Date: Tue, 27 Jul 1999 20:40:18 -0400 From: Sheryl Martin Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Please Archive... grin... All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part... go ahead, take me to court... I'm using the insanity defense... heh, heh, heh... Comments, complaints and just plain talk to sheryl_martin@goodmedia.com Summary: oh, another smutty occasion... Spoilers: uh... none... Rating: Story, NC-17, Skinner/? The continuation of Mystery Date - tho you don't have to had read that one before this one, of course... this is for Red... who gives good... bribes... ;-) Mystery Date II (NC-17) by Sheryl Martin I am late. Opening the door I slip into his office; seeing the disapproval and annoyance on his face as he finishes talking on the phone, perched on the edge of his desk like a panther ready to strike. And darn it, I'm fresh meat. Dropping the receiver down into the cradle Assistant Director Walter Skinner peers at me over the top of his glasses. "You're late." Crossing his arms in front of him he waits. "Traffic." "I bet." Tugging at his tie he motions me to come closer. "I have a meeting with Kersh in ten minutes. More budget problems." I try not to smirk. "Really." "Really." Reaching out with one hand he runs it along my arm; pulling me closer to him without once moving from his position at the desk. "So..." Leaning forward he smiles with the most delicious of devouring grins. "This might have to be a bit... faster than usual..." I open my mouth to laugh but instead I'm blinded as he spins me around and pushes me onto the desk face-first; his hands encircling my waist as he efficiently and quickly strips me from the waist down. Pulling my shirt free he lets it dangle from my arms; sending a shiver down my spine at what we must look like; half-clothed and definitely assuming the position. A second later I hear his own slacks fall to the ground and imagine the grimace on his face at the idea of leaving them there to wrinkle, if only for a few minutes. Once a Marine... I turn to see his face and suddenly he's kissing me; his tongue darting around my mouth as his hands roam my naked legs, skipping over the skin like a stone on water. My hands roam over the freshly-pressed shirt; tangling in the tie like a drowning man searching for a lifeline. It's awkward and I give up after a few seconds, using my hands instead to brace myself against the thick wooden desktop. "Oh, yah..." The low grunt comes as he presses against me, his hands trying to be gentle but the undercurrent of lust is too strong and wins out as he pushes me forward; slamming into me in a rough puff of wind mixed with a yelp mixed with a groan and perhaps a bit of a cry. His teeth nip the back of my neck as he pulls back for another stroke and another; each deeper and faster than the last, his hands both steadying me and rocking us back and forth. I can do nothing but stare at the desk and the precisely-arranged file folders spread across the top; my own breath being stolen with every slick thrust. Suddenly his glasses fly over my shoulder, skittering to a stop at the very edge of the polished wood; precariously balanced. The phone rings. I expect him to falter; maybe to even pause in his rhythm before deciding to ignore it. Instead a hand reaches past me and picks up the phone. "Skinner..." The low rumble at the base of my neck almost makes me laugh until I realize the danger in this game. His pace never slackens; his single free hand darting again between my legs to flick and tease and pinch where he knows it does the most good. Or bad, depending on how you look at it. Either way, I am in big trouble. "Yes, I remember the details of that case..." Each syllable is punctuated with a raw deep thrust; his free hand now curled around my chest as he rocks back and forth with me on the edge of the desk. "Uhm.. yes, I think I'm coming down with something..." This must be in response to the low grunt that I caused; drew out of him with a nasty wriggle of my hips and a clenching of my own - a trick I save for times like this. In reply he increases his strokes; quicker and faster and harder and now I'm literally face-down on the desk as his hands slides down to touch me where I need it most and he knows I dare not say a word. Bastard. He's close too, I can tell. The breathing is becoming erratic, no matter how much he's trying to pretend to the caller that he's just having another coughing fit or choking on a drink of water or just plain asthma. "Look, I've got a meeting in a few minutes - I'll talk to you about this later..." The gasped growl isn't even fresh in the caller's mind before the phone slams down back into the cradle and his lips are on the back of my neck again; hot and forceful as his teeth drag over one earlobe. "You little..." The curse turns into a low snarl that turns into what could only be called a whimper as he pushes me back down onto the desk; his body tensing as he pulses inside me. His hands grab hold of me, his fingers knowing exactly where to push and touch and pull and stroke and pinch and flick... I shatter apart; coming to a second later to realize that I have inadvertently drooled atop one of his files. The moist spot lies atop the desk as he slowly withdraws from me, his ragged breathing the loudest sound in the room. "Dammit..." The chuckle echoes in my ear. "That's the report I have to present." I turn my head and return the grin. ***************** current voting status of Skinner's Mystery Date: Mulder Scully Kimberly Diana Fowley (?) Monica Lewinsky (??) ;-) ************************* "Heart of a warrior, mind of a fool... soul of a romantic..." - Jackie St. George ************************* Come visit The Dragon's Lair at http://members.tripod.com/~dragonarchive or http://www.geocities.com/area51/chamber/7976 (yes, we've moving!!!) ************************* "But it's an IRRATIONAL fear..." - Scully