COME WITH THE WIND: A STORY THAT BLOWS (1/1) BY: Fanny Sewer-Sendings (auralissa@aol.com), Mylanta Badass (all4mulder@aol.com), and Skintimate Pee (jintian@graffiti.net) DISCLAIMER: Fuck disclaimers. Sigh. Chris Carter, the god of all things shippy and holy, owns Mulder and Scully - but we gave them such a good time and are so sweet and smart that we plan on sending this story into Ten Thirteen in hopes that it is published!!!! SUMMARY: Mulder is having a hard time, and Scully lends him a hand. CATEGORY: It's a roooooomance. Mulder and Scully havin' the sex. Oops! I spoiled it! And it's a vignette. RATING: NC-17 - like Showgirls! ARCHIVAL: Ummm, you want this? Cool! AUTHORS' NOTES AT END OF STORY! ***** COME WITH THE WIND: A STORY THAT BLOWS ***** It was a dark and stormy night. Well, not really. But it would have been nice to have something to distract Mulder from his aching trouser snake. Sometimes you just have to take the bull by the horns, or the penis by the hand. Mulder fisted his purple love rod, pulling it like the handle of a loose slot machine. He hoped to hit the jackpot. You bet, Mulder thought to himself, squeezing his veiny shaft, I've got two cherries and one hell of a banana right here. Felt so good, like Christmas. He closed his eyes, while visions of happy Mulderplums danced in his head. On the television screen, one of his favorite pornos was playing: "Come with the Wind". Right now, Red Boner had Hard-Clit O'Handy bent over the dining room table while she fiddled his dee. Mulder grinned. Red may have had a big boner, but this Yankee's wankee was nothing to sneeze at. Just as Red was about to come all over Hard-Clit's pretty little pantalooned ass and Mulder was about to collect his winnings, a knock came at the door. "Mulder?" Oh, fuck, he thought, it's Scully. Trust her to come just when he was about to. Quickly, Mulder pressed pause on the VCR and shoved his sassy sausage underneath his dress shirt. "I'm coming, Scully!" he called, and cursed under his breath because he *wasn't*. Sassy sausage, Mulder thought. Alliteration -- yeah, he was on a roll. Warily, Mulder took a peek through his peephole to see Scully standing on the other side, looking as delicious as a fresh bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Uh-oh, Mulder thought as his Colonel Sanders stood at full attention. This could be bad. "Uh, what's up, Scully?" Mulder managed. He glanced down at his dress shirt where the Colonel had set up full cannon and balls and thought, You might not wanna know... "Mulder, I need to talk to you," she said. He heard her with his big head, but the little one refused to listen. Scratch that, he thought. The little one had ears of its own and was perking up at the sound of Scully's voice, melting like warm sticky molasses on the hot, sensitive skin of his groin. Actually, it wasn't *that* little. And ouch. "Uh, Scully, this might not be a very good time," he said, eyes darting frantically around his apartment for something to cover up his erection, which seemed at the moment to be as big as Paul Bunyan's ax. And if he didn't get rid of it soon, his balls were going to be as blue as that giant ox. "Mulder," Scully said, "this is important. Quit dicking around and open the door." Dick? Mulder thought. This wasn't just about Dick. He had a whole Tom, Dick, and Harry on his hands, and there'd be hell to pay if she came in and crashed the party. "I brought food. From Wendy's. Hurry up and open the door before it gets cold." Mulder nearly choked. He knew if he let her in, she would know the answer to the 'Where's the beef' question. Scully stood in the hallway and wondered why Mulder wasn't opening the door. She could hear what sounded like a bad version of the Gone with the Wind soundtrack, but she didn't think that was one of the videos he didn't want her to know about. She then frowned as she caught a line of dialogue through the door -- "Oh, Miss Hard-Clit, I don't know nothin' bout sucking no cock!" Yikes! Mulder thought. I wonder if Scully heard that. Then, all of a sudden, he pictured her lush, strawberry red lips wrapped around his Colonel Sanders like someone sucking on a chicken bone. Dammit, he thought. Down, soldier. At ease! But his not- so-little trooper continued to stand at attention. And if Mulder didn't pay attention to this insistent soldier, he was soon going to get the big one-gun salute right in his pants. "Mulder?" Scully said. "What was that? That didn't sound like Butterfly McQueen." With a crazed look in his eyes, he grabbed his coat off the floor and pulled it on. Just loose enough to hide his corpulent corporal. He opened the door, feeling slightly like Samuel L. Jackson in "Shaft" while concealing a piece of weaponry so large that Charlton Heston would salute it. "About time, Mulder," Scully huffed. "The fries are getting limp." All of a sudden, he couldn't wait to dip *his* french fry into her ketchup. "Well, I'm starved, Mulder. I could barely keep myself from sucking down that whole bag of fries while waiting. What the hell took you so long? And why are you really wearing your coat?" Red-faced, Mulder shrugged and turned away from her. "I'm not sure I'm up for dinner, Scully." Now fucking, that he could handle. She dropped the bags of food on his coffee table, then turned back to face him. "You do look a bit feverish, Mulder. Let me take a look at you." She bit her lip. "Maybe we should take your temperature." Mulder groaned -- the mercury was sure as hell rising in his meat thermometer. "Uh," Mulder said. He took a step back, and realized he was in his hallway. Damn, they never had good luck with hallways. "Let me just find...your dipstick," she said. "I thought you were hungry," he stammered, his eyes glazing like a Sunday ham. "I am," she purred. "For you." Her eyes glinted like sun reflecting off of twin magnifying glasses trying to burn him like an ant. "Come on, Mulder," she whispered throatily. "Fill my Twinkie with your cream." She couldn't wait for Mulder to come inside of her, shooting his special brand of whipped cream inside of her with a force that could split his big banana. She called him Reddi-whip, he was so sweet. Mulder gave her a jaunty grin as he removed his coat. He could assure her that his bizkit wasn't limp. "Homage to Shaft?" she asked, raising a perfectly arched brow at the bulge in his pants. "Yeah," he grinned sheepishly, knowing his dick wasn't quite so private at the moment. He did know just where he wanted to dig it, though. With a flourish, Mulder tore off his dress shirt to reveal the Incredible Bulk, and Scully ducked to narrowly avoid getting one of his buttons lodged in her eye. "I think it's your turn, Wonder Woman," Mulder said. Scully grinned impishly, ripping off her shirt and unclasping her brassiere, waving it around like a lasso of truth. He stared at her boobs, bobbing like two unripe apples. She had such pretty titties! "Mulder," she moaned. "Lick me like a dog with your big, wet tongue." "Arf!" Mulder barked, and dove to the task. Leaning down, he took one peachy nipple between his lips. "Oo tathe tho goo," he mumbled. Scully smiled serenely. "You said a mouthful." She tasted like joy and fruit and summer rain, and oddly enough, that combination sort of tasted like a feminine hygiene commercial. "Just call me Summer's Eve," she murmurred, stroking his head and reading his mind. Scully was good at multitasking. Mulder smirked suavely at her, starting to take her pants off. "Come on, Scully," he said. "In the words of Sisqo, let me see that thong." Mulder slobbered his way down her body, and took the band of her Frederick's of Hollywood G-string in his teeth. Ouch, he thought. A flossing was NOT what I had in mind. We really DON'T have good luck in hallways, he thought. "Let's take this to the bedroom, shall we?" he crooned. As Mulder and Scully walked back into his apartment, Mr. Numnutz from across the way frowned in disappointment, moving away from his peephole while his erection wilted like a sad daisy. "Aw, maaaaan..." They stumbled into the apartment, and Mulder slammed the door like he wanted to slam Scully, hard and fast -- just like the Grand Slam meal at Denny's. He had two eggs and a big sausage for her; that was for damn sure. "Oh, Mulder," she gasped, her beautiful boobs bouncing boisterously. "Let's do it on your sofa!" "Okay!" Mulder said enthusiastically, wriggling out of his clothes and moving toward her. But his pants caught around his ankles and Mulder fell to the floor with a thud, squirming like a beached whale with a stiffie the size of Moby Dick. He tried to get up, and Scully listened as the change in his pockets jingled like a tambourine. In that perfect moment of watching Mulder flail on the floor sounding like an Hare Krishna reject, Scully realized that Mulder was HER Mr. Bojangles, and decided she would fuck him on the floor. She stared at his penis hungrily. A purple love rod, quivering like that bowl of black cherry jello she had for dessert. With a teeny dab of cream just coating the tip. Too bad she didn't have a cherry to top it, but she'd given that up one sundae when she was eighteen. Scully sighed. They say you never forget your first sundae. "See something you like? he smirked. Scully smiled, and stripped off her thong, displaying her quivering pussy. Oh, shit, he thought. I'm allergic to cats. Her pussy was quaking like a cat about to be shaved by thirteen drunken fraternity boys. "Come on, Mulder. Make me purr," she said, dropping to the floor beside him. Smiling, Mulder licked her like a Happy Meal (c), relishing the toy surprise of her clit. He squeezed her soft buns as he tasted her "special sauce", dreaming of the moment when he could dip his giant chicken mcnugget into her sweet and sour sauce. Slowly, he slid two fingers inside of her, discovering that she was as moist as rotting bread, right before it gets to the stage where maggots infest it. Meanwhile, Scully sucked his cock like a giant tootsie pop. How many licks does it take to reach the center, she wondered idly, relishing his chocolatey taste. Mulder groaned with delight as Scully corned his dog. "Fuck me now, Mulder," she begged her hips rocking to his rolling tongue. But he ignored her pleas, lapping away like a thirsty St. Bernard. Her pool of pleasure wept tears of frustration as he ignored her invitation to cannonball. Scully spiraled in the air like a figure skater completing a complicated jump as Mulder turned her over and prepared to slip his hot dog in between her toasty buns. "Oooh, Mulder," she moaned. "I haven't had someone knocking on my back door since AD Skinner kept me in his office for paperwork." "And don't worry about protection, Scully. An Indian Guide is always prepared." With a sly grin, Mulder reached his fingers up his ass to remove the lubricated condom that Krycek had left behind last weekend after a particularly emotional viewing of "Bitanic". The ship hadn't been the ONLY thing that had gone down that night. Mulder thrust into her, plumbing her depths like a plunger in a toilet. He was in so deep that he wondered if her anus would make those flushing noises soon. Oh, shit, he thought, jiggling her breast like a toilet handle. I hope she doesn't overflow. She came with a screech, not like the kind of screech that you hear when a car brakes suddenly to stop for a stop sign, but the kind of screech that those monkeys on the Animal Planet make when they're being given an enema -- which was oddly appropriate. He gushed into her like a fountain of soda. And later on, she was expecting a free refill. He just hoped he wouldn't be flat. Mulder was startled by the feeling of hot liquid streaming down his thighs. He then realized then that he hadn't been the only one gushing. Scully had taken a tinkle on his floor. Mulder smiled lovingly, stroking her ass. "It's okay, Scullywums, I wuv woo anyway." She beamed at him like a toddler just learning to use the big girl's potty. "Oh, Muldy, I knew you'd understand." "It's why we're such good partners, Scullywums." He nuzzled her ear, because her strawberry shampoo certainly smelled better than his floor. "We just have that unspoken communication. Besides, shit isn't the only thing that happens." Mulder tossed down some newspaper on the floor to cover Scully's "accident", and the two naked lovebirds curled up on Mulder's couch. Mulder thought briefly about putting a blanket under her to keep urine stains off the couch, but realized that if his cum hadn't hurt it, a little bit of Scullypee wouldn't. "Mulder," she protested. "I'm wet." He smiled fondly at her. "Don't worry, baby. It seems fitting that you should baptize my couch." A sweeping crescendo of music cut off Scully's reply. On the television screen, Hard-Clit was panting, "I shall NEVAH be horny AGAIN!" while fervently clutching a dildo in her hand. Scully clutched Mulder's purple love rod in her fist and understood EXACTLY what the Southern belle meant. "Amen!" Scully prayed. "The South shall rise again." "Don't worry, Scully," Mulder whispered in her ear. "For tomorrow is another lay." ***** THE END ***** FANNY'S NOTES: Wow, this piece means so much to me. What do I say about a piece so important to society and a piece that carries such a powerful social message? Well, I do want to thank Colonel Sanders for making good fried chicken even outside of Kentucky. I also want to thank Margaret Mitchell for inspiring "Come With the Wind". Ooo, and DEFINITELY I need to thank Sarah Michelle Gellar for wearing nifty clothing, and James Van Der Beek for crying so beautifully. I want to thank Mommy for teaching me to pee like a big girl, unlike poor Scully, who never seems to need to pee, so I guess she just had to go on Mulder's floor. And I also wanted to thank the dancing panda from the Snickers commercial, for doing very pretty pretty dancing. I want to thank 2 Live Crew for writing music that makes me cry. I want to thank *NSYNC for being such hotties and for writing songs like "God Must Have Spent A Little More Time On You". And I think that God must have spent a little more time making my delightful and ingenius co-writers, Mylanta and Skintimate. Mylanta, you are so brilliant and smart that you make me feel like a firefly with its butt cut off - I'm dim compared to you! Who else could have thought of Mulder's penis as a plunger? It truly *is* a purple love rod, and I will always love it. Skintimate, thanks to you, I will always know that Muldy and Scullywums are perfect for each other. I also want to thank God for inspiring this fic and for giving Christina Aguilera a voice like an angel. And Chris Carter - this is for woo, my sweet surfer god. Smooches!!! Mylanta here. God, I feel so sad. I can't believe this saga is over. Such a huge part of my life was spent on this story. And it all started with an idea. Just a small idea. One that grew and grew until it couldn't be ignored. A Mulderbulge of an idea, LOL. This whole thing came from wanting Mulder and Scully to express their true feelings to one another. Sweet and hot!! Juju Bea, you're gonna love this one. Oh, and Shirl, the tootsie pop's for you! How many licks does it take? You'll find out! And I want to thank my most wonderful writing partners, Fanny and Skintimate. You guys rock, almost as good as the Backdoor Boys, but with more rhythm and no penises. And thanks to Spankers, for keeping me up all night. Crazy dog! She has a bladder the size of a pea, or a pee, LOL. Thanks to my sister, for the use of the computer. She understands the muse. Finally, my thanks to the super surfer dude extraordinaire, Chris Carter: La vostra scrittura è il equivelant letterario dei feces del cane. Word up from Skintimate Pee! First up I wanna thank my gurlz Mylanta and Fanny, for bein' just such wonderful and inspiring chicas and showing me what the true art of writing can do for the X-Files and showing me that there CAN be true love between Mulder and Scully and that what they have is just so so special and there's no way anyone can tear them apart, not even Chris Carter who we dedicate this fic to for always having such a great big noromo stick up his ass. I mean really Chris what is wrong with just letting them be happy and getting married one day and having lots and lots of little babies because oh I think babies are just so cute and I'd love if one of them looked just like Mulder!!! Mylanta you were just always so quick with the right things to say and Fanny you were too especially with all your plumbing updates and both of you were just so helpful and sweet whenever I tried to join in even though oh my gosh, I could never write as good as you, I was just tagging along like a clueless little sista. (Hee hee! Clueless is my favorite movie!) Anyway I'm so happy and glad that you let me tag along and that you are both DA BOMB, and oh I love you both so much maybe even more than DD becuz there's nobody better in fanfic in my honest and true opinion! MMMWAH! ::hugs:: Second, I wanna shout out to my chica BRITNEY SPEARS, because oh my gosh you are just such a role model to girls like me especially because you're just so beautiful and smart and you don't let the boyz ever get you down ever ever. After this fanfic thing is all over someday I want to grow up and be just like you, and I don't believe what anyone says about your boobs being fake because the same thing happened to my best friend in the eighth grade and this is why we both look up to you so much because you don't let that stuff get you down, you just KEEP ON SINGING! Third I wanna raise the roof for the 1013 gang, for making the best tv couple in the world, Mulder and Scully who are my absolute favorites and I just know one day they'll live happily ever after, I know because writing this story changed my life in so many ways, now I know that Mulder and Scully are MFEO and they are destined to just make sweet honey love like little bunnies forever and ever and ever, and oh I hope the next movie will be all about just that, and if you want to use a line from our story I'm sure it would be okay because we know you just wanna make the movie as good as it can be. But anyway now I have to go because it's almost time for Clueless to come back on so I'm just gonna leave everyone with this. Don't forget now, here it comes: Mulder =n= Scully 4-ever!