Another Night on the Road (1/1) Merri-Todd Webster viriditas@geocities.com Category: VR Rating: 17+ Summary: Motels can be very boring places at night, even for federal agents.... Timespan: Before "Duane Barry", probably first-season Keywords: none Disclaimer: Dana Scully and Fox Mulder are not my creations, but I do consider them my friends. In any event, they belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. ********* Another night on the road. We had dinner in the motel's excuse for a diner, an overly glossy place with fake fifties decor. I'd rather have eaten at a real diner where older ladies with teased hair wait on you and call you "hon". We talked over the case; Mulder had dessert, I didn't. He taunted me with every mouthful of that cherry pie. He must have done it deliberately. He must have. I hate cherries and I don't even want to think about what they used for shortening, but he made eating that piece of pie look as decadent as a Roman orgy. Then we rode back up to our rooms on the elevator, leaning against opposite walls, and he went into his room and I went into mine. Since then I've worked on my field journal, showered, put on my pajamas, brushed out my hair. There's nothing on tv I want to watch, and I've already gone over the case files twice. Another night on the road. Mulder said good night to me over an hour ago, leaning in the doorway that connects our rooms and smiling sleepily. In his shorts and t-shirt, his hair rumpled, that smile on his face, he didn't look like an FBI agent, not even "the FBI's most unwanted." He looked... adorable. I wanted him to stay with me, so badly. He said, "G'night, Scully," smiling at me, and I wanted to toss him on the bed, fuck him senseless, and then curl up on his chest and sleep until checkout time. You'd think I would have learned something from Jack Willis. Bad enough I dated an instructor at the Academy. Doing the wild thing with your partner is not recommended Bureau procedure. Then again, neither is much of what Mulder and I do during our investigations. My mind may have learned from my affair with Jack, my heart may still be grieving him, but other parts of me are hungry and not wise. I want Fox Mulder. I want to have sex with him. I want his hands and his mouth on me, his cock inside me, I want to scream with pleasure and drive him wild in return. I want it, and I know how to get what I want. Am I going to throw open that connecting door and hurl myself on him? Of course not. Don't be silly. Instead, I go for the one item I haven't unpacked from my suitcase. My vibrator. My vibrator is my best-kept secret. No, actually, my sex drive is my best-kept secret. I keep it hidden behind regulation suits, expensive hose, perfectly matched pumps, neatly coifed hair, and just the right amount of makeup. I keep it hidden behind the professional woman masquerade, the agent, the investigator, the pathologist. I keep it hidden behind the soft, polite, low voice, the neutral gaze, the gun at my hip. God, I am such a hypocrite. It's just that I know from experience how much it scares some men to see that a woman really *likes* sex. Because a woman who likes sex has a lot more sexual capacity than a man. I wouldn't want to see on Mulder's face the look I saw on Andy's, in high school, when he realized that he'd come three times and was exhausted, and I was just getting started. I look down at the vibrator in my hands, and shake my head. Nope. I have to work with the man. I *want* to work with the man. Partnering Fox Mulder on the X-Files is the most intellectually stimulating thing I've ever done. Mulder is by turns funny, astonishing, and exhilarating. It's just my tough luck that he's also one of the most sexually stimulating men I've ever met, and that the only dull moments in our work are on nights like this, away from home, sleeping apart in connected rooms. Nights that need to be filled with... never mind. Put the batteries in the vibe, Dana, and get it over with. I load the AA batteries into the penis-shaped wand and set it upright on its base on the nightstand. Then I shimmy out of my pajama trousers, throw them across the foot of the bed, and pile up the pillows to support my back. I debate for a moment before getting my makeup mirror, the one that folds open and back so it can stand up on its own. I settle onto the bed and place the mirror so that I can see myself. My cunt. Peering into the mirror, I spread my folds with gentle fingers. My clit is already a little bit swollen from lascivious thoughts about Mulder; it peeks back at me shyly between the lips. I dab one fingertip on my tongue to moisten it and stroke lightly over my clit. Just that touch sends ripples down my thighs and up my spine, as if someone were touching me there instead of just between my legs. I imagine Mulder studying my cunt as I'm studying it in the mirror, giving it that distant yet absorbed look of his, taking in every detail. With that image in my mind, I stroke my clit again and feel my thighs quiver helplessly. Oh, the hell with it. I grab the vibrator and twist the base, bringing it on to a moderate hum. I begin by touching the tip of the vibe to my clit and circling it delicately. It feels good, of course, and I press the length of it against the cleft, turning it up slightly. A few steady sweeps up and down, over the clit and the labia, and I see the first hint of moisture emerging from within. Still watching my every move as though it's someone else entirely, I pull aside the lips enough to dip a careful finger into the hole. It comes out shining with something for which there isn't really a word in English, not a single word. Semen is semen or come or whatever, not male sexual secretions, but this stuff is vaginal lubricant, or female sexual secretions, flat scientific phrases. There really aren't even any slang words for it. This clear creamy moisture on my fingers--I think of it as milk and honey, as wine, as juice, but it's none of those things. I guess you could say it's part of my secret. I smooth the wetness over my cunt, following the path of my fingers with the tip of the vibrator. The clear red rubber head slides so easily over my flesh; the vibrations feel even better when I'm lubricated. I can see that my whole genital area is slowly flushing, my clit is enlarging, the moisture is gushing, all systems are go: My cunt is preparing itself to be penetrated. Here's another of my secrets: I like to be penetrated. I like to be fucked, and fucked hard. I climax from penetration quite reliably, and in quite a few other ways as well. I've talked to more than one woman who would be happy if she could just give fellatio and receive cunnilingus and let it go at that, and I've wondered if I'm really different from them or if I've just been incredibly lucky, never had some experience that spoiled the pleasures of fucking. I could never give it up. I turn the vibrator up just a little and press it into the opening. Not far, but I can't help moaning. I reach into myself with my finger again, and oh, yes, my vagina is hot, wet, slippery, ready to yield. With the next thrust, the head of the vibrator disappears into me. I angle it with practiced ease so that the base presses against my clit. In, out. In, out. In, out. I'm no longer looking in the mirror or consciously controlling the movements of my hand. Tiny, husky sounds are coming from my throat, getting deeper and louder as I fuck myself harder. Oh, God, this is so good--it's only afterward that you realize it wasn't really what you wanted, you wanted someone else to touch you, see you-- I see Mulder standing in the door between our rooms. My hand stops, the vibrator buried in my cunt, as my shocked eyes focus on him. On the tense way he's braced there, hands on the doorframe. On the golden glitter in his eyes. On the way his lips are parted. On the erection visible through his shorts. "Don't stop." ********* Scully looked so cute in her blue pajamas, I hated to leave her. I wanted to curl up in bed with my arms around her, but of course I didn't. I just went back to my room, my bed, and watched the Discovery Channel until my eyelids drooped enough to convince me I was asleep. That was when it hit me--the first real insight I'd had into the case. Without thinking about it, I jumped out of bed and went to the connecting door, planning just to peek in. If her lights were off, I wouldn't wake her, but-- She's masturbating. Oh, God. Scully with--a vibrator. I just stand there in the door, unable to move. Unable to take my eyes off of her. And then her eyes focus on me. "Don't stop." My voice is so hoarse it sounds like there's something wrong with my throat. Scully's face is flaming, and her eyes are huge, her mouth is hanging open. She takes a deep breath that makes her shoulders shake, then pulls out the buzzing vibrator--it's bright red and translucent--rubs it savagely over her clit for a moment, and then shoves it back in, hard, in and in and in, until she makes a harsh noise in the back of her throat and goes rigid with the force of her orgasm. I wait until she's relaxed before I say anything. "Uh, Scully, may I come in?" She takes the vibrator out and turns it off. Her arm drops tiredly, and the vibrator rests on her thigh, glistening with her juices. After a second, she opens her eyes and smiles at me. "Yeah." I cross the room and sit beside her on the bed, putting my hand hesitantly on her bare thigh. It's warm, firm, silky, and God, I can smell her, the smell of an aroused woman, a smell that goes right to a man's groin. "You were watching yourself, Scully. Do you like to see your pussy when you pleasure yourself? When you fuck yourself?" Her voice is soft and breathy. "Uh-huh." "Have you ever seen your face when you come, Scully?" "No." "It's beautiful. *You're* beautiful, Scully. Especially when you come." She smiles at me, sweetly. Languorously, even. I lick my lips. I wish I were smoother with women. I wish I could really be sure how she'll react. "I'd like to make you come, Scully. May I do that? Will you let me?" My heart thumps in my chest like the score of a bad horror movie while I wait for her to answer. After three or four extremely painful seconds, her little smile widens. "Yeah, I'd like that." I don't waste any time--I go for what I really want. Moving like a snake, I roll over onto my stomach between her thighs and press my face into her pussy. Oh, God, Scully's pussy--Scully--she's like a ripe peach, a soft split with red-gold fuzz on the outside, sticky sweetness on the inside. She lets out this astonished *eep!* that almost makes me start laughing, but my mouth is already pretty busy licking her, tasting her. And she tastes good. Good like something I've been thirsty for. Good like something I've been dying for. I lick her in long strokes from bottom to top until she's opened wide, an orchid painted by O'Keefe. Then I circle her clit precisely with my tongue, three or four times, and suck on it. From the way Scully shrieks and pushes herself into my face, I think I've done something right. So I repeat the procedure and go on from there. I don't want to miss so much as a millimeter of her; I want to touch and taste every fold, find every sensitive spot, stick my tongue so far inside her we'll both forget that her cunt and my mouth were ever separate. Scully's whimpering and bucking against my face, and I notice I'm grinding my hips into the mattress pretty seriously. I've still got my clothes on, and I'm damn close to coming in my pants because I'm getting what I want--I'm making my partner lose control. I'm finally getting past her reserve, her dignity, her seriousness--all things I respect, really, but now, now I know I can give her something she wants, maybe even needs. I can give her pleasure. I can make her come. I drag myself off of her reluctantly, getting off the bed so I can strip. She's been wearing her pajama top all this time, and she ditches it now, holds out white naked arms to me. I lie down on top of her, my cock sliding between her thighs into the hot wet groove I made there, and our arms go tightly around one another, our mouths seal together as hermetically as my mouth and her cunt did. Scully whimpers into the kiss, I think I'm whimpering, too, and I'm right on the edge, but I've got to--first, I've got to-- I tear my mouth away and give her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. For the first time, I notice tiny little freckles across her nose and cheekbones. "Dana Katherine Scully," I say solemnly, "you have the most perfect breasts on this planet." I slide down a few inches and gently suck one nipple into my mouth. Oh, they're sensitive. She moans and squirms and grinds her hips against me--if she wiggles just the right way, I'll slip right inside her. Won't that be nice. But I've got to kiss these perfect creamy white breasts and their incredibly sensitive rose-pink nipples; I've got to suck on them till she's begging me for mercy. And pretty soon, she is. "Mulder, please--please, I want you inside me--" I flick my tongue over her nipple a couple more times. Then I raise my head so I can look her in the eye. "Tell me what you really want, Scully. Tell me. Please." She bites her lip, looking away, then arches sinuously underneath me. "Fuck me, Mulder. I want you to fuck me." I nearly come from hearing those words. Nearly. But I fight my natural instincts and push into her slowly, carefully. Not to brag, but I'm pretty big, and Scully is small; I don't want to hurt her. The most incredible expression comes over her face as I fill her; it's like the bliss on the faces of Tibetan Buddhas, the peaceful smiles of two celestial beings locked in eternal intercourse. I feel the same way; this isn't just sex, it's more like... salvation. Finally I'm all the way in, sheathed in satiny close wet heat that tightens around me, makes me groan. "Oh, Mulder," her voice is a husky purr, "you feel so much better than the vibrator!" Laughing, I start to move, rocking my hips against hers and feeling her respond with the same motion. This is so good... there just aren't words that can do it justice. It's been so long-- Sooner than I mean to, I'm driving harder, faster; Scully's arms wind around my neck, her legs twine around my hips, her head is thrown back. I try to keep my eyes open, watch her face, and she's watching me, those blue eyes blazing. I'm going to burn up in those eyes like a rocket on re-entry. "Scully--Scully--" I want to say it, but I'm afraid to-- "Mulder--" Even now, she doesn't say it, she knows-- "Dana...." Her name comes out in a hoarse whisper and is drowned out by her climax. Crying out wordlessly, scratching my shoulders with her nails as she clutches me, her internal muscles rippling with ferocious strength all up and down my cock--I can't wait, don't hold back any longer, I just fuck her as hard as I can and come about five seconds later. Eventually I realize I'm still lying on top of her like a giant jellyfish, probably crushing her. Scully hasn't complained, though. She murmurs softly, incomprehensibly as I withdraw from her body, watches me with sleepy eyes as I roll onto my back. "You can sleep here if you want," she says quietly. Still purring. "I want you to." I make my eyes focus on her and see that she's smiling, almost grinning. A happy, well-fucked woman. I reach out with one arm, and both of us sigh contentedly as she curls up against my side, her head on my chest. I don't even notice when I drift off to sleep. ********* (Two weeks later....) As soon as I get into the office, Mulder gets up from the desk. He looks at me almost apologetically, but there's something else lurking in his eyes. "Sorry, Scully, I tried to catch you before you left home, but you were too quick for me." Flash of something in eyes that are turning green. "You have to go home and pack--we've got another out-of-town case." The corners of my mouth twitch upward. I try to sound inconvenienced and irritated. "Another night on the road?" Mulder can't keep from smiling now, though he doesn't quite grin. "Another night on the road." I let out my smile. "Oh, well." ********* end