"Fantasies" - NC-17
by XF lilbear (Ursa Minor)

This is my first attempt at writing anything like this and I have to
confess that I'm still nervous about posting it.  However, a bunch of
folks wrote and encouraged me (whoever said this is a friendly bunch
was right!) to post this.  Thanks again to all of you who wrote, and
especially to Karen, who gave me the title.

I should warn everybody now that this is NC-17.  If you don't know what
this means you're too young to be reading it, anyway.  So flame me for
other aspects of the story if you want (I'm hoping you won't) but YOU
HAVE BEEN WARNED about the adult content.

The characters belong to Chris Carter and 10-13 and Fox and probably
a whole bunch of other people none of whom have I asked for permission.
I'm certain he would never sanction this scene, which I wrote as a
reaction against that thread (you know the one I mean) that somebody
posted recently.  It's kind of - different.  I hope you like it.

- Ursula



	She glanced up from her journal and looked at him over
her glasses.  He was watching her with that odd, speculative
look that let her know there was something he wanted to ask her
but didn't quite know how.  And he had been watching her for
some time now, she knew.  She closed her journal and took off
her glasses.
	"Fox."  He didn't answer.  "Fox."
	His eyes focused on hers suddenly and he smiled.
	"You're so beautiful ......"
	She felt the familiar ache begin to coil its way through
the pit of her stomach, and lower, spreading tendrils of heat
through her limbs.  She had been mildly aroused all evening,
watching him as he sat there with his long, bare feet poking out
of old jeans propped up on the table, watching the way he chewed
his lower lip and furrowed his brows when something he read
puzzled or intrigued him,  watching his long, lean, sensitive fingers
turning page after page as they read in companionable silence.
	Her perpetual arousal was nothing new.  She had been
turned on by him before their marriage, and almost constantly
since then.  If desire was supposed to temper somewhat after
marriage, she had no basis for that tempering.  She wanted him
more with each new day, and her desire fed on its fulfillment.
	So she smiled at him, a slow, sexy smile, and got up from
her perch on the end of the sofa and walked over to him, holding
out her hand to draw him up.  He smiled up at her and stood, then
lifted her easily in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

	Once there, however, he resisted her attempts to pull him
down on top of her, instead sitting to one side.  She recognized
again the hesitation he had shown earlier, and sat up.
	"What is it?" she asked softly, reaching out a finger to
trace his lower lip.  He shivered and she smiled.  She loved
touching him ...
	He took a deep breath.  "It's ... nothing, really," he said,
dropping his head.
	"It's something," she assured him.  "Wanna talk about
it?"
	He bit his lip and tried again.  "I want ... I want to do ...
something ... with you that ... you ... I dunno," he said haltingly.

	And there it was.  She had expected something of this
nature, knowing his predilection for pornographic movies, all of
which he had destroyed before the wedding.  She had wondered
just how kinky he was, and how long it would be before she
found out, and just what her reaction would be.  Was he into
B&D?  Toys?  Heaven help her, she hoped he didn't like S&M.
	She swallowed hard.  She loved this man, she reminded
herself.  He would never do anything to hurt her .....

	Still, when she spoke, her voice came out in a croak.
"What?"
	Still he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the
bedspread.  Was whatever it was so bad that he was that
afraid to tell her?  Her mind flitted from image to image.  "Fox?"
	"I just want ..." he took a deep breath and his next
words came out in a rush.  "I want to watch you ... pleasure
yourself," he said, and his face began to burn.
	There.  It was out.  He waited.  She would either laugh
at him, or react with horror, or ...
	Her mind spun.  He wanted to watch her ... he wanted
her to perform for him?
	"Fox ... I don't know," she said slowly.
	Her voice gave him hope.  Hope that she wasn't angry, or
disgusted with him.  He lifted his eyes to hers and relaxed slightly.
There was a definite warmth in her gaze. . . .
	"I'm sorry ... if I've embarrassed you .." he whispered.
	"Well, it would be a little ... embarrassing, I think" she
admitted.  "But mainly it's just that ... I don't ... I don't really feel
the need to do that any more," she confessed, her own cheeks
colouring.  She knew that many women after they were married
still gave themselves more personal attention, but Fox ... Fox
was warm and attentive, enough for any woman.  And the pleasure
of being with him was infinitely more wonderful than anything she
could ever give herself.  She glanced up at him.  "Do you really
want.......?"
	He nodded, and reached to stroke her face.  "I want to
watch your face," he said softly.  "I want to know what you like
... what you would do for yourself."
	"Fox, I've told you what I like ... if you want I can..."  She
trailed off at the disappointed look on his face.  This wasn't that
bad, really.  And suddenly her mind began presenting new
possibilities.  After all, wouldn't she find it an incredible turn on if
he were to agree to.......
	"Okay, on one condition," she said softly.  His eyes lit
up.
	"What?"
	"_I_ get to watch _you_," she said firmly.  His face
flushed deep red.
	"I ... ah ........."  Then he realized.  She wasn't just
saying this to get him to change his mind.
	She really wanted to watch him.
	He felt his groin begin to throb more urgently, the ache
increasing.
	"You want me to..."
	She shook her head.  "Nope," she said decidedly, "not
this time.  A solo, at some time in the future to be determined.
And in return," she allowed her voice to take on a teasing, throaty
tone, "I give you a show now." 
	Oh boy ... He didn't know if he could last through this.
"Uhhh ............"
	"Take it or leave it, _Fox_."
	Oh.  She had called him "Fox" in that _Tone_ she used.
No hope now.......
	"Uhhhhhhh........"

	Seeing that he was evidently beyond speech, she smiled
and took his hand and kissed it.  "Tell me what you want," she
whispered.  "Tell me....."
	"I want ... I want," he swallowed.  "Show me.  Show me
what you did before we were married, when you were alone."

	And she understood.  He didn't want to watch her
pleasure herself _now_, he really wanted to see what it had been
like for her _then_, when she had been alone and lonely.
Perhaps this was a way of reassuring himself that he was good
for her, that making love with him was good for her.  It was: it
was beautiful and perfect and everything she had ever hoped for
or dreamed of, and she could tell him that, but he wanted to see
for himself.  He _needed_ to see.  And because of this need,
because she loved him, she needed to show him.
	"All right," she said softly, and nodded.  He got up off the
bed and looked around.  He felt so odd ... this was something he
had wanted for so long, but now he felt like a voyeur in his own
home.  He was somewhat startled when she slid off the bed as
well, and walked past him into the hallway.  He followed, puzzled.
	But when she turned into the guest bedroom it hit him
like a lightning flash.  Her bed was in that bedroom, the bed she
had slept in for those lonely years.  And he understood that she
understood, and was giving him his fantasy.....
	He felt his heart swell and reached for her, drawing her
into a tight, loving embrace.  She wrapped her arms around him
as well and hugged him back.
	"Dana ... if you don't want to do this," he murmured
against the crown of her head.
	"No.  It's okay," she reassured him, and drew back to
gaze up into his face.  "I want this.  I want to give you what you
want."
	"All I want is you," he said sincerely, and she nodded,
knowing it was true.  He hadn't asked this of her because he was
dissatisfied, but because it would somehow fulfill some emotional
need he had.  He bent and kissed her gently and then she
pushed him away.  He went and stood awkwardly in the hallway,
just outside the door.  She looked after him for a minute, then bit
her lip.  Then smiled.
	This could be kind of fun.
	She thought of something and walked quickly back into
the hallway.  "Go out into the living room and give me about ten
minutes, okay?" she asked him softly.  His eyes narrowed but he
nodded, his pulse racing.  _What_ was she up to?
	Dana hurried back to their bedroom and stripped off her
casual clothes.  She turned to the closet and rummaged for a few
minutes.  Which......?  Ahh, yes.  The light green suit ... one of her
older outfits that she had kept because it was comfortable and
flattering and he loved it.  She slipped into the suit, added a pair of
demure earrings and sheer cream stockings, and went into the
bathroom to fix her hair and makeup, pretending that she was
readying herself for another long day of work with Fox Mulder and
the X-Files.

	And as she prepared herself the years stripped
away...........

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>^^^^^^^^^^<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
	
	She hurried through the kitchen, dropping her laptop case
on the table and checking the answering machine.  No messages.
She was tired and slightly cranky and ... frustrated.  Very, very
frustrated.  Damn whoever had sentenced her to work with Mulder,
anyway.  She hadn't been with a man in a long time and here she
was, side by side with this gorgeous, sexy, infuriating, fascinating
man day by day and she couldn't do a thing about it.
	She thought of the way his eyes, eyes whose colour she
had never been able to determine, twinkled and sparked at her
when he teased her, and of the way she had caught him staring
at her just that afternoon, with a warmth (and longing?) that made
her shiver.
	She wanted him.  She wanted him _bad_.  Wanted to
feel his hands on her body, his mouth on her mouth and her flesh,
wanted to feel him deep inside where the ache was so strong she
sometimes thought she would scream.  She wondered whether
the love she now realized she felt for him had come first, or the
desire.  Or perhaps they had happened simultaneouly.  She only
knew that they had been there as long as she could remember,
teasing her.  Tormenting her.
	She dreamed about him at night.  Hot, sensual dreams
that sometimes made her wake up sweating.  Dreams of slow,
erotic lovemaking and wild, frantic, sweaty sex.  Dreams of taking
him on top of his desk at the Bureau, of ripping his clothes off during
one too many stakeouts, of being forced to share a room or maybe
even a bed with him on an investigation and the close proximity just
being too much.
	That was it.  She couldn't take it any more.  She tried to
hold off but sometimes the tension was just too much, and she
knew from experience that trying to stave off her needs would result
not only in severe frustration but perhaps a migraine headache as
well.
	She kicked off her heels and imagined what he would say
if she told him what was really bothering her.

	"Scully?  You okay?  Still got that headache?"
	"Yeah, Mulder ... I've had it for three days now."
	"Isn't there anything you can do for it?"
	"Well, there's something YOU can do.  Tear my clothes
off with your teeth and throw me on my desk and just take me,
Mulder, ravish me until I don't even know my own name.  Make
me scream for you, Fox, until everyone comes running to see
what's the matter, and then make me scream some more.  Make
me forget every man who's ever lived ... I know you can do
it ..........."

	He would die.  _She_ would die ... it made her blush
just to think about it, and it sent blood rushing to other areas of
her body as well.
	She hurried back to the bedroom.  She would give in.
Just this once.  Again.  She would lie on her bed and touch
herself and imagine him there, touching her, kissing her, making
love to her........
	She moaned and shucked off her jacket, her earrings, and
unzipped her skirt, dropping it to the floor.  She wondered if he had
any idea she wore stockings instead of pantyhose most of the
 time now.  An indulgence of sorts, a way to keep feeling feminine
and desirable inside her severe suits and calm demeanor.
	Scully unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse
quickly, then closed her eyes and slowed down, imagining Mulder's
hands where her hands were, his fingers deftly running down the
placket, pushing the buttons through silk, reaching inside to cup
her breasts ........
	The blouse joined the skirt on the floor and she was clad
only in her panties and bra and stockings.  She hesitated for just a
moment, considering, and then climbed onto the bed ... this bed
she had never shared with a man.  She lay back on the pillows with
her eyes closed, imagining.
	She reached up to stroke her breasts gently, cupping and
softly squeezing the aching flesh, feeling her body becoming more
aroused.  He would touch her breasts gently, she knew - she had
felt his hand at the small of her back, that careful, faint, guiding
touch, enough to know that.  He would kiss her and then kiss her
breasts and his mouth would be soft and firm at the same time.
She imagined his lips just barely brushing her flesh above the
material of her bra, and shivered.  Perhaps he would slide his
tongue under the cloth, darting it over her hard nipple before
reaching around to unsnap it carefully, his eyes glowing as he
pulled it from her shoulders, telling her she was beautiful, that he
wanted her, that he loved her.....
	She discovered she had slid an index finger under the
fabric and was stroking her bare breast.  There was something so
intensely erotic about it that she decided to leave her bra on, at
least for now.
	She slid her other hand down the flat plane of her belly,
stroking around her sensitive navel, then back around to her
buttocks, cupping the firm flesh.  She wondered what Mulder's
buttocks felt like ... firm and strong, she guessed.  She loved the
way his slacks fit him across the seat, and when he wore jeans!
He looked fabulous in jeans ... from the front as well, she thought
with a soft smile.  How many times had she wanted to reach out
and cup that bulge in his jeans, caressing him through the thick
material, holding him and feeling him respond to her ... only to
her?
	Enough of that.  Her fingertips trailed back around to her
front and just barely grazed her pelvis.  She shivered in desire
and arousal.  She only wished he were here.......
	"Mulder," she whispered, squeezing her breast and
stroking her lower body.  She gasped and rocked her hips
upwards.  Then her hands slid to the waistband of her panties and
slid them down and off and dropped them over the side of the bed.
The one hand slid back up to her breast, then her face, and she
cupped her cheek in her palm before running a fingertip along her
lips, the lips she wished he would kiss, then over her throat, and
back down to her breast.  The other hand slid between her legs
and stroked the sensitive skin on the insides of her thighs before
returning to the most sensitive place on her body.  She rubbed
softly, then a little harder, her hips arching up as her other hand
teased her nipple again.  She moaned.  "Oh, Fox ..."  Within a
few minutes she was breathing raggedly and her hand was rubbing
harder, her body rocking against its movements.  She paused and
her hands flew to her back to unfasten the bra, and she flung it over
the side of the bed before cupping both breasts in her hands and
lifting them as an offering to his absent lips.  "Oh, Mulder," she
murmured, "I wish ... oh, please....... Kiss me.  Kiss them....."
Her fingers kneaded the flesh and she squirmed, her hips lifting up
again.  "I need ... I need........." she moaned, and then her hand
slid back down to touch the burning area between her thighs.  She
parted her legs more, bending them at the knee, and arched
upward to meet his strokes, imagining him there between her
thighs.  Her other hand alternated between squeezing and fondling
her breasts and she stroked more firmly.  "Oh, Fox," she groaned,
"I'm so empty ... please, please fill me ... I need you ... Fox, oh,
Fox....."  Her body twisted, thrusting now, needing him there, and
she imagined that maybe _this_ time he would drop by to see her
and, when she didn't answer his knocks, let himself in, maybe
hear her moaning and come back to investigate, and see her there
like this, overcome with passion and need, her naked body
squirming on the bed, needing him.  "Fox, please ... this time, I
need you this time......"
	She bit her lower lip, now to the point of not caring who
found her this way, wishing beyond all that he _would_ come by,
that he would see her and be so aroused by the sight that he
would join her on the bed, touching her as she touched herself
but with fingers that were not her own, his mouth dipping to her
aching breasts, the hard length of his arousal burning into her
thigh, and perhaps bring her to orgasm before taking her, or
perhaps not.  Her eyes would be closed, so she wouldn't expect
it......

	Yes, she could almost feel him there ... she closed her
eyes and concentrated more.  "Fox!" she cried.  "Oh, please ...
now ... take me now....."  Her head thrashed on the pillow and
she felt his hands on hers, increasing the pressure, and then his
lips and tongue on her breasts, sucking and licking and nibbling,
trailing soft kisses down her abdomen........
	And then his hands gently moving hers away and his
tongue on her, and her eyes flew open as she felt a heat and
wetness that was not her own, and she looked down and saw
him there, kneeling over her, his mouth working magic on her
and his hands coming up to cup and knead her breasts, and it
was too much ... a sensory overload, and she screamed his
name and thrashed under him, crying as she came.
	And then he slid up over her to part her lips with his
own, kissing her with deep, hot, drugging kisses, his body
between her thighs and his hands sliding down behind her
buttocks to lift her into him, and he thrust into her and she cried
out, and he thrust into her again and again, and she bucked up
against him harder, lifting her legs to wrap around his back, tilting
herself up to abet the depth of his plunges, and the pace
quickened and became harder and deeper and his mouth dropped
down to suckle at her breast again and she arched and cried out
and came so hard her whole body convulsed with the force of it,
and then she heard him yell her name and his body shook with the
force of his pleasure and she felt him spasm deep inside her, filling
her, and she came yet again with a sweetness that was almost
pain, and they collapsed, panting and sweating, and she wrapped
her body around his and cradled him close, the tears running
down her face, smelling the sweet sweat in his hair.
	The world seemed to spin and dim for a long time after
that, and his body still moved slightly against hers, rhythmically
and instinctively, until he stopped and lay utterly still, and she
heard him sigh a deep sigh.
	She felt utterly exhausted and utterly sated, and just lay
there, stroking his back, feeling his warmth and weight on her
body.

	And then she came back to herself.

	They held one another for long, silent moments, and then
he lifted his head and gazed down at her tenderly.  His eyes were
wet as well.
	"Sweet ... my love," he breathed.  "I ... didn't know........"
	He hadn't known that she wanted him so badly, that she
had dreamt of him for years before their wedding.  And now he
had made that fantasy come true.  For the brief eternity she had
pleasured herself and then he had pleasured her, she had
forgotten who and where she was, and had been once again
Dana Scully, alone and lonely and dreaming of him, pleading
with him to come to her, and he had.
	She closed her eyes and he kissed the tears away.

The End


I didn't ask ahead of time but if it's okay I'd like to dedicate my
first attempt to some of my favourite writers who have influenced
me in different ways: Dan (I forget your last name, the guy who
wrote the "Poems from Mulder" series), DeviXF, Eleanore, Juliettt
and macspooky whose "universes" I guess I kind of appropriated
since I had Fox and Dana married, Sheryl Martin, Ms brooklyn,
Rosie Passanisi, Kelli Rocherolle, Windsinger, XFScully, and I'm
running out of space and hope I didn't offend anyone by leaving
them out or any of the people I did remember by embarrassing
them.  Trust me when I say that I'm embarrassed enough for all
of us, and that I love almost all the stuff on this group.