From: Finding Fiji Date: Sun, 28 Jul 2002 00:30:39 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Curiosity (1/1) NC-17 Source: direct TITLE: Curiosity AUTHOR: Finding Fiji EMAIL: findingfiji@yahoo.com FEEDBACK: Please? Pretty Please? RATING: NC-17 CLASS: VR MSR SPOILERS: Nope DISCLAIMER: Alas, they are not mine, nor do I make any much needed $$ from writing about them! SUMMARY: "Mulder, why are men so attracted to pornography?" He smirked before he realized that I was asking in earnest. "That's a loaded question, Scully." "I know." I replied. NOTES: Not only does is this story NC-17, but it also contains the image of pornography as a healthy and fun sexual tool. Please don't read this if you feel that subject may offend. Special thanks to Theresa and Angelique who betad for me on this one!! I appreciate your help!! Big kisses from Mulder (or Scully, if you prefer) to everyone who sent me feedback on my first two stories! THANKS!! Demian Welts crumpled over the table and wept. No one would blame him, the past few weeks had been an impossibly heavy weight on the shoulders of this thirteen year old boy. Now that life was set aright again, walls of strength were rapidly crumbling down. "God, the therapy this kid is gonna have to go through." Mulder grimaced under his breath. It was with that thought, that he strode purposefully out of the room we had been sharing, and moments later appeared on the other side of the two-way mirror. "Hey, Demian." The child didn't even look up, just continued to cry helplessly into the crook of his arm. Mulder grabbed a chair and swung it around next to him, settling his lanky frame backwards into the chair. He produced a handkerchief from somewhere inside his coat pocked and laid it next to the smaller hand on the table. "Your mom is so happy to be going back home with you, Demian. She missed you so much." After a series of sniffles and sobs, two watery eyes peeked out from behind a blue and white polo shirt. "I thought she left because of me." His confession was barely understandable, hidden in his choking tears and ragged breath. It took me a moment to piece the words together, but Mulder comprehended it instantly. "You're a great guy! Why would she want to leave a wonderful son like you?" Somewhere in the back of my mind the significance of him using the term "guy" as opposed to "child" or "boy" registered', but I was to focused on the scene unfolding before me to recognize just how important that technique actually was. "I...I..." Mulder waited in silent encouragement as the teenager inwardly debated whether or not it was wise to bare his soul to this man. "She caught me with a..." I bit my tongue in frustration when he held back the last word. It shouldn't have surprised me, though, that Mulder was able to guess what it was. "With a girlie magazine?" He finished the sentence for him. A hesitant nod was given, before more shoulder-shaking sobs. Even with this little information, I understood what the boy was going through. When Mulder had been in one of his more psycho-analytical moods he had discussed with me how human beings search to blame, not only themselves, but inanimate objects when tragedy occurs. Demian Welts was blaming his mother's disappearance on his boyhood fantasizing, much the same way a young Fox had felt the game of Stratego was influential in his sister's disappearance. I'm sure Mulder knew, even more than I, just how devastating this belief could be on the maturing sexuality of an adolescent. My partner waited until the crying was a little less vocal before he talked. "When I was twelve, my best friend Bill Clauson had come over my house with his older brother's Playboy. Together, we poured over every page. I remember there was this one girl, with huge breasts." That remark not only halted Demian's tears, but produced two wide eyes gazing directly at the older man. "I mean they were huge! Like watermelons!" Mulder held his hands out in front of his shirt to demonstrate. The boy giggled a bit and Mulder had his rapt attention. "I couldn't stop looking at them. I mean, how could she even walk with these things? Bill and I hid the magazine in my top dresser drawer, underneath my underwear. Every night I would look at it and wonder what they felt like, how heavy they would be to lift, how they would taste. I named her Melanie, after all, I was just staring at her 'melons'!" Demian laughed out loud now and gazed at my partner with awe and amazement. Without having had a father, it was obvious that this boy was craving some masculine attention. "Well, one night, my mother came into my room and found me looking at Melanie. Man, I thought she was gonna kill me!" Mulder's voice had taken on a child like quality, relating to Demian as if he himself were just a teenager. "Melanie was tossed into the garbage can before I could save her or her breasts. My mother swore if she ever caught me looking at one of those magazines again she would ground me for life." Demian nodded knowingly, almost sympathetically. "My mom said the same thing. She said she was really angry and she wasn't sure if she could forgive me for being so bad." He sniffed noisily at the memory. Mulder continued, in a more mature tone than he had been using before. "I didn't see another naked picture for three years. Then, one Summer afternoon, I was at a party with some other guys and they pulled out some magazines. And you know what happened?" He waited for Demian's incredulous shake of his head no before he continued. "After the oohing and aahing tied down, we all started talking about how awful it had been when our mom's had found our 'stash' or caught us 'in the act'. Everyone was trading secrets about where to hide them and how to be careful." "You mean, you hid another one?" Mulder gave him a toothy grin and a nod. "Yup. My mom never found that one. I still have it ya'know..." "Aren't you afraid your mom's gonna find it?" I couldn't help but laugh at that, but Mulder's face remained smooth as stone. He really would make a phenomenal therapist. "Nah. I don't really think she'd be upset about it. You see, now that I'm a man in a man's body, it's easy for her to accept that I have the curiosity and desires of a man. Women's bodies are supposed to attract us, it's normal. It's just harder for mom's to accept it when we're in that in-between stage of not really looking like a man, yet not a child either. It's hard for them to let go." "So, do you think it would be ok if I got another magazine?" Mulder smiled conspiratorially. "You should probably find a better hiding spot." "And not my underwear drawer?" Demian and Mulder both laughed at his joke, and Demian finally grabbed Mulder's hanky to clean his tear-stained face. Mulder rose to leave and I met him in the hallway outside of the two rooms. We silently walked out of the police station and towards our waiting Taurus. As he held the car door open for me, I broke the silence. "Melanie, huh?" He grinned broadly, and leaned his elbows on the open car door, before whispering, "They were huge, Scully." He made his way around the car and into the drivers seat and we drove towards his apartment wordlessly, lost in our own thoughts. ------ We arrived at Hegal Place quicker than I had expected or hoped. I think I actually gasped in surprise when I felt Mulder shift the car into park. So lost in my own thoughts, I had failed to notice the familiar scenery. My mind, however, had not been deconstructing the case as it usually is on the drive home. It was not putting together loose ends and wrapping them into what will later be my report on Skinner's desk. No, this drive home had existed within the realms of the interrogation room where I had last seen Demian Welts. I played my partner's words over and over again, trying to find the answer to an enigma I have pondered since adolescence. The attraction men have to pornography has always baffled me. The few times I have seen a Playboy centerfold or mistakenly flipped on the wrong television channel at 3AM I have been repulsed, not aroused. I don't see beautiful women anxious to trade pleasures with their lovers. No, I see some sad girl, who is hopefully not underage, so lost that she probably thinks that this is the only way she can make a living. I see hopelessness and loneliness and fear...not a sex kitten. "Scully?" Mulder's soft voice and his fingertips gently touching my forearm broke me from my reverie. Before better judgement could grab hold of me, I made an attempt to search out an answer to my puzzle. "Mulder, why are men so attracted to pornography?" He smirked before he realized that I was asking in earnest. "That's a loaded question, Scully." "I know." I replied. And I did know. But for some reason, my curiosity around this had become a burning ache. I felt like I needed to know. Mulder blew a puff of air through pursed lips as he considered his answer. His eyes were far away, staring straight in front of him. I recognized this face. It was one he often wears before we delve into a conversation head first or before we back away and pretend nothing ever happened. He was weighing his options; it is his "consideration face". "Do you want to come upstairs?" The decision was made. I nodded my acceptance to his invitation and we both gathered our belongings from the car in silence. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if he was considering which answer to give me. As soon as the door to his apartment was open we followed a familiar pattern. I relieved myself in the bathroom as he checked his messages and quickly sorted through his mail. Then, he got the bathroom as I prepared the kettle to make some tea. "What kind of tea would you like?" I asked as I opened the cabinet door to view several different Celestial Seasoning options. "I was gonna have a beer." I should have been surprised. Mulder almost never drinks, and when he does it's usually due to enormous stress. I could count the times on one hand I've seen him kick back with alcohol just to relax. Removing the kettle from the range, I turned to face him where he was sorting around in his refrigerator. "I'll have one, too." He raised his eyebrows but said nothing as he swung the fridge door shut with his foot, two bottles in his hand. He popped both of them open and, handing one to me, gestured for me to head into the living room. Once we were both settled on the familiar leather sofa, we resumed the conversation started in the car. "So are you asking why do *I* enjoy porn or are you referring to men in general?" Both of our eyes were fixated on some random point across the room. It's not uncommon for us to have conversations this way. I think, perhaps, it's because we speak so much with our eyes that to look at each other and speak openly would be like sensory overload. I couldn't deny being interested in why he personally is attracted to it, but it somehow seemed too blunt to answer that way. So, I replied with another query. Questions within questions is also not uncommon for us. "Which question can you answer?" "Both, I suppose. As a psychologist, I can clinically explain to you why the male gender is attracted to the visual and auditory stimulus pornography offers. As a man, I can explain the needs of a 21st century male human and the different needs and desires that are created. Or, as Mulder, I can tell you why it gets me off." He smirked there, but I recognized how awkward he must feel. I certainly would have felt embarrassed telling Mulder about my mastubatory habits. "It's your choice, Scully. If you want I can try to combine all three, but I have to warn you, I despise looking at myself through a psychoanalyst's eye. It's just a little too...spooky." I considered my options carefully before responding. "Well, I don't really think I need a medical opinion. Even though I respect the fact that you attended more psych classes than I had too, I think the basics we learned about human sexuality are still the same. So, I guess I'm looking for the point of view of a man, and the man that I am asking is you." I was pleased with my response. In truth, I didn't want a professional opinion, nor did I want any broad generalities. I also didn't want to come out and ask him specifically why he does it. For some ironic reason, I felt like asking that would bare more of myself than I cared to. Mulder sipped his beer thoughtfully as he compiled his thoughts. I could only see him out of the corner of my eye, but his posture was surprisingly relaxed. I think I must have looked like a stiff pole seated uncomfortably on a piece of glass. "Well, you heard about my first experiences with nudie pictures when I was talking with the Welts kid today. Back when I was still a beginner." He chuckled at himself harmlessly. "I didn't really get into it at the same age everybody else did, though. I mean, as a kid, sure it was fun. In some ways though, it was more of a social thing than a release. Like I said, you chatted about it at parties and campouts while you drank warm beer and felt rebelliously mature." "College is when most guys really went gung ho over it. There were gatherings where they would watch videos all night long, laughing and ribbing each other, talking about the 'chicks they had done that with'. It was still a social thing, but it was more understood." Mulder sighed, and struggled to find the words he was looking for. "What I'm trying to say is that as a boy, it was social and pseudo-educational. As a college kid, it was social and hot. Male bonding and maturation as primitive as grunting and scratching." "I, however, did not attend most of these gatherings. By that time I had discovered the real thing, and I had no desire to go back to a fuzzy video and box of tissues. Women in the flesh were much more appealing to me. Now, don't get me wrong, a woman in their beds would have been preferential to almost any college boy...but you take what you can get, and there were a lot more men at Oxford than girls." "So, fast-forward a few years and I began my work at the Bureau. I became consumed with my work; first in Quantico, than VCS, and finally the X-Files. I didn't have time to devote the attention to a relationship that they need, and the few that I tried failed miserably. So, my first plan was to ignore that side of myself. Ya'know, do the dirty deed when absolutely necessary, but besides that just forget about sex.--Do you want another beer?" His question surprised me and my back straightened up instantly. The more he had spoken, the more relaxed I was getting. It had almost been listening to a book on tape, not like he was actually there. "Yes." I tried to sound like myself, but I failed miserably. He was back from the kitchen with two beers before I even began to compose myself. It's funny how he was the one baring himself to me, and I was the nervous wreck! Once we were back in our positions, both of us staring forward with our feet on the coffee table, he continued. "So, I tried to deny myself, but the truth is, I am a man. I began to leer at the secretaries and flirt with anything in a skirt. I wasn't doing it to win them, though. It was just like I needed to, to assert my masculinity. But treating female counterparts as equals had always been important to me, and I didn't want to compromise that just because I wasn't getting any. So, on a whim, I bought a video." When I gathered he was done with his spiel, I decided to bring up a rather large flaw in his theory. "You're still a flirt, Mulder." He turned to face me and grinned. "If you think I'm bad now, you should have seen me before." There was something about the way he said that that made me chuckle and I felt ten times more relaxed than I had since we pulled up to the apartment. "I still don't understand, though. I get why you watch, but I don't get *why* you watch." I could have kissed him for understanding my poorly worded query. "OK, imagine this, Scully. When I'm at work, I am (as much as I can be) the consummate professional. Women are equals and no frustrations, sexual or otherwise, are taken out on them. But those frustrations do exist. When I worked in VCS, I had some of the most intense days I've ever had in my life. Innocent people kidnapped, raped, and abused and it was up to me to find them before they were murdered, or before the perp took more. On top of that, there was a secretary there, Joelle Knight, you've probably heard of her." I grunted in affirmation. Even though I knew she had long since left the bureau I felt my dander rise just hearing her name. "Well, Joelle was an awful flirt, as I'm sure you've heard. She used to prop herself up on my desk so I could see the top of her thigh-high stocking, call me Foxy, and steal my sunflower seeds. As much as I despised the woman, she exuded a sexuality I couldn't ignore, and she knew it." He paused to catch his breath and I tried to reign in my anger. I knew I had no right to feel possessive over my partner, but I did, dammit. And the idea of some slut crawling all over his desk made me furious, and just a little jealous. Well, maybe more than a little. "All that stress would grate on me during the day. But then I could go home and flip on a video and there would be some girl getting her brains fucked out." He glanced over at me apologetically. "Sorry, Scully, but that's what it would be sometimes. Back then I liked more aggressive videos, it helped me get out my anger towards everyone." "What kinds of videos do you like now?" The question was out before I could stop it. I wanted to look away, but I was frozen in place. Mulder's straight face slowly broke into a wide grin and he looked at me knowingly. It was a terrifying moment that he silently acknowledged my interest in him, as opposed to just my curiosity on the subject. "All different kinds, really. Although I still use them to de-stress like I used to, it's different. Now they're fodder for fantasies, ideas, and mental images to play with. My older ones can be almost comforting, I watch them sometimes to help me fall asleep. While new videos can be almost unbearably arousing, like getting a new imaginary lover." His words were open, honest, and terribly exciting. Mulder and I had never spoken on this level before. "So you don't always masturbate to them?" My voice was steadier than I expected and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. "No, not at all. Like I said they fill varied purposes." "Don't you think they're degrading to women?" "If I did, I wouldn't watch them." "How can you say they aren't? For the most part, they are created for the express purpose of providing sexual releases towards men. How is that being respectful towards women?" "Have you ever masturbated and imagined George Clooney as your lover?" "What?!" My face was burning red and only half was in anger. "Oh, come on, Scully, you have every movie the man ever made. I refuse to believe that you haven't fantasized about him." "So what if I have? George Clooney happens to be one of the best actors of the 20th century!" "I highly doubt it's his 'acting' you were imagining." Mulder got up and grabbed the four empty bottles off the coffee table. My mouth was agape as I stared after him. "Don't dish it out if you can't take it, Scully!" He called from the kitchen. "'Nother beer?" He had to stick his head around the corner to see me shake my head no. My voice was lost somewhere in the pit of my stomach. It was awfully embarrassing to think that Mulder knew this secret of mine. What was worse though, was to imagine what else he'd deduced over our seven year partnership. I certainly hoped he hadn't guessed who the subject of my daydreams had been over the past several years. What would he think if he knew he was the star? "Sorry, Scully, I didn't mean to embarrass you." I glanced up at him briefly as he set down two iced teas for us. "No, it's alright, Mulder you had a good point." "I know." His grin was catching and I smiled back at him. "I still don't get it." My voice had regained it's full strength after a sip of tea. "Get what?" Mulder stretched both his arms out on the back of the couch and looked at me curiously. "What men find so sexy in pornos." Mulder was quiet for several moments and I watched the wheels turn in his head. Then, in one terrible moment, I saw the expression of realization dawn on his face. His features lit up for a second, his eyes dilated, and in one swift movement he rose off the couch and took a few strides forward to his fish tank. He was rummaging around in a box before I called out his name. "Mulder?" "Hmm?" "What are you doing?" I was wary. I have learned that sometimes, when it comes to my partner, I'd rather not know. "I figured it out." "Figured what out?" Now, I'm confused. "Why you're asking me about all of this." "Why is that?" Only half of me wanted to hear his answer. In truth, I was not entirely sure why this conversation occurred. Maybe he could shine some light on my curiosity. "You're not asking why it turn's men on. You're asking why it doesn't turn you on." For the second time that night, I exclaimed "What?!" Mulder had found what he was looking for and popped up to stand in front of me. In front of him he held a dvd with a scantily clad woman on the cover, the shrink wrapping still covering the casing. His intention dawned on me and I began to rise from my seat, but stopped when he held out his hand. I waited impatiently for his explanation. "It's just a video, Scully. You can turn it off if you get uncomfortable..." "I already am uncomfortable, Mulder." I protested. He held up his hand again. "Look," he pointed to the shrink wrapping he was removing, "I've never seen this movie before. We're on equal footing here. If nothing else, I can tell you what my immediate and virgin reactions are, and maybe that will answer the question you asked. And maybe it will answer the question you didn't ask." "Mulder." I hated the way I said his name. It was my acquiescence, although I didn't mean for it to be. He recognized it immediately, and began sliding the dvd into the player. Silently he made his way around the room, turning off all the lights. I wanted to protest, but once again, my voice was lost. It was probably better that way, anyway. This way I wouldn't be able to see him watching it. He settled himself on my left on the couch, closer than he was last time. His right arm rested lazily on the back of the couch and his fingertips hung down to brush against my shoulder. I tried not to shiver in response. "Ready?" His whisper was surprisingly close to my left ear and he chuckled softly in response to my slight jump. I watched deftly as his thumb pressed the 'play' button on the remote, and he set it down on the coffee table away from my reach. The first scene had begun and I was trying desperately hard to pay attention to the two actresses and one actor that were speaking to one another. The dialogue was terrible and the acting worse. I wanted to groan at the foolishness of it all. I thankfully, thought better than to groan though. I'm sure Mulder would have some sly comment on how well I was getting in to all this, even if I was a bit premature in my excitement. I watched as the scene unfolded and the two actresses began to kiss and touch each other as the man sat back and watched. My uncomfortability was rising exponentially as more and more clothes were discarded. I felt like I needed to say something, anything to bring reality back into the living room. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Do you find that sexy?" "Do I find what sexy?" He was right next to my ear again, and I couldn't suppress the shiver. "When two women..." I trailed off. There was no tactful way to say what they were doing, and somehow using clinical terms just didn't feel right. "Yes." I shouldn't have been surprised by his answer, but I was. I think I was more surprised he didn't avert it than the honesty behind it. "That's another thing I've never understood. Why do all men seem to find two girls making out so enticing?" I was trying to keep my tone conversational, but I wasn't sure it was working. "Double the pleasure?" Mulder joked. He moved further away from my ear and I was grateful for the added space. "Have you ever?" I asked another question, trying not to concentrate on the four naked breasts on the television. "Have I ever what?" Mulder asked. I wondered if he really didn't know what I have been asking about, or if he is just trying to get me to say it. "Have you ever... ...with two girls?" He took a deep breath in, before answering. "Yes." My next question surprised me. "Was it good?" I could hear his smile. "Yes." A pool of warmth flooded between my legs at his admission. I thought I should leave then, but I was glued to my seat. "Have you?" "No." "Have you ever imagined it?" I knew I should leave then, but that glue was still there, holding me in my spot. I wanted to deny ever having done it. I had only thought about it once or twice. How could you not in today's society, with that image everywhere. I wanted to lie, but I didn't. "Yes." I prayed that he didn't ask me if I liked it, and thankfully he didn't. Mulder is familiar with my tightly constricted boundaries, and he knew he was breaking many of those down. Best not to push it too far. "Do you want me to tell you what I'm thinking? My reactions? Would that help you understand this aspect of the male psyche?" Thank you, again, Mulder, for knowing what I needed! Bring it back around to science. Let me study you, and then maybe we could ignore the potency of this situation. "Sure." My reply was lame, but it's the best I could do. Mulder cleared his throat and he started talking again. He moved back to a whisper, but he kept his distance. "I imagine myself being that guy, stroking myself lazily as these two girls make out in front of me. Usually I create an entire scene in my head. Maybe I ordered them both to play with each other, maybe they're both my lovers and are giving me this as a gift, or maybe they don't give a damn about me and I'm just sitting around watching. Do you have a preference to a scenario?" I shook my head in the negative. It almost felt like Mulder was playing with me, but I knew that couldn't be. He was just trying to answer my question. If he wanted me he would be touching me, or doing something other than just talking. No, that huskiness in his voice was just an effect from the two blondes on the TV. "OK, so say they're both my lovers. Now I know how both their bodies feel, all of their sensitive spots, and I'm sitting back and watching as they discover each others. I'm jealous, too. I can feel it coursing through my veins, and even though I know it should make me angry, it only turns me on more. It feels wild." We both gasped as the two actresses suddenly turned on the man and began performing oral sex on him together. I could feel Mulder tense up behind me and then consciously relax. I wondered how much this was arousing him. "Do you want me to keep going? It's gonna have to get more graphic..." I appreciated his cautiousness but I nodded anyway. If I was honest, I'd admit that it was less curiosity and more desire that made me want to hear him continue. I felt incredibly naughty, but in a better way than I ever remembered feeling. I'd take the time to judge myself later, but at that moment Mulder's words were more intoxicating. "I imagine the sensation of a tongue on my shaft and one on my balls. I imagine the clumsiness that would go along with it, the occasional knocking of heads or stepping on feet. I'd stroke both girls hair and feel like a god. I think I'd look down on them with superiority, watching them go crazy for me, licking and sucking like it's all they ever want to do." One of the girl's moved down to give the actor a rim job. "Oh, hell, that's just fucking amazing." Mulder groaned and shifted positions anxiously. It was amazing, and a lot less awkward than I would have guessed, to feel his excitement level escalate from only a few inches away. I self-consciously glanced down at Mulder's left hand which was draped casually off the end of his knee and watched him flex his fingers several times. Suddenly, I realized just how considerate Mulder was being. His right hand sat behind me, fingertips on my shoulder. His left hand was within my line of vision. There was not a shadow of doubt in my mind that Mulder positioned himself this way to show me that he wasn't, at any point, touching himself. No matter how aroused he got, this was my question getting answered, not him getting off. He was being utterly respectful. The scene changed and a different man and woman were on the screen. The woman sat casually at the end of a four poster bed. "Your turn, Scully?" "What?" I didn't understand what he was asking. "Why don't you tell me what you think?" "That won't help answer my question, Mulder." "I think it will." He leaned back a bit, away from me, challenging me, and I knew he was right. I just didn't know how to start. "I see a woman with fake breasts." It was true, that's what I saw. Mulder chuckled lightly. "Try again." The man on the screen was busy tying the woman to the bedposts. She was not, however, laying down as one might expect. He had turned her around, and she was standing at the foot of the bed, with her arms spread out and tied to the bottom posts. "I see an archetype that is currently encouraging many adolescent boys that women are the inferior gender and they can wield control with sheer force and brute strength." I was serious, but Mulder chuckled again and then rested his right hand fully on my shoulder. "Scully, I refuse to believe that you have never fantasized about being tied up. Knowing you, with all of your control, I wouldn't be surprised if it was your favorite image to masturbate too. But if you feel the need to deny that tonight, that's fine. Because right now, regardless of whether or not you've done it before, you are going to imagine what it would be like to be that girl." Mulder was quiet for a moment, giving me a chance to refuse. His voice had been gentle but somewhat demanding. He was pushing me to discover myself, just like he pushed me towards extreme possibilities. When I didn't complain, refuse, or just leave he continued. "See how her wrists are bound with silk scarves? Do you think they're very tight around her wrists or lose?" "How am I supposed to know?" I eyed them carefully, thinking that he meant for me to examine the actual prop. "If it was you, how tight would they be?" A blush crept up my neck that was only half embarrassment from my misunderstanding. This was dangerous territory he was dancing around, yet a quick glance at him belied that he appeared completely relaxed. I was so jealous at his cavalier attitude towards sexual relations I almost shot him again. Part of me really didn't want to play the game. I was too afraid of what could be lost in it, but before I knew it, I was answering. "They're secure." I felt him nod his understanding behind me. "OK. Not too tight, but she's definitely not going anywhere, right? How about that blindfold he just put on. Do you think she can see through it?" "No." "Wow. So, she's really helpless, isn't she? See the way he pulled her hips out and spread her legs? In that position all of her weight is balanced on her lower body, so she can't try to kick him or wiggle away. That makes her totally at her mercy, doesn't it?" "Yes, I guess so." My voice was shaky and weak and I was unbearably embarrassed. Mulder had been able to conceal his excitement almost through the entire video and here I was needy and wanting before anything really even happened. It wouldn't be until much later that I realize that I was getting this aroused over the very thing I claimed to hate. "Look at the way he's rubbing her gently all over. Do you think he's doing that because he cares for her, or is he trying to lull her into a false sense of security?" "He cares for her. They're just playing a game." I actually sighed to myself as I watched the mans hands roam all over the woman's naked body. It's been so long since someone touched me that way, so tenderly and sensually. Then, without warning the man's hand came back and slapped the woman right on the rump. Unprepared for that, I jumped up and backwards at the resonating smacking sound. Mulder chuckled lightly and adjusted himself a bit but didn't move me away. I was now nestled right in my partner's lap, between his two open legs. When I made no move to scoot further away, he fidgeted again, and pulled me closer to lean up against his chest. I didn't have time to acclimate to the new position before Mulder was asking me questions again. "Why did he spank her?" "I don't know." I really didn't. I couldn't think of what to say. "Try again, Scully." Those must be his new favorite words. "Because she likes it?" I didn't realize the multitude of things that admitted to before it left my mouth. My face turned bright red afterwards. "Did you like it, Scully?" As he asked the question he began making lazy circles around my belly button with his index finger. If my senses weren't so heightened already, I might not even have noticed it they were so feather light. "Did I like what?" "Did you like him spanking her?" Oh. OH! "Yes." Once again, it was out of my mouth before I could stop it. "Watch the movie." I hadn't even realized that my eyes had drifted away, but they had. I guess I was self conscious after all these admissions. "What do you see?" "I see him fingering her." In my haze of arousal I didn't realize that I had crossed the line from seeing this as degrading to seeing it as a fantasy. Mulder did though, and smiled against my hair. "Look at the way he's getting ready to lick her. See how he's holding her hips, so tight? Do you think that hurts?" "No, I bet it feels exquisite." His thumbs were rubbing insistently against my sides and I wanted to squirm in pleasure. "He's using such long, slow strokes with his tongue. Does she want him to do more?" "I don't think she cares, she's so lost in sensation." Mulder's fingers were inching inside my shirt, finding invisible patterns in my ribs. "She's fighting against her bonding pretty hard. What do you think she wants?" Warm digits were caressing the underside of my breasts, and I found that I was the one getting lost in sensation. It was surreal, and for once my mind shut off and let me enjoy it. "She wants to be fucked." Mulder gasped inward and I wondered if he was surprised by my language. Generally I never use profanity, but maybe I should remind him that I am a sailor's daughter! Then, without further preamble, the man on the screen positions himself outside the woman's entrance and it is my turn to gasp. "Do you want to be taken?" I didn't realize the change in pronouns; I don't know if Mulder did either. "Watch him pound into her, Scully." I didn't need to be told twice. The screen had my rapt attention, as male fingers teased my breasts, coming agonizingly close to my nipples, but never touching. The drama on the scene was building higher and higher and I was holding my breath in anticipation for their release. "Do you want him to bring her over the edge?" "Yes! I want you to take me there!" Then, four things happened at once. The characters on the screen had an earth-shattering orgasm, my partner squeezed my anxious nipples, my own climax took me, and I realized exactly what I had just confessed and done. Post-orgasmic lethargy did not have any time to settle in, because I was immediately stiff and rigid and trying to imagine a way to talk myself out of this situation. There must be something I could do or say to set it all aright again. Mulder would understand. I had just gotten carried away with sensation, still tired from the case, my mind wasn't quite back to normal yet. He would allow me to bury myself back into the sand, and life in denial as we knew it, would continue. I was still formulating my words when Mulder reached over and grasped the remote from the coffee table. With one click we were sent into darkness, and I knew he wasn't going to let this pass. Neither of us spoke for long, agonizing minutes. Mulder's thumbs continue to steadily stroke my sides, and the only sounds were the rustle of fabric his gestures created and both of our labored breathing. Mulder was the first to break the silence. "I already confessed that pornography is a wonderful release for me. It allows me to imagine being and doing things that are restricted in my normal life." He cleared his throat before continuing. "My favorite video is one that fittingly, is centered around a law enforcement agency. They have lots of kinky scenes with handcuffs and jail cells, but my favorite takes place in an office. There's two cops, presumably partners, and they get it on top of the desk. It's not rough like you'd imagine, but instead, extremely passionate. I like to imagine that they've worked together for a long time, and they finally reached the point where they couldn't deny themselves any longer. They're frantic coupling is a result of years...seven years...of pent up desires and longings." He takes a deep shuddery breath, and waits for my reaction. My instinct is to analyze this evening. I want to take each moment and study it under a microscope. Find all the hidden meanings and admissions and chose to either accept them or sweep them under a rug and into my closet. My intellect is torn, but my body is not and it answers for me. "Tell me about the scene." Mulder grunts at my request and shifts slightly so I can feel his erection poking firmly into the small of my back. For a brief moment I imagine the head pressed inside the ring of the oroborous tattoo, and I fight the urge to giggle. "They're both exhausted when they enter the office. His tie is slightly askew and her face looks drawn. They must have just gotten back from a tough assignment. He rounds his way to sit behind his desk, plopping down and eyeing the paperwork wearily. The worst thing about times like these is the yearning he feels to find comfort and offer comfort in his partner's embrace. It's forbidden, though, taboo and unacceptable, so he pulls out a pen and takes the top paper off the pile." "In the scene she comes up behind him and begins sensually rubbing his shoulders and down his chest. I imagine he is shocked, stunned into silence, too afraid to question her actions. So he remains perfectly still as her fingernails trace lazy patterns over his chest. His erection is obvious, and he thinks he should hide it so she won't feel uncomfortable, but he's still too terrified to move. He knows it's obvious to her, but is suddenly tired of fighting the feelings, tired of hiding." "Have you ever felt like that, Scully?" His question pulled me out of the lazy haze I had drifted into. Mulder's voice could be so soothing to me, that sometimes I just got lost in it. "Yes." I admitted. "So have I." He paused and then added. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just gonna loose it if I can't touch you right that second. If I can't feel you in my arms, kiss you, touch you." And there it was. The admission we had both been waiting for was there. I understood at then, without a doubt, we would make love that night. Yet, instead of the urgency I expected to feel when faced with this heady prospect, I was content to draw it out as long as possible. Let the anticipation linger for awhile longer. "So what does he do?" "Huh?" I couldn't really blame him for being confused. I was a bit surprised myself that I wanted to go back to the storytelling. "The guy in the office, what does he do?" "Oh." Realization dawned on him in a slow wave. Although I couldn't see him with my back pressed against his chest the way it was, I could feel the change occur within him. His hands moved from my waist and landed on my shoulders, fingers tenderly tracing my collarbone. "He doesn't do anything. She reaches around and undoes his tie, slowly pulling it out from around his neck. She doesn't throw it aside right away though. Instead, she teases him with it, running the small end in flirtatious circles around his face until his head falls back onto the chair. She even pretends to blindfold him with it for a second." When he said this, he punctuated his words by covering my eyes with one hand. Giving me the experience of losing sight for a moment. "When she has the tie wrapped around his head so he can't see, she nibbles his ear. His neck. His throat." Mulder took one finger and slid it down each body part he mentioned. My chest was rising and falling quickly. Then, without warning his hand that was blocking my vision was removed and both hands fell back onto my shoulders. "Suddenly, he's had it. Remember they've got years of sexual tension built up between them. Swiveling the chair around he grabs her and pulls her into lap. His mouth finds hers and he smothers her with it, pushing his tongue deeper and deeper into her mouth. They're both squirming frantically and it's obvious that this won't last long." As he talked his fingers were walking slowly towards the swell of my breasts. They were flirting right at the tops, taking their time before they dove further south. I was breathless in anticipation, more aware than I had been before. "Do you know what he does next, Scully?" I shook my head no and he laughed softly and moved his hands lower. Circles were being traced around my nipples again, and I could barely think. "He picks her up and places her on top of his desk. Throwing all that damned paperwork to the floor, he pushes her backwards until she is laying flat against the cool wood, her legs dangling over the side. And then he's touching her everywhere. His hands are hot and they are all over her, squeezing her breasts, sliding up the skirt she's still wearing." Mulder finally gave up his relentless circles and pinched the hard nubs that had, once again, been waiting for his attention. With that action, I was undone. Before I could even explain what I was doing, I had flipped over and was kissing him with all the ferocity that he had been describing. Our hands were everywhere, crawling over each others bodies with the sudden desire to learn everything all at once. I was pulling at his clothes, trying to remember why they were still on and why I hadn't removed them sooner. I thought he was about to help me when I was quite suddenly being lifted into the air. Our lips were still pressed firmly against each other, tongues still battling for control as he blindly made his way to the bedroom. To be carried this way, when we were both behaving so wildly felt clumsy and awkward and absolutely perfect. Once we were at the edge of his bed he tossed me backwards and I landed with a soft swoosh. I looked up and saw a very wanton reflection of me and decided it would be best if I concentrated on watching my partner undress. If you could call it undressing. What he was doing was more like tearing his clothes off his body. I saw several buttons fly when his dress shirt came off, and I was briefly concerned for the state of his expensive clothes. All thoughts of money flew from my head when I saw his body bared to me, as piece by piece his clothes hit the floor. I suddenly realized that I was still wearing all of my garments and began pulling at them with the same gusto. Having had a head start, he beat me and was naked and on top of me before I had the chance to remove my skirt or panty hose. I should have cared, but I didn't because we were touching again and everything about him felt absolutely delicious. I had never experienced love making like that before. Passion didn't even begin to describe it, as I felt my analytical mind being swept away and allowed myself to become a being of pure sensation. His mouth was like a delectable fire and I was intensely aware of it as it drew a path around my neck and between my breasts. He was constant and persistent, only pausing in his kisses to gulp for air. Each time he came up to breathe, he moaned my name like a reverie, "Scully." "Please, Mulder." I couldn't help it. What he was doing to me felt absolutely wonderful, but I was ready. We had been engaged in seven years of foreplay, and waiting seven more seconds seemed too long. "Scully." His voice was almost a whine. I could tell he was torn between all the things he wanted to do for so long, and yet his raging desire pleading with him for release. "I can't wait." I made the decision for him. Then we were both pulling at my skirt and stockings, desperate to get them off at any cost. Before I knew it, he was on top of me again, and I could feel his hardness pressing against me in the most intimate of places. As he slid along me, I was coating him with my wetness and he moaned loudly. He reached down and guided himself to my entrance. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his thrust, but it didn't come. I felt like I was waiting forever before I finally raised my lids again to question him. He was looking at me with a tenderness that belied all of the intense passion we had just been experiencing. The _expression on his face was enough to make my heart constrict bitter-sweetly. "I need you to know, Scully," he began, his voice husky with emotion and arousal, "I need you to know how much you mean, how much this means to me. I don't want you to think that this is just me...you know..." he trailed off. Words had often failed us at moments like these, times when we needed to express just how vital the other was. I reached up and cupped his face in my hands feeling the evening stubble rough against my palms. I understood everything he was trying to say, and knew how difficult it was for him. "I know, Mulder. Me too." I think to an outsider we would have had an empty exchange. Some might even criticize us for not communicating better. However, we understood the emotion behind the words that were uttered and those that went unsaid. For Mulder and I, we had a moment as intimate as exchanging wedding vows. In the afterglow of those promises, while we both started into each others eyes, Mulder pushed himself inside of me. Perfection is the only way to describe how it felt. To be so full and so complete. Our bodies moved together, the motions as fluent as if we had always done them. Somehow, I always knew it would be this way between the two of us. Once you removed all the extraneous stuff, we shared an amazing bond. Of course it would be present in the bedroom, just as it was everywhere else. My orgasm was not shattering, instead I would almost describe it as romantic. Mulder watched me as the waves of pleasure fell over me, and I felt cradled in joy and sensation. His orgasm was the perfect counterpart to mine, occurring mere seconds after mine had ended. I was thrilled to watch his face contort into a happy grimace as he filled me with his seed, rocking his hips into mine until he was empty. I can't tell you if I dozed off for two minutes or for two hours, but when I opened my eyes again Mulder was hovering over. Propped up on one elbow, his free hand was gently pushing tendrils of hair away from my face. "Hi." I said, too sated to think of anything more creative. "Hi." He smiled back, still running fingers through my hair. "I'm glad I asked you that question." My attempt at speech was lame, but it was the best I could come up with. "Me too." He replied. And for the second time that night those words carried unspoken promises and silent vows. "Me too." I echoed again, and he smiled in understanding.