Games: Dungeon and Dragons
SUMMARY: Scully's looking to play, and the partner doesn't matter.
It was getting harder and harder to avoid old girlfriends, or current ones for that matter. It was a bad idea to sleep with women connected with work, but when work was ninety percent of your life, exactly _when_ were you supposed to find time to socialize elsewhere? Thank god a few of them at least lived out of town. Scully sighed and glanced at the discreet plaque next to the stairs leading down to an ornate wooden door with a small peep hole. _The Caverns_.
Word of mouth had it that this club was members only, exclusive and elite. Fortunately, Holly had given her a reference -- before she'd told her in no uncertain terms to limit her extracurricular activities or find another bed to warm. They'd had that conversation before -- trysts in the lab and quickies in the elevator were fun, but she had no intention of marrying her, for god's sake. And she'd never told any of them she was interested in the long term. Well --- maybe one or two -- but she'd told them when her feelings changed. When she couldn't quite bring herself to make the committment. When the fear of failure -- Ah, hell, she didn't want to think about that right now. Which was why she was here in the first place.
She rang the bell set into the carved wooden frame and put on her best impassive FBI face. She stared unblinking at the small hole in the door, wondering what the eye on the other side gleaned from her appearance. Her trenchcoat, black turtleneck sweater and close fitting jeans were standard issue at a place like this, revealing nothing. Light make-up, flawless skin, red-hair gleaming even in the dim light. Cool blue eyes, hard unreadable eyes most of the time. Once in a while the emotion surfaced -- when Mulder was being his most impossible, or most endearing. When the woman in her arms touched her heart as well as her body -- fleetingly, unexpectedly. When the horrors of a particular case broke through her defenses when she was weary. But not tonight -- tonight she was in control. She wanted a diversion, a few moments when she chose the playing field, she picked the game, she decided on the rules. Not Mulder, not Skinner, not her father -- _her_.
The door opened, she made the necessary responses, and the immaculately tailored guardian of the gate allowed her entrance. She walked down the long shadowed corridor toward the even darker room at the rear, feeling the rhythm of the music through the floor, aware of the answering beat of her heart. Her blood began to surge. stirring with the excitement of the unknown. What, or who, awaited her in the arena where titles and names and past histories had no meaning? Where only the moment was real --- and the reality you chose to create was all that existed. You were anyone you chose to be -- for as long as the spell lasted. All that was required was the right partner to join in the game.
After securing a drink and a place along the highly polished bar, she hooked one heel of her low-cut riding boot over the brass rail just above floor level and surveyed the room. Muted recessed lights, a requisite space for dancing, and some intriguing alcoves edging the perimeter suggested this was not the type of club designed for simple socializing. *Good choice, Holly. Remind me to thank you properly as soon as you're speaking to me again*
Her fleeting thought of just how she would do that fled as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and she found something of more immediate interest. Blond, built, and at the moment encased in black leather pants and a black silk shirt open far enough to reveal one small firm breast nearly to the nipple. Her senses rippled with the still fresh memory of exactly how good that body felt under her. Brett.
She took her time, letting the anticipation build. She watched her watch the crowd, a lioness hunting. She knew when Brett first saw her by the slight start of recognition, then the intense blue gaze flickered away. But it returned, staying a little longer each time, washing over her from head to toe, caressing her with almost tangible intensity. She felt herself swell, grow damp, begin to throb. Oh yes -- that sweet mindless panacea for lonliness and rage. So welcome -- sensation replacing thought, desire replacing longing, lust replacing --
She set her glass down carefully, slipped into the crowd. She'd had enough. She was ready.
Scully moved out of shadow to stand quite close to the austere blond with the brilliant blue eyes. Their eyes met for a second, a flare of desire openly acknowledged. Then she lowered her gaze, appreciating the expanse of skin laid bare by the partially open shirt, the trim fit of her hips, the --
Scully caught her breath, sucking her lower lip between her teeth to stiffle the gasp. When she searched Brett's handsome face she caught the faint grin before it was quickly extinguished. *God, she's an insolent thing. And so fucking hot* Not to be outdone, Scully boldly reached for the bulge so obvious now under the fly of the tight black leather. She pulled the cock slightly, then pushed it back again into Brett's pelvis. It was Brett's turn to gasp. "I hope this isn't just for show," Scully whispered, stepping closer still. Her breasts pressed against Brett's chest, and she straddled Brett's long lean thigh between her own. She thrust her hips gently as she continued to manipulate the cock in Brett's pants. She knew damn well every movement was rubbing the base over Brett's clit, and she hoped to hell it was making Brett as hot as she was getting from the friction of her jeans against her own swollen shaft.
"Careful," Brett warned softly, her breath a hot breeze in Scully's ear, "you'll make me come in my pants."
"Mmm -- too easy," Scully murmured, easing off on her hand motion, but not letting go. "I want to make this last."
Brett slipped her arms around Scully's waist, inclining her head to brush her lips against Scully's cheek, nibbling at the corner of her mouth. "My place?" She moaned as the smaller woman pushed hard against her crotch, driving the cock firmly down onto her clit. "Fuck -- that's good- "
Scully ran her tongue over Brett's upper lip, then pushed under to suck it into her mouth. She drew on it rhythmically until Brett moaned again, then released her. "I'm just a few blocks away. Can you walk that far without this cock making you come?"
Brett smiled, that half smile of impudence and challenge. "I'll manage if you stop jerking on it."
Scully frowned. "Well -- for a minute or two."
Brett took her hand. "Then let's not waste time. I'm not made of stone."
"Oh baby, I know," Scully whispered as she led her into the night.
Silently, Scully drew her across the darkened living room to her bedroom. A nightlight glowed faintly in the adjoing bath, casting shadows in long fingers over the bed and walls.
"Take your shirt off and lie down," Scully said quietly, reaching beneath the coverlet to the drawer built into the platform bed.
Brett hesitated for one second, then, a decision made, she released the few remaining buttons on her shirt and stripped it off. The muscles in her chest and arms were tight with anticipation.
"On your back," Scully added, not looking at her.
Brett complied wordlessly, not resisting as the soft leather cuffs enclosed her ankles and wrists. Even when her arms and legs were spread almost to the point of discomfort she did not speak. To speak would be to break the spell-- the spell of her own willingness to be taken. Incongruously, her cock pressed up against the restraints of her leather pants, an impotent sign of her power reduced to servitude. Her clit pounded beneath it, stimulated both by its presence and her inability to use it.
Scully stood beside the bed, slowly disrobing. She watched in fascination as Brett began to twist against the restraints -- not from pain but from insistent desire. Brett was breathing faster now, a thin sheen of sweat covering her breasts and belly. Her hips thrust upward, the mound of constrained phallus clearly evident. Scully licked her lips and stepped up onto the bed, naked.
She straddled Brett's slim hips, hovering just above the leather covered cock. "How bad do you want to fuck me?" she asked, leaning forward so her breasts dangled just out of reach of Brett's searching lips.
"Oh, god -- so bad," Brett moaned, trying to push herself up against Scilly's wetness. "So fucking bad."
"Mmm --" Scully replied, "I'll bet you do." She lowered her head to take one stone hard nipple in her mouth. When she bit down she settled firmly onto the ridge of Brett's cock, sliding slowly along it's length.
"Oh man," Brett gasped. "That'll make me come." The muscles in her neck stood out beneath the satin skin as she arched higher, trying to get more of her breast into Scully's mouth. "Oh --no -- " she cried as Scully pulled on her nipple once, then released it to the cool night air.
"Not yet," Scully directed thickly, trying to ignore the tingling urgency in her clit where it dragged over the prominence in Brett's pants. "I'll tell you when."
"Oh, please, soon," Brett implored. The pressure on and in her clit was growing unbearable.
One hand still pinching Brett's nipple, Scully reached between them and worked the zipper down, slipping inside and grasping the pliable cock, warm with Brett's body heat. She pulled it out until it projected upward between the spread folds of Brett's fly. Gripping the shaft, she rubbed the head between her own soaked lips.
"Ah -- yes," she groaned as the smooth surface slid over and around the exposed tip of her clitoris. Her eyes closed against her will as she began to thrust rhythmically against it. She wanted to come badly, had wanted to from the first moment she had seen the outline of the cock nestled against Brett's belly. She wanted to ride Brett until they were both coming, uncertain -- uncaring, of who fucked whom.
Brett panted in the near darkness, a prisoner of the relentless motion mercilessly working her clit to the bursting point. "I'm -- gonna-- comeyou'remakingmecome--"
Scully forced her eyes open, glancing down as she slowly slid the long length of cock into her -- watching it disappear as she simultaneously felt the pressure grow deep inside. "Oh yeahoh yeah, that's so --good."
She leaned forward, lacing her fingers through Brett's above the cuffs, her nipple level with Brett's lips. "Suck it," she gasped as she began to rock her hips up and down the shaft, pushing and pulling her clit along its length. She was very close already, but oh, how she wanted it to last. She hadn't counted on Brett being able to move.
"Oh -- sweet god," Scully cried in surprise as Brett raised her hips, burying the cock just a little deeper. "Don't -- wait --"
"Can't," Brett grunted, increasing the tempo of her thrusts. "Gotta come -"
Scully was lost, the swirling ribbons of release escaping her control, racing down her legs, through her spine, to burst into rainbows of color behind her eyes. "Oh noooo--" she conceded as her body erupted. Brett surrendered with a deep groan of her own, and for a moment all was motion and sound as they fought their way to peace.
Eventually Scully stilled, her face pressed to Brett's neck, her body trembling against her. She raised one hand and managed to release the snaps on the arm retraints. "You pack quite a punch," she whispered in Brett's ear, still feeling herself contract on the cock inside her.
Brett circled Scully's back, holding her close. 'Yeah. And you fuck like a girl." She kissed her, and they both laughed.
"Perfectly," they said simultaneously.
DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Scully, Mulder, Skinner and others/events introduced on the X-Files are the sole property of Chris Carter etc, and are used here without permission for entertainment, not for profit.