From: tesla_321 Date: 1 Apr 2004 21:42:26 -0800 Subject: xfc: New: Sense Memory 3 (1/1) by Tesla Source: atxc Title: Sense Memory III Author: Tesla Rating: R. Smut. Spoilers: None, but set way before the advent of Will Keyword: MSR, PWP Probability: Low Archive: Anywhere, anytime Disclaimer: Chris Carter and 1013 created Mulder and Scully. The characters seem to have some time on their hands, so I borrowed them. Feedback: Cool. I'm always home at Tesla@hiwaay.net Notes: 'Cause MaybeAmanda and Redwyne told me to write more. Thanks to MaybeA, the fastest beta in the, er, north Of all the ways Dana Scully dreamed of fucking her partner, pool tables had never been a featured kink. True, you had your sexual imagery, with the sticks and the balls, the pockets and the felt. And Mulder with a stick in his hand. She didn't know how to play pool, really. She knew how to get a guy to show her how to play, how to wear a tight summer dress and strappy sandals, and have the guy lean her over the table and hold her fingers on the stick. She could see doing that with Mulder, them bending over the table in perfect sync, his chest against her back, her ass grinding into his groin. Snap, click, and the 8-ball went into the corner pocket. That was fun, on a warm spring night in a bar, with the low murmur of a baseball game on television, and a couple of bottles of beer sweating condensation on the table rail. She would like to have fun with Mulder in a bar, see the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he teased her. He loved to see her laugh. //her head thrown back against the rack of cue sticks, laughing a full-throated laugh, yanking Mulder's tie loose; the hiss the rep fabric made against the starched cotton, God she loved Mulder's shirts, Mulder's shoulders in a starched shirt// Her hands were sweating on the steering wheel. Mulder looked out of the passenger window, his trendy expensive sunglasses on. Zoned out. That's the only way she got to drive, if Mulder was zoned out thinking about a crime scene, or some pick-up basketball game, or some way to work a double-entendre off her last remark. He was hardly breathing. //panting, mouths crashing into each other and his tongue at her earlobe, behind her ear, his mouth nipping her chin, her neck, his open mouth painting her skin with honey, and the honey spreading down her entire body. She couldn't breathe, she was breathing pure oxygen// She couldn't just fantasize a moment of pure bliss like that. She could hear the exact whisper of his zipper as she lowered it, his sigh as she put her hand on his erection, how she//polished the head of his dick with her palm, and his skin quivered and he got harder under her fingers, how could something feel so hard and so silky soft at the same// She hastily took her hand off the gear shift. #