TITLE:  HEALING OPHELIA
AUTHOR:  DONNILEE
RATING:  NC-17/XXX-(And I don't mean X-File). 
Part 1, 2 = R, 
Part 3-6 = NC-17,
Part 7 = PG-13
Part 8 = NC-17
WARNING:    Smut-fest extraordinairre.  Grab your air tanks and breathing
apparatus. We are diving deep into my 
warped world of erotic fantasy.  Lots of extremely graphic, descriptive sex and
bad language.  If you like this 
stuff, you will call it erotica, if you don't, you'll call it porn.  NO PRUDES
HERE - AND PLEASE, NO ONE UNDER 
17.  My motto; if you don't like the show, change the channel; if you don't like
the program, change the station; 
and if you don't like erotica - DON'T READ THIS.
CATEGORY:  MSR ROMANCE/ANGST
POSTING:  ANYWHERE - But, please make sure my name and e-mail address is on it
and inform me by e-mail of 
the location.  Thank you.
SPOILERS:  Not really, maybe a tiny one about Mulder's parents, and Scully's
abduction.
SUMMARY:  Mulder and Scully do a tentative two-step around their feelings for
each other and finally resolve the 
issue - in bed, naturally.  
DISCLAIMER:  Ho Hum - Well, none of the characters mentioned here belong to me. 
If they did, M/S would have 
been doing the horizontal mambo a long time ago, complete with all the angst and
complications.  No, 
unfortunately, they belong to surfer boy, Chris Carter and the folks at Ten
Thirteen Productions.  No copyright 
infringement intended.
 
Healing Ophelia
 
 
PART 1: (RATED R)
 
I'd finally taken the vacation everyone had been telling me I needed.  Rather
than go away to some island or something, 
by myself, I decided to go and spend some quality time with my mom.  I was going
to spend the first week with her and 
then decide what to do with the second week.  He called me every day that I was
gone.  I almost expected him to.  He 
didn't call the first night I was gone and I kicked myself for feeling
disappointed.  What the hell was wrong with me 
anyway?  I couldn't go one day without talking to him?  Pathetic.  After all, we
were just friends.  However, he'd become a 
habit for me.  A comfortable one.  It was weird that he wasn't with me.  He
called the next day, and we chatted.  I could tell 
something was bothering him but he wasn't talking.
 
Now, I'm standing in the hallway at work, outside the cracked open door to A.D.
Skinner's secretary's office.  I can't see 
him but I know he's sitting there.  I can see A.D. Skinner's secretary, Janey. 
She is smiling coquetishly at him and it 
bothers the shit out of me.  What the hell am I doing here?  I'm on vacation.  I
know what I'm doing here.  I had to see him 
and I couldn't wait until tonight.  He's obviously been summoned and is waiting,
never a good sign.
 
I hear Janey clear her throat.  "So, Fox, when is your partner coming back?  Do
you need a dinner partner?"
 
"Mulder."
 
"Huh?"
 
He repeats himself slowly, as if talking to a child and I smile.  "Mul..der. 
Call me Mul..der.  No one calls me by my first 
name.  Only my mother, and I didn't like it when she did it either, but she was
my mother."  
 
Janey shrinks back in her chair and I can see she is chagrined at having made a
mistake.  She obviously likes him and is 
attracted to him and now she's gone too far and tried to be too personal.  She
tries again.
 
"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder", she stresses his title and name.  "I didn't know it
was that sensitive of a subject and I won't 
presume to be so familiar in the future."  Her speech is clipped and her
frustration, showing as anger, comes through even 
though she is trying to hide it behind her professionalism now.
 
I hear his voice from the other side of the room.  "No, I'm sorry Janey, I
shouldn't be pissy with you.  I'm just in a bad 
mood.  But I meant what I said.  Call me Mulder, but you can lose the Agent
business.  Just call me Mulder, please."
 
He had completely ignored her 'dinner partner' comment.
 
She sighs.  "O.K., Mulder, why are you in a bad mood?"
 
"I don't really want to discuss it right now.  Nothing personal."
 
"I think it is personal," she says.
 
"What?"
 
"I said I think it is personal.  I think you miss your partner dreadfully and
don't want to admit it.  You are always cranky 
when she's gone.  That's what I think."
 
"Do you now?  Well, that would be none of your business now would it?"
 
Just then the door to Skinner's office opens and he is ushered inside.  I decide
to go down to the office and wait.
 
 
I am wearing a light summer, cotton skirt and sandals, with a loose tank top.  I
sit down at his desk and throw my feet up 
on the desk, careful not to knock any thing off onto the floor.  I carefully
arrange my skirt over my legs and lean my head 
back against the soft leather of the chair's backrest, closing my eyes.  It's
peaceful in here when it's quiet and no one is 
around.  I open my eyes and choke on a laugh.  There must be 50 pencils stuck in
the fiberboard ceiling.  
 
Just then he comes in and stops short when he sees me.  I turn my head and grin
at him, casually pointing to the ceiling.  
He looks, shrugging sheepishly, turns and shuts the door and strolls up to the
front of the desk.  He's smiling.  That sexy 
little grin that always makes my heart turn over in my chest.  The grin that
says, 'I'm so glad to see you.'  He arches an 
eyebrow at my position in a silent question.
 
"I couldn't resist the temptation anymore.  I had to know what it felt like to
sit on this side and not have my knees banging 
up against the front of the desk while I try to talk to you."  He chuckles.  
 
"Well, stay there and enjoy it."  He promptly grabs my chair and slides it over
and plops down, tossing a file on the desk.  I 
stick my hand out to catch it from falling off the desk as it slides across the
blotter.  He raises his eyebrow again and 
inclines his head toward the file.
 
Just to see how he will react, I say firmly, "No, Fox."
 
"No?"
 
"That's right, No.  N-O, Fox.   I'm on vacation."
 
"Then what are you doing here?"  Good question.  He didn't correct me.  He
didn't tell me to call him Mulder.  What is that 
all about?  What am I doing here?  Before I even realize I'm having the thought,
the words are coming out of my mouth.
 
"I just stopped by to see if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight."  'Am I
competing with Janey?  No, I don't need to.  
The name thing, the dinner thing, I'm losing my cool on a regular basis.  I need
to know he reacts differently to me than 
the other women in his life.  Why is that?.'
 
He stares at me, that stare that bores into my skull, like he can see inside. 
He scrunches his eyebrows and looks 
perplexed, then purses his lips.  God, I can never take my eyes off him when he
purses his lips like that.
 
I can barely hear him when he asks, "Why?"
 
I turn to him.  "Why?  Because I've been gone for a week and now I'm back, and I
don't feel like eating alone tonight, 
especially since I'm on vacation and supposed to be enjoying myself."
 
He is silent for a moment and asks again.  "Why?"
 
I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding.  Damn him for always being
able to tell when I'm lying, or holding back.  I 
take another deep breath and blurt out, "Because I missed you Mulder, and I
didn't want to wait another week to see you."  
My voice is rising in volume in response to my embarrassment.  I can't believe I
said that, or the next thing that comes out 
of my mouth.  "Is that O.K. with you?  Is that a good enough excuse?  I didn't
know I needed one in the first place to ask 
my friend to dinner."  'Why am I angry?  I sound petulant.'
 
He is tipping his head to one side as if he were examining a particularly
interesting piece of evidence.  It's the same look.  
I turn away, flop my legs to the ground, stand up abruptly and head around the
desk for the door.  "You know what?  
Forget it.  Just forget it."
 
As I go to indignantly stalk out past my chair, then one he is sitting in, I am
stopped short and suddenly.  His arm had 
darted out and caught me across the top of my thighs.  He is so fast, I can't
even respond as his arm wraps around my 
legs, tilts my hips backward and sends me tumbling over the arm of the chair
into his lap, ass down.  My only response is 
a shriek of distress at loosing my balance and my control.
 
I sit in his lap, one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching for the arm of
chair to right myself.  He reaches out and grabs 
my hand, returning it to my lap.  He looks at me for a long few seconds.  "What
the hell, Mulder?"
 
"Yes."
 
The non-sequitar King strikes again.  "Yes? Yes, what?  What the hell is going
on in that head of yours anyway?"  A 
question I ask him frequently.  He grins.
 
"Yes, I would love to have dinner with you tonight."
 
"Maybe I don't want to anymore."
 
"I missed you too."
 
"Yeah, I bet.  You've probably been having a ball around here with nobody to
yank on your leash."
 
"My leash?"
 
"You know what I mean."  I am suddenly embarrassed to be sitting like this and
make another attempt to sit upright and 
gain my feet.  Both of his arms snake around my waist and haul me up closer to
him.  His right arm snakes down my thigh 
over my skirt and then tugs my calves closer to his body.  I'm almost in a fetal
position now.
 
"Mulder, what the hell are you doing?  Let me up."
 
"No."
 
"No?  Why not?"  I get the 'you can figure this one out, Scully' look.  "O.K., I
want to have dinner, I'm glad you accepted.  
Now can I get up?"
 
"Not yet."
 
"For god sakes Mulder, someone could walk in here at any minute.  This wouldn't
look too good.  Now let me up."
 
"In a second, and the door is locked anyway."  Now it's my turn to scrunch my
eyebrows into a question.  Of course, he 
doesn't answer me.  He pulls my torso into his chest, and bends his head into
the crook of my neck.  God help me, I can 
feel his hot breath on my neck and I can't stop the shiver that runs down my
spine.  I know he felt it.  My nipples get hard 
as little pebbles and I hope to hell that he can't feel them through his shirt. 
I hear him inhaling deeply.
 
"Mulder, what is the matter with you?!"  My voice is harsh to cover my physical
response.
 
"You always smell so good, like baby powder and cinnamon."  His voice is low and
husky.  His hot breath in my ear is 
causing alarming rivers of warmth to travel from my neck down my body and lodge
between my legs.  This is not good.  
This is not good at all.  What the hell is happening here?  This was not my
intention.  How did he know I used baby 
powder everyday in my armpits to dry my deodorant and a shampoo with cinnamon
scent?  He doesn't, but he knows the 
smells.
 
"Thank you.  I'm glad that you are happy with my hygiene, now can I get up?" 
Again, he doesn't answer me, he just 
nuzzles my neck.  "Mulder, what is going on?"  I am starting to panic a little
now.
 
I can barely hear him when he says, "Stop me.  You can anytime you want, ya
know?"  I know he's right too and somehow 
I am frozen in place.  My legs dangle over the arm of the chair, my chest is
pressed up against his and I can't pull away 
from the feeling of his breath on my neck.  "Stop me," he whispers.  He's
waiting for me to respond.  He's giving me a 
chance to pull away and stop him.  I take a deep breath and turn my head away
from him.  This only gives him more of my 
neck to play with, and he reaches up and runs his thumb up the column of my
throat.  Now I can't talk at all.  I just squeak.  
He gently caresses my neck with his fingertips.  What is he doing?  Is he crazy? 
God, that feels good.
 
Softly, almost under his breath, I hear him say, "God, Scully, it feels so good
to hold you."  'Alright, that's it.  I try to sit up 
straighter to regain some control.  I feel his legs shift and I gasp the same
time he sucks his breath through his teeth as I 
feel his erection, the one I didn't know he had, pressing into my bottom.  I
don't dare move.  There is silence for about 30 
seconds, neither of us moving.  
 
God my head is in the gutter.  I remember last year overhearing that bitch
Fowley talking to another female agent who had 
the hots for Mulder.  There were at the sinks in the bathroom and didn't know I
was in the stall.  The young agent 
obviously knew Mulder's history with Fowley.  The young, pretty blonde agent had
asked a particularly crude question.  
'You've been with him, tell me, what's he got?  Is he as long as he is tall?' 
Diana had cackled out loud, amused rather 
than offended.  Then, she said, 'well, all I'll tell you is...he's got plenty,
more than plenty, actually more than you'll ever 
need!'  They had giggled and then Diana said. 'you can probably forget it, he's
stuck on that partner of his like a dog on a 
meat wagon.'  They had laughed and left the lav.  I had sat there taking a pee
and wondering why talking about Mulder as 
an object bothered me.  Or why I even cared.  I knew most women thought he was
incredibly good looking.  So what?  
And stuck on me?  Hardly, I exasperated the hell out of him and vice versa.
 
Finally he leans into my ear again, interrupting my day dream and asks, "What
time?"
 
"Huh?" is all I manage to croak out.
 
"What time for dinner?"
 
"Oh, uh, how's 7:00?"
 
"Perfect.  Do I pick you up?"
 
"No, just come to my apartment."
 
He raises an eyebrow at this.  "I thought you wanted to go out to dinner."
 
"Actually, I wanted to cook you dinner."  Did I?
 
"You cook?"  He looks genuinely surprised.
 
I do my best to look offended and retort, "Of course I cook."
 
"O.K., . . . now you can get up."  His grip loosens and I hop to my feet.  He
doesn't even look at his lap.  He doesn't 
acknowledge that fact that he has a very stiff hard on straining against his
dress pants.  He doesn't even seem bothered 
or embarrassed at all that I know.  He has a blank look on his face.  I glance
at his lap and look away quickly.  
 
"I'll see you at 7:00."  I quickly turn the lock on the door and leave, closing
it behind me quickly without looking back.  I 
pause in the hallway to get a grip on myself taking deep breaths.  What just
happened in there?  He loves to tease me, 
that's all it was.  That's when I hear a long, low, groan from the other side of
the door.  It sends more shivers up my spine.
 
I should leave.  Shouldn't I?  I shouldn't stay here.  This is the second time
today I've eavesdropped.  This is getting to be 
a habit, but I can't move.  It's like somebody put crazy glue on the bottom of
my shoes.  I'm rooted to the spot, my hand 
still on the door.  Then I hear him, just barely, talking to himself.  "God help
me, Scully, you don't have any idea what you 
do to me."
 
I break out of my trance and trot quietly away from door.  I don't know how to
process that.  What do you do after hearing 
something like that?  You can't forget it.  You can pretend you never heard it. 
I'll have to.  And what about his arousal?  
Can I pretend that never happened?  I sure as hell am not going to be able to
forget it.  I tell myself, just get home and 
sort this out there.  I take the elevator to the basement, hop in my car and
drive home on auto-pilot.  
 
 
I'm home now and still thinking.
 
She left the office quickly.  Showed up like an angel out of nowhere, in the
middle of her vacation.  I couldn't believe she 
was there when I walked in.  I'd done nothing but think about her since she left
and count the hours until I could call her 
again without making a pest of myself.  When I saw her sitting there, I thought
I might have completely gone around the 
bend and was having a hallucination.  Her light skirt was falling between her
legs and outlining them along with the 'V' at 
the top of her thighs.  She'd called me Fox, too.  Was it a slip?  There was
almost a challenge in her voice.  I could tell she 
was surprised that I didn't correct her.  I love to hear my name on her lips. 
She can call me Fox.  I've never told her that 
because then I'd have to tell her why she is the exception to the rule.  I just
don't correct her when she occasionally uses 
my first name.  If she only knew!
 
What was I thinking when I asked her why she wanted to have dinner with me?  Who
cares you idiot, just accept!  But 
something in her eyes made me ask, like there was an ulterior motive there
besides simple friendship, more than a 
simple, 'I don't want to eat alone.'  She'd freaked out and I'm not sure why and
I'd almost blown it.  I couldn't let her leave 
and I'd acted spontaneously, grabbing her like a street lecher and flipping her
into my lap.  She said she'd missed me.
 
I got one whiff of her scent and was instantly getting hard.   Christ, I go into
a bakery and smell cinnamon and I get hard.  
It's such a smell I associate with her.  For god sakes, you'd think I was some
high school virgin with no control.  Although, 
it has been a long time since I've had anyone to touch in any kind of intimate
way.  She teases me about the porn I watch 
or she ignores it.  But it's either that or do things with people I really don't
want to do things with, sooo, movies it is.  I 
always end up fantasizing about her anyway.
 
I forget how tiny she is.  She's usually wearing jackets with shoulder pads and
high heels and standing ram rod straight.  
With no shoes on though, I can rest my chin on top of her head with room to
spare.  Today, all she had on was a cotton 
skirt and thin tank top.  I could see her bra through it.  When she was in my
lap, I realized just how tiny she is - short, tiny 
waist, thin but well toned legs.  But her breasts, oh god, they ride high on her
chest like a girls and are so full for her small 
size.  It's a toss up between the breasts and the lips, which one can tie my
tongue in knots faster.   The eyes can do it too. 
When I hauled her to my chest so I could try to keep her away from my growing
arousal, she felt so soft.  She didn't stop 
me.  That little squeak  when I touched her neck, I thought for a second it was
a physical reaction to my touching her, but 
it's probably wishful thinking.  She was probably just freaked out.  I'm good at
doing that to her without even trying. But 
she didn't stop me either.  I did notice the hardness of her nipples was showing
through the tank top when she stood up.  
But who knows?  Maybe it was cold in there.  I was so hot, I wouldn't know.  I
know you care about me.  Because I missed 
you Mulder...
 
What am I going to do?  I realized the first time I almost lost her that I was
in love with her.  Completely, pathetically in 
love with her, and I was going to tell her.  But then she was well again and
looking me in the face and I couldn't do it.  I 
couldn't risk our friendship.  I couldn't take the chance that she would walk
out of my life and not even want to work with 
me.  That would kill me.  But..., on the other hand, I've tipped my hand.  I
know I have.   I used to just get shivers when 
she touched me.  Then I graduated to hot flashes where I had to walk away or she
would see my face and see the heat 
there.  I've spent years hiding my feelings for her and it's getting tougher. 
Now, I can't even touch her at all, without 
feeling my groin tighten.  This afternoon was proof of that.  What's going on in
that pretty head of yours, Scully?
 
Innuendo and teasing are one thing.  She will sometimes play along but never
lets it go too far.  Well, guess it's on to the 
cold shower and get dressed.  I have to get rid of this hard-on that crops up
every time I think of her.  I decided to wear my 
oldest, worn out pair of jeans.  They are a little snug in the thighs, but loose
in the waist and groin area from long use and 
many washes.  I hope if I get excited, it won't show so much as it did in my
dress slacks.  Christ, I hope she doesn't 
mention it.  What the hell would I say?  She won't.  She was probably repulsed
and mortified. 
 
No, we'll both ignore it, and pretend it didn't happen, just like we do with so
many of our feelings and reactions to each 
other.  At least that's the case with me.  Deny everything
 
PART 2: (RATED R)
 
My brain won't shut down.
 
I keep hearing my mother 's voice in my head.  After Mulder had called for the
fourth day in a row, she said, 'If that man's 
love for you wasn't so beautiful, it would be pathetic.'  I argued with her.  I
told her Mulder had no interest in me that way.  
That we were partners, we were colleagues, we were friends, but that was where
it ended.  Mom had just shook her head 
and replied, 'Ya know, darling, for a smart woman, you can be incredibly dense.'  
 
I'd been so offended and sputtered on about how she didn't know anything about
my life anymore and that's why I'd come 
up there to fix that.  Yes, I cared about Mulder and he cared about me, but it
would never go beyond friendship.  She had 
just looked at me and said, 'I know you have to figure it out for yourself, and
nobody could ever tell you anything anyway - 
just like your father.  But you mark my words.  Fox Mulder is in love with you
and someday he's going to get tired of 
behaving himself, so don't be surprised when the day comes that he just grabs
you and puts you in a lip lock.'  'MOM!' I'd 
cried.  She had shocked me with her precise, no nonsense account of what would
happen when Mulder stopped behaving 
himself.  I'd had dreams about what Mulder would do if he stopped behaving
himself.  I didn't need her help in that area.  I 
been spending the better part of the last two or three years suppressing any
'inappropriate' thoughts about my partner.  
Now my mother was displaying them as though they were laid out on the coffee
table, and they were perfectly O.K.  I 
thought I'd hid them so well.  This was not the mother I was used to, the one
that was quiet and supportive and didn't 
argue with me and never asked about my love life.  
 
Then she told me a shocker.  Mulder had tried to quit the Bureau when I was
gone.  After I was first abducted by Duane 
Barry.  Why hadn't he told me?  Quit?  For what?  My mother had looked at me
like I was the densest person on earth.  
She said, "Because he didn't want to work without you, Dana.  Skinner and I had
run into each other in the hospital when 
you were returned.  He had confided in me then, that he 'thought he'd lost him.' 
He told me he wouldn't accept his 
resignation, but gave him a leave of absence.  Later when Fox arrived at the
hospital, Mom asked him about it during one 
of those quiet moments.  She'd asked, 'Why would you quit the Bureau, that's not
what Dana would want.' All he'd said 
was, 'She has to get better, without her, everything's just pointless.'  I knew
then Dana, I knew then that he was in love 
with you, even if he didn't realize it himself."
 
Then she'd said the thing that disturbed me the most - 'Be careful Dana.  Think
about it.  Love - true love comes along 
only once in a lifetime, . . . if you're lucky.  Some people never find it
because they are too busy planning their life and 
they don't see it when it comes around, and then it's gone.  Or they get hung up
on some stupid "rule" they think is the 
end all and be all of life instead of listening to what their experience and
their heart tells them.  They wait too long, and 
they've missed their chance.  You are lucky to have someone love you as much as
he does.  I know you love him.  Don't 
let him get away, Dana.  I don't want to see you end up alone.'  
 
I'd went on and on about how our relationship was professional.  He'd probably
just quit because he felt it was his fault 
that I was taken.  She'd said I couldn't fool her.  She'd seen the way I'd look
at him and the way he'd looked at me.  I'd 
said that even if there was something there, it was one-sided, which I didn't
think there was anything there anyway.  She'd 
said 'Stop lying to yourself.'  I'd gotten mad and ended with, besides, it was
against bureau policy for partners to fraternize 
with one another, etc., etc.  Mom had burst out into a belly laugh. 
'Fraternize?  Fraternize?  Is that the term they use?'  I 
hadn't seen what was so funny.  
 
When her mirth was under control she gave me a sad look and said something else
I'd never heard come out of her 
mouth . . . 'Fuck the Bureau.'  I was too stunned at hearing that word come out
of her mouth that I was unable to respond.  
I just sat there with my mouth hanging open.  She continued.  'Jobs come and
jobs go, you could end up practicing 
medicine, or just be in another division of the bureau if you couldn't work
together, so what?  Having someone to share 
your life with is more important than any job, Dana.  And if you don't know
that, if you don't feel that in your heart, then I 
feel sorry for you.'  With that, she turned on her heel and left the room.  All
I could think was she didn't tell me to close my 
mouth or I'd catch flies.  What happened to that Mom?  She was tired of waiting
for her little girl to grow up in the ways 
that counted.  I had cried then, just sat there and cried.  I was so confused. 
My feelings for him were wrong, 
inappropriate.  But I couldn't get rid of them.  I knew in my heart that I
didn't want anyone else.  Was that love?  I didn't 
want to end up alone.
 
That night I had the dream again.  I was having sex with a man.  I couldn't see
his face.  His chest was rubbing on mine.  
He was so tall, his head was above mine.  In the dream I strain my head back to
look up into his face to see who this 
magnificent man is who is making me tremble.  And it's Mulder's face, shining
with desire and love for me.  I hear his 
voice like an echo, 'I love you so much."
 
I woke up, the rippling spasms of an orgasm rocking my body.  I am covered with
sweat as usual.  I gulp for air and then 
sank back down onto the mattress, groaning to myself, "Christ, how many times am
I going to have this dream?"
 
 
'Thou doth protest too much.'  Two days later I'm sitting in my office, sitting
in my partner's lap with his enormous hard-on 
poking me in the rump.  Was Mom right?  God help me, Scully, you have no idea
what you do to me.  What did he mean?  
I excite him?  Is it just lust he feels?  How do I feel about him?  It's all a
jumble.
 
So my brain keeps turning as I put the seafood soufflé in the oven.  I know he
loves seafood.  I showered earlier but still 
have to change my clothes.  What the hell should I wear?  I went to my closet in
the bedroom and proceeded to try on five 
different things.  I was holding up a dark yellow sundress with a low back and
wide straps on the shoulders.  The dip 
ended a little below my shoulder blades.  It had a crew neck and buttoned all
the way down the front.  You couldn't wear a 
bra with it because of the dip in the back, but the skirt fell to just below my
knees.  Out of nowhere the thought came 
unbidden.  'You wouldn't have wear any underwear with this.'  My head swam. 
What the hell was I thinking?  Could Mom 
be right?  Did I have a chance?  And if so, did I want to take the risk?   I
heard the door bell ring and realized there were 
shirts, pants and dresses all over the floor and I'm standing there in my
underwear and bra holding this dress and 
daydreaming.
 
I holler out to the door, "Just a sec, I'll be right there."  I pick up the
discarded clothes and toss them into my closet and 
shut the door, quickly strip off my underwear and bra and throw them in with the
clothes in the bottom of the closet and 
throw the dress over my head.  It settles on my shoulders, the fitted bodice
hugs my breasts, but not too tight and falls 
loosely around my waist.  I shrug, slide my feet into my flat, flip-flop type
sandals and trotted to the door.
 
Taking a deep breath, I swing the door wide and . . . 'Good God!  No one has a
right to look that good!  He's standing with 
his shoulder leaning casually against the doorjamb, obviously waiting for me to
open the door.  "Hi, Scully," he says.  "Hi, 
yourself," I shoot back. His hair is combed, but that errant lock that never
wants to stay put is falling carelessly across his 
forehead.  He has two bottles of wine dangling from the fingers of his left
hand, holding them by the necks.  His other 
hand is across his chest, lying lightly on his ribs.  He is wearing nothing
special, rather worn out jeans in fact and a thick, 
white tee shirt.  But those jeans are slung low on his hips and they are snug on
his thighs.  His shirt is snug too, not tight, 
but snug and I see every muscle in his stomach and his chest.  My eyes travel
from his face down his torso, hungrily 
taking in the sight of him.  I slide my view down to his legs.  I have an
incredibly stupid urge to run my hand down those 
thighs.  I look at the top of his legs and can't help thinking, I wonder what's
in there?
 
I realize that I am staring and force myself to look up at his eyes, blushing as
I do so.  He has that silly, lop-sided grin on 
again, and I feel the flop in my chest.  "Can I come in or were you going to
serve dinner out here in the hallway?"  
 
"Oh, God, sorry".  I back away and sweep my hand into the living room.  He
pushes away from the doorjamb and walks 
slowly into the living room, stopping just short of the coffee table, where he
bends down to set the bottles on the coffee 
table.  He walks like a panther when he isn't in a hurry - so much ease and
grace - not to mention how great his ass 
looks.  
 
"I bought a red, Cabernet Sauvignon, and a white, some local stuff.  Didn't know
what you were making.  Was afraid to 
ask."  This last is said in a teasing voice and I immediately rise to the
challenge, since I want to gloss over my 'oh so 
obvious' perusal of his body in the doorway a minute earlier.
 
"Ah, you think you know me, Agent Mulder, but I have hidden talents."  That
didn't sound right.
 
He smiles broadly now, enjoying the flirt.  He's much better at this than I am. 
"Do you now, Agent Scully?  And what 
talents would those be?"  I'm stumped.  God I suck at this, never did learn how
to flirt.
 
"Uh, well, food for a start."
 
"You eat food, good for you."
 
"I make food . . . I mean I can cook . . . food. . ."  There goes his eyebrow
again, quirking up on one side as he waits, 
amused, for me to finish my sentence.  I'm embarrassed now, my normally glib
repetoir deserting me when I need it most.  
"I took gourmet cooking classes once," I blurt out, in a vain attempt to salvage
my dignity.  It's pretty much in shreds at this 
point and I look at the floor, suddenly feeling like crying and not knowing why. 
I can feel the sting in my eyes and I 
squeeze them shut tightly so as not to let a tear escape.   I can't even look up
at him.
 
Before I know it, he's beside me and wrapping his arms around me and tipping my
chin up to look him, which I try to 
return to the floor.  He won't let me.  My bottom lip is quivering, but the
tears are contained.  "God, Dana, I'm sorry.  I was 
just teasing you.  I didn't know it was a sore subject."  'Dana?  Did he call me
Dana?'  I sniffle and shake my head and 
look down again.
 
"No, I don't know what's the matter with me.  I know I'm not the picture of
domesticity and it usually doesn't matter what 
anyone thinks of my home skills, but. . ., but . .I just wanted ...  for you...
"  I have no idea where I'm going with this, so I 
stop.  All I can do right now is think about the fact that his legs are lightly
brushing against mine, and his arms are 
wrapped around my shoulders.
 
 "I'm sorry, Dana, look at me."  It's a command.
 
I look up and he brushes his thumb across my quivering bottom lip.  I suck in a
sharp breath and catch the lip under my 
top teeth.  His thumb worries at it until it slips from my teeth and he rubs his
thumb across it again.  It's like an electrical 
current tingles my lip wherever he touches it.  All I can do is stare like a
deer stuck in the headlights.  He leans in close to 
my face and tips his head away from my lips at the last second to bring his lips
to my ear.  God I hate it when he does 
this.  I love it when he does this.  He smells like pungent fresh air and soap. 
"I'm sure whatever it is it'll be delicious and 
even it isn't, it'll beat the pizza and beer I was going to have tonight."
 
I smile in spite of my embarrassment.  "Sorry, Mulder, I don't know what
happened."
 
"Stop apologizing and let's eat."
 
"O.K."
 
 
I came so close to laying my mouth on hers.  That quivering lip killed me.  I
just wanted to suck on it.  Would she have 
stopped me?  I hate it when she cries.  I never want to make her cry but I guess
I've done it quite a few times.  I never 
mean to.  But there are so many things I don't know about her private life and
her past.  We're eating a scrumptious 
seafood soufflé and laughing and chatting.  She really can cook and I'm
impressed.  She wanted to cook for me?  Is that 
what she was trying to say?  That thought makes me unreasonably happy.  Was she
trying to impress me?  Is that why it 
upset her that I teased about her cooking skills?  
 
I'm responding to her chatter on auto pilot.  Is she nervous?  She doesn't
usually chatter.   All I can think about is her bold 
scan of my body when she opened the door.  I keep replaying it in my mind.   I
didn't dare move.  I could feel the heat 
wherever her eyes touched me.  I'd felt that familiar tightening in my groin.  I
was getting hard.  Thank god she didn't 
notice.   Glad I wore these jeans too!  I couldn't believe she was checking me
out like that.  It wasn't wishful thinking this 
time.  She was staring at my body.  The question is, 'did she like what she saw?
 
I'd love to know what those hidden talents are, Scully.  If I reacted so
strongly just to her looking at me, what the hell 
would I do if she decided to be forward or aggressive? I know she cares for me,
as a friend, but ... could she possibly 
think I'm attractive?  No, don't get your hopes up.  Let it go.
 
 
Dinner went well.  Mulder oohhed and aahhed over the soufflé, pouring it on a
little thick, I think.  But it really was good 
and I was pleased when he got serious and sincerely told me that was the best
meal he's had in a long time.  He couldn't 
get better in a restaurant.  He did seem a little surprised still, which irked
me, but only for a second.
 
We retired to the couch after I put on some soft jazz in the background and
brought some glasses out to the coffee table.  
We had polished off the white wine during dinner.  We'd both eaten enough though
and I wasn't buzzed, just feeling very 
relaxed.  He poured the red wine and handed me one and leaned back into the
corner of the couch.  I kicked off my 
shoes.  I tried sitting on my legs Indian style, I tried pulling them up
underneath me, I tried leaning back like he was, but 
I'm too short to relax that way.  I couldn't get comfortable.  I was trying not
to touch him.  We were making idle 
conversation about what was going on at work while I was gone.
 
He was watching me closely and it just made me more self-conscious.  I was in
the middle of an explanation of systolic 
blood pressure versus dystolic blood pressure when he stopped me mid-sentence.
 
"So the bottom number, the dystolic pressure measures the pressure in the artery
after it contracts, at its lowest point, 
see, so . . ."
 
Quietly, "You're driving me crazy, Scully."  I stopped and stared at him, not
sure what he meant.  
 
"If you don't stop squirming, I'm going to have to come over there and hold you
down and I don't think you want that."  
'Yeah, I do want that, actually.  Do I?'  His voice is perfectly calm, perfectly
reasonable, and to an outsider what would 
look like a blank look on his face.  I knew better.  He was teasing, but he was
serious too.  He would carry out his threat.  
Maybe I should let him.
 
"Uh, then, what would you suggest?"  He carefully placed his wineglass on the
coffee table, and casually reached down 
and plucked up one of the thin decorative pillows that belonged to the couch and
had been tossed on the floor before we 
sat.  He used the toes of one foot to kick off one sneaker and then the other. 
He looked at me with that 'This is a 
challenge to see what you will do' look.  Then he spun his butt on couch, threw
one leg up flush with the back of the 
couch, the other on the floor, and put the pillow between his legs.  He leaned
back on the arm of the couch, picked up his 
wineglass, raised an eyebrow at me and slowly took a sip of his wine.  He was
watching over the rim of his glass.  I was 
frozen.  This seemed to be a recurring event, . . . muscle lock.  He patted the
pillow with his free hand.
 
Do it, Dana!  I hesitated about 5 seconds, then put down my wine glass, spun
around backwards and grabbed his ankles 
with my hands and scootched back between his legs and reclined onto the pillow. 
Silence.  My hands were still on his 
ankles.  He reached out and swiped up my wineglass and handed it to me over my
shoulder.  "Relax, Scully, I'm not going 
to bite you."
 
"Sorry," I mumbled, taking the glass from him and leaning back a bit more.  He
brought his other leg up on the couch and 
slowly slid it down brushing my hip and down my thigh.  I repressed a shiver. 
Even in this position, his long legs reach to 
just below my knees.  It struck me how much taller he was than I am.  I didn't
pay attention to it most of the time.  Each of 
his legs was lowered and now rested below my arms.    I let my arms rest on his
thighs.  Just the heat of his legs was 
making me feel languid.  
 
"I don't want to talk about work anymore.  Let's talk about something else," he
said.
 
"Hmm, O.K., what do you want to talk about?"
 
"Tell me about your trip to your mother's place."  Uh oh.  How do I talk about
this?
 
"Let's see, well, we spent a wonderful 6 days together.  We laughed and talked
and shopped and then got on each other's 
nerves.  Then she forgot I'm 34 years old and tried to tell me what to do about
my job and my love life and then I left."  
Succinct, I thought.
 
"Ahh, moms never stop being moms, do they?"
 
"No, I guess not, but it gets old after a while.  Contrary to common belief,
they don't always know what's best for you."
 
"No?  Why?  What did she suggest?"  I chuckled.  There was no good way to get
out of this one and I knew he wouldn't let 
it go.  He never does.
 
"She said a lot of things."  Neutral.
 
"Like what?"
 
"Oh, I don't know, it was all mommy bunk anyway."
 
"Mommy bunk?"  He laughed.  "I never heard that one before."  He chuckled again
and I felt it vibrate through my torso.  
He so rarely laughed.  It brought a smile to my face even though he couldn't see
it.  I was finding this position interesting.  
I could touch him, innocently, and yet, I found that it was easier to say things
to him when I wasn't looking at him.  That 
face unnerved me.  His eyes could immobilize me.  I seemed to be especially
sensitive tonight to every move he made.  I 
took another sip of wine. Then he said, "Summarize."
 
He was always popping out these questions in a delayed reaction.  It always took
me a second to catch up.   Ah, we were 
playing the question and answer game.  "What?"
 
"Summarize what your mother told you - summarize the 'lots of things' that she
said."
 
"Hmmm, well, basically she um..."
 
"Well, basically she um?  Very articulate, Scully."  Now I was chuckling.
 
"Give me a minute."   He waited patiently, sipping his wine.  I felt his legs
squeeze my thighs a little, real gentle.  Not even 
sure it happened.  It did.  My body's response was immediate.  I felt the sweat
break out on my hairline and the heat 
spread throughout my abdomen.  'Christ, this was ridiculous.'  The thoughts
running through my head.  '. . .you have no 
idea what you do to me.'  'You always smell so good, baby powder and cinnamon. 
It feels so good to hold you . . .  you 
can stop me . . .'
 
"Scully?"
 
"Oh, yeah, well, basically she said . . . Fuck the Bureau and get a love life."
 
He choked.  He sat straight up, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding his
wineglass out over the table to keep 
from spilling.  I felt him cough a couple more times, clear his throat.  He set
his wineglass down and started laughing.  "Did 
she really say that?"
 
"Yup."
 
  It was contagious.  I started laughing.  Soon we had tears streaming down our
faces.  "God bless your mother, she is a 
trip!"   He swiped his face with his hand and brought it down to rest on my
shoulder.  My mirth died instantly as tingling 
started from his hand and spread down my arm.  I flinched and he removed his
hand.   
 
Before I knew what I was saying, the words came out.  I whispered, "It's O.K." 
God I have to admit this.  I want him to 
touch me.  I want it badly.  He tentatively placed his hand back on my shoulder. 
Silence.  Moments passed and he 
scooted back so he was sitting more upright with his back to the armrest.  I
felt the arm around my waist tighten and he 
pulled me back into his chest.  
 
The pillow was gone.  The shock of feeling my bare skin exposed in the dip of my
dress against his tee shirt was jarring.  
Heat!  I tensed.  His hands fell on my shoulders and started to knead the
muscles.  "Relax, Scully. "  I couldn't suppress a 
groan and the tension slid out of my back and I slumped against him.  He
continued to work my muscles in my shoulders, 
occasionally sliding his thumbs up the cords in the back of my neck.  I was limp
now.  
 
It felt so good.  I said so.  "God, Mulder, that feels so goo...ood."  He
stilled, then started working down on my shoulder 
blades.  I leaned forward and moaned again.  After a minute or two, he stopped,
cupped my shoulders and pulled me 
against him again.  I could feel him slide his hips down a bit and I reclined a
little more, my hands resting on his thighs.  I 
wasn't consciously thinking at that moment.  I was enjoying the heat of his
body.  I started raking my nails lightly on his 
jeans, down the top of his thighs.  My elbows were touching his hips.  I heard
the sharp intake of his breath and stopped.  
He breathed out and whispered, "It's O.K."  My own words coming back to haunt
me.  I froze for a beat and then laid my 
palms on his thighs and began sliding them slowly up and down the outside of his
thighs, real slow.  He's hard again, I 
can feel it, because I touched his legs.
 
The thoughts again. 'What the hell has gotten into me?  God, his heat feels so
good.'  His hands came to rest on my 
waist, his thumbs rubbing slightly against the small of my back.  His hands were
so big; the thumbs almost met in the 
middle my back.  One hand slid slowly up and inside the open back of my dress,
around the front and began caressing 
the skin of my rib cage.  I tensed a little but he didn't stop.  He whispered,
"you're so soft."  I could hear him breathing a bit 
heavy.
 
I sucked in a sharp breath.  "Wha, what are you do..doing, Mul...der?"  Great,
I'm stuttering.
 
"You can stop me, Dana."  Do I want to?  He brought his hand down to my navel
and caressed the skin. I don't have any 
underwear on!  His hand brushed back up my stomach and his thumb skimmed along
the bottom of my breast.  I gasped.  
He holds still for a heartbeat or two.  I can feel his heartbeat on my back. 
It's rapid.  I can't stop him.  Please, Mulder, 
touch me.  He does.  His hand slides up and cups my breast and squeezes gently,
then his thumb rakes over my nipple 
and it becomes instantly hard as a pebble and protruding into him palm.  I moan
-- I can't help it -- low, long, and loud. 
'When did I start wanting him so much?  Wanting him to touch me?  When did he
start making me feel like a beautiful 
woman instead of just his partner?  Oh, god, I just felt a gush of warmth
between my legs.'  "Oh God, Mulder..."
 
 
Oh my god, I'm touching her, really touching her and she isn't stopping me.  Her
skin is so soft.  I go slow.  I don't want to 
startle her out of whatever mood that is allowing her to let me touch her.  Her
skin is like silk.  This dress, god, she isn't 
wearing a bra.  Would she let me?  Could I get away with that?  Touching her
breast.  I shouldn't push it. . . I have to try.  
She kept brushing my thighs with her hands.  She's never touched me like that
before.  I know she must be able to feel 
my arousal.  She isn't stopping me.
 
I slide my hand up and brush the bottom of her breast.  I hear her sharp intake
of breath.  I still, she doesn't stop me.  I 
can't help myself now.  I slide my hand up to cup her full breast and run my
thumb over the peak of her breast.  Jesus, I 
just felt her nipple get hard, because I touched her.  Am I dreaming or is she
moaning because I'm touching her?  How 
many times have I dreamt of her making a sound like that for me?  I want her so
badly my usual caution goes flying out 
the window.
 
 
He stilled and I felt his lips near my ear again.  "Has anyone ever made love to
you, Dana?"  'Dana again.'  It took a 
minute for the question to register.  'He couldn't possibly mean what I think he
means.'
 
"Mulder, you don't think I'm a virgin, do you?"  That was dumb.  The words
slipped out before I could think anymore.  For 
pity sake, I couldn't even think when he was touching me.
 
"No, I don't mean that.  I mean has anybody ever made love to you . . . as
opposed to having sex with you?"  This 
question puzzled me.   My brain goes on pause.
 
"What's the difference, I mean, there just two phrases to describe the same
thing.  Right?  I mean one is more politically 
correct than the other, but . . ."
 
"There's a big difference."  He paused.  "God, no one ever has."
 
"No one ever has what?"
 
"Made love to you."  His hand is still on my breast.
 
"How can you be sure?"  Silence.  "What's the difference then?"
 
"If anyone had ever made love to you, you would know the difference.  The fact
that you don't know, tells me that no one 
has ever made love to you."  His hand pulls away and I almost whimper at the
loss.
 
"Explain that please."  My voice was clipped and I was getting a little angry. 
I wasn't sure if it was because this was 
breaking the bubble of that silent mood that was turning me on, or if I felt
stupid.
 
His voice is calm and sad.  "Men have had sex with you, on you, for you, or for
themselves, but they've never made 
love to you."
 
I shook my head, not really understanding what he was trying to say. 
"Mulder..."  He kept talking as though I hadn't tried 
to interrupt him.
 
"When a man makes love to you, your pleasure is more important than his.  Giving
you pleasure, gives him pleasure.  It's 
slow and fast, it's easy and hard, it's exciting and nerve racking all at the
same time.  Everywhere he touches you, you 
can feel it."
 
"Feel what?"
 
Silence.
 
"Feel what, Mulder?"
 
"I forgot one little detail."
 
"What's that?"
 
"He has to be in love with you."
 
Silence.  Well, that's it then, end of story.  He wasn't finished.
 
"If he is in love with you, you feel it when he touches you, it's a kind of . .
. reverence mixed with respect ... maybe a little 
awe too."  'Why did this little tid bit make my heart beat faster and my mouth
go dry.
 
"Sounds very romantic, Mulder, but  . . ."  'God, my mouth is so dry.'
 
"But you don't believe me."  He sounded sad and disappointed.  I'm nervous now. 
Are we even having this discussion?  
How did we get here?
 
"I don't know what I believe.  I've had sex before.  I've enjoyed it before. 
I've not enjoyed it sometimes, . . . depends.  I've 
always had this slight Oedipus thing, probably because of my attachment to my
father.  I always wanted to make him 
proud.  Or, well, Oedipus, that's a son for his mother.  What's a daughter for a
father?  Ophelia complex?  I just made that 
up.  Not based in fact.  And I don't mean incestuous either, ya know, a kind of
mental thing.   Anyway, I always go to older 
men, men in control.  I feel a need to please them.  Jack, the older agent with
more experience.  Daniel the instructor in 
med school and my mentor.  In some ways I wanted them to have that control over
me.  In other ways it chaffed, and I'm 
never sure what to do with those feelings.  You're in control a lot of times,
too.  I feel like a high school kid sometimes.  
Maybe I'm just socially inept and need to be led.  God wouldn't that be
horrendous.  The self sufficient, strong, smart, Dr. 
Scully wants to be a sheep sometimes.  Anyway, I've never quite been able to
cure myself of always being drawn to that 
type. It's like a sickness."  'You're babbling.  Shut up.  So what, so I'm
babbling.  He isn't saying anything.'  I still haven't 
turned to look at him.  I have no idea what his reaction is to all this.
 
I hear him take a deep breath.  "And me?" he whispers.  He really wants to know.
 
"Well, I am drawn to you."
 
"Are you?"  He doesn't believe me.
 
"Christ, all women are, you're a very handsome man."  Silence again.  "Mulder,
you know I am."
 
"Do I?"
 
"Yes.  I'm telling you now.  But, you don't fit the profile, Mulder, you're not
at all what I'm used to, therefore, I don't know 
how to behave with you..."
 
"Behave any way you want."
 
"Maybe that's the problem."
 
"What's that?"
 
"Maybe I don't know what I want."
 
"I do."
 
"Huh?"
 
"I mean...I know what I want."  I can't ask.
 
"You scare me."
 
"Scare you?  Why?"
 
"You make me feel things..."
 
"Sorry."  He sounds mock apologetic, almost sarcastic.
 
"No, don't be.  It's me, Mulder.  These feelings I have, not knowing what to do
with them.  I don't know what to think about 
them."
 
"Humor me.  For the next couple of minutes, don't think."
 
"Don't think?"
 
"Don't think.  Just feel."
 
"I'll try.
 
"Because if you just feel, maybe I can cure you."
 
"Cure me?"
 
"Of your  Ophelia complex."
 
"Oh that."
 
His hand comes up from my waist where it had stilled.  His hands are on either
side of my head, twisting into my hair.  I 
can feel the heat from them.  I shiver a little.  He tilts my head back and to
the side, exposing my neck.  I feel a little thrill 
run through me. His lips are near my ear again, only this time they brush
lightly over my earlobe and the shell of my ear as 
he talks.  "I have a question."  I am swallowing a gasp from the feelings that
are rushing through me.  It's almost like I can 
feel the blood rushing in my veins.
 
"Mmmm?"  That's all the coherent sound I'm capable of at the moment.
 
"What do you feel when I touch you?"
 
"Mulder..."
 
"What do you feel, Scully?  What do you want?"
 
I almost sob.  "I'm excited.  I'm turned on.  I want...I want you to keep
touching me."
 
"If I were to tell you . . ."  'His lips are still brushing my ear.  His breath
is hot.  "that I wanted to make love to you . . .more 
than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life,"   'Did he just say what I
think he said?!'  "would you slap my face and call 
me a lunatic?  Would you push me away?"
 
I'm breathing very shallow right now, afraid to move.  He's asked his question. 
I can hardly remember what it was.  I take 
a calm steadying breath and twist around to look at him.  He lets go of my head
and lets me turn.  'Oops, shouldn't have 
done that.  I'm staring into those bottomless green/hazel eyes and they are
dark, his lids are at half-mast, his lips are wet 
and look so soft.  They are parted slightly, and I can see the tip of his tongue
between his teeth.  That lock of hair is falling 
across his forehead.  My god, has any creature ever looked this sexy?  Do I want
to be cured?  Don't think, Dana.  Don't 
think.
 
'I can see the desire on his face.  I feel the heat pouring off him.  But is
that what it is?  Lust, desire?  No, he said make 
love to me.  But that would mean, by his own definition that he ... no, ... that
he's ... in love with me?  Is that possible?  
Mom, where are you now?
 
He's still staring at me.  Watching me watching him.  He has gone still, as
though afraid to startle me.  'What was the 
question?'  'Slap his face and call him a lunatic?'
 
"Dana?"  He reaches up again and puts his hands on the side of neck this time. 
His eyes lock with mine.  He waits.
 
"I don't think . . ."
 
"Don't think, just tell me what you feel."
 
"It's so crazy in some ways Mulder, but I don't think ...I could...I can't."
 
 
 
I'm the biggest ass in the world.  Did she just say what I think she said?  My
heart is in my stomach and I am ready to cry 
over my blatant stupidity.  How could I have asked her that?  I can't look at
her.  I always told myself that if by some 
miracle something ever did happen, it would be because she came to me, because
she initiated it.  I blew it.  She can't. 
God the words hurt even worse than I thought they would.  Then I feel her hand
on my shoulder and hear her whisper.
 
 
He folds in on himself a bit, his head hangs down and he looks at his lap.  I
realize he has taken this as a rejection.  Did I 
mean it to be?  No! Suddenly, I can't let him think that.  Just feel.    He's
pulling away.  It isn't what I want.  Damn the 
consequences.  I rephrase my answer.
 
"Mulder, I don't think I could push you away."  My voice is barely above a
whisper.
 
 
WHAT?  Am I hallucinating again.  I look up at her.  She doesn't think she could
push me away? She doesn't think she 
could push me away!  God my head is swimming.  I want to make love to her more
than anything I've ever wanted in my 
life.  I'm dizzy.  My heart is beating a mile a minute.  She is so beautiful
right now, staring into my eyes, I can't breath.  
 
Pull her in, Fox!  That's right, Dumbo, nothing happens if you don't move.  God,
she isn't pulling away.  I am two seconds 
away from kissing her when I get bitten by the milk-toast asshole bug and I've
got to tell her how I feel and give her one 
last chance to walk away.  The way I feel might frighten her.    I'm an utter
idiot, but I have to tell her.  I have to make sure 
she wants this.  The only thing worse than not being able to touch her would be
to touch her and have her regret it the 
next day.  I couldn't take that.  If we do this, I know I'll never be able to
look back.  I'll be lost.  She has the power to utterly 
destroy me.
 
PART 3:  (O.K., RATED, NC-17, Here's where we rock 'n roll).
 
His head snaps up and his eyes lock with mine again.  His eyes are suspiciously
wet.  I feel the gentle pressure of his 
hands on my neck, pulling me forward.   My body twists around and I kneel
between his legs, put my hands out to sides of 
his shoulders to catch myself from falling forward.  He is moving my head so
slowly, it's almost torture.  Still doesn't want 
to startle me.  He brings me within a hair's breath of his lips, his eyes still
locked on mine.  He is searching my eyes.  I 
think about the feel of his hands on my neck.  All he sees there is desire.  His
lips are just barely brushing mine when he 
says, "I've wanted to touch you for so long . . . you're so beautiful . . .
you're so smart it scares me . . . and no one . . . no 
one has ever turned me on like you do with just a look . . . god, just a look,
Dana, and my knees are like jelly . . . just a 
smile and my stomach is butterflies."  He's breathing faster now, a little
heavier.  I can't believe what he's saying.  I can 
feel his hand trembling on my neck where he touches me.  Then the kicker.
 
"God help me, Dana, I'm so in love with you."  Mom was right!I gasp and my mouth
opens and my eyes go wide.  Before 
any sound comes out, his mouth is on mine.  'His lips are sideways on mine. 
He's chewing gently on my top lip, oh god.  
He is sucking on my bottom lip.  God, I'm trembling now.   His tongue is pushing
gently against my teeth.'  I open my 
mouth and feel his tongue slide in, slow.  Then he starts exploring every
millimeter of the inside of my mouth and sucking 
my tongue into his mouth. ' O.K., I'm a puddle now.  Dishrag Dana, that's me.' 
I want this more than I even realized.  
Well, Mom, he got tired of behaving himself.
 
My body collapses on his and my hands land on his shoulders.  He is now cupping
my hips with his fingers.  He comes up 
for breath and pulls me hard against him.  I can feel his erection pushing into
my stomach.  There is an answering quiver 
and gush of warmth between my legs.  He looks at me a second longer and then
gently leans forward and pulls me to my 
feet.  I feel the loss of his body heat.  It's an empty feeling.  I want that
heat.  I want more of it.  I utter one word, 
"Bedroom."
 
Another beat and he bends down, putting an arm underneath my knees and swings me
up into his arms.  I grab his neck 
for support and he cradles me against his chest and walks gracefully, despite my
weight down the hall and into my 
bedroom and deposits me gently on the bed.  I forget how strong he is.
 
I opened my mouth to say his name and his fingers came to rest on my lips.  I
nod my head in understanding and he 
straightens and walks over the phone on the nightstand and turns off the ringer
and turns on the machine.  I smile.  He 
walks to the door and shuts it.  He walks to the dresser and lights the lone
candle on top.  It's cinnamon scented, and he 
inhales and turns to me with that quirky smile.  
 
"Mulder . . ."
 
"Fox."
 
"What?"
 
"Would you call me Fox, especially when I touch you."
 
"But you said no one could call you Fox."  He sighs and looks at the ceiling,
then back at  me.
 
"You did, this morning in the office, twice."
 
"You noticed that?"
 
"Yes."
 
"You didn't correct me."
 
"No."
 
"Why?"
 
He looked at the ceiling again as though looking for guidance and again turned
to me.  His voice was quiet, subdued.
 
"I decided a long time ago that no one could call me Fox, nobody . . . except .
. . The One.  I would want her to call me 
Fox."
 
"The One?"
 
"Yeah, you know.  I can't believe I'm telling you this."  His smile is
self-deprecating.
 
"Tell me, please."
 
"The One - The One I ...  fell in love with.  The One I wanted . . ."  He
swallowed hard before spitting out the last part.  
"wanted to spend my life with."
 
"But  .."
 
"You are The One, Scully.  I've known it for a long time."  His eyes were
tearing now, and I nodded my head at him.  I 
couldn't talk, I wanted him so much.  He had no idea.
 
"Mul ..., oops, I mean Fox.  I don't know what to say ..."  A tear leaked out of
the corner of my eyes and started a slow 
track down my face.
 
"Shhhh, don't respond to that now." He put his finger to his own lips.  "I don't
expect a response, I just needed to tell you.  
I don't expect you to feel the same way.  I'm thinking, But I do feel the same
way.  He continued, "Right now, I just want ... 
you."  He catches the tear on his finger and licked it off with his tongue.  
 
I'm beginning to get it.  We seem to be moving in slow motion.  It's sort of
like a spell where the rest of world has 
disappeared and he doesn't want to break the spell.  I nod again.  He comes over
to the bed, and sits beside me, our hips 
touching.  He simply reaches up and unclasps the top button on my dress.  I
watch his face as he moves down to the 
second button.  He leans in and the kissing begins again.  I pull his arms
roughly and he tumbles onto the bed.  He lifts his 
face and chuckles.  His hand makes its way to my thigh and brushes lightly
before coming up to undo another button.  I'm 
not wearing a bra.  My breasts feel heavy - 
 
He whispers, "Only whispers . . ."  I nod my head.  "What do you want? What do
you feel?  Tell me."
 
I'm too caught up in the anticipation, the arousal to be embarrassed.  I just
blurt it out, but in a whisper.  "Want you.  Fox, 
your touch makes my breasts ache."
 
A small groan slips out of his throat and pushes away the material of my dress
and drops his mouth to the underside of 
my breast at the same time.  I gasp a little and then let out a low, shuddering
moan when his mouth latches onto my 
nipple.  His other hand pays attention to the other one, first running his thumb
over it, then cupping the whole breast and 
squeezing slightly, and then lightly twisting the nub between his thumb and
forefinger.  His tongue is laving my other 
nipple and then sucking on it alternately.  I don't know which sensation to pay
attention to there are so many.  So I just 
moan again.
 
"MMMMM", he vibrates against the nipple.  I almost choke on the sensation that
causes, the vibrations coursing straight to 
my uterus.  I whimper.
 
"Tell me," he breathes against my breast before laving the nipple again.  
 
I am beyond coherent thought at this point and just tell him what I can croak
out.  "Har...harder."
 
He scraps his teeth over the nipple, causing me to yelp and then latches on with
vigor, his hand coming up to support the 
underside of my breast and squeeze gently, while his mouth suckles, slow, but
sooo hard.  God you can't really suck on it 
too hard, can you?  I buck a little on the bed and his hand slides down to my
knee and begins a journey up my thigh.  I 
feel his hand inching towards its goal and the words just seem to slip out
again.  "Touch me."  I'm totally out of control.  
Admit it, Dana, you're in love with him.  No one has ever gotten me this excited
before penetration.  Even with penetration 
for that matter.  I have no recollection of  feeling these sensations ever
before.  His hand reaches the juncture where my 
thigh meets my groin.
 
Now it's his turn to gasp.  He looks up startled.  "You're not wearing any
underwear?" he whispers.
 
I smile and chuckle.  "No, guess not."
 
"Good thing I didn't know that before, I never would have made it in here."  I
chuckle again.  "Scully, you can stop me 
anytime you want.  
 
"Dana, call me Dana."
 
"O.K. Dana, just tell me and I'll stop if you get uncomfortable with this." 
 
"Mulder?"
 
"Fox."
 
"Fox?"
 
"MMM, HMM?"
 
"Keep going.  I want you to touch me everywhere.  Show me.  Make love to me."  
 
"HhuuuuHhh," is all he says.  I know the feeling!
 
Without further adieu, he slides his fingers over my red wiry curls and then
sinks two fingers inside me and runs his thumb 
over my nub at the top of my lips.  My hips buck off the bed and I let out a
little shout.  He stops suddenly and pulls away.  
My arms reach up to prevent it until I see him fumbling with the button on the
dress.  I help him until they are all undone 
and he pulls the fabric away from my body and just stares.  His eyes travel from
the tip of my toes to the top of my head.  
He pulls me up so he can take the dress off my arms and tosses it to the floor. 
 
"I have never seen anyone as stunningly beautiful or incredibly sexy as you,
Dana.  I'm stunned."  
 
'What do you say to that?'  I blush.  He lowers himself between my legs, pulling
my legs over his shoulders and sinks his 
face between my legs.  I can feel his tongue lapping my lips and the sensation
is incredible.  His tongue stiffens and 
pushes inside me and I let out another yelp.  Two fingers sink inside me again
and those lips, those beautiful lips move to 
close around my center of pleasure and pull . . . and nip . . . and suck . . .
and "ooohhh,  gooodd, Foooxxx."  He takes me 
right to the edge and pulls back, right to the edge and pulls back.
 
He kneels up and puts his hands on either side of my waist, looking at my face. 
I can see my wetness on his lips and 
shining on his chin, and it drives me insane.  I reach up and bring him down to
kiss me again, tasting myself on those lips 
and licking his chin.  Now it's his turn to groan.  I suddenly realize he is
still dressed.
 
I whisper, "Lose the clothes Mulder."  He leaps off the bed and stops.  I raise
an eyebrow. 
 
"Fox," he corrects me.  
 
I smile.  "Get naked, Fox."
 
Without losing eye contact, he slowly jimmies his tee shirt out of his jeans,
then plays with hem before crossing him arms 
and slowly, so slowly, pulling it up and over his head.  He stops with his arms
above his head still tangled in the shirt, his 
biceps bulging from the position they are in and his chest exposed to my eyes. 
Good lord, no one should get that many 
good attributes.  His body is so well toned.  I can see the definition of pecs,
they are muscular but not overly so.  His torso 
tapers down to his small waist.  His abs are a washboard.  There is dark hair,
wispy on his chest and gathering thickness 
as it travels down the V under his navel and disappears into his jeans.  He
grins at my reaction, throws the tee shirt on the 
floor.  He unsnaps his fly and lowers the zipper, just an inch or so, so that
the jeans fall a bit and ride even lower on his 
hips.  He closes his eyes, leans his head over backwards a little sighs when his
erection is given more room.  Good lord, 
he's stripping for me, teasing me.  I begin to pant.  I know my eyes are wide,
and my mouth is hanging open, but I can't 
help it.  I can see his hipbones outlined in his snug underwear.  I can see the
top of his J. Crews.  And yes, I can see his 
erection poking the material up over his waistband.  I gulp.
 
He bends over to remove his socks and then stands up slowly again.  He turns
around so his back is to me.  I can tell he's 
unzipped his jeans and he hooks his thumbs on the side of his jeans and moves
them down, first one side, then the other, 
slowly.  "Uuuhh," is all the sound I can make.  This slow tease is such a
turn-on.  He finally slides them down his legs and 
steps out of them.  He straightens as I admire his ass.  Perfect.  Muscular, not
to big, not too small.   He turns slowly to 
face me and hooks his hands into the elastic of his boxers.  He smiles that lop
sided smile at me and I grunt again.  
Seems that the only sound I can make as I slide on my stomach to the edge of the
bed.  He gently lifts the elastic up and 
out and slides his hands down his thighs, taking the underwear with him.  He
lets them fall, flicks them away with his foot.  
He spreads his legs a little, plants his feet, puts his hands on his hips and
tilts his head back, and groans a small groan.  
My eyes slide down to his stomach and I gasp. His erection is full.  I can see
it bobbing slightly with the throbbing of blood.  
It stands straight up, hovering about an inch and half from his stomach muscles. 
My god, the head ends just above his 
navel.  He is big, really big.  And big around, thick.  I groan just looking at
it and motion him to come to me with my hand.
 
He walks to me slowly and stops with his knees against the bed.  He lifted his
knee to climb onto the bed, but I stopped 
him with a hand on his thigh.  "I want to look at you."  I reach up and cup his
testicles gently with one hand.  They spill 
over both sides of my hand.
 
"Dana, oh god..."  he gasped.  I propped myself up on one elbow and slid the
cupping hand up to the base of his penis 
and squeeze gently.  A drop of precome oozed out of the head and I closed my
eyes slowly and opened them again.  My  
hands are small, the fingers barely make it around the base to meet.
 
 
The look on her face when I got undressed was like a dream.  She was devouring
my body with her eyes, the way I'd 
done to her so many times when she wasn't looking.  I wanted to tease her.  I
was shaking with anticipation.  How would 
she react when I was completely naked?  Then, finally naked, I groaned a sigh of
relief for two reasons.  One, my 
throbbing erection was finally free of the confining clothes.  Two, she wasn't
running from the room.  I was afraid, once I 
was naked, she would snap out of whatever mood got us here and she would have a
sudden attack of, 'What am I doing?'
 
She's motioning me to come to her with that 'come hither' look on her face.   
I'm about to get on the bed when her palm 
connects with my thigh, stopping me.  The heat of her little white hand gave me
a shiver.  What will she do?  Does she 
want to look more?  Let her get used to you slow.  Softly, she says, "I want to
look at you."
 
Oh, Christ, she's touching me.  So gentle, like she's holding glass, her hand
cupped under my sacs.  I feel her slide up 
and grip me firmly at the base...and squeeze.  My knees trembled a little and I
felt the release of a drop of fluid from my 
tip.  God, she's looking at it intently.  Will she do that?  I can barely
breath.  Don't move Fox.  God, those lips, how many 
dreams...How many fantasies...  Holy shit, she's taking me into her mouth.
 
 
"My lord, Fox, your perfect, " I whispered.  I could admire his endowments all
night but I can't wait any longer.  I hum as I 
lap the fluid off the head with my tongue.  I revel in the hiss that comes from
him.  I looked up and made eye contact, 
opened my mouth and slowly but steadily take his shaft into my mouth.  A long
moan comes from his throat and he 
reaches out to grab the post at the foot of my bed with one hand, the other
wrapping into my hair.  His knees have 
buckled slightly and he leans into the bed for support.  I can feel him
throbbing against the back of my throat and I am only 
about 3/4 of the way down his shaft.  My mouth is full.  
 
I wrap my hand around the bottom again and move gently up and down, flattening
my tongue along the underside and 
swishing back and forth.  The grunts, groans and hisses coming from him urge me
on.  I feel myself get wetter in 
response to his excitement.  I'm so relaxed.  Why have I feared this?  I want to
give him more pleasure than he's ever had 
before.  I want to be different than the other women in his past.  I'd give me
anything he asked for.  He doesn't know that 
yet, but I would.  I alternate tonguing and sucking on him.  He is so rigid. 
Any lingering nervousness or doubts fled the 
second I touched him and felt and heard him respond.
 
I shift up onto my knees bending at the waist for better leverage and grab both
of his rear end cheeks and slide down on 
him as far as I can go.  His breath is ragged.  He feels like soft silk over
steel.  The head hits the back of my throat and I 
stop breathing.  Then I take a deep breath through my nose.  Before I can think
about it and change my mind, I relax my 
throat, tilt my chin up and push . . . and feel him sliding down my throat. 
Once he passes my tongue, it's easy the rest of 
the way.  I don't' stop until my nose is buried in his wiry hair.  My jaw aches
a little but it's O.K.  I squeeze my lips tight, 
release them and slide back a little.
 
My lord, he is screaming my name!
 
"Daaannnaa, oh Jesus, Daaannnaa, oh god, Daaannnaa, I can't believe . . ."
 
I slide back and down again. 
 
"Oh god, no one's ever ... aahh Christ .. oh god ... Dana, I'm going to, . . .I
don't want . . . not yet..."
 
He is totally incoherent and I love it.  A giddy sense of power sweeps through
me.  I've never deep throated anyone in my 
life.  I've surprised and shocked myself, but I am so relaxed and it feels so
right.  I want to taste him.  I breathe slowly 
through my nose.  His hands are on my shoulders, trying to gently push me back
and I shake my head slightly, as much 
as my full mouth will let me, and slide my free hand between his cheeks.  He is
trying to stay still.  I take him into my 
mouth and down my throat again.  His musky smell has me totally wild.  When he
is buried in my throat, I firmly but gently 
push my finger against his sphincter and apply pressure.  God, his moaning is so
arousing.  As the tip of my finger pushes 
past his tight ring of muscle, I feel an incredible throb in his shaft.  He gets
even bigger for a second, a beat, and then 
explodes into my throat.  His low, sexy voice yells my name and he keeps
moaning.
 
He finally loses control, the ability to stand still and starts thrusting into
my mouth and down my throat.  "Ahhh" - throb, 
gush -"Dana" - throb, gush --"Ahhh" - throb, gush --"Dana" - throb, gush--"Ahhh"
- throb, gush--"Dana" - throb, gush.  I 
pull back some so I can taste him and suck hard on the end of his shaft.   Then
I just support him with my hands on his 
thighs until his spasms stop.  His knees are buckling for real now and I move
back on the bed, releasing him, and giving 
him room to flop down on the bed.  He does, and rolls onto his back, breathing
hard.
 
Ohmyfuckinggod!  I've died and gone to heaven.  My tough but dainty, oh so
professional, prim and proper partner, the 
one they call the 'ice queen' at work - just swallowed my entire cock.  Wild,
beautiful, crazy, tiny Dana just deep 
throated me!  That's not an easy feat.  I know, others have tried, and failed. 
It's not arrogance, just a fact.  My penis is 
rather large, long  and about two inches around when I'm fully erect.  I never
actually measured it.  Seemed silly.  One of 
the few worthwhile gifts from my father is my sexual anatomy.  And I had never
been so hard in my entire life.
 
I used to be proud of it when I was younger, until I realized it wasn't always a
great thing.  Most women I'd been with were 
happy with it, but were totally unconcerned if I wasn't all the way in.  If they
were full, they were happy.  My wishes be 
damned.  I got used to paying attention to it and not wanting to get too rough
and hurt them, always paying attention to my 
depth.  I would have to try to remember this with her.  She was such a small
woman.  I could only assume she was small 
inside.
 
When I slid down her throat, my brain short-circuited.  Those beautiful, pouting
lips were buried in my pubic hair.  Her silky 
auburn hair is tickling my thighs.  One look and my knees almost gave out. 
Thank god she had a bedpost to hand on to.  
The pressure from her finger on my rectum felt good.  It was making that
sensitive skin between my balls and ass tighten 
deliciously.  But, Christ, when her tiny finger pressed inside, before I
realized her intent, the jolt of electricity that ran down 
my shaft and gripped my balls made me dizzy. It didn't want to come that
quickly.  I'd wanted this first touching to last.  
But that jolt, god help me, it was all over.
 
I just ejaculated so hard my stomach hurts and my balls ache now.   I'm staring
at the ceiling with my mouth hanging open 
like an idiot who just had a lobotomy!  Say something, Fox, say something. 
She's waiting.
 
 
I lay on my side watching the expression on his face.  His eyes are wide.  His
lips are parted.  He's still panting.  I see awe 
and disbelief on his face.  He shivers suddenly and turns to me and folds me
into an embrace, his head in the crook of my 
neck.
 
"Oh god, Dana.  I'm totally stunned.  That was so incredible.  I've never
experienced anything like that before in my life.  
I've never come that hard.  No one's ever taken me . . . that deep."   He sighs, 
"I didn't want to come that quickly."
 
"It's O.K. Mul . . . Fox.  I wanted you to come.  I wanted to taste you."  He
groans and smiles.
 
"You are so unearthly beautiful."
 
"I am not, stop it."
 
He shakes his head.  "Dana, you have the kind of beauty that makes men do a
double take and walk into a pole!"
 
"Don't be ridiculous."
 
"I'm not.  I think that's part of what makes you damn irresistible."
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"God, you're so stunning, it hurts to look at you sometimes, and you have
absolutely no clue how beautiful you are.  There 
are lots of beautiful women in the world.  But trust me, they know they are
beautiful, and they use it."
 
"Thank you.  I don't agree, but I'm glad you think so."
 
"Now lady, I'm not done with you yet."
 
"I'm counting on it."
 
He rolls onto me and proceeds to touch, lick or kiss every square inch of my
body.  He takes his time.  And, god help me, I 
feel it.  It's like he's worshipping my body.  He tends to my face, lips, neck,
breasts, stomach, hips.  I feel so sexy, so 
beautiful and so loved.  Everywhere he touches me, everywhere his lips suck my
skin, his tongue licks and his fingers 
caress.  I feel the waves of his love and desire wash over me.  I've never felt
it before.  He wasn't lying.  It's new, it's 
exciting, it's frightening, it's the most erotic feeling I've ever had.  I'm in
love with him.
 
He stops at my feet and travels his way back up my legs.  His face is inches
from my wetness.  He looks up at me and 
makes eye contact.  I am panting with anticipation.   "Dana, what you do to me. 
I'm hard as a rock again.  I'm so hard, I 
ache."  I shiver at his words, loving that I have this effect on him.
 
With that, he sinks between my legs and his tongue laps at my wetness.  I groan. 
Once again, like last time, he stiffens 
his tongue and slides inside me, lapping out my wetness.  All I can do is
whimper.  Then he finds my bundle of nerves at 
the top of my lips and begins to suck on it.  Two fingers slide inside me and
begin massaging the walls of my vagina.  Now 
it's my turn to be incoherent.  He lifts his mouth briefly and my hips buck
involuntarily, seeking the contact again.  He 
whispers, "Tell me, Dana, tell me what you feel."  And the lapping, nipping, and
sucking begins again.
 
"Fox, oh yes, oh god . . soo good . . ahh.. what you're...doing...to me ... it
throbs ... it tingles...so hot...I want... I can't ... 
oh Fox, please, please ... oh I'm dying...can't take...aaahhh.  I hear a scream
as my orgasm trembles through me.  I 
realize the scream is mine a few seconds later.  The spasms are hard, intense
and start in my vagina.  From there my 
uterus and they ripple out over my abdomen and through my whole body, forcing my
hips to buck, my back to arch, and 
my head to thrash back and forth.  It is a long, keening, intense orgasm.  I've
never experienced one this intense and he 
hasn't even been inside me yet.  I lay there trembling, feeling my muscles
continue to quiver and grip his fingers.  If I 
thought I was wet before, I'm really wet now.
 
He slides up my body, dragging his skin against mine.  His eyes are dark, his
lids heavy.  His look is reverent and holds a 
little awe, just like he described.  His words come back to me.  'Reverence,
mixed with respect, maybe a little awe too . . . 
he has to be in love with you . . . god help me, Dana, I'm so in love with you .
. . you're The One, Scully.'
 
He clears his throat softly.  He whispers, "Your passion is so beautiful, you
take my breath away.  I've never seen 
anything so beautiful as what I just saw."
 
I blush.  "I've never felt anything that beautiful.  God Fox, no one's ever made
me . . ."
 
"Tell me."
 
"Made me come without  ... without penetration."  I look away, suddenly a little
embarrassed at my inability to find the right 
words.  He puts his fingers under my chin and turns my head to look at him. 
Penetration wounds so clinical.
 
"I'm glad I could give you a first since you did the same for me."  He smiles
that masculine 'I'm so proud of myself' smile.  
For the first time it doesn't irk me.  It's endearing.  He deserves to feel
good.  Then I realize that his arousal is pushing into 
my thigh, throbbing.  "Tell me what you want."  He dips his head to seek my
nipple again and desire rips through me 
again.  My god, I just came and it's starting all over again.
 
"Ahh, Fox, I want, I want, oh please . . ."  Real coherent Dana.
 
"Please what?"
 
"Make love to me."
 
"I am.  That's what I've been doing."
 
"Pleeeeaase, Fox."
 
"Please what?  Be specific."  Tell him what you know you want!
 
"Please, Fox, I want you inside me.   God, please, bury yourself inside me."  He
gasps, his hips buck against my thigh.  
He slides his hands under my ass, gripping my ass cheeks and pulling them gently
apart.  I raise my knees and drape my 
legs over his hips.  I can feel the head of his arousal teasing my lips.  He is
so big.  I can't wait to feel him push inside me.    
I can feel my wetness dripping down my thighs.  Christ, it's like Niagra Falls
down there, an almost steady stream of warm 
fluid.  I grip his shoulders.  He is so hard he doesn't need to guide himself
into me.  He props himself on one elbow, one 
hand still on my ass, tilting my hips up. 
 
"Look at me Dana."  I lock eyes with him.  He slides into me, slowly, steadily,
inch by inch.  I groan low, feeling his head hit 
my cervix.  "God, Dana, you feel like hot, tight honey, god you're so tiny.  So
small, so tight."  My eyes flutter shut.  I can't 
help it.
 
I've never been this full.  I relax and feel my walls stretching to accommodate
him.  It's been a long time.  I look down, and 
pull in my breath as I realize he is not all the way in.  Almost two inches of
him is still exposed so I reach down and slide 
my middle and forefinger on either side of the base of his shaft.  He moans. 
 
"Want it all."
 
"Dana, you're so small.  I don't want to hurt you."
 
"Want . . . all of you."
 
"Dana, no, listen, you can't.  I'm used to this, to not . . . (he grins a little
sheepishly, no arrogance) to not ... fitting."
 
"No, Fox.  I will take it all."  I reach down with my hands and pull my knees up
level with my chest, tilting my hips up.  I 
spread my legs as far apart as I can.  I feel a little silly for second, but
then look up and see the look in his eyes.  He can't 
believe I'm trying this.  I take a deep breath, relax my whole body.  "Do it."  
 
"Dana? I..."
 
"Dooo iitt."  He braces himself on both elbows, and  lets his weight sink fully
down onto me.  His hips push gently and 
firmly and I feel him meet the resistance of my cervix and stretch it.  I urge
him on.  "Push, hard."
 
"I'll hurt you."
 
"No, push harder."  He takes a deep breath, lays his mouth on mine, and snaps
his hips.  I feel him ram in those last two 
inches or so, to the hilt.  I can feel his pubic bone grind into me.  I felt him
push through my cervix opening up into my 
uterus.  It feels like I have a log between my legs.  I can feel him in my
entire abdomen.  It aches, but it's a delicious ache.  
He groans hoarsely, and I ...well... I scream, into his mouth.  Then I scream
his name as the unexpected orgasm rips 
through me.  "FFFooooxxxx, ahh, god, yesss."  I can feel every spasm grip his
penis because I am stretched so wide.  I 
think I blacked out for a second because my vision went black and then faded
back in.  I finally drift back to earth and look 
up.  His fingers are biting in to my shoulders and he is gritting his teeth. 
I've never been multi-orgasmic.  It was only a 
myth to me, until a few seconds ago.
 
"Dana, don't move," he grunts out.  I am still gripping my knees.  My hips ache
a bit, but I hold as still as I can.  "Don't 
want to come yet," he sputters.  I nod.  Seconds pass.  He finally lets out his
breath and nods.  I let go of my knees and 
my legs sink down and wrap around his hips.  He still fits.  My walls have
stretched a bit and my orgasm has pulled my 
vagina back to accommodate him a little better.  But he's in there tight, real
tight, even after my orgasm.  He looks 
shocked for a few seconds and then gives me that lop-sided grin again and starts
to move.  He pulls out a little and 
pushes back in, pulling a bit further out each time before sinking in again,
allowing my walls to stretch slowly and adjust to 
his size.  Finally, he pulls out until only his head is still inside me, and
then sinks into me again, slow and steady, to the 
hilt.  Again and again and again.  His breathing is ragged.  We are both moaning
now.
 
"Jesus, Dana, you feel so good, so wet, soootight, oh god, I've never felt ...
Dana ...I dreamed... never thought...I'd be 
here...inside you...love you ... so much.  Ahh..."  A tear escapes the corner of
his eye.  "Tell me how you like it."
 
"Long strokes.  Deep, yeah, just like that."  I realize he is being careful,
afraid to hurt me.   "I won't break, Fox.  You don't 
need to be careful."
 
I meet each of his thrusts as his pace increases a little.  My hands slide up
and down his back and cup his butt cheeks 
with my hands.  I slide my hands around to his chest and push my thumbs across
his nipples.  Another grunt sounds from 
that.  I look down now and watch those beautiful stomach muscles bunch as his
hips do the work and push that enormous 
shaft in and out of me.  He is pulling almost completely out and sliding back
in.  His penis is swollen, the veins bulging,  
glistening with my juices.  He stops and looks down too.
 
"Dana ... dear god ..."  He levers himself up and puts his hands on my hips,
pinning them to the bed and begins thrusting 
again.
 
I stutter out, "I've already come twice, you don't need to wait for me."  Then,
"Oh yeah, so good.  Yes, yes, hard, deep, 
harder, as hard as you can.  Come for me."  Something seems to snap inside of
him at my words.  His eyes look wild, his 
head is thrown back, neck muscles straining.  His hips snap once, quick, hard
and he begins to slam into me, so hard, so 
fast.  But his strokes don't shorten.  I'm so full, so stretched, his strokes
are pulling the hood of my clitoris down and he's 
brushing over it with every stroke.  I feel it building again ... I can't
believe it.  I start babbling again.
 
"Oh my god...Fox...this can't...happen again....impossible...Ahhh...Fox...can't
believe...oh god...you're going...to make 
me...come...again.  Ohhh, god.  Ahhh, Fox."
 
"Yes, let go.  Be one with me, Baby.  Be one with me."
 
I feel the first contraction and I shriek, "Fox, ooohh,
god...I...looovvveee...yooouuu..."  I go over the edge again.  Did I 
say that out loud?  I realize I mean it with all my heart.
 
He feels my muscles clamp down on him again, hard.  His head snaps down to look
into my eyes, and he explodes.  
Hoarse, almost agonized cries come from the back of his throat as  his whole
body spasms in orgasm and he holds 
himself pushed into me, an arm now tightly around my waist.  I feel the hot
splash of his semen wash my insides with 
warmth.  He finally stills and winds both arms around my shoulders as his body
sinks onto mine.  His nose is on my neck 
again, nuzzling my hair.  He starts to roll away and I clasp him to me with my
legs and my arms.  "Stay."  I whisper.
 
"Dana, I must be crushing you."
 
"No, I like your weight.  Feels good.  Stay a minute."  He nods.  We lay there
still joined, breathing slowly returning to 
normal.  He brushes my earlobe with his lips.  
 
"That is as close to heaven as I'll ever be," he whispers.  I can hear the tears
in his voice.  He looks up and one spills 
over.  I wipe it away with my thumb and suck it into my mouth.  We kiss
tenderly, the passion spent for the moment.  I look 
at the clock.  It's midnight.  We've been at this for over two hours.  A yawn
overtakes me.  He smiles and rolls off me onto 
his back, dragging me with him.  I lay on top of his body and put my head on his
chest.  We are still touching everywhere, 
chest to chest, hip to hips, my legs on top of his.  We've both wept tears for
the overwhelming emotions finally let loose.
 
 
My brain is mush.  Being with her has surpassed all my wildest fantasies. 
Hearing her scream that she loved me had 
pushed me completely over the edge.  It warps my mind that this small,
beautiful, woman found a way to engulf all of me. I 
thought my heart was going to burst when she came as I sank into her completely
for the first time.  Then she screamed 
and I was sure I had hurt her badly, until I felt her walls grip me like a vice. 
I almost lost it right then.  I hadn't seen that 
coming at all.  She's very vocal.  I didn't expect that either.  At work, she's
so reserved, so calm, so in control.  I love it, her 
sounds, her words.  They drive me crazy.
 
I was still in shock that I was buried completely inside her little, wet,
incredibly hot, unbelievably tight tunnel to the hilt.  I'd 
been surprised she took as much of me as she did, before she insisted on trying
to take all of me.  No one has ever 
bothered to try.  Not that I've had sex with that many women, but enough to
know.  I'm reeling from all the emotions and 
sensations coursing through my body.  I'm so deliriously happy and overcome, I
can't stop the tears that leak out despite 
my best efforts to keep them in.  I wouldn't have mattered to me either way. 
Just the fact that she wanted to try, made me 
love her so much.
 
 
"Thank you," I mumble.
 
"For what?"
 
"For making love to me.  You were right.  No comparison."  His arms squeeze my
waist.  
 
"Thank you, you gave me more than one first there too, you know?
 
"I did?"
 
'MMM, HMM.'
 
"Want to share it with me?"  He chuckles again. 
 
"Well, I've never been... ummm.."
 
"Never been...ummm.  Very articulate, Fox."  I give him back his own words to me
earlier, teasing.  He chuckles again, 
and takes a deep breath.
 
"I'm trying to think of a tactful, not crude way to put this."
 
"Fuck tactful, just tell me."  He hoots with laughter.
 
"You never stop amazing me."
 
"Well?"
 
"O.K.  I've never been...uh, ...all the way inside...anyone.  Almost, but not
quite."   His voice drops to a whisper. I could 
barely hear the next part.  "No one has ever wanted or bothered to try."  I look
up and raise an eyebrow at him.  
 
"Go on."  I'm so relaxed.  I feel exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. 
I'm not thinking about what I want to say or 
how I want to say it for the first time in my life.  I feel free, safe, and so
loved.
 
"Then again, I haven't been with that many women."
 
"Right, I believe that one.'
 
"I haven't, or I probably would have found someone who I ... fit ... with... I
better stop before I get into trouble here."
 
"I'll bet all your buddies' hearts bleed for you!"  I giggled. "Tell me about
the feelings."
 
"Why?"
 
"Because it turns me on to hear you put into words how I make you feel.  Because
I want to know every thing about you.  
What makes you feel good?  What turns you on?  What surprises you?"  
 
He is silent for a moment and then says, "You, you and you."
 
"Huh?"
 
"You...make me feel good.  You...turn me on.   You...surprise me."
 
Now I'm the one with tears, happy tears.  He leans up and licks my tears off my
cheek.  I grin like an idiot.  "You still 
haven't answered my original request."
 
"Which was?"
 
"Tell me more about...the firsts, and what you feel."
 
"You first."
 
"O.K., I've never had an orgasm from oral sex, but I told you that already. 
Your turn."  He grins.
 
"O.K., No one has ever...uh...deep throated me.  Your turn."  I grin.  We are
playful now.
 
"O.K., I've never come from just ... full penetration.  Your turn."  
 
He is suddenly serious again.  "That first orgasm I had in your throat, god,
that was the most intense orgasm I've ever 
had.  I came so hard it felt like I was turning inside out, and it wasn't
stopping.  I was in shock.  I just kept ejaculating and 
ejaculating.  Jesus, I'm getting hard just thinking about it."  I felt it then,
his half-erect penis between my legs, bobbing 
gently against my rear cheeks.  "Your turn."
 
"Hmmm, Mul...Fox.  Sorry.  It will take some time to get used to that."
 
"It's O.K., no copping out with small talk," he teased, poking me gently in the
ribs.
 
"I've never come more than once in a ... session.  Fox, do you realize that you
made me come three times and two of 
them were before you ever took a stroke inside me?  And they were ..."
 
"They were?"
 
"Powerful.  I can't even describe it.  Have we exhausted this subject yet?"  I
yawn again.
 
"Not just yet.  I have one more question."
 
"Hmmm?"  He placed his hands on my face and tilts my head up off his chest to
look into my eyes.  
 
"When you had your orgasm..."
 
"Which one?"  I smile goofily.
 
"Let me finish."  I nod.  "The last one.  I heard you...say..."  He swallows
hard.  He whispers, "I heard you say you loved 
me.  Did you mean it, or was it just the heat of the moment?"  He sounds like a
lost, little boy and my heart turns over in 
my chest.  I'm whispering again too.  
 
"Yes, I meant it.   I don't know how it happened or when it happened.  But
somewhere, sometime, I fell for you.  I started 
noticing your eyes and the way you looked at me.  They made me feel warm.  I
started shivering when you touched me.  I 
wanted you to touch me, but thought I shouldn't want it.  You were my partner,
my friend.  I starting catching myself 
staring at your ass when you didn't know I was watching."  He's smiling now. 
"Then I started to be anxious when we were 
apart more than a day or so.  I wanted to be with you all the time.  But I was
so afraid to say the words or admit it, even to 
myself because there would be no going back.  But knowing that you felt the same
way, I didn't have to hold back 
anymore.  I held back anyway until...until you just gave me that mind-melting
orgasm.  I couldn't hold it in any longer.  Out 
there, in the living room, wanting you to touch me, the craving hit me so
suddenly, but I was afraid to tell you, afraid to let 
go.  Oh, yeah, and then there are the dreams."
 
"Dreams?"  I blush incredibly red, realizing how silly it is after what we just
shared, and the fact that we are naked still.  He 
laughs outright now.
 
"You're blushing?  You have to tell me now!"  I giggle nervously.
 
"Well... I would lay here at night and fantasize about what it would feel like
to kiss you, touch you, feel you inside me.  I 
figured that was a safe, secret way to take care of what I wanted with no risk. 
I could have my little fantasy and no one 
had to know.  But it backfired.  It just made me want you more.  And then I
would fall asleep and dream that you 
were...uh...that I was..."
 
"You were?"
 
"I was having sex with you."
 
"No shit?"
 
"Yeah.  Well, anyway, in none of these dreams were you wearing any clothes.  You
were good, too.  Lately I've been 
dreaming of you almost every night."  I hide my face in his chest again and feel
his contented chuckle rumble through his 
chest. 
 
"No kidding?"
 
"No kidding, but..."
 
"But?  Uh, oh, there's a but."
 
"In those dreams, you were not...ummm, quite so well endowed...and...but... 
God, I'm sooo bad."  I was hiding my head 
again.
 
"What?  Dana, tell me!  How bad?"
 
I hesitate and then blurt it out.  "About a month or so ago I started waking up
from those dreams having an orgasm."  I 
hear him suck in his breath and his penis gets hard again and teases my rear
end.  He must be trying to picture it.  "But, 
uuh, I never felt like...like..."
 
"Like?"  His voice is husky. 
 
 "Like I wanted to absorb you completely.  Like I'd cry and die if you didn't
push into me one more time.  Like we 
were...one person, two halves of a whole.  I felt that tonight for the first
time in my life."  I sighed loudly.  "Still, though, 
those dreams were so erotic, I can get wet just thinking about them.  It's
starting again.  Oh, god, Fox, you make me so 
wet."
 
 
I can't believe I'm hearing this.  I can't believe I'm hard again.  Hearing that
she fantasized about me, dreamt about me, 
woke up having an orgasm after dreaming about me!  That I make her wet.  I feel
giddy.  I want to make her dreams come 
true.  
 
What had she said?  She wanted to hear what I felt.  It turns her on to hear me
put into words what I'm feeling.  This is too 
easy.  That is what she wants?  That what she gets.  I'd give her anything she
wants.  Anything.  It's always been hard for 
me to say what I feel to anyone, except on the topic of my sister.  What I think
was easy, sure, but what I felt?  That was 
tough.  But now that my heart is on my sleeve and my feelings are out in the
open, it's like a weight is off my shoulders.  I 
opened the dam to the floodgate and now I can't stop it.  I'm not afraid
anymore.  When was the last time that was true?
 
Suddenly, she asks, "How long have you felt this way about me?"
 
"A long time."
 
"Give me a ball park."
 
"Ummm, about five years, I guess."
 
"Five years!  Why didn't you tell me!?"
 
"You're kidding, right?  You thought I was a nut case.  Besides, I did tell you
once."
 
"When?"
 
"After the Bermuda Triangle incident when I disappeared and reappeared.  I
called you over to my bedside and just spit it 
out.  I think you're response was, 'Oh, Brother.'  You thought I was delirious,
or joking.  I wasn't either."
 
"Oh, god, Fox, I'm sorry."
 
"It's all right.  At first I tried to deny my feelings because I knew you didn't
feel the same way.  You wouldn't allow yourself 
to feel anything for me, other than friendship.  You were too much the
professional.  That didn't work, the more I tried to 
deny it, the more you drove me crazy."
 
"Then what?  After the denial."
 
"Then I went through a period of trying to replace you.  Or rather, replace my
feelings for you with someone else.  I 
thought if I could focus on someone else, my feelings for you would fade and
transfer to someone else."
 
"You're a psychologist and you thought that would work?"
 
"Ouch.  Not really, but I was desperate.  And no, that didn't work either.  I
dated a little, quietly, but they were never as 
smart as you, as loving and forgiving as you, as understanding as you.  And they
certainly were never as beautiful as you.  
They weren't you, period."  She was a little teary now, but I figured I might as
well give her the whole scoop.  "I'd get to 
that point in every date where you are supposed to kiss them good night.  And
your face would swim in front of my mind's 
eye.  I wanted it to be you I was kissing.  It wasn't fair to them.  I couldn't
let them believe something that wasn't true.  I 
wasn't interested in a relationship with them."
 
Her voice came out as a squeak.  "Did you sleep with any of them?"  I looked
down at her and smiled, realizing the 
thought bothered her.
 
"No.  I came close once."
 
"Close?"
 
"Yeah, got all the way to the bedroom, even got naked."
 
"And?"  Her voice was a whisper.
 
"I couldn't do it."
 
"You mean use the girl?"
 
"No, I mean I couldn't do it, literally.  I couldn't even get excited.  It was
embarrassing.  All I could think about was you.  
We weren't even an item and I felt like I was being unfaithful."
 
"Really?"
 
"Really."
 
"what did you tell her?"
 
"Before I could make a complete ass out of myself she pulled away and asked me,
'Who is she?'"
 
"What did you say?"
 
"I said, I'm sorry.  I don't know what I'm doing here.  You guessed right.  I'm
in love with someone else.  This isn't going to 
happen.  She was pretty good about it."
 
"Who was it?"
 
"Doesn't matter.  I was honest with her in the end.  Then, well, then I realized
I was doomed.  I was in love with a womanw 
ho would never look at me as a man.  A partner, a colleague, maybe even a
friend, but never as a potential mate.
 
"You were wrong."
 
"Yeah, but I didn't know that then.  So I just tried to hide it from you. 
Didn't want to scare you away from working with me.  
I had to be able to see you.  You were my life line.  But it was hard
sometimes."
 
"Oh, Fox..."
 
"There were a couple of times, right after I'd thought I'd lost you when I would
think, 'life is too short.'  I've got to tell her.  
She can't die never knowing how I feel about her."
 
"I wish you had."
 
"Me too.  But then you got better and I would get terrified of losing you all
together, losing your firnedship.  I couldn't face 
that, couldn't risk it."
 
"You thought I wouldn't work with you if you told me?"
 
"Yeah.  Dana, you never gave me even one little hint that you returned my
feelings.  I fyou had, I wouldn't have been able 
to control myself.  I know I wouldn't have."
 
"What changed?"
 
"You gave me a hint."
 
"What hint?"
 
"You ogled my body at the front door."
 
"I did not ogle your body!"
 
I laughed.  "Yes, you did.  We almost had a repeat of the office."
 
"I guess I did.  That was your hint?"
 
"That and in the office and later when you sat against me on the couch and...you
didn't stop me."
 
"Stop what?"
 
"I touched you.  I told you to stop me.  You didn't.  That was it.  I lost what
little control I had left.  I had to try.  I couldn't 
hide it anymore."  I looked down at her.  Her beautiful auburn hair was lying
across my chest.  I felt so relieved to have this 
all off my chest.  I whispered, "Dana, do you know how much I need you?  How
much I love you?"
 
She lifted her head and slid her hands up my chest and down my arms.  "Take me
again, Fox.  I need you too.
 
 
He groans and firmly rolls me over onto my back, pulls my arms over my head,
pinning them above my head with one 
arm, and slides into me in one swift, seamless move.   I moan and arch my back. 
He begins moving immediately, slow 
and steady.  The urgency is gone.  This is languid and slow and no less erotic
than his fiery passion of earlier.  I have lost 
all traces of sleepiness.  He drops his lips to my neck and begins talking,
softly, hoarsely.  I can hear his passion, his 
respect, his awe, his love for me.  He braces himself on his elbow of the other
arm.  He's so tall he can easily reach above 
my head to hold my wrists against the mattress with one hand.
 
"God, Dana - out - what you do to me - in - I have no control around you - out -
I just brush you - in - accidentally - 
out - and I can't breath - in - when you turn those - out - blue eyes on me - in
- my heart races - out -  when you 
touch me anywhere - in - to comfort me - out - or out of concern - in - even
innocently - out -- I get hard -- in - soooo 
hard - out -- for you - in."  
 
He hasn't alternated his slow, steady pace.  His words inflame me and I feel the
tension coiling in my body.  He moves a 
little faster now.  A little harder.  I can feel his testicles slap my butt
gently with every long, deep stroke.  
 
"Can you feel it? - out - our hearts beating together - in - our breathing in
sync - out - Can you feel it? - in - how much 
I love - out - you - in - how much I - out - need you - in --aahh - out - god -
in - Dana, I - out - can't - in - believe - 
out - you - in - loovvve - out -  in - mmeeeeeee...."  His body shudders and I
feel his warmth spray gently inside me 
and spread throughout my insides again.  It sends me over the edge and my nails
dig slowly across his back into his skin 
as I just moan his name over and over again as my spasms gently rock my body in
an almost slow motion release.  There 
is a silence for a moment.  I whisper into the dark.
 
"I feel it Fox.  What I feel, I didn't know it was possible to love someone like
this.  I love you very much.  Don't ever doubt 
it.  I have no more doubts.  Damn the consequences.  I can't fight this
anymore."  I feel his gentle sobs as I run my hands 
through his hair.  I gently pull his lips to mine and softly kiss him. 
 
He whispers, "I'm so overwhelmed.  What did I do to deserve you?"  I smile.
 
"You don't know?"
 
"Nope."
 
"Dunce."
 
"Hey!"
 
"Just kidding.  You were my friend, no strings attached.  You've let me grow up,
be me.  You never judged me.  You 
respected my brain, my opinion, even when you didn't agree with me.  You loved
me, Fox, completely, unconditionally, 
like no one has ever loved me, before you ever touched me.  For pity sake, Fox,
all I've done for nearly seven years is 
give you a hard time.  I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."
 
"Hardly.  But you know what?   I think we need each other.  Who else could deal
with us?  I don't deserve you but I want 
us to be happy, Dana.  It's been too long since either of us has been truly
happy."
 
"I've never been this happy ... ever."
 
"Me neither.  Oohh, it's 1:00 AM, we should try to sleep."
 
"O.K."
 
We fell asleep entwined.  I slept soundly, deeply for the first time in ages. 
 
 
PART 4:  (RATED NC-17)
 
I wake up, no sense of how long I've been asleep.  Habit makes me look at the
clock, 7:00 AM  I am on my stomach with 
my arm thrown across his stomach.  I turn and watch him sleeping.  His face is
so peaceful, the corners of his mouth 
turned up a little.  I realize I've seen him sleep many times, but never with a
smile.  My heart seems to swell in my chest.  I 
draw my eyes down to the pulse in his throat, his broad shoulders, toned chest
and see my hand near his navel.  I can't 
help it.  I start brushing my fingers through the springy light hair dusting his
abdomen.  A sleepy sigh sounds and his penis 
leaves it's resting place on his thigh and slowly swings up an out, half-erect,
lying in the crease at the top of his thigh.  A 
shiver goes through me and I feel my nipples tighten as I remember what it felt
like to have him crammed inside me.  I 
can't believe my thoughts have become this crude, but I can't help it.  What is
it about him?  Now that I've tasted his 
passion, the passion I've admired for years.  Well, more than tasted.  I smile. 
I can't get enough of him, looking at him, 
touching him.  For god sakes, I've had more orgasms in one night than I've had
in a year, other than the dreams,  and I'm 
still able to be aroused just by looking at him.  It's Saturday.  I'm
unreasonably grateful he doesn't have to go to work.  It 
seems this has all happened so fast. 
 
But no, not fast.  This growing attachment, growing need, growing love has been
growing up in both of us for over six 
years.  All the dating, flirting, testing, learning has been done.  Being away
for a week, and my mother's pushing of the 
idea, as absurd as it sounded at the time, that I accept what was there for the
taking, made me realize how much I missed 
him, and what was missing in my life.  I just didn't want to admit it.  Not
going back on my word, sticking to my convictions 
was such a habit.  I hadn't even considered a romantic relationship with him was
possible.  It was wrong.  It was against 
the rules and that was the end of it.  I was way too rigid in my thinking
sometimes.  He'd busted down that wall.
 
What was missing?  Love, affection, someone to come home to, someone to cook
for, someone to make love to.  Yes, I'd 
finally had someone make love to me.  He was right, again.  No one ever had. 
There was no comparison.  Not even 
close.  These feelings were a little scary.  This would not be easy.  We would
have to go to work together.  I had another 
week to figure out how to handle that, to talk about it.  Not yet.
 
I circled his still mostly soft penis and stroked lightly, barely touching.  The
response was immediate.  He was getting 
steadily harder.  He groaned.  I glanced up, he was still asleep.  I can't
resist the urge anymore.  I kneel down beside him, 
my knees almost touching his thighs.  I grab the base with one hand, bend down
and swiftly take him into my mouth.  Silk 
over steel.  He swelled to full in my mouth, groaned and woke.  His hands wound
in my hair as I traveled up and down his 
beautiful, rigid shaft, my hand squeezing and pulling at the base.
 
"Oh Christ, God, Dana, what a way to wake up.  Ahh, so good."  Another minute of
this and he pulled me up to kiss, slowly 
and thoroughly.  I stroked him with my hand.
 
I whispered, "Fox, please, I need you again."
 
He gently flipped me onto my stomach, lacing his fingers through my left hand at
the side of my head.  His right arm 
snaked around my waist lifting slightly and he gently enters me from behind,
sliding deep in one stroke.  We moaned 
together, enjoying the feel of entry.  His right hand moves up to grip mine and
winds into my fingers like the left one.  He 
slides in and out, his weight pressing my hips to the mattress.  His thighs
squeeze mine together and create more 
pressure deep inside as he strokes in and out.  
 
I realize that I am whimpering, a sort of warbling sound, "huhuhuhu, huuhh,
huuhhh," with every stroke.
 
"God, Dana, the sounds you make ..."  He suddenly picks up the pace, his strokes
are shorter and faster.  His hips are 
slapping against me, the smacking sound loud in the silence of the morning. 
"I'm so close, baby, so close, you're so wet, 
so small, be one with me again, Dana, come on, come on, baby, come for me 
yeyeyeesss."  We both go over the edge 
together.  We are silent for a few moments.
 
"Fox, it's like I'm starving.  I can't get enough of you."
 
He is chuckling now, his head against my shoulder blades.
 
"What?  What are you laughing about?"
 
"Do I fit your profile now?"
 
"No, thank goodness.  You're young, you're handsome and incredibly sexy.  You're
my age, more or less, but the best 
part is I love you and you're mine, at least for now.  God how I love you."
 
He squeezes me and rolls onto his side.  His smile is so soft, so happy.  "I
love you too.  And I'll do my best to make you 
get enough of me and enjoy every minute of it.  And I'm yours for as long as
you'll put up with me."
 
"Fox, I think Ophelia is cured."  I hear him chuckle.
 
"I hope so."
 
 
"Hungry?" he asked after another hour power snooze.
 
"Yeah, actually I am."
 
"Got any eggs?"
 
"Yup.  Bacon and toast available too.  I'm a regular restaurant."
 
He frowned until he saw my smirk and realized I was teasing.  He smiled.  "My
turn, I'll cook."
 
"You cook?!" I asked incredulously.
 
He grins widely now, knowing I am throwing his skepticism of my culinary skills
back in his face.  "Yes, I cook,"  he replied 
softly.  "I haven't been a bachelor for all these years without picking up a few
skills.  Unless I wanted to live on hot dogs, 
beer and pizza, I had to learn to cook.  Didn't think a steady diet of hot dogs
would be good for my figure."    He leaned 
over and kissed me on the nose and rolled out of bed onto his feet.  He bent
down to retrieve his boxers from the floor.
 
"Wait."  He stops and looks over at me, still bent over.  'God, he's got a great
ass.'  "Stand up."  He does.
 
"Why?" he asks.
 
I whisper.  "I just want to look at you."
 
He gives me that sexy lop-sided grin and turns his body to face me.  He is
splendid in his nakedness with no shyness or 
modesty.  I look at his narrow waist, his tight buttocks, his well-toned torso
and large biceps, his muscular thighs.  My 
eyes travel up and down his body, remembering the feel of those  hip bones
slapping against me.   I grin, just enjoying the 
view.  His smile faded and his eyes closed.  Then I saw why.  He was becoming
aroused, just because I was looking at 
him.  Oh lord.
 
"Dana, if I don't leave now, we'll both go hungry."
 
I giggled.  "How can you possibly be excited after the night and morning we've
just had?"   
 
He chuckled.  "One of a number of mysteries I'd like to solve.  I've never done
it more than twice in one night."  
 
"No?"
 
"No, must have something to do with being in love."  I smiled. 
 
"O.K., love, go make us breakfast."  
 
We ate breakfast in our bathrobes.  I had one of my brother's bathrobes here
that fit him.  We played Scrabble; I kicked 
his ass!  We put on sappy music and danced in my living room.  We laughed, we
both just enjoyed each other's company.  
Then I noticed that there were messages on my machine and hit play.
 
Beep - Agent Scully, Skinner here.  I was trying to reach Agent Mulder last
night to give him an update on the case I just 
assigned to him.  I didn't reach him all night.  His cell phone is turned off
too.  You don't know where he is do you?  Sorry 
to bother you on your vacation.  Anyway, if you see him, have him give me a
call.
 
Beep - Hi Dana, it's Mom.  Just calling to apologize for being so harsh on you. 
I know you have your own life and I 
shouldn't interfere.  But I love you and I want you to be happy.  As happy as I
was with your father.  He would want that for 
you too.  And I do really believe that Mulder loves you and you shouldn't let
him get away.  Anyway, I won't bother you 
about it again.  It's your decision.  I love you.  Call me.
 
Sometimes I wonder why I leave the "unlimited time option on my answering
machine!  I am blushing as I hit stop and 
mortified that he heard all that.
 
"Whheeww," he whistles.  "Guess you did summarize, you left out a few details
about the conversation with your mother."  
 
"I, oh god, I'm so embarrassed.  Why did you have to hear that?  Thanks a lot
Mom."  My eyes were studying the carpet.  
He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.  He leaned into my
ear.  I was getting to really love it 
when he did that.  "Don't be embarrassed.  If that's what made you invite me
over, then I'll be forever grateful to your 
mother.  So tell me, was inviting me to dinner your way of checking out Mom's
theory?"
 
"No, I just missed you and wanted to see you at first.  I didn't think her
impression was valid.  I didn't decide to check it out 
until you were here and asked me to recline between your legs.  I couldn't stop
wanting to touch you.  Wanting you to 
touch me.  I didn't know how to do it.  How to start it.  Isn't that pathetic?"
 
"No, I was pretty much in the same boat."
 
"And, I'd be lying if I said that incident in the office didn't shake me up and
make me think."  I was blushing again and 
knew he could see it.
 
"Did it?  What incident?."  I elbow him slightly in the ribs, then reached
behind me and stroke between his legs through his 
robe.
 
"Oh, that incident."
 
"Well, I knew I missed you.  I knew I was attracted to you.  But I didn't
know..."
 
"Hmmm?"
 
"I didn't think you had those kinds of feelings for me.  I mean, I know you were
excited in the office, but I figured it was 
good old male lust, and nothing more.  But, for me, I couldn't stop thinking
about the way that made me feel.  I guess I 
knew how I felt for a while now, but I couldn't bring myself to accept it or
admit it.  I'd have to admit I was wrong.  But I 
thought, after you reacted to me that way, maybe...just maybe you weren't
teasing me when you did these things...but I 
was so scared.  I was scared I was wrong, Mom was wrong and I'd ruin our
friendship if I made a pass at you.  I would be 
devastated if I lost your friendship."
 
"How did that incident make you feel?"
 
"Scared, warm, excited."
 
"Why scared?  The possible rejection factor."
 
"Yes."
 
"I can't believe you thought I'd reject you.  I was sure you knew how I craved
you and just chose to ignore it."
 
"Possible rejection and because of what you were making me feel.  You make me so
vulnerable, like no one ever has.  Do 
you know how frightening that is for me?  If you were just playing with me,
teasing me, I could make an incredible ass out 
of myself if I acted on it, besides getting my heart broken."
 
"I'll never break your heart.  Warm?"
 
"Yeah, warm, safe, and a little giddy.  I can't think when you're mouth is
anywhere near my neck."
 
"MMMMM, Excited?"  His hands were gently caressing my stomach.  One slid up to
my right breast and cupped me, 
kneading gently through my robe.  I hummed in the back of my throat.  My nipple
was instantly hard.  He pinched the 
pebble-hard nipple gently.  "This kind of excited?" he asked.  His breath was
hot on my neck.
 
"Ahh, Fox, yeess," I hissed.  "When you play with my ears or my neck, it does
wicked things to me.  I'm so sensitive 
there."
 
"I'll keep that in mind.  What kind of wicked things?"  His voice was soft, a
little hoarse.
 
"Ooohhh," was all I could get our for a second as his hands untied my robe and
slid up to cup my bare breasts, both of 
them.  "This...your breath is so hot, ahh god, why does it go straight to my
breasts?"
 
"Straight to your breasts, huh?  Tell me."
 
"Yes, my nipples get so hard.  My breasts feel heavy and then they ache.  In the
office, the second your breath hit my 
neck my body reacted.  I was sure you would feel my nipples through your shirt. 
They were so hard."
 
"I may have registered that briefly, but I'm afraid I was too concerned with
holding you against my chest so you wouldn't 
feel my hard-on"  It was my turn to laugh. 
 
"I did feel it."
 
"Yeah, after you squirmed away and landed on it!"
 
"I didn't mean to!"
 
"I know, but I figured at that point, uh, after you made me swallow a moan,
there was no point in trying to hide it.  I was 
mortified though."
 
"I didn't know what to think.  You let me up and did nothing to acknowledge it. 
You ignored it, so I tried to also."
 
"What could I say?  Gee, Scully, I know you just felt my hard-on poking you in
the ass, now you see it.  See you for dinner 
and by the way, thanks for the hard-on I have to try and get rid of before I
arrive at your place tonight!"
 
I was laughing now, so was he.  It was great to be able to laugh together, poke
fun at ourselves and our embarrassment.  
It hadn't even been 24 hours but it seemed so long ago.  It was now 3:00 PM.
 
"What about Skinner?"
 
"He can wait.  I need a shower, Dana, and I should probably go home and get some
clean clothes."
 
"O.K."  The disappointment at his leaving must have been evident in my voice.
 
"Well, you could come with me."
 
"To the shower or your apartment?"
 
"Oh, ho," he chuckled.  "How about both? I don't intend to leave you alone and
out of my sight until I absolutely have to.  
I'm still not entirely convinced I'm not dreaming."
 
"If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up."
 
"Me neither, I'll kill the bastard that wakes me up."  He released me.  "Last
one in is a rotten egg," he chortled.  With that, 
he took off at a trot for the bathroom.  I followed, loving this playfulness. 
God, I really hadn't know what I was missing.  It 
almost seemed too good to be true.  But I wasn't prepared to look at it too
closely yet, lest it disappear.  I just wanted to 
enjoy it for now.
 
We relaxed under the hot spray of the shower, and both washed our hair.  He
exclaimed over my cinnamon scented 
shampoo as he discovered the source of my scent.  You'd think he'd discovered
Atlantis.  Deciding it wasn't a 'too 
feminine smell', he used it as well.  We soaped each other's back and our hands
teased each other's bodies.  
 
I stroked him firmly with my hand.  I lost it when his hand went between my legs
with a bar of soap.  He dragged it back 
and forth between my legs.  Our humor died as our excitement mounted once again. 
Before I knew it, my arms were 
braced against the glass door and the side of the shower.  My legs were wrapped
around his hips.  His arms were 
wrapped tightly around my waist.  He lifted me up and his mouth latched onto my
nipple, as I sank down onto him.  
 
We both made incoherent sounds as he lifted me up and down upon his shaft.  I
marveled at his strength, holding me up 
while standing.  I angled my body back away from him, and we both watched him
sliding in and out of my body.  He is so 
big.  I threw my head back and groaned through my release.  My clenching muscles
sent him over the edge.  He yelled 
my name as his hips pumped up into me a final time and he clutched me tight
around the waist.  His face was so beautiful 
when he had his orgasm.  His head was thrown back, eyes closed, throat muscles
working around his yell as water 
streamed down his body.  I slid down his body when he finished clutching me and
we rinsed off again before exiting the 
shower.
 
 
How erotic was having sex in the shower?  I'm just coasting along on a euphoria
cloud, waiting for the rain. God, I can't 
get enough of her.  
 
Something about watching that tiny, shapely body perched on top of my erection
nearly sent me around the bend.  Her 
weight, slight as it is, allowed her to sink down - all the way - again.  I
don't know if I stretched her now so she can take 
me easier but I slid all the way in, no problem.  No resistance.  But still, she
is incredibly tight.  Because she is so small 
with slender hips, I look enormous sliding into her.  I'm good size, but I look
huge because she is so small.  I still can't 
wrap my mind around it.  It was such a turn-on to watch her sink onto my
engorged sex.  I am still wondering how I've 
managed to get hard so many times in less than 24 hours.  I've never had this
kind of stamina or recovery either.  But 
mostly, I can't believe she loves me.
 
She loves me!  I'm truly am waiting to wake up.  We drove to my place and I
changed my clothes and we watched a 
movie I had rented, all cuddled up on the couch.  I had planned on watching the
film myself but this was much better.  We 
ordered Chinese take-out and ate it on the couch.  
 
We went to bed early and curled up together.  Dana Scully is in my bed.  Her
skin is so soft.  I knew that from touching her 
cheeks and her neck on occasion.  I always wondered if it was that soft
everywhere.  It is and I can't stop touching her 
and reveling in her softness.  
 
Dana Scully is in my bed!  We are both tired though and agree to just snuggle
up, entangled and try to get some sleep.  It 
feels so right to be spooning her, my body wrapped completely around her.  I
feel a surge of protectiveness for this 
passionate woman in my arms.  I stare at those lips that I've fantasized about
for so many years.  The lips that I longed to 
kiss and suck on, that had driven me insane.  Lips that had unbelievably been
wrapped around my sex.  God, that mouth.  
A mouth that had swallowed the biggest load of cum I'd ever produced.  Dana
Scully is in my bed!I had to think of 
something else before she started thinking that's all I wanted.  I was aroused
again, but ignored it.  She seemed willing 
though so far.  She was starved as I was.  There was so much passion in her.  
 
I'd known it was there, somewhere beneath the veneer of the tough, smart,
doctor/FBI agent trying to prove herself to the 
big boys.  She never had anything to prove to me.  She fascinated me from day
one.  As our friendship and trust grew, I 
saw the passion, carefully hidden behind her science.  I just never dreamed that
passion could be for me.
 
My last thought before drifting off to sleep was, "I can't believe this
enchanting, erotic creature is in love with me."
 
 
 
 
 
PART 5:  (RATED NC-17)
 
I woke up spooned by Fox in his bed.  I could feel his chest warm against my
back.  One arm was snug around my waist.  
The other was under my neck and my head was cradled under his chin.  His leg is
pinning mine to the bed.  I glanced at 
the clock; 6:00 AM, Sunday morning.  My slight motion must have woke him.  His
hand slowly started to caress my 
stomach.  His arm under my neck slid down to cup my right breast.  He gently
pinched my nipple.  I groaned as I felt 
myself gush wet and my lips swell in response to his pinching my nipple.  They
were so sensitive.  Involuntarily my back 
arched into him, my butt rubbing into his hips. I felt his erection rise from
semi-erect to hard and slip up my cleft.  He 
pulled back and I felt the head of his penis lodge between my cheeks and push
gently against my rectum.  Sharp, almost 
painful shocks of arousal ripped from my breasts, down my body and into my
clitoris and made it throb.  I moaned and he 
sucked in his breath.  I bit back another groan.  "Ahh, Fox, you make me so
wet."
 
"How wet?"
 
"Feel."   His hand swiped through my pubic hair and cupped me, his middle finger
slowly slipping inside, deep.  His fingers 
are so long.  
 
"Ahh, jesus, Dana," he groaned when he felt how swollen I was.  I loved that I
could make him moan.  It sends shivers 
down my spine.
 
"Oh, yes, touch me, god Fox."
 
"Tell me," he whispered.
 
"I'm so swollen, I ache."
 
"Where?"  I take his fingers and guide it to my clitoris.  
 
"Here, and inside."  He pushes down hard on my clitoris, pushing from the top
downward and I feel his erection at my 
entrance.  He grasps my hip and slides into me.  He strokes deep, once, twice,
three times.  I moan and feel my juices 
squirt out of me around his hardness.  I feel positively wanton.
 
"Oh Love, I can't get enough of you."  He called me Love.  He pulls out slowly. 
My hips strain forward briefly at the loss.  
His penis slid back from between my legs and I push back into his hips and I
feel it again.  His rock hard erection, pulsing 
against my rectum.  I reach back behind me and grasp him firmly at the base.  He
chokes out a slightly strangled moan.  
Suddenly, I want him in there.  I've always wondered what it would be like, but
never had the courage to try.  Also, I was 
worried that my partner would think I was disgusting or perverted.  Now, the
idea is such a turn on, I can feel my wetness 
leaking out of me and running down my thighs as my nether lips tingle at the
thought of it.  I know he will not be disgusted.  
His penis is slick with my juices and I press him gently but firmly against my
rectum.  He sharply sucks in his breath.
 
"Dana, what?..."  I nudge a little harder, steady.
 
"Ahh, Dana, are you sure?"  I push a little harder.  I feel my sphincter tighten
against the impending intrusion and then 
relax.
 
"Oh Jesus, Dana.  I don't want to hurt you," he croaks.
 
"I want this.  I want to try.  I want to take you in every hole in my body. 
Every way possible."
 
"You know I can't tell you No."
 
"Let me control the entry," I gasp out.
 
"Oh, O.O.Ka,K.," he stutters.  He uses his other hand to scoop up my wetness and
lubricate me.  He slowly slides a finger 
inside my tight hole and works it around until I relax, then two fingers.  He
slides his hardness into my slick vagina, once, 
twice and emerges coated in my juices.  Then he laces his fingers through my
hand that is under my body.  I grasp him 
firmly again in my hand that is swung back behind my back.  I take a deep
breath, and ... exhale slowly as I back myself 
into him and feel his silky, wet head pop inside the ringed muscle.  There is a
sharp, quick, pain, then rivers of warm 
tremors as the muscles relax by degrees as I continue to push back onto him by
millimeters, so slow.  The feeling is 
indescribable, incredibly delicious.  He is so big, so wide and sooo hard.
 
He moans, loud, low and grasps my hip.  I can tell he is exercising extreme
control to hold still and not push.  His 
breathing is really heavy, really ragged.  I realize mine is matching his,
breath for excited, ragged breath.  "Daannaa, ohh 
god, I don't want to hurt you."  I push steadily.  "But, ahh, god, ... so good,
... so tight...ahh, FUCK!  Dana, sorry, sorry, 
that word -"
 
"It's ... O...K., say it.  You can talk dirty.  Say whatever is in our head,
whatever you want."
 
"Ahh, Fuck, Dana, you're soooo tight, so tight, jeeezzus.  Please be careful. 
Don't go too far."  He could barely fit into my 
vagina, I know I can't take him all here.  That's O.K.  He's about half way in. 
My body is trembling from the indescribable 
sensations coursing through my body.  I am sweating.  I squeeze his shaft hard. 
I have a moment of panic but then my 
squeeze causes his hips to buck, quick, jerk-like and he slides in almost
another inch.  My whole body shudders and I 
melt into a puddle of tremors and loose muscles.  I squeak in surprise.
 
"God, Dana, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."  He starts to pull back and I slap my hand
back against his hip.  He freezes.  "Sorry, 
baby, god, I'm so sorry."  'Did he just call me baby?'
 
"Shhh, I'm fine."
 
"Are you sure?"
 
"Yes, but you're in far enough.  Move now, slowly."
 
"You sure...Yeah?"  His voice holds wonder and fright.
 
"Please."
 
"All right, you tell me if it hurts."
 
"I will, go slow at first."
 
"K."  He backs out about an inch and slowly slides back in.  He is gripping my
hip tightly.  He backs out about two inches 
and slides back in.  A long, low moan starts way in the back of my throat as he
continues pulling out a little further each 
time and sliding back in.  The sensations are beyond anything I've ever known. 
Wave after wave of tiny, continuous 
muscle ripples go through my body.  Each time he slides in, I feel him jar the
back side of my clitoris.  Nothing has ever 
given me the continuous shudders like this.  I start to help by grasping my ass
cheeks and pulling them apart as far as 
they will go.  Then I push back into him to meet his careful thrusts, my hips
moving almost involuntarily.  There isn't even 
a hint of pain as my body continues to stretch to accept him, just an incredible
tightness and the warmth of the muscles 
stretching.
 
He stops and quickly hoists me up onto all fours, staying inside me.  He pants,
"It will be easier this way, I think."  I move 
up a little and grip the bar of my head board for leverage as he slides a pillow
under my stomach.  He starts moving again.
 
"Faster," I pant.  I am groaning continuously and trembling.  He is gasping and
moaning alternately.  He picks up the pace 
just a little.  The sounds he is making fill me with euphoria.  He goes a little
faster.  His hands slide up and down my back 
and over my ass so gently.  He's so afraid of hurting me.  I have a brief
thought that I might look like I'm having 
convulsions.  My muscles are quivering as they relax.  I'm rapidly going out of
control.  I'm tired of control.  I want to be 
dominated.  To hell with gentle this time.  I want it rough.  I want to be
FUCKED!
 
Almost from outside, I hear myself.  I don't' even recognize my own voice, so
hoarse and deep and wild.  "Yes, yes, go, 
just fuck me, keep going, .. oh god, Fox, .. so good, . harder, .. faster, .. oh
yes...TAKE ME. Take control.  Do it now! "  
He does.  He just continuously goes a little faster and a little harder, a
little deeper with each stroke.    He is now pulling 
out until just his head is inside and then plowing back in.  A little more than
half of him is inside me now.   I hear myself 
shouting, "Slam into me, ...hard as you can!  Oh yeah.  Stuff me full!  Fuck me
haaaaarrrrd, Fox !  Fuck my ass.  I want it 
rough.  Ram it in.  Ah, god, your cock is so huge, so good.  Oh yeah, fuck it
hard."  
 
I hear a little strangled scream from him in response to my words...and he goes
a little faster, a little harder, a little 
deeper.  Each stroke, a little faster, a little harder, a little deeper.  A
minute goes by where all I hear is our ragged 
breathing as he continues carrying out my wishes, and sinking into my body,
totally dominating me.
 
I am almost in shock from the sensations.  Suddenly I register that both of his
hands are gripping my hips tightly, and his 
beautiful, lean hips are smacking into my ass.  I feel his balls hitting my wet
lips and my clitoris.  My mind goes off the 
beam as I realize oh my god, he is all the way in.  All of that beautiful,
impossibly long, incredibly hard, thick, heavy 
cock is stuffed into me, slamming into my ass to the hilt like a battering ram,
fucking me so hard.   And nothing 
has ever, ever felt this good!  "Yeesss...keep...fucking me...just like
that...with all of you...so deep...so hard...don't 
stop... Foooxx, yeah, be rough."  I scream.  I sound demented.  I'm having one
slow, rippling orgasm that just keep 
fluttering through my body with every stroke.
 
And he is too.  He is slamming into me now, hard, fast, deep strokes.  My
hearing comes back suddenly and I can hear 
him.  "Dana, can't much .. longer.  Ahh, god, ... can't believe... this is
happening,... Dana, baby,  ... you, god, ... love you, 
... can't believe ... I'm fucking ... your ass, ... you're too ... tiny for
this...baby...was sure you were ... too tiny...can't 
believe you ...  are taking ... all .. of ..  me, ... never felt anything ...
this tight ...  Jesus, Dana, ... never been this ..  
haaarrrd, ... ssooooo fucking ... hard... it hurts, ahhhh chrisssst, ...ahhaaa,
FUCK, DANA,, FUCK, DAAANNNAAA."
 
He is pulling out until just his head is inside and ramming that enormous cock
of his back into me in long, hard, fast,