Eyes Shut
MD1016
(MD1016@aol.com)

Rated: NC-17                                     
Category: V
Spoilers: No, Sir.
Keywords: Mulder/Scully 
Summary: 2 pages of smut at the request of MelMooney.  What can I say?  She's a
junkie.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The smell of soap, heat on her neck and cheeks, her racing heart, pulsing,
throbbing, aching pleasure.  Too much, but more...please more...

She can't open her eyes.  She won't.  If she does he might disappear, he might
be nothing more than a dream.  An amazing dream with ten beautiful fingers
smoothing the tight flesh of her upper thighs, wandering to the outer rim of
where she wants them to go, ever so gently combing through...but not
quite...not quite...

She has to open her mouth, she isn't getting enough oxygen.  Her head is too
light, buzzing and soaring somewhere near the overhead bathroom light fixture,
looking down, seeing him looking at her.  Watching her as he slowly drives her
mad.  The sleeves of his blue dress shirt are rolled up past his elbow, his tie
lays forgotten on the tile floor beside the toilet.  From her out-of-body
perspective she can see him licking his dry lips, the muscles of his arms
working as he delicately traces a crease in her flesh.  

No, back in the body, back to his touch.  She doesn't want to watch, she wants
to live it.  She's watched for too long.  Just breathe, she tells herself. 
Breathe and love the way he's loving you.  Because this is love.  Not
friendship.  Not fondness.  This is devotion and worship.  His prayer is in his
fingers as they part her sensitive folds, in his thumb as he tentatively
probes.

A puff of his warm breath against her cheek jars her, and her eyes flutter
open.  His gaze is locked with hers.  His hand stops, as does her breathing. 
Even the soapy water is still.  Reality crashes in on them with a deafening
silence. 

Her partner is kneeling in the motel bathroom, one hand bracing himself against
the side of the tub, the other between her legs, two fingers inside her body. 
The look in his eyes is a mixture of arousal and fear.  And something else that
makes her inner muscles contract and her stomach clench.  His pupils are so
dilated there's almost no color left in his irises.  His cheeks are flush from
the heat under the dark shadow of a full day's growth.  He's hot and excited,
and it scares the shit out of him.  It scares the shit out of her, too.

When she looks at him, it's hard not to see the man she works beside day in and
day out.  She sees her partner.  Her partner who's trying to get her off.  The
thrill she felt a moment before drains away, and is replaced by a sickly
awareness of consequence.  There's no going back.  The innocent flirting is
dead.  From now on it will be impossible to dismiss his suggestive comments and
brief un-partner-like touches.  There is nothing brief about what he is doing
inside her.

She feels his fingers adjust, twist in her narrow opening, and the instant
pleasure slams her eyes shut.  Her arms slip inside the tub, under the water,
and her fists press on the porcelain beneath her to support the arch in her
back.  Her thighs press outward, she can't help it, and at this point she
doesn't want to.  She doesn't want to think.  All she wants to do is give
herself over to the fingers rubbing at that one perfect spot within her, and
the slick thumb working back and forth across her clit.  And the feather-light
brush of his lips and breath at her temple.

She bites her lips and clenches as the build begins.  It comes much faster than
she's used to.  The roar in her ears, the strain in her pelvis, the guttural
growl that she releases as the waves of pleasure crash over her become her
entire world, colored by red pin-pricks of light that explode behind her
eyelids.  

When she blinks, the light of the bathroom startles her, but no more than the
realization that in her ecstacy she'd flung an arm over his neck, and dug her
nails into his shoulder.  He's much closer than she was prepared for, his lips
are mere inches from hers.  And the look in his eyes tells her he has every
intention of kissing her.  His slender fingers slip out of her, and smooth
through her thick curls up to the dying suds floating on her belly.  He
caresses her.  He loves her.   His lips meet hers, and she closes her eyes. 
It's simple that way.

End.
	 
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