A Real Love - 2

A Real Love Part II
By Isahunter
(Isahunter@aol.com)
Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

A REAL LOVE PART II 2
DISCLAIMER:
These characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen, and Fox. No
infringement intended. This was only written out of love.
NC17! IF YOU ARE UNDER AGE, YOU SHOULDN'T BE READING THIS!

When the hell did I get so blessed? I’m holding this ethereal creature on my
lap, as naturally as if I’d been doing it all my life, and the only thing I
can think of at this moment is that I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive.
There is nowhere I’d rather be, no one I’d rather be with...and if aliens
landed on her doorstep right now, I’d ignore them. Maybe. Yeah, I’m pretty
damned sure I would.
"Do you have any idea..." I can’t even finish the thought.
"Yes, I know."
Her fiery hair is mussed, from one-too-many passes of my fingers. Her cheeks
are flushed, her eyes are sparkling, her lips are kiss-swollen, and I’ve never
seen her look more beautiful...then again...as her fingers move up to the
buttons of her blouse, and she begins sliding them free from their holes, I
have to re-phrase. NOW she’s at her most beautiful.
Her living room is shrouded in darkness, the only light drifting in from the
nearby kitchen. Shadows play over her curves, in a titillating hiding game.
Her golden cross shimmers against bare skin, the chain twisting on itself and
unraveling again with her movements. She shrugs her suit jacket off her
shoulders, and continues with the buttons on her shirt until every little one
is undone. I can barely swallow over the huge knot in my throat. Having the
right to touch her--a mere hand on her back or kiss on the forehead--is more
than I ever deserved. But this...this is how man must have felt when given
the gift of fire. Powerful, invincible, and completely terrified. When she
is through, she leaves the halves of her blouse closed...waiting for me to

take the next move. And that’s the problem. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
I’m not even sure if my heart is still beating. The crimson fabric of her
shirt slips open a bit, giving a tantalizing glimpse of flesh with her every
breath, before falling closed once more. I am mesmerized.
I can see Dana Scully’s bra. I almost laugh aloud at the thought. I feel
like a thirteen-year-old, getting ready to feel up his first girl.
"Mulder?"
I meet her gaze. She is looking at me expectantly. With a deep breath, I
relieve my hand from its attentive guard on her knee, and take what she so
cordially offered. My hand slips inside, under the fabric, and curves around
her waist. Compared to her skin, the silk is unmistakably rough against my
flesh. My left hand joins the other at her side, and the movement causes her
blouse to fall open loosely. With another deep breath, I just stare at her.
If this were a contest, I think, I’d be losing poorly...but then I notice her
breathing is just as erratic as mine. Her hands are no more steady as she
places them on my forearms. My eyes are probably no more glazed, either.
Shit. That’s not the only noticeable effect I’m having on her. Through the
delicate eyelet lace of her white bra, I can clearly see that my partner’s
nipples are erect. Scully is aroused. And not just a little bit. Her chest
is flushed, rising and falling rapidly to keep up with her lungs, and I can
literally see the eager throb of her pulse shaking her flesh. She’s
practically quaking. I lick my lips, sliding my hands up until they rest just
below the underwire of her bra. And with a simple flick of my thumbs, I shove

the fabric up and away, filling my palms with her heavy breasts.
She gasps, amazed I’ve done something so brazen. What she doesn’t know is
that this is something I’ve wanted to do for years. I’m just not wasting any
more time.
"Mulder, you know--there is a clasp on this bra."
I merely smirk at her, not wanting to move my hands for a second. Luckily,
she guesses my intentions and flips the catch for me. The cups fall away,
lying forgotten, much like her blouse, against her sides. She quivers like a
bird in my hands, so incredibly soft that I don’t ever want to stop touching
her. My thumbs rub in slow circles over her nipples, drawing an exquisite
little moan out of her mouth.
"Do you like that?"
"Mmm...yes."
"Do you want more?"
"So much more."
I lean forward, closer and closer, watching her eyes slip closed. My breath
moves across her skin, causing her to shiver. Her breasts jiggle against my
nose, and it almost tickles. I place a whisper of a kiss on the underside of
her breast, and she flinches against the touch. Her fingers clench hard in my
hair, drawing me closer, demanding more. How much more will it take?
In my sick little fantasies, Scully can come with little more than the brush
of my hand. I don’t fool myself into thinking that will actually happen. But
it does make me wonder. Just what does it take to give her pleasure? Where

do I need to touch her, how often, how hard or soft, how slow or fast?
What will my name sound like, when screamed from her lips?
God, it’s a good thing I’m not wearing jeans or I’d be seriously handicapped
by now. As it is, I’m almost certain I’m going to have to get rid of these
slacks, and quickly. But it can wait, a moment or two...
The touch of my tongue against her hot skin is delicious. She tastes better
than I imagined. I trace my tongue around the slope of her breast, slipping
back and forth against the plump surface, before finally gliding round the
pebbled texture of her nipple. She squirms on my lap, and I suck in a sharp
breath. Glorious torture. I can feel her hips shifting, rocking back and
forth against my leg, and I cannot stop from sliding down further on the couch
cushion, bringing my straining erection in perfect contact with her grinding
pelvis.
"Uhhhnnn--" The guttural groan escapes my mouth, causing her to open her eyes
and stare at me. An evil little smile twitches at her mouth. She rolls her
hips again, harder, slower, and I lift my own hips to meet her. This time we
both gasp. "Oh, hell yes."
She is nearly panting now, staring at me through heavy-lidded eyes as I
continue to kiss and lick her. And when I take her excited nipple into my
mouth, sucking strong, she nearly rips every last hair out of my head.
XXXXX
Oh, god, that mouth!
I have stared at Mulder’s mouth for years, noting the way his lips barely move

when he’s murmuring so low that only I can hear. I know the shape of his lips
by heart, as if I traced them with my fingers like a blind person. But I
never touched. I never knew just what a find I had in that pouty lower lip he
uses so well to his advantage. I never knew those lips could do this...could
send tickling electrical currents shooting through my entire body. Could make
me want to cry and laugh at the same time, because it feels so damned good.
The naughty things he’s doing to me almost have the ability to make me forget
I’m sitting here half-naked in my living room...with Mulder.
Who ever would’ve thought this could happen?
I release my brutal grip on his hair, surely taking dozens of the strands with
me, and he gazes up at me through his lashes. Why do men always have those
incredibly long lashes that women would kill for? Ooh, it doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters anymore.
Nothing but him.
I have always dreamed of those beautiful hands touching me. At first, I
thought I had to be desperately lonely to get such a thrill from just the most
brief of touches against my cheek. But now I know that’s not true. He has
always done this to me, has always moved me with just glance, just a whisper,
the mere smile in my direction. No other man has ever held the power that he
does. Could it be so surprising then that feeling his hands on me is enough
to make me weak, that his mouth on me is enough to short-circuit my brain?
He returns his mouth to mine once more, as if he cannot get enough of these
kisses. Neither can I. All the days and nights of longing, of looking but

never touching, of hoping but never knowing, have come down to this very
moment...passing in an instant. This final realization of love is worth all
the suffering I’ve ever felt. I would give my life for this man, would gladly
give up eternity just to please him. But I know he would rather die than ask.
Newly invigorated, I feel him wrap his arms around me and hold on tight. He
slides to the edge of the couch and stands, lifting me once more against his
chest, carrying me into the sanctuary of my bedroom. Of all the places I ever
imagined us making love, this was the last I ever expected. On his couch, on
a motel bed, in a parked car, in an elevator...I even imagined doing it on the
ground, in the forest in Florida. I always thought that if we ever succumbed
to this urge, it would be a dangerously impulsive and rash decision. I have
never been so glad to be wrong.
Releasing me, he lets me slide down the length of his body until my knees come
to a rest on the comforter. He doesn’t stop touching me, not once. His
fingers glide up my sides, tickling, barely skimming, until he reaches my
shoulders. He pushed the fabric of my blouse down my arms, his fingers
blazing a fiery trail of pleasure everywhere they go. As I kneel before him,
naked from the waist up, he drops my blouse and bra to the floor.
"Oh, God...Scully, you’re so beautiful," he murmurs, the words broken and
harsh.
My name on his lips is so precious. It is a name reserved for him only, and
he always manages to turn it into a caress.
I reach for the bottom of his sweater, tugging, and he lifts his arms to help

me remove it. Inch by inch, his torso is bared, delectably sprinkled with
hair. Hard, dark, and powerful. As I release his sweater, letting it fall
where it will, he pulls me closer and presses my chest to his. I gasp,
burying my face against his shoulder and cupping his triceps in my hands. His
chest hairs tickle, but that is not what startles me. It is the most intense
of sensations...chest to chest, breath to breath, heart to heart. I can feel
his pulse pounding through him, his breath raggedly shuddering in his lungs.
He presses his lips to my hair and takes a deep breath. It is not long before
I am lulled by his rhythm. He breathes out as I breathe in. He inhales as I
exhale. I can feel him, hard against my stomach, and my desire pools hot and
wet within. His hands slide down to cup my bottom, his fingertips mercilessly
teasing the middle seam of my slacks. I wonder if he can feel me shaking.
He pulls back a bit and meets my gaze. There is no need for words. We both
know exactly what we want...why is it only now that we finally admit it?
XXXXX
Her eyes hold a heavy-lidded sensuality that I’ve never seen before. Not on
Scully, or anyone. It makes my heart pound hard and heavy, in my chest, and
everywhere else. Especially in my groin. I know she can clearly sense how
much I want her. If she can’t see it in my eyes, surely she can feel it.
Quickly dispensing with my shoes and socks, I lean down to remove her shoes as
well. She waits patiently, content to watch me, kneeling on her bed in
partial nudity like a pagan goddess. I want to say something, but words have
escaped me. Nothing I could say would ever adequately express just what I’m

feeling. Nothing would do her justice.
"Lie down," I murmur, wanting her to be comfortable. As she reluctantly
complies, her movements spilling her copper hair over the bedspread like a
peacock’s tail, I can only stare at her. This is how she looked in my most
obscene of fantasies, and in my sweetest of dreams. I can’t decide which one
I’d rather have come true. Lucky for me, I think she’s willing to give me
both. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reach for the buckle on her slacks
and remove the belt. My eyes never leave hers as I open the slacks and slide
them off of her body. She gives a sudden look of embarrassment at the
pantyhose revealed underneath, but I can see nothing for her to be ashamed of.
Those silky hose only serve to showcase a great pair of legs. "You should
wear skirts more often."
"I didn’t think you noticed."
"You’d be surprised what I notice, Scully."
Her words are shaky leaving her mouth. "Oh, like what?"
Sliding the pantyhose down her legs, I grin at her. "Like the fact that you
bite your lip when you want something really badly."
She abruptly releases her lip and frowns. "I do not."
"You do. Especially when it’s a dessert you don’t think you should have."
Tossing the delicate hose over a nearby chair, I smirk in satisfaction. "Or
me, I’ve just noticed."
This earns me a feigned glare. "What else?"
Running my fingers up the inside of her calf, I see her flinch. "I’ve noticed

that you’re ticklish."
"I’m not the only one."
This surprises me. I had no idea she knew that. But why should I be amazed?
She knows me better than I know myself. "No, you’re not."
"Especially your ears."
I can feel myself turning red.
"And right here," she continues, tracing her fingers over the sensitive flesh
of my stomach. Even that little touch is enough to make me laugh. I grab her
hand, kissing her fingertips to stop her torture. Her voices lowers to a
husky whisper. "I never knew you were so vulnerable, Fox Mulder."
"Always, where you’re concerned."
Lying there, in only a skimpy pair of panties, she looks positively decadent.
Tempting and sinful. Painfully erotic...and yet--yet absolutely heavenly.
Divine. As if I’ve been given the key to paradise. I kiss her navel, her
hips, the softness of her thighs, the delicate arches of her tiny feet.
Feeling every little texture and committing it to memory. She lets her eyes
close, savoring the sensation, and when I tell her not to fall asleep, she
giggles. As if to say the thought is utterly absurd.
The gentle amber light from the nearby lamp casts her body in a golden aura.
Her hair shimmers, her skin glows. And as I slip my fingers inside her lacy
panties and pull them down her legs, my mouth goes dry. Her brow furrows, and
she knows I am gazing at her in total nudity, total surrender. Her
uncertainty would be endearing if it wasn’t such a blatantly uncalled for

reaction. She is gorgeous.
My hand smoothes up her body from her hip to her heart. "So beautiful."
She opens her eyes to look at me, and covers my hand with her own. "I love
you, Mulder."
"I love you, too."
"Kiss me?"
"Definitely."
I move up to her side, lying next to her, and she rolls to face me. She takes
my face in her hands, kissing me with every bit of passion she has bottled up
inside her. Without stopping, she reaches down and unzips my pants. Her hand
slips inside, caressing through the fabric of my boxers, making me gasp into
her mouth. I do not hesitate to return the favor. It is not long before we
have managed to lose both my slacks and my boxers over the side of the bed.
Wriggling frantically against each other, we build the friction so high I’m
certain sparks are flying from us. I have always loved to touch her, but I’ve
found an even greater thrill--her hands on me. She is not shy in her
explorations, but rather roams over my super-heated flesh with deft purpose.
I doubt she even realizes it, but every brush of her hand, every scrape of her
fingernails, is perfectly timed and placed. She follows the sounds of my
moans, using their frequency to judge just where to move next.
If I’m not mistaken, I am learning to play her strings just as quickly. The
vibrato sighs coaxed from deep in her throat, originating from a far deeper
and more secret part of her body, are music to my ears. She likes to be

touched and stroked, every bit as much as I like touching her. If only I’d
known that sooner.
XXXXX
I don’t know how much longer I can wait. He has had me on the edge of
insanity for what seems like forever now. I don’t need any more foreplay.
Six years was long enough. Now, I only want him.
Grasping his shoulders, I lift my hips and slide myself against him, telling
him unmistakably what I need. With a low growl, he readily complies. Lifting
my thigh over his hip, he slides his fingers through the hair between my legs
and opens me--finally, at long last, delving inside. So this is what it feels
like to have the man you love inside you. After more than six long years of
abstinence, of waiting only for him--yes, you heard me correctly--joining my
body with his is not as easy as it sounds. I am undeniably aroused, but it
doesn’t stop the twinge of pain that makes me gasp. He stops his gentle
plundering and holds my gaze.
"Are you all right?"
I can only nod. I’m more than all right. It is perfect. I am filled by him,
completed, just as he once said so eloquently. We are lying passionately
entwined, and I can only marvel at how perfect it is. Side by side as
partners, and now side by side as lovers. Mates, in more than one sense of
the word.
He slowly begins to move, establishing a rhythm I strive to meet. Working
together as one. As always. Blending in blessed harmony. My eyes never

leave his, his never abandon mine. Not even when the squall of pleasure
crashes in to claim him. If anything, he even stares at me more intensely,
reaching down to the depths of my soul. With the stroke of his hand over my
sensitive flesh, insistent and consuming, he pulls me in the deep end to join
him. Drowning in ecstasy. All the while, holding my other hand.
Reality slips back in slowly, like sunrise after finding sleep for the first
time in years. Heartbeats slow, breathing returns to normal. But his gaze
never leaves mine. He kisses me softly, blurring my vision of the moisture in
his eyes. So this is real love. I have never been happier in my life.
XXXXX
I hold her until the morning comes, and long after that. Unwilling to let go.
Unable to relinquish my prize. She loves me. Of everything I’ve ever lost,
all that I hold dear, and all I ever hoped to gain, that is the most precious
gift of all.
END (2/2)
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XX
Comments appreciated: Isahunter@aol.com
You’re honey child to a swarm of bees
Gonna blow right through you like a breeze
Give me one last chance
We’ll slide down the surface of things
You’re the real thing, yeah, the real thing
You’re the real thing

Even better than the real thing
--"Even Better Than The Real Thing" by U2.
(Lyrics used without permission. No infringement intended.
The song belongs to U2 and Island Records, Inc.)

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A Real Love Part II

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

These characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen, and Fox. No

infringement intended. This was only written out of love.

NC17! IF YOU ARE UNDER AGE, YOU SHOULDN'T BE READING THIS!

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

damned sure I would.

have to re-phrase. NOW she’s at her most beautiful.

is through, she leaves the halves of her blouse closed...waiting for me to

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

breath, before falling closed once more. I am mesmerized.

like a thirteen-year-old, getting ready to feel up his first girl.

I meet her gaze. She is looking at me expectantly. With a deep breath, I

places them on my forearms. My eyes are probably no more glazed, either.

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

"Mulder, you know--there is a clasp on this bra."

little moan out of her mouth.

"Do you like that?"

"Do you want more?"

"So much more."

nose, and it almost tickles. I place a whisper of a kiss on the underside of

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

slacks, and quickly. But it can wait, a moment or two...

cushion, bringing my straining erection in perfect contact with her grinding

both gasp. "Oh, hell yes."

She is nearly panting now, staring at me through heavy-lidded eyes as I

Oh, god, that mouth!

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

by heart, as if I traced them with my fingers like a blind person. But I

I’m sitting here half-naked in my living room...with Mulder.

Who ever would’ve thought this could happen?

Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing but him.

I have always dreamed of those beautiful hands touching me. At first, I

does. Could it be so surprising then that feeling his hands on me is enough

to make me weak, that his mouth on me is enough to short-circuit my brain?

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

moment...passing in an instant. This final realization of love is worth all

a motel bed, in a parked car, in an elevator...I even imagined doing it on the

ground, in the forest in Florida. I always thought that if we ever succumbed

to this urge, it would be a dangerously impulsive and rash decision. I have

never been so glad to be wrong.

fingers glide up my sides, tickling, barely skimming, until he reaches my

shoulders. He pushed the fabric of my blouse down my arms, his fingers

"Oh, God...Scully, you’re so beautiful," he murmurs, the words broken and

he always manages to turn it into a caress.

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

where it will, he pulls me closer and presses my chest to his. I gasp,

of sensations...chest to chest, breath to breath, heart to heart. I can feel

I am lulled by his rhythm. He breathes out as I breathe in. He inhales as I

teasing the middle seam of my slacks. I wonder if he can feel me shaking.

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

feeling. Nothing would do her justice.

"Lie down," I murmur, wanting her to be comfortable. As she reluctantly

obscene of fantasies, and in my sweetest of dreams. I can’t decide which one

wear skirts more often."

"I didn’t think you noticed."

"You’d be surprised what I notice, Scully."

bite your lip when you want something really badly."

She abruptly releases her lip and frowns. "I do not."

me, I’ve just noticed."

This earns me a feigned glare. "What else?"