Hot by beduini (1/1)

Rating:  NC-17 for adult language and situations

Category:  MSR, RST, PWP

Spoilers:  None - Mulder rocks my world and Scully's

Disclaimer:  Go on, film it.  I dare ya...

Archive:  Please email URL to beduini2@yahoo.com

Summary:  A man, a woman, and a Windsor chair.

Thanks go to Sybil, Kimberly, Dlynn, Kerri and Marty for providing 
commentary and input at various stages of development. 

Hot
by beduini

The fan in the window did little to relieve the humid stillness, 
bringing in dank, flat evening air to co-mingle with the thick, 
stale atmosphere in Scully's stifling apartment.  The room was 
steadily growing darker, shadows of dusky violet and gray playing 
over her features and the furniture.  It was too hot to turn on a 
light.

Her pantyhose, shoes and jacket lay forgotten where she'd peeled 
them off near the front door.  Too sticky to risk ruining the 
upholstery on the sofa or the chintz-covered club chair in the 
living room, she sat in a most unladylike position on a wooden 
Windsor chair in the dining area, her bare legs sprawled out wide in 
front of her.  She slouched on the edge of the seat, resting her 
head against the chair back and fanning her face with the latest 
issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association.  The pages 
made a thin, rasping sound as they ruffled back and forth in front 
of her face, doing little to relieve the oppressing heat.  

She sighed, and dropped her arm to her lap without finesse, letting 
the journal fall to the floor.  With the loss of her makeshift fan, 
perspiration immediately beaded on her temples and her upper lip.  
Her bra and the waistband of her skirt were already soaked from the 
occasional rivulet that traveled down smooth skin until finding 
resistance in satin and cotton, and she pulled her fitted T-shirt 
away from the damp skin of her abdomen, squirming.  It was so damn 
hot, she couldn't be bothered to get up and change into something 
dry.  

In her other hand, she held a small tumbler of ice, the condensation 
gathering on the outside of the glass mimicking the appearance of 
her skin.  She raised the glass to her forehead and smoothed it down 
the side of her temple, closing her eyes to the brief sensation of 
cool against warm before raising the glass to her lips, drawing a 
shrinking cube into her mouth and closing her lips around it.

Opening her eyes halfway, Scully stared at her partner, leaning on 
one arm against the kitchen counter, his head bowed and an identical 
glass of ice pressed against the back of his neck.  His T-shirt 
clung to him, patches of perspiration staining the heather color to 
near black under his arms and across the middle of his chest.

They were supposed to be working.  They'd abandoned the basement 
office when the walls started to sweat, and moved to Mulder's 
apartment to spread out more comfortably.  Mulder's apartment was 
too hot, so they'd only stopped long enough for him to change out of 
his work clothes and moved on to Scully's, since she'd had the 
foresight to leave for work that morning with her thermostat set on 
low.  Of course, that was before they'd learned that the air-
conditioning in her building had been off since the central unit 
broke down that afternoon.

Needless to say, they'd stopped arguing over the inconclusive 
information they had gathered on the case they were currently 
investigating, and let the tension hang silently in the air, along 
with the heat and humidity and the static electricity building from 
the approaching thunderstorm.  

Setting his glass down on the countertop, Mulder grabbed the hem of 
his shirt in his hands and pulled it over his head, tossing it 
across the room to land in a heavy lump beside her discarded layers 
near the door.  Scully raised an eyebrow at him, crushing ice 
between her molars.  He was left wearing only a pair of cotton 
athletic shorts, the waistband soaked with sweat.  Their eyes met 
and held in commiseration over their current situation.

"You want to get out of here and go someplace cool?" he asked with 
little enthusiasm, leaning back against the counter in a manner that 
suggested he had no intention of going anywhere.

"Where?"

He gave a half shrug, which seemed to be all he could muster.  "I 
don't know, maybe we could just drive around in the car with the air 
conditioning on high."

A brief flash of lightning illuminated the room through her front 
window, and she sighed, closing her eyes.  "That would require 
movement."  She twisted her neck, feeling a few freeing pops.  
"Besides, there's a storm moving in."

He was silent a few beats, then said, "Maybe I'll take a shower."

"Another one?"

"As long as the water is on, I'm cool," he replied, lifting his chin 
and raising his glass to his lips. 

The ice made a tinkling sound as it slid back down the side and hit 
the bottom of the glass.  An answering sound of thunder rumbled in 
the distance, several octaves lower.

"I thought we were going to finish our report."

They were both on edge, unable to agree on insignificant issues in 
what they both knew was a ridiculous case.  Mulder raised his gaze 
and looked at his partner.  With what little light filtered into the 
room, he could see few strands of hair clinging to her cheek and the 
skin on her neck and chest shining with perspiration.  She was 
completely limp, the oppressing humidity overriding her usual 
decorum.  Her suit skirt was hiked up her thighs and he could see 
the full expanse of her legs, ending at the thin purple scrap of 
material that along with her bra and T-shirt, constituted the 
entirety of her modesty at the moment.

They were at an impasse.  He closed his eyes, sighing, "It's too hot 
to work."

Impasse or not, if it weren't so hot, he'd be completely turned on 
at the sight of Scully flashing him her underwear.  Even though he'd 
had the full-on view plus some on several occasions, there was 
something forbidden, something hot about being able to see all of 
the way up her skirt.  Working so closely with her for so many 
years, it was the small things that caught him off guard, like an 
unhindered view up her skirt, or down her shirt, that hit him the 
hardest since their relationship had taken on a whole new personal 
dimension.  He might have caught a few peeks in all of the years 
that they'd worked together, but she was less modest now, and he was 
less careful about getting caught looking.

Raising his glass to his lips once more, he took an ice cube between 
his teeth and sucked on it as he felt a small movement down below.  

Okay, he thought, so maybe he was turned on, anyway.  Still, as hot 
as it was, she wasn't going to let him near her.  This he knew.  
He'd be better served getting back in the shower and jerking off 
under the cool spray, imagining he was pounding into her instead.  
Unless...he could persuade her to join him.  His mind played out 
images of the two of them, slick and wet, copulating against the 
slippery tile.  Been there, done that.  With his photographic 
memory, it merely served to fuel his growing interest in a repeat 
performance.

The wind kicked up outside, blowing city dust in through the open 
window, the fan whirring as the air passed through it.  Her face 
wore a contemplative expression as she glanced at him, humming 
softly with the brief passage of air and closing her eyes once more.

He could smell the dust, and her perspiration mingled with the 
lightly scented lotion she'd applied after her morning shower.  More 
action down below, and he was well on his way to having to make some 
kind of a decision about showering as a single or making a serious 
pitch for a double.

Scully lifted her glass to the side of her neck, the ice making the 
same tinkling sound as his moments before.  She ran the glass down 
the middle of her chest, leaving a wet trail in its wake, then 
reached in and pulled out another ice cube, sucking it into her 
mouth with a loud slurp.

That time, as lightning struck once more, he experienced 
inequivocal, definite movement.  Double or nothing, then.  Drawing a 
deep breath accompanied by a rumble of thunder, his decision was 
made.  He moved slow and deliberate with a conspiratorial grin, 
easing himself into position behind her chair, jiggling the ice in 
his glass gently and crouching down, his face just over her right 
shoulder.

"Don't even think about it," she said in warning.

"What?" he replied innocently, reaching into the glass and drawing 
out one of the larger pieces of ice.  "You don't trust me?"  He 
placed the ice in his mouth, sucking the melting water off of the 
surface.

She let out a huff, knowing she couldn't deny him that.  He'd 
cheated, he knew.  Went straight for the jugular with the trust.   
He jiggled the glass again, and somewhere between a whimper and a 
whine, she said his name.

"Mulder..."

Mulder touched the glass to the back of her neck and she tensed as 
he ran the smooth, cold surface along her clammy skin.

"I'm just trying to help you cool off, Scully," he said, his voice 
velvety smooth and too innocent to be believed.  

Her shoulders dropped as he moved the glass, setting it down on the 
floor.  A moment later, a much colder piece of ice touched her skin 
and she nearly jumped at the sensation.

"Mulder!"

He chuckled, reaching around her from behind while sliding the ice 
down the side of her neck, his fingers expertly guiding it farther 
down her chest to the hollow between her breasts.  He leaned in 
close, blowing iced cool breath along the wet pink trail on her 
skin, and ran the ice along the top of her bra until her nipples 
grew firm and rose up through the fabric.

"That's more like it."

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "That's not 
arousal, Mulder, it's a physiological reaction to the temperature of 
the ice."

He continued to paint her skin, drawing goosebumps while his other 
arm encircled her, his hand cupping her breast.  

"This isn't turning you on?" he breathed against her ear, flicking 
her nipple with his thumb and sliding the ice cube back up her 
throat, over her chin and between her lips.

"Nope," she replied, taking the ice into her mouth and biting down 
on it.

He moved his fingers just in time to avoid getting bitten, and 
chuckled again.  Sliding his arm back around her, he cupped her 
other breast, gently kneading both while rubbing his thumbs over the 
stiff nubs in the center.  He laid his chin on top of her shoulder 
and tilted his face toward hers, looking up to watch her reaction.  
It was dark, but he could see that her eyes were closed, her face 
void of expression and her breathing even.  

He could tell that she was considering an appropriate response, but 
decided it would be too much effort to slap his hands away.

"Scuuuulllleeeeee..." he coaxed softly, still watching her.  He 
softly pinched her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

Opening her eyes halfway, she looked sideways at him.  "Mulder, it's 
too hot," she complained petulantly, although her breath hitched, 
and became a bit erratic.  

There was another flash of lightning, this time brighter than the 
last.  He pinched harder, noting her unwilling physiological 
response to his actions.  Hot or not, he was unquestionably aroused, 
and wasn't about to let the issue drop without giving it his best 
shot.  

The resulting thunder came sooner, indicating the approach of the 
storm outside.  "It's nice and cool in the shower," he crooned, 
still working her breasts.  "Refreshing."  He slid the tip of his 
tongue up the side of her neck, stopping just behind her earlobe.  
"Wet."

She drew in a deep breath through her nose and squirmed.  "Wet isn't 
much of an enticement."

"Maybe it isn't for you," he said, nipping at her earlobe, "but I 
strive for it."  He licked her earlobe with the tip of his tongue,  
his tongue still cool from the ice.  "Fantasize about it."  Then he 
pressed his lips against her temple.  "Crave it."

She tilted her head just a bit, perhaps trying to move away, or 
maybe she was allowing him a little more access.  "Go ahead, then, 
if you want it that badly."

He released one of her breasts, grabbed the bars on the back of the 
chair with his left hand, moved to her right and planted a knee on 
the floor next to the chair.  Sliding his hand down from her right 
breast, over her abdomen and the top of her right thigh, he paused 
at the hem of her skirt.  Then, reaching up, he slid his index 
finger over the soft material at the juncture of her thighs.  

His voice was expectant.  "May I?"

She looked up at him, her eyebrow raised.  "I was talking about the 
shower."

"So was I."  Despite the near darkness of the room, he could just 
make out his hand moving underneath the material of her skirt as his 
finger lightly teased slick satin.  It was a supreme turn-on.  Then 
he turned his head to look at her face once again.  "But this is a 
much better offer."  He gave her his most charming, unnerving grin, 
slipping his fingertip underneath the elastic and giving it a tug.

She remained still, and her eyes met his head on.  Then she looked 
down at his hand, which had paused underneath her skirt.  "It wasn't 
an offer."

His fingertip was still hooked under the elastic of her panties, and 
his fingernail barely grazed the sensitive skin underneath.  He slid 
his finger farther behind the satin, to the next knuckle.  There was 
a spark in his eyes as they stared into hers, silently challenging 
her to stop him as he began to graze the back of his finger up and 
down lightly over the soft hair of her mons.

She began to breathe faster, but didn't squirm or allow her 
expression to change.  There were appearances to maintain and a 
challenge to be met.  

"Come with me," he coaxed, his voice low.  He leaned forward, his 
lips barely brushing hers, their eyes open and still staring in 
challenge.

Her breath hitched again, and her response was slightly softer than 
before, but still somewhat of a whine.  "Mulder..."

"Scuuulllleeeeee..." he whispered against her lips, his voice 
pleading, "It'll feel really good."

Without breaking his gaze, she raised her right hand, and brushed 
the back of it down the front of his shorts.  Enough to get a good 
sense of his state of arousal.  Losing the battle, if not the war, 
he closed his eyes and let out a soft hiss at the brief contact.

"Scuullleee," he repeated, even softer, but with much more need.

When he opened his eyes, she was watching him, her lips parted.  She 
was breathing shallowly through her mouth.  Once more, lightning 
illuminated the room, followed just seconds later by more thunder.  
Raising the stakes, he moved his index finger to the side, then slid 
it inside of her.  His eyes flashed surprise before darkening.

"Jesus," he whispered, his breathing accelerating as he rubbed his 
finger around her wetness.  "You are such a tease.  How long did you 
intend to keep this up?"

With a wicked grin she shifted slightly, letting her legs open more 
to him, and the wind kicked up outside, driving another gust of air 
into the apartment through the fan in the window.  Along with the 
smell of dust and sweat came the sweet smell of her arousal, and he 
drew in a deep breath.

"Until the air comes back on or the storm breaks, whichever happens 
first."

He moved from her side, and when lightning filled the room with 
brightness, he was kneeling between her knees.  "Well, that plan has 
just been revised."

Running his hands up her thighs and underneath her skirt, he hooked 
his fingers in the waistband of her panties.  Grinning up at her, he 
tugged until she lifted her bottom slightly off the chair.  With the 
accompanying roll of the thunder, he tossed the satin undergarment 
over his shoulder, toward the growing pile of clothing near the 
door, then pushed the hem of her skirt above her thighs, nudging her 
legs farther apart.  

She watched him with amusement, and let out a light chuckle as his 
teeth grazed the tender flesh of her inner thigh.  Lifting her glass 
to her lips, she drew another ice cube into her mouth.  The 
remaining piece of ice hit the bottom of the glass and Mulder raised 
his head at the sound, then reached out and took the glass out of 
her hand.

She chewed the ice slowly, watching him very carefully.

Rattling the ice in the bottom of the glass, he grinned at her 
again.  "Only one left, Scully."  Reaching his fingers into the 
glass, he slowly drew out the last piece.

"You'd better be planning on eating that, Mulder," she warned, her 
expression stern.

"Oh, I am.  Believe me, I am," he replied seriously, sliding the ice 
into his mouth and holding it there.  He neither swallowed nor 
chewed, but leaned over to set the empty glass down on the floor.

Her eyes widened as she watched him.  "Mulder.  Don't."

He shook his head, speaking around the ice.  "What?"

"You know what.  Don't."

He moved in slowly, sliding his arms under her knees and around, 
over the tops of her thighs.  Her breathing was rapid, and 
illuminated by another flash of lightning, her chest rose and fell 
with each inhalation and exhalation, her fight or flight instinct 
kicking in.  She squirmed, but he held her in place, and brought his 
thumbs together over her mons, stroking them over the soft down.

"Mulder..." she whimpered once more time, panting as she watched his 
lips purse.

He blew a small, concentrated stream of cool air against her barely 
visible clit peeking out between the outer folds and her body 
tensed.  She held her breath as he pulled the folds back with his 
thumbs, and as soon as the subsequent thunder boomed, he lowered his 
mouth to her.

Her body jerked and she grabbed the edges of the chair on either 
side of her hips, her loud gasp echoing through the heavy apartment.  
He grinned, and stroked her with his nearly frozen tongue, using the 
tip to outline her clit, then running the flat side from bottom to 
top, holding the small piece of ice against her sensitive bundle of 
nerves for a brief moment, repeating the cycle.  The ice had 
dissolved by the fourth pass of his tongue, and he changed the 
rhythm, thrusting his tongue into her vagina, then flicking the tip 
against her clit, over and over until his mouth was as hot as she 
was.  Completely at his mercy, she reached down and took his head in 
her hands, holding him in place and thrusting her pelvis in time 
with his motions, feeling the coiling and tightening just below her 
stomach as her body prepared for its release.

Right before she came, he stilled, licking his lips and sitting back 
on his heels.  She was left panting, on the verge of one hell of a 
powerful orgasm, so close to the finish line.  Rising to his feet, 
Mulder extended his arm and held his hand out to her.

"Come on."

Illuminated in a flash of lightning, her eyes were glazed under 
furrowed brows.  "What, that's it?  You're just going to leave me 
hanging?"

He tilted his head toward the bathroom.  "Save it for the shower."

"No."

"Scully...trust me."

Accompanied by thunder, she let him help her to her feet, and he 
tenderly laid a hand on her shoulder, pausing to let her know that 
he was sincere.  Her breathing was still heavy, and she placed her 
hands on his hips, bowing her head toward his chest but not 
touching.  Her entire body was drenched in sweat, as was his, and as 
light flooded the room once again she could see the tip of his 
erection peeking out underneath the soaked waistband of his shorts.  

The booming of the thunder came much sooner and Mulder whispered, 
"The storm's getting closer.  Maybe your plan will work out."

She looked up at him, and holding his gaze, carefully pulled the 
drawstring on his shorts, sliding her hands between the wet material 
and his clammy ass, pushing his shorts down over his hips and 
thighs.

"Sit down," she said, glancing down and watching his erection bob 
freely between them.

He laughed softly, raising his hand to stroke the side of her face.  
"Patience, my dear Scully, is a virtue that will pay better odds 
than the house tonight.  Come on."

She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and stroked up, 
rubbing her thumb over the head, causing him to groan deep in his 
throat.

"Sit down, Mulder," she said again, stroking him a few more times 
before dropping her hand to her side.  "Now."

He let out a shaky sigh and turned, gingerly sitting down on the 
chair.  His erection arched up toward her, thick and solid, and she 
wet her lips, wrapping her hand around it once more.

"Fuck," he groaned, falling back against the back of the chair, 
giving himself over to her.

Still grasping his cock, she straddled his thighs, positioning his 
tip at her swollen opening.  "Precisely what I had in mind," she 
said, panting softly through parted lips, placing her hands on his 
shoulders and lowering herself, feeling him stretch and fill her.  
He groaned again.  She closed her eyes and let all of the air leave 
her lungs as her ass made contact with the tops of his thighs. 

His hands went to her hips, pushing up underneath the material of 
her skirt to grab bare skin.  She tried to move on him, soon 
discovering that her legs were too short with Mulder added to the 
equation, and she didn't have enough leverage with her feet on the 
floor to fuck him the way that she intended.  With an impatient 
huff, she looked over the side of the chair at the floor, and 
hooking her heels on the chair rails fastened between the chair's 
legs, tentatively raised her body, then eased back down.  Satisfied, 
she began to post on him, quickly finding the pace that he'd set 
with his mouth moments before.

Mulder closed his eyes, and bit his lower lip.  She was hot inside, 
and it was so hot outside, and every place their skin made contact 
was slick, sliding, rivulets of sweat dripping down their bodies, 
down his face, running in his eyes as they moved against each other.  
The rhythm she'd established was equitable to the both of them. 
  
Scully's head was thrown back and her eyes were closed, and his hips 
rose up to meet hers, joining, pounding together, lightning flashing 
and the sky outside crackling and rumbling in synchronization.  The 
static electricity in the air caused the hair on his arms and legs 
to stand on end and her fingers were clutching his shoulders, 
digging into the muscle, but he could only think about his cock, and 
how good it felt to thrust, to fuck, to be.

Scully shifted her position slightly, leaning forward and changing 
the angle in which he penetrated her, and increased the tempo, 
throwing more of her body weight into the action.  History told him 
she was nearing the finish line once again, her body tightening and 
her movements becoming more economical, more efficient as she 
focused on the exact placement and rhythm to reach her goal.  She 
began to breathe heavily, small noises escaping her throat as the 
tension built within her, then suddenly leaving her throat in a 
hoarse cry.  Her interior muscles clenched around him, hot, wet heat 
sliding down and over him and making him bite his lip to hold onto 
his control as she lost hers.

And he adored her...God, how he adored everything about her, even 
the annoying things, but that didn't matter right now because he 
couldn't remember any of those and she felt so amazing and real and 
she was here with him, still, panting and coming because of him, 
he'd done it to her, fucking her and he was oh so grateful that they 
were...

In a simultaneous burst of lightning and thunder he came, shooting, 
thrusting and shouting at once, "Scul-lee, God, thank you, thank 
you..."  

His hips finally stopped jerking beneath her and Scully's head 
dropped to his shoulder, her hair sticking to his neck.  He lightly 
touched his hand to the back of her head, breathing deeply, trying 
to cool down.  A breeze blew past them, this time it was cool and 
smelled like wet sidewalk and sex.  They both drew in a cleansing 
breath, and as their breathing slowed, they could hear the soft 
sound of rain hitting the window glass.

"The storm broke," he whispered, pressing a kiss against the side of 
her neck.  "Looks like your original plan worked out, after all."

She raised her head and looked at him.  A strand of hair clung to 
her cheek, and he moved it away with his index finger, tucking it 
back behind her ear.  She smiled, a tender, gentle, satiated smile 
that told him all of the secrets of her heart, warming him with a 
heat he never wanted to lose.  He smiled back and carefully, 
tentatively, she slid off his lap, testing her sea legs on solid 
ground.  Smoothing down the hem of her skirt, she ran her fingers 
through her hair and extended an arm, holding her hand out to him.

"Come on."

He stood with the weariness of a man his age and she paused to 
crouch down, drawing his shorts up his legs and over his hips, tying 
the string in a neat little bow at his waist.  He gave her a puzzled 
look and she wove her fingers through his, pulling him toward the 
front door.

"Where are we going?" he asked, wondering if he'd given it to her so 
good that she'd lost her sense of direction.  "The bathroom is..."

"When you said shower, Mulder, you didn't specify where."  Her voice 
was teasing as she pulled him out the door, into the dimly lit 
corridor.  

She was flushed a glorious pink, her eyes bright.  Mulder stopped 
near the outer entrance to her building and pulled her back against 
him, taking her face in his hands and kissing her thoroughly until 
they both gasped for air.  Their eyes met and held, and wearing 
playful grins, they pushed through the door and stepped out into the 
cool night rain.

fin

beduini2@yahoo.com

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