Title: Girl X (1/1) Author: Jenna Tooms Email: jenna@66exeterst.com Category: S, R Keywords: weird M/S Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: None Archive: Okay anywhere, please let me know. Summary: A bored Mulder makes an interesting phone call. Disclaimer: Should I ever claim these characters are of my own invention may I be sentenced to watch nothing but reruns of "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman." Okay, guys, this is a little different from my usual oeuvre. (Did I spell that right?) In fact, I wasn't sure if I should post it at all-it's been sitting on my hard drive for a couple months now. But I submit it to the ages, and y'all can let me know if it's too weird for words or whatever. It may also be painfully obvious that I know next to nothing about the phone sex industry, and even in the name of research I'd like to keep it that way. Girl X Fox Mulder turned off his TV and sat in his silent, dark apartment. He was tired, and bored, and lonely. And it was only Tuesday. He wanted to call Scully and ask her to come over to play, but he was sure she was sick of him - after eight or ten hours at the office she would want some time to herself. Besides, the last three or four times he'd called her at night she hadn't been in. *She's getting a life,* he thought. *You really ought to do the same.* But he didn't move off his couch. Getting a life required going to loud, obnoxious places and talking to uninteresting people in the vague hope you might click with one in a roomful . . . no, thank you. The Lone Gunmen wouldn't help tonight, either. Usually he could count on a Quake tournament or at least some outrageous stories, but they were putting the newsletter to bed and would be busy until at least four in the morning, if their pattern held true. So, no relief from his friends, either. For a moment he considered calling Skinner and asking him if he wanted to meet for a beer somewhere. But that didn't seem like a good idea, either - for all he knew, Skinner could be spending a rare quiet evening with his wife, and the last thing he'd want was to be bothered by a bored subordinate. *I want to talk with a real person,* Mulder thought forlornly. Neither the TV nor any of his tapes held any charm for him - what he wanted was contact, interaction. Another voice answering to his own. He sighed and lay down on his back, and picked up the alternative newspaper hanging over the couch's arm. In the back, along with the Zippy the Pinhead cartoon and the SGM seeks SGM personals, were the ads. Escort services. Burlesque shows. And, of course, the phone services. "Talk to REAL girls!" promised one, and another guaranteed every call to be "Hot Hot Hot!" What the hell. At least it was another voice. He chose one that had a Virginia number and dialed. It rang twice and a sultry voice said, "Hello, you've reached Phantasies. What's your fantasy tonight?" There was something vaguely familiar about that voice. He shrugged it off; all phone sex girls sounded the same, after a while. He'd probably heard her on another line. "I want to talk to a beautiful woman," he said, knowing it sounded lame. The girls like lame, it made them think he was new at this. "Well, you've got one. What's your name?" "Marty." It sounded normal enough for them to pretend it was his real name. "Hi, Marty. I'm Danielle." "Hi, Danielle. What do you look like?" "What do you want me to look like?" He sighed. Oh, hell. She didn't know him, never would. "I want you to look like the woman I love," he said. "Oh, Marty," she said gently. "You're in love? That's so sweet. Why aren't you with her?" "I've never told her. The fact that I work with her is just the beginning of our problems." "Oh, I'm sorry, Marty. Tell me what I can do for you to make it all better." "Tell me what you're wearing." He knew it wouldn't be remotely what she had on. He didn't care. "What would she wear, Marty? Would she wear a green silk shirt with nothing else? Or would she wear a black lace bra and panties with a garter belt and stockings?" "The silk shirt . . . with white panties." "Mm, white. That's different, Marty. I like it. So I'm wearing a green silk shirt with white . . ." "Lace." "Lace panties, and what am I doing, Marty?" "You're looking at me from across the room. We're sitting across from each other in my apartment." "I'm looking at you and licking my lips, and running my fingers over the edge of the shirt, just above my breasts. I've got one leg on the floor and the other over the arm of the chair." Mulder closed his eyes. Yes, he could see Scully sitting there, doing that. Almost but not quite touching herself where he wanted to touch her. "That's right, Danielle," he said softly. "And what am I doing?" "That depends, Marty, on what you're wearing." "A white v-neck t-shirt and dark blue sweat pants." "Mm. Easy access." Mulder actually laughed. A phone sex girl with a sense of humor, who'd a thunk it? "So you're sitting across from me," Danielle went on. "And you're watching me as my hand goes lower and lower on my chest. And my fingers find my nipple and circle it, just enough so that you can see it harden through the silk." "Mm," Mulder said faintly. "And I get up from the chair and move slowly across the room -" "No, not yet. Do it slowly, Danielle." "Slowly? All right." Her voice was a husky whisper as she went on. "So I'm still sitting. My fingers circle the nipple of my other breast, my nipples are hard, Marty, so hard they hurt. They want your mouth, Marty." "I come to you," Mulder said, caught up in the story she was spinning. "I kneel down in front of your chair. And you say I can only touch you with my mouth." "So you unbutton my shirt with your teeth." "Mm, exactly." "And you kiss my breast -" "Gently. You bruise easily." "Gently, before you take my nipple into your mouth and suck." "Now you finally touch me. You run your hands through my hair and over my face." "And what do I say, Marty?" "You say you love me," Mulder said quietly, and was not surprised when Danielle said nothing. He corrected himself, "You say how good it feels." "It feels so good," she moaned. "Don't stop sucking me yet." "I don't. I stop only to suck your other breast. I take as much of it into my mouth as I can, and then I pull my mouth back and just suckle your nipple." "And I take your hand and cup it over my cunt so you can feel how wet I am for you." Mulder moaned at this. He'd been trying to keep his hands still, but this was - this demanded action. He reached into his sweat pants and grasped his cock. "Keep talking, Danielle," he gasped. "You slip a finger into me to see this for yourself. I gasp and squirm against your hand. You pull your finger out and stand up. You pull me to my feet, and you drop my shirt to the floor. You take off your shirt and I kiss your chest, I lick your nipples. I drop to my knees -" "No." "No?" "Not a blowjob, Danielle." "Mm. I see. I lick your nipples, I kiss your stomach. I pull down your sweat pants and I step out of them. Your cock is so hard and big. I take it in both my hands and, how do I put this, kind of drum my fingers down the length." "Yes," Mulder said, doing as she said his free hand. "I weigh your balls in my hands." "Yes." "And then I stroke you slowly, from the base of your cock to the head, over and over." "Oh, yes." "We lie down on the floor-" "The couch," Mulder gasped. "We lie down on the couch. You pull off my panties. You part my thighs with your hands, and you enter me." Mulder groaned and began to pump his hand down the length of his cock even faster. "You're so big, Marty, you fill me entirely and enter me deep. I pull your hips, bringing you into me deeper with every thrust. You ride me hard -" "Gently," Mulder managed to say. "Gently, but faster and faster -" She began moaning then, dropping in a "oh, Marty," now and again. Mulder grabbed the towel he used for just this occaison, and, his moans in cadence with hers, climaxed, and at the peak he groaned, "Scully!" He fell back on the couch. The phone was still tucked between his shoulder and ear. He said softly, "Danielle? Still there?" She said in a tiny voice, "Mulder?" *Kill me now. Strike me down and kill me now.* "Scully? Is that you? What the hell are you doing there?" "Never mind that - what are *you* doing, masturbating and fantasizing about me?" "I thought you thought it was sweet." "That was when it wasn't me - and it wasn't you, either." "It's always been me - if I'd known it was you - what are you doing there, anyway?" She sighed. "Moonlighting. The money's good and I wanted to do something completely away from what everyone would expect - that still doesn't excuse you, Mulder." "I was lonely and I wanted you, but I knew you'd be busy -" "And I wouldn't sleep with you just to relieve your boredom." "I wouldn't ask you to." She was silent. He added, "You're very good, I will give you that." "I'm so embarrassed." "Don't be." She said briskly, "I think it would be best if you hung up now, Mulder. We'll talk about this some other time." "When do you get off?" "Forget it, Mulder. See you tomorrow." "Wait, Scully. Listen to me. It was just a fantasy, okay? Harmless. Me and my right hand. Nobody else will ever know. And I won't bring it up again, if you don't want me to." "Thank you," she said quietly. Neither of them hung up, and then she said, "Mulder?" "Yes?" "Wanna do it again?" End. *^*^*^ I'm laughing like a maniac now . . . Visit my homepage at http://exeter.simplenet.com/ for more of this than you can shake a stick at. "I'm not crazy, I just don't give a darn!" Daffy Duck