob. Mulder got there first, and pushed open the door with a flourish. As Scully felt his hand at the small of her back, firmly propelling her into the room, she found herself wondering when everything had turned into a contest. She felt rather like a schoolgirl being called into the principal's office. A schoolgirl who had done nothing wrong herself, but one who was being led astray by her completely unsuitable new friend. There was that same sense of foreboding. That same fear that someone might tell her she'd have to find a new playmate. Glancing at Mulder, she thought she rather liked the one she'd already got.
Skinner sat behind his desk staring as the two agents walked over and sat themselves across from him. The bare expanse of his huge mahogany desk kept them at an appropriate distance - and his glasses were a further barrier to relaxation. In the gloom of the room, any faint light turned the lenses into silvered disks which hid the AD from view. He may as well have been wearing a mask.
The silence stretched uncomfortably until finally Skinner seemed to brace himself. He then began to speak.
'You two may not be aware of this fact, but you have been under investigation for several months. The results of that investigation have just been made known to me. I have them here.'
As he spoke he drew a fat manila envelope out of his desk drawer and lay on carefully on the desk. He handled it as if it contained something very explosive. Or perhaps something very unpleasant. It was hard to tell. His next words settled the matter.
As soon as Mulder heard the phrase, 'expense account' he knew that they had nothing to worry about. Who the hell cared, anyway? He'd let Scully handle the AD's questions and just pretend to listen. He was quite good at pretending. He'd been doing it most of his life.
As the AD barked a predictable series of questions, Mulder listened with only half an ear. He found himself staring hard at Skinner, and looking at him in a different light. Skinner did not present himself to the world as a sexual being. Far from it. He seemed more like an automaton - but one with a molten core. Mulder found himself wondering what lay behind the steel rimmed glasses. Beneath the starched white shirt. He glanced from Skinner's face to Scully's, and suddenly he remembered where he'd got to in his recent fantasy.
That's right. He'd been curved over Scully's sated body, when his imagination had introduced Skinner to the scenario. The AD had just entered the 'crime scene' and locked the door behind him. His crotch bulged invitingly. What would he have done next? What would he have said?
A part of Mulder's mind knew exactly what the AD would say and do, should he ever come upon so unlikely a circumstance as his two favourite agents in flagrante delicto. He'd order them to get dressed and boot them out of the service. Without a backward glance. Without ceremony. No quarter asked or given.
But this was a fantasy. And anything could happen in a fantasy, couldn't it? So Mulder let his immediate supervisor carry on cross-examining Scully, while he retired to a better place. A place from which he had been so rudely interrupted a half an hour before. How had it gone? Oh yes.........
Skinner glanced from his favourite two agents, to his own bulging crotch and then back again at the tableau before him. Then he made a decision. He walked into the room silently, then turned and locked the door behind him. It was about to be 'Showtime' indeed.
- end-
'Superficial Contact' By Red Valerian
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
- Part 4/4 -
Disclaimer: As in Part One. They're not mine. I'm breaking the law. This is unadulterated smut. yadda yadda yadda. You get the idea.
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
..................................................
Skinner glanced from his favourite two agents, to his own bulging crotch and then back again at the tableau before him. Then he made a decision. He walked into the room silently, then turned and locked the door behind him. It was about to be 'Showtime' indeed.
He walked calmly up to the two figures and cleared his throat. Two heads turned to look at the unexpected noise. Two faces registered first confusion, then comprehension, then horror. Pure unadulterated horror. Skinner almost smiled. Almost.
Instead he fell back on his usual form of communication. Issuing orders.
'Agent Mulder, would you have the goodness to remove yourself from Agent Scully.' There was just the hint of a sneer in his tone.
When there was no immediate response, he raised his voice slightly.
'Now!' he barked. Skinner stood staring at them, with his arms crossed over his rigid chest.
At the shouted second order, Mulder had automatically jerked away from Scully, his now flaccid penis inadvertently slipping out of her inviting warmth. A trail of semen dripped from her vaginal lips and began to run down her inner thigh. Horrified at actions which left Scully totally exposed to Skinner's steely gaze, Mulder quickly pulled his partner's skirt down to cover the evidence of their recent passion. Only then did he stand up himself, pulling up his trousers in one graceful move. He and Skinner then stared at each other for a timeless moment. Scully stayed on the floor between them, hanging her head in embarrassment. She had however, freed her hands from the sham confinement of the black silk scarf. It lay on the floor at her feet, looking like a coiled snake or a question mark. It all depended on your point of view.
Skinner finally broke the silence.
'Well?' he asked in a voice dripping with formic acid. 'Have you two got anything to say for yourselves? Anything at all?'
..................................................
'WELL? HAVE YOU TWO GOT *ANYTHING* TO SAY FOR YOURSELVES? ANYTHING AT ALL?'
A startled Mulder jerked guiltily. Again. He'd really have to stop doing that. The very real voice of Assistant Director Skinner had once more intruded into what was turning into quite an interesting fantasy. Nevermind that the Scully in his fantasies didn't say a lot - while the flesh and blood one next to him never seemed to stop talking. To look at they were twins, and that was good enough for Mulder. After all, the fantasy Skinner also looked and spoke exactly like the one glaring at him from across that sea of cool mahogany. But the fantasy Skinner's body reacted in an altogether more interesting way. 'The great stone face with the bulging crotch' thought Mulder with a faint grin. Doing something about *that* was still very much a part of Mulder's fantasy agenda. He just wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next. He'd need to give it some more thought. Not right now, however. Now he'd have to excuse himself and get out of there asap. Before either his partner or his boss noticed *his* bulging crotch.
The AD's voice was speaking again, but not to him.
'Agent Scully, thank you for your clarification of the anomalies in this report. You can go.' The impassive face nodded in her direction. Or rather, the gleaming lenses did.
As both agents stood up, Skinner's voice interrupted Mulder for the third time that evening.
'I said that Agent Scully could go, Agent Mulder. I'd like a further word with you. Sit down please.'
He said 'please' but there was clearly to be no choice in the matter. Mulder cast a despairing eye towards Scully's retreating back, and then turned again to face the metaphorical music as the door finally snicked closed behind him.
What he saw caused his face to blanche and his groin to throb even more. Assistant Director Walter Skinner had stood up was leaning over that sea of mahogany with his hands planted firmly in front of him on the desk. This put his crotch exactly at Mulder's eye level. And what Mulder saw there was the unmistakable bulge which had been inhabiting his fantasies for several hours. But this one was real. This one was enormous. And this one seemed to be aimed right at his face.
'Well Agent Mulder,' the AD's voice hissed. 'I've heard Agent Scully's explanations. What have you got to say for yourself?'
Mulder had only ever had one pet in his life. It had been a small boa constrictor that he'd bought because if seemed like a cool thing to own. Well - he had only been 15 at the time. The man in the pet shop had informed him that it would only eat live mice, but he was also assured that the snake only needed feeding once a month. It had just been fed so he wouldn't have to worry for a while.
The month had soon run its course, however. And so Mulder had reluctantly gone out and bought a live mouse for the hungry constrictor. He'd dropped it into the aquarium housing his snake, and then found himself watching in fascination. The snake had been coiled lethargically in one end of the glass tank, and initially it seemed to take no notice of the mouse that had invaded its domain. Initially. The mouse scampered about from one end of the tank to the other, in blissful ignorance of its probable fate. It once even ran over the snake's head.
Then finally, when the mouse and snake were at opposite ends of the tank, the boa struck. Savagely. With the speed of a bullet. There was just a black streak shooting form one side of the tank to the other, a high pitched scream and then blood. Lots and lots of blood.
As Mulder stared at Skinner, he suddenly knew just how that mouse had felt. Even as the thought entered his mind, the AD's right hand whipped out and caught him by the back of the neck. He was yanked towards Skinner's face before he could even think of objecting. The man's power was unmistakable and overwhelming. His fingers grasped Mulder's skull, and the younger man felt like he was trapped in the jaws of a vice.
Their faces were now so close together that Mulder was unable to focus properly. Skinner's eyes *were* the universe and Mulder felt like he was staring into an abyss. Where had his glasses gone? Christ this was terrifying. And thrilling. He had a feeling closely resembling vertigo. No - that was wrong. It was exactly like vertigo. There was the same sickening churning in his stomach. The same prickling of the hairs at the nape of is neck. The same mixture of fear and an almost morbid anticipation.
'Agent Mulder,' the AD whispered, his cool breath chilling Mulder's hot face. 'You're really pissing me off. Get your mind out of the gutter where its been rutting and get yourself back on the job. Otherwise I might just have to do something about our mutual problem. Do we understand each other?'
Mulder nodded as well as he was able, with his head trapped in that massive grasp. There could be no doubt as to what 'mutual problem' the AD was referring. Mulder's erection had leapt forward a notch at the bare suggestion that his feelings were being reciprocated. But this was a new experience for him. Until today he'd been certain he was a geometrically straight, card-carrying, practising heterosexual. Practising might be an exaggeration - he didn't get much opportunity, that was for sure. It was more like a solo act starring himself and a fantasy subservient Scully. Or himself and one of the stars of the many porn films clogging up his apartment. In all his life he'd never so much as had a fleeting fantasy involving another man. Still hadn't, in fact. 'But only because Skinner keeps interrupting you', honesty forced him to admit to himself.
Now he was suddenly aware that the fantasy he hadn't quite indulged in was a rock hard reality easily within his grasp. The phrase 'rock hard' being particularly appropriate at this precise moment. As was the phrase 'within his grasp' for that matter.
Before he could change his mind, Mulder decided to act on impulse.
'I can think of much better places for you to put your hands sir,' he heard himself murmuring. He then closed his eyes and allowed his lips to come into contact with the AD's while his left hand drifted downwards towards the tantalising bulge that had been haunting him for several hours.
Just as his fingers brushed the cloth of Skinner's expensively cut suit trousers, he felt the AD grip his questing wrist. Mulder was now effectively immobilised by his boss. The back of his head was still being gripped by Skinner's left hand, while the AD gripped Mulder's wrist with his right. Skinner then pulled his head back slightly so that Mulder could focus on his face once more.
'That will do for now, Agent Mulder. We'll continue this party later. At my apartment. I'll expect you there in an hour.'
There was no arguing with that tone of voice, or with that uncompromising expression. Feeling that he'd been somehow given a death row reprieve, Mulder slipped away from the AD's grasp and began to back towards the door, eyes glued to the older man. Finally he broke contact and turned to leave. Then for one final time, Skinner called his attention back.
'Oh - and Agent Mulder?'
Mulder hesitated with his hand still on the doorknob. His frozen stance invited the AD to continue, but he refused to make eye contact again. He was afraid to, if the truth were told. Skinner humoured him, and in a voice as smooth and unruffled as watered silk, he finally spoke.
'You won't forget to bring Agent Scully with you, will you? I look forward to seeing you both. And you can consider that an order'
- end -
Well that's it folks. Remember the title and the Chamfort quotation? 'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies.' Accent on the word 'SUPERFICIAL'. Mulder brushes Scully's cheek. Skinner grips Mulder's wrist. Eyes meet. Fantasies are exchanged. I think that's enough, don't you?
Author - Red Valerian
E-Mail address - redvalerian@gmail.com
Rating - NC17
Category - Story/Romance - subcategory: Mulder/Scully-ish - Skinner/Scully/Mulder nearly - Skinner/Mulder almost (I live to tease)
Spoilers - none
Keywords - smut, smut and more smut
Summary - Mulder is about to discover the difference between reality and fantasy. So is Scully. So is Skinner. So are we.
Archive at will. Pretty please.
NB: The first part of this 'opus' was posted some time ago on Bobbi's erotica site. This contains the concluding chapters, as well as a reposting of the initial one. Hope it's OK to do it this way.
Part One: Our hero finally succumbs to his wildest fantasies concerning you know who. Part Two: Power games between M & S Part Three: More fantasies - starring Mulder, Skinner and Scully this time - well, almost Part Four: Slash - Skinner/Mulder - well practically
Standard disclaimer - they're not mine, they belong to Chris/Il Duce. Or Fox or 10-13 or someone. Not me anyway. I'm just manipulating them shamelessly like everyone else. Who knew it would be such fun?
'Superficial Contact' By Red Valerian
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
- Part 1/4 -
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
Scully was bent over a notepad, carefully highlighting sentences with a fat red marker pen - her glasses pushed onto the end of her nose so that she could look up over them more easily if she wanted a word with her partner. As usual it was very late at night, and they had the office - if not the whole building, to themselves. Each sat insulated in the small pool of light thrown by their respective desk lamps. The light cast shadows on their faces, making them both look isolated and alone. And rather vulnerable.
So far Scully hadn't needed to ask him anything. Mulder watched her surreptitiously from his desk, while he was apparently engaged in an identical task. He couldn't concentrate, however. It was her fault. Sort of. Mulder couldn't imagine anything more erotic than Scully was at this precise moment - lids veiling the startlingly blue eyes; lips pursed in thought as she sucked on the end of the phallic-shaped pen; her open-necked blouse showing a hint of creamy skin tinged with pink; her nipples just visible through the sheer fabric. At least to his imagination.
Christ. How he wanted to get up, go over to her, throw the notepad down and kiss her. To substitute something else for that pen. Something else altogether more appropriate for those lips to suck. Suddenly she swivelled her chair away from him and bent back over her desk, writing furiously on the notepad. Now he could only see her slender back, and the tender nape of her neck. He longed to jump up and kiss the sweet flesh he could see there; to nibble her ear lobes; to bury his face in her hair. Instead, he willed her to turn back and face him again but she remained maddeningly involved in her work.
Mulder was being driven insane by her presence, and a part of him felt like she knew exactly what effect she had on him and revelled in it. The more rational part of what was left of his brain realised that she probably had no idea of her power. But he couldn't decide. Every time he tried to think about it logically, he got a mental picture of Scully's hair spread out on a pillow under his thrusting body - her eyes glazed in passion, gentle moans escaping from her open full lips as she pleaded with him for 'more'. He looked down and saw that his erection would be completely visible if he stood up.
Now there was a thought.
He imagined rising from his chair, and walking over to Scully's desk. He'd stand silently behind her. She'd take no notice of course, being so engrossed in her task - so he'd have to call attention to himself.
'Scully', he'd say huskily. "I have something to show you.' After all, Scully was a scientist, who always wanted to examine evidence. He'd show her some evidence now. About nine inches of it. He'd lean over and put his hands on either side of her shoulders and begin kneading her tense neck muscles.
'Ooohhh - that's lovely, Mulder' she would murmur, innocently leaning back against him. As she did so her head would burrow into his crotch - and she'd inadvertently begin to rub herself against his growing erection. Suddenly she'd freeze - as she realised just what she was leaning against. Before she could pull away, Mulder would spin her swivel chair around so that her mouth was level with his bulging fly. And then she'd...she'd...she'd.....what?
That was just about as far as his fantasy went. He couldn't quite imagine her reaction should he ever do anything so rash. But he couldn't stop wondering and dreaming about it. The fear and doubt may have kept him in his seat but the possibilites were occupying his every waking moment and most of his sleeping ones.
Mulder was so involved with his internal musings, that he'd failed to notice that Scully had turned back in his direction and was staring at him with concern.
'Mulder? What's the matter?'
Scully's sympathetic tones brought him to his senses and Mulder had the grace to blush. He then spun away from her, muttering something incomprehensible. Suddenly he didn't want her to see his erection - to suspect his lascivious yearnings. God - he was pathetic. She was his colleague - his friend. His best friend. And here he was having these perverted cravings about her. He hated himself.
But even as he thought the words he found himself continuing the interrupted fantasy. Almost against his will and reason, the images filled his mind again. And this time they weren't going to be cut short. A part of him was angry with Scully for catching him out, even though he knew it was illogical. This anger and four years of sexual frustration started to spill over into the fantasy. Those videos he watched may have influenced the scenario but the truth was, Scully needed to be punished for all the torment she was putting him through...didn't she?
Now - where had he been? Oh yes.....
He'd be standing behind her chair, massaging her shoulders. She'd lean innocently against his erection, and gently rub her head into his crotch. He'd spin her chair around so that her mouth was level with his bulging fly. And then.....and then...
..................................................
Mulder looked down at the copper-coloured hair, only daring to speak because she hadn't yet looked up at him. She seemed transfixed by the growing bulge in his trousers.
'So now you know how I feel about you, Scully,' he whispered throatily. 'What are you going to do about it?'
As he asked the question, he kept his hands on her shoulders, gripping her like a vice. There was a tense moment of frozen silence, and then Scully did what he had hoped, dreamed and prayed she would do. She reached out and unzipped his suit trousers, and then delved into his silk boxers to free his swollen member. There was almost a reverence in the way she handled his massive cock - her hands looking like those of a child in comparison to its length and breadth. She tentatively moved her fingers along its frightening length, before bending quickly to kiss the tip with her full lips. Lips made for fellatio, as Mulder had often thought. Not today, however. Today he wanted to be in her cunt, not her mouth. That could come later.
He saw that Scully was mesmerised and took advantage of the situation. He knew that if he spoke too soon, the spell would be broken, so he'd let his hands guide Scully into the position he wanted her to be in. On her knees. Facing away from him. Fully dressed except for panties, which he intended to remove himself. For all his supposed stance as a renaissance man - in his heart Mulder know that what he really wanted to do was fuck Scully like a dog fucks a bitch. To make her scream for more. To make her beg. Maybe he was motivated by the need to make her suffer just as he'd been suffering since they had known each other? Maybe it was just a 'guy' thing. Who knew his reasons? Who cared? He was surprised himself at his aggressive desire to scare her a little, even while he gave her pleasure. Fear is an aphrodisiac, after all.
It was working. Scully was a little frightened at his extended silence. She looked up at him uncertainly and opened her mouth to speak. Mulder silenced her by putting his finger to his lips. Then he took the black silk scarf which was lying discarded on Scully's desk, and carefully used it to loosely tie her wrists together. Scully's eyes widened, but she didn't try to stand up or ask him what he was doing. In fact, he could now smell her arousal. It was making his cock even harder, if that were possible.
'Get down on the floor Scully,' he whispered 'and hold out your hands.'
She did exactly as she was told, and Mulder, after gently turning her away from him, took her slender silk-bound wrists and hooked them over the protruding knob of the central drawer of her desk. She was now in a position of absolute submission - apparently powerless before him, although at any time she could ask him for mercy. She could ask him to stop. He willed her to remain silent however, and thanked god when she did.
Growing more confident, Mulder guided her into a kneeling position, then lifted her ass into the air. Turning up her skirt, he gazed in rapture at her satin clad cunt. There was already a damp patch on the panties, which was spreading even as he watched. He leant forward and kissed her on the spot, then he took scissors from the desk and cut off the panties, letting them fall onto the floor. He then spread her legs slightly, and admired his handiwork. Scully faced away from him now, her ass invitingly in the air, her cunt lips glistening and beginning to ooze a creamy liquid which was driving him wild. Because of her position, she looked exactly like a little girl saying her prayers. Well, this little girl would soon be getting exactly what she so clearly wanted.
'Hey Scully' murmured Mulder, as he sank to his knees behind her."Hey - let me hear you groan. If you want me inside you, you're going to have to let me know you want it"
Obediently, she groaned - a guttural sound that caused Mulder to grin triumphantly. He was taking a perverse pleasure in humiliating her. He hadn't realised just how much he had been blaming her for his sexual frustrations. Still, she obviously loved this. Her cunt was actually dripping now. He reached out a tentative finger and wiped some of the ooze away, immediatley afterwards putting the finger to his lips. He sucked her juices avidly. At the first feel of his finger, Scully had bucked in the air, and begun to whimper wildly - trying to push her cunt onto the finger - desperate to be entered. She turned her face back towards him, her blue eyes pleading - but still she said not a word.
Mulder laughed. 'Not yet Scully! Be patient - that was just my finger. I've got something much nicer for you. Do you want it?' She began to groan and thrash her bottom like a cat in heat. This was exactly what he wanted. He'd put her out of her misery now - it was the least she deserved. Well...in a minute he would. He just had to taste her properly before he entered her.
He placed his massive hands on her rosy ass cheeks and spread them apart. Then leaning forward, he began to flick her vaginal opening with his tongue - tormenting and tickling her at the same time as giving her pleasure. She began to squirm and whimper in a way not to be borne for long. Mulder could not resist, anyway. He covered her whole cunt area with one final, long, slow, lick - then leaned back on his haunches to ready himself for the assault.
Taking his massive prick in his hand, he touched the tip to Scully's slick but tiny vaginal opening. It gleamed with a tantalising blend of his saliva and her juices. Gently he prodded the entrance, and was rewarded with Scully squirming in rapture. He decided to torture her just a little more. Taking one of her ass cheeks in each hand again, he used his thumbs to part her cunt lips, so that the opening was more accessible. Then he again pressed his cock to the opening, this time inserting it in agonising slowness, until the entire head was inside her. Just the head - no more. He then removed it and reinserted it several times in a few quick thrusts, all the while holding her ass cheeks apart. The sight of his cock head disappearing into her tight little fissure was entrancing. He couldn't bring himself to stop. He punctuated each tiny stroke with a gasped question.
'Do... you ...like... this... Scully? .....Do... you... want... more? ..... Do you want me to.... fuck you properly?.....Beg.. me ...for... it, Agent ...Scully! Beg... me!'
She did what she could by whimpering and thrashing her adorable little bottom, trying desperately to push back against him so that he would have to enter her fully. However, her tied hands and her awkward position made it impossible for her to take any control of the situation. Mulder had all the power, and this was exactly how he wanted it for the moment. However, he could no longer restrain his own desire, even though torturing Scully a bit more would have been more of a turn-on. He decided it was time to put them both out of their respective miseries.
Still parting her cheeks, he suddenly froze with his cock head inside Scully. This time instead of pulling it out, he slowly pushed it into her throbbing cunt, watching as it disappeared inch by inch inside her. He couldn't believe how erotic this was - not just being in Scully's cunt, but watching himself disappear inside her, and hearing her hiss of pleasure. Finally his whole length was inside her, and he could feel his balls resting against her warm moist crotch. He let her cheeks go then, and repositioned his hands on her hips. She fitted him like a surgeon's latex gloves. Scully and latex? Where had that thought come from? Shaking his head, he bent forward.
'It's showtime, Scully,' he whispered, as he began to thrust himself in and out of her tight, slick cunt, using his hands to yank her body towards his as he ploughed into her from behind. Suddenly he wanted to hear her properly, and decided to tell her so.
'Speak to me Scully,' he gasped, between thrusts. 'Speak to me now!' He hoped to hear her screaming his name, and she rewarded him immediately. And each time she cried out 'Mulder' he rewarded *her* with a deeper thrust than the one before. Reaching around her body he suddenly felt for her clit with one hand, while the other fumbled for her satin-clad breasts. The combined assaults almost drove Scully mad, and she bucked and thrashed against him like a wild thing. It couldn't last for long - for either of them. With a final massive thrust, he felt himself explode into her, her thrashing ass hammering against his crotch for a few last juddering times, her voice screaming his name almost incoherently.
In the comparative silence that followed, nothing could be heard but their shuddering breaths, as lungs deprived of air demanded jagged satisfaction.
Mulder was still inside Scully, arms wrapped around her waist, body slumped protectively over hers. Her hands remained attached to the desk while her sated body hung in relaxed abandon, swollen breasts gleaming in the dim light. The two of them looked like a classical sculpture of Zeus having just deflowered some ripe and ready maiden. At least that's what Skinner thought as he stood looking at them. He glanced from his favourite two agents, to his own bulging crotch and then back again at the tableau before him. Then he made a decision. He walked into the room silently, then turned and locked the door behind him. It was about to be 'Showtime' indeed.
-end-
"Superficial Contact" By Red Valerian
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
- Part 2/4 -
Disclaimer: As in Part One. They're not mine. I'm breaking the law. This is unadulterated smut. yadda yadda yadda. You get the idea.
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
'Agent Mulder!' barked Skinner's voice, 'If you've quite finished daydreaming, I have some information that might interest you. My office. Ten minutes.' The AD's impassive face gave away nothing, but the tone of voice suggested that this was something important. Important enough for him to make one of his rare descents into the bowels of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Important enough for him to snap out orders to Mulder without ceremony or any regard for the professional or social niceties.
He watched impatiently as Mulder jerked guiltily, then quickly recovered. The younger man immediately nodded his acquiescence, but Skinner had not waited to see it. Instead he'd spun on his heel and left the office as briskly as he had come into it. He paused only slightly to nod curtly at Scully, silently including her too in his summons.
Scully still sat in her chair, holding the innocuous marker pen which had started Mulder's recent erotic musings. He'd really have to get her something less phallic to write with. Hell - who was he kidding? Scully would look erotic munching a carrot. Best not to dwell on it.
Sighing, Mulder tried half-heartedly to drag his mind back out of the gutter where he'd been wallowing for the last twenty minutes. He was almost glad that Skinner had interrupted him when he had. Mulder was faintly horrified and faintly intrigued that his subconscious had invited Skinner to the little party his libido had been throwing for Scully. He wondered what would have happened next? What exactly would Skinner have done? Have said? No time to think about that now though. Duty called. To take his mind of it, he spoke to Scully.
'Hey partner,' he queried, 'why'd you think Skinner came all the way down here in person? He could have been just as insufferably rude and dictatorial on the telephone - right?'
Scully grinned. 'Yeah, but Mulder, then he wouldn't have caught you daydreaming on duty. What on earth *were* you thinking about anyway? You were practically salivating. The words 'fiend' and 'sex' and 'rampant' spring to mind. Not necessarily in that order.' She arched an eyebrow in query, trying to keep her tone light. In fact she felt unaccountably nervous about her partner's recent absent-minded behaviour. He'd been doing it a lot lately. And she had a feeling that she was somehow at the root of it.
Mulder grinned back at her wolfishly, his good intentions forgotten. If she thought she could unnerve him, she had another think coming. Maybe she needed a little lesson to remind her who had the upper hand in this partnership.
'A lady never asks and a gentleman never tells,' he answered suggestively, rising and walking towards her. "And believe me Scully, you don't *want* to know the gory details of my deepest and darkest fantasies. He paused for a moment and then asked....'Or do you?'
Mulder had stopped in front of Scully's chair, looming over her quivering body. She felt rather like a rabbit trapped in headlight beams. What was happening here? The look on Mulder's face told Scully that this was not a subject she dared pursue. Besides, there was something in Mulder's face today. Something which suggested a bear who was tired of being baited, rather than the man she knew and trusted. She shook her head 'no', but even to her the response seemed tentative at best.
Mulder smiled slightly, and held out both of his hands to her. Hesitating, she took them and allowed him to tug her up out of the seat, expecting him to step back as she stood up. Instead, Mulder stood his ground, so that when she was pulled upright she suddenly found herself within kissing distance of his lips. His eyes bored into hers making Scully feel even more uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, and aroused at the same time.
Why didn't he back up and let her step away? Why didn't he let go of her hands? Why didn't he kiss her? Tick all of the above, she thought nervously to herself, and she opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly Mulder leaned towards her left cheek, invading her body space even further. She could feel his breath on her flushed face, and she trembled slightly. Scully froze and waited for the inevitable when she suddenly realised that Mulder was reaching behind her to grab something on her desk. His left cheek actually rested on hers as he groped for the black silk scarf that usually lived on her blotter.
'Don't forget your scarf, Scully', he whispered in her ear, as he leaned away from her at last. 'You never know when it will come in useful.' He arranged the scarf around her neck, pulling it softly around her sensitised skin, and causing her to shiver again. At her involuntary response, Mulder grinned again, then finally stepped away from her, allowing her composure to return.
Scully's shoulders collapsed in relief and she followed her partner out of the door, wondering just what in the hell had happened between them. Whatever it was, it had left her flushed and embarrassed and incredibly turned on. And she had a feeling that Mulder was perfectly aware of that fact. There was something smug in the set of his shoulders and in his cocky walk. She had to admit it. He was winning this game - whatever it was. And for once, she wasn't at all certain that she minded losing.
- end-
'Superficial Contact'
By Red Valerian
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
- Part 3/4 -
Disclaimer: As in Part One. They're not mine. I'm breaking the law. This is unadulterated smut. yadda yadda yadda. You get the idea.
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
A few minutes found them standing outside the AD's office. In unison they rapped on the door - then together they reached for the knob. Mulder got there first, and pushed open the door with a flourish. As Scully felt his hand at the small of her back, firmly propelling her into the room, she found herself wondering when everything had turned into a contest. She felt rather like a schoolgirl being called into the principal's office. A schoolgirl who had done nothing wrong herself, but one who was being led astray by her completely unsuitable new friend. There was that same sense of foreboding. That same fear that someone might tell her she'd have to find a new playmate. Glancing at Mulder, she thought she rather liked the one she'd already got.
Skinner sat behind his desk staring as the two agents walked over and sat themselves across from him. The bare expanse of his huge mahogany desk kept them at an appropriate distance - and his glasses were a further barrier to relaxation. In the gloom of the room, any faint light turned the lenses into silvered disks which hid the AD from view. He may as well have been wearing a mask.
The silence stretched uncomfortably until finally Skinner seemed to brace himself. He then began to speak.
'You two may not be aware of this fact, but you have been under investigation for several months. The results of that investigation have just been made known to me. I have them here.'
As he spoke he drew a fat manila envelope out of his desk drawer and lay on carefully on the desk. He handled it as if it contained something very explosive. Or perhaps something very unpleasant. It was hard to tell. His next words settled the matter.
As soon as Mulder heard the phrase, 'expense account' he knew that they had nothing to worry about. Who the hell cared, anyway? He'd let Scully handle the AD's questions and just pretend to listen. He was quite good at pretending. He'd been doing it most of his life.
As the AD barked a predictable series of questions, Mulder listened with only half an ear. He found himself staring hard at Skinner, and looking at him in a different light. Skinner did not present himself to the world as a sexual being. Far from it. He seemed more like an automaton - but one with a molten core. Mulder found himself wondering what lay behind the steel rimmed glasses. Beneath the starched white shirt. He glanced from Skinner's face to Scully's, and suddenly he remembered where he'd got to in his recent fantasy.
That's right. He'd been curved over Scully's sated body, when his imagination had introduced Skinner to the scenario. The AD had just entered the 'crime scene' and locked the door behind him. His crotch bulged invitingly. What would he have done next? What would he have said?
A part of Mulder's mind knew exactly what the AD would say and do, should he ever come upon so unlikely a circumstance as his two favourite agents in flagrante delicto. He'd order them to get dressed and boot them out of the service. Without a backward glance. Without ceremony. No quarter asked or given.
But this was a fantasy. And anything could happen in a fantasy, couldn't it? So Mulder let his immediate supervisor carry on cross-examining Scully, while he retired to a better place. A place from which he had been so rudely interrupted a half an hour before. How had it gone? Oh yes.........
Skinner glanced from his favourite two agents, to his own bulging crotch and then back again at the tableau before him. Then he made a decision. He walked into the room silently, then turned and locked the door behind him. It was about to be 'Showtime' indeed.
- end-
'Superficial Contact' By Red Valerian
'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies' Nicolas-Sebastien Chamfort (1741-1794)
- Part 4/4 -
Disclaimer: As in Part One. They're not mine. I'm breaking the law. This is unadulterated smut. yadda yadda yadda. You get the idea.
'Attention on deck - NC17 off the starboard bow.'
..................................................
Skinner glanced from his favourite two agents, to his own bulging crotch and then back again at the tableau before him. Then he made a decision. He walked into the room silently, then turned and locked the door behind him. It was about to be 'Showtime' indeed.
He walked calmly up to the two figures and cleared his throat. Two heads turned to look at the unexpected noise. Two faces registered first confusion, then comprehension, then horror. Pure unadulterated horror. Skinner almost smiled. Almost.
Instead he fell back on his usual form of communication. Issuing orders.
'Agent Mulder, would you have the goodness to remove yourself from Agent Scully.' There was just the hint of a sneer in his tone.
When there was no immediate response, he raised his voice slightly.
'Now!' he barked. Skinner stood staring at them, with his arms crossed over his rigid chest.
At the shouted second order, Mulder had automatically jerked away from Scully, his now flaccid penis inadvertently slipping out of her inviting warmth. A trail of semen dripped from her vaginal lips and began to run down her inner thigh. Horrified at actions which left Scully totally exposed to Skinner's steely gaze, Mulder quickly pulled his partner's skirt down to cover the evidence of their recent passion. Only then did he stand up himself, pulling up his trousers in one graceful move. He and Skinner then stared at each other for a timeless moment. Scully stayed on the floor between them, hanging her head in embarrassment. She had however, freed her hands from the sham confinement of the black silk scarf. It lay on the floor at her feet, looking like a coiled snake or a question mark. It all depended on your point of view.
Skinner finally broke the silence.
'Well?' he asked in a voice dripping with formic acid. 'Have you two got anything to say for yourselves? Anything at all?'
..................................................
'WELL? HAVE YOU TWO GOT *ANYTHING* TO SAY FOR YOURSELVES? ANYTHING AT ALL?'
A startled Mulder jerked guiltily. Again. He'd really have to stop doing that. The very real voice of Assistant Director Skinner had once more intruded into what was turning into quite an interesting fantasy. Nevermind that the Scully in his fantasies didn't say a lot - while the flesh and blood one next to him never seemed to stop talking. To look at they were twins, and that was good enough for Mulder. After all, the fantasy Skinner also looked and spoke exactly like the one glaring at him from across that sea of cool mahogany. But the fantasy Skinner's body reacted in an altogether more interesting way. 'The great stone face with the bulging crotch' thought Mulder with a faint grin. Doing something about *that* was still very much a part of Mulder's fantasy agenda. He just wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next. He'd need to give it some more thought. Not right now, however. Now he'd have to excuse himself and get out of there asap. Before either his partner or his boss noticed *his* bulging crotch.
The AD's voice was speaking again, but not to him.
'Agent Scully, thank you for your clarification of the anomalies in this report. You can go.' The impassive face nodded in her direction. Or rather, the gleaming lenses did.
As both agents stood up, Skinner's voice interrupted Mulder for the third time that evening.
'I said that Agent Scully could go, Agent Mulder. I'd like a further word with you. Sit down please.'
He said 'please' but there was clearly to be no choice in the matter. Mulder cast a despairing eye towards Scully's retreating back, and then turned again to face the metaphorical music as the door finally snicked closed behind him.
What he saw caused his face to blanche and his groin to throb even more. Assistant Director Walter Skinner had stood up was leaning over that sea of mahogany with his hands planted firmly in front of him on the desk. This put his crotch exactly at Mulder's eye level. And what Mulder saw there was the unmistakable bulge which had been inhabiting his fantasies for several hours. But this one was real. This one was enormous. And this one seemed to be aimed right at his face.
'Well Agent Mulder,' the AD's voice hissed. 'I've heard Agent Scully's explanations. What have you got to say for yourself?'
Mulder had only ever had one pet in his life. It had been a small boa constrictor that he'd bought because if seemed like a cool thing to own. Well - he had only been 15 at the time. The man in the pet shop had informed him that it would only eat live mice, but he was also assured that the snake only needed feeding once a month. It had just been fed so he wouldn't have to worry for a while.
The month had soon run its course, however. And so Mulder had reluctantly gone out and bought a live mouse for the hungry constrictor. He'd dropped it into the aquarium housing his snake, and then found himself watching in fascination. The snake had been coiled lethargically in one end of the glass tank, and initially it seemed to take no notice of the mouse that had invaded its domain. Initially. The mouse scampered about from one end of the tank to the other, in blissful ignorance of its probable fate. It once even ran over the snake's head.
Then finally, when the mouse and snake were at opposite ends of the tank, the boa struck. Savagely. With the speed of a bullet. There was just a black streak shooting form one side of the tank to the other, a high pitched scream and then blood. Lots and lots of blood.
As Mulder stared at Skinner, he suddenly knew just how that mouse had felt. Even as the thought entered his mind, the AD's right hand whipped out and caught him by the back of the neck. He was yanked towards Skinner's face before he could even think of objecting. The man's power was unmistakable and overwhelming. His fingers grasped Mulder's skull, and the younger man felt like he was trapped in the jaws of a vice.
Their faces were now so close together that Mulder was unable to focus properly. Skinner's eyes *were* the universe and Mulder felt like he was staring into an abyss. Where had his glasses gone? Christ this was terrifying. And thrilling. He had a feeling closely resembling vertigo. No - that was wrong. It was exactly like vertigo. There was the same sickening churning in his stomach. The same prickling of the hairs at the nape of is neck. The same mixture of fear and an almost morbid anticipation.
'Agent Mulder,' the AD whispered, his cool breath chilling Mulder's hot face. 'You're really pissing me off. Get your mind out of the gutter where its been rutting and get yourself back on the job. Otherwise I might just have to do something about our mutual problem. Do we understand each other?'
Mulder nodded as well as he was able, with his head trapped in that massive grasp. There could be no doubt as to what 'mutual problem' the AD was referring. Mulder's erection had leapt forward a notch at the bare suggestion that his feelings were being reciprocated. But this was a new experience for him. Until today he'd been certain he was a geometrically straight, card-carrying, practising heterosexual. Practising might be an exaggeration - he didn't get much opportunity, that was for sure. It was more like a solo act starring himself and a fantasy subservient Scully. Or himself and one of the stars of the many porn films clogging up his apartment. In all his life he'd never so much as had a fleeting fantasy involving another man. Still hadn't, in fact. 'But only because Skinner keeps interrupting you', honesty forced him to admit to himself.
Now he was suddenly aware that the fantasy he hadn't quite indulged in was a rock hard reality easily within his grasp. The phrase 'rock hard' being particularly appropriate at this precise moment. As was the phrase 'within his grasp' for that matter.
Before he could change his mind, Mulder decided to act on impulse.
'I can think of much better places for you to put your hands sir,' he heard himself murmuring. He then closed his eyes and allowed his lips to come into contact with the AD's while his left hand drifted downwards towards the tantalising bulge that had been haunting him for several hours.
Just as his fingers brushed the cloth of Skinner's expensively cut suit trousers, he felt the AD grip his questing wrist. Mulder was now effectively immobilised by his boss. The back of his head was still being gripped by Skinner's left hand, while the AD gripped Mulder's wrist with his right. Skinner then pulled his head back slightly so that Mulder could focus on his face once more.
'That will do for now, Agent Mulder. We'll continue this party later. At my apartment. I'll expect you there in an hour.'
There was no arguing with that tone of voice, or with that uncompromising expression. Feeling that he'd been somehow given a death row reprieve, Mulder slipped away from the AD's grasp and began to back towards the door, eyes glued to the older man. Finally he broke contact and turned to leave. Then for one final time, Skinner called his attention back.
'Oh - and Agent Mulder?'
Mulder hesitated with his hand still on the doorknob. His frozen stance invited the AD to continue, but he refused to make eye contact again. He was afraid to, if the truth were told. Skinner humoured him, and in a voice as smooth and unruffled as watered silk, he finally spoke.
'You won't forget to bring Agent Scully with you, will you? I look forward to seeing you both. And you can consider that an order'
- end -
Well that's it folks. Remember the title and the Chamfort quotation? 'Love, in the form in which it exists in society, is nothing but the exchange of two fantasies and the superficial contact of two bodies.' Accent on the word 'SUPERFICIAL'. Mulder brushes Scully's cheek. Skinner grips Mulder's wrist. Eyes meet. Fantasies are exchanged. I think that's enough, don't you?